You make me strong
And in this world of strangers
I belong to someone
You are all I know
You're all I have
I need you so
I won't let go
You are my home
He hasn't had a home in more years than he cares to count. Possibly never if you consider that his grandmother's house wasn't ever really a home. But he likes to cling to the illusion that it was.
If you asked him where home is, he would have told you Ireland. He hasn't been there in a few year, but there's something about the land that sings in his blood. Ultimately, always, it will be home, and when he decides that it's time to go, he'll go home to the land of his father, where his mother's people dance under the stars.
But it's not his first answer now. Home's shifted. It's not a where anymore. It's a who. Ask him where home is now, and he'll tell you it's wherever Warren is. Wherever Warren goes. There's a simple peace to it and a burning need underneath it. He wonders sometimes, if Warren understands, really understands what life was like before him.
The world will always be divided now into before-Warren and after-Warren. He doesn't think further than that, that Warren may be a capsule in a life that stretches on after he's gone. He can't think that way, because when he does, he thinks that when that happens is when home will become a where again. When it does is when he'll go home one last time.
OOC/Author's Note: Lyrics are from "You are My Home" in The Scarlet Pimpernel.