Asher takes a shuddering breath as he comes back to himself, each nerve screaming with pain, nerves that have felt nothing in so very long.

He opens his eyes, slowly, body trembling, ragged gasps as he tries to remember how to speak, how uneccessary breathing is. Slowly, he leans up on one elbow, staring in amazement as his hand; whole, and perfect. He tilts it slowly back and forth, looking at the palm, then the unmarked back of his hand.