He sat down by the bucket and wiped away the tears that had started trickling down his cheeks with the memories. Once his bloody brain began remembering, it wouldn’t stop. He tried to clear his thoughts, to calm his strained emotions, and eventually succeeded in making his mind go blessedly blank, knees drawn up to his chest and forehead resting on them. His stump made him excruciatingly aware of its presence with a tearing, burning pain that never really went away, and his missing hand seared with ghostly pain, as though his body hadn’t realised the damn thing was gone yet.