...I don't know that it's something you deal with, really. At least, as far as making it go away, anyway.

[Instead it lives in your skin, your bones, burrows into your very being and nests there for decades, a century and more until you no longer remember who you were before it.]

I'm sorry you're hurting so much, Yelena. Do you want any company? Or--snacks to eat by yourself, maybe? Haha.

[Or, you know, water for the inevitable hangover.]