Steven lets out a sigh of relieve. His whole body relaxes, as if he hadn't realized he'd been holding himself so stiffly and tightly, until the moment he didn't have to anymore.

"I wish I could believe that of Hades," he says in a sad, weary voice, "but I don't think I can. I mean, I figured out by the second day that he didn't think I was a person any more than the people I used to garden for after my Durance did, and he never... he never really showed me all that much otherwise. Which, okay, I was always getting into shit with him, but still. He even said in the messages we were sending last night that 'personhood is relative.' So no, I don't think he thinks I'm a person. Maybe he thinks I'm an animal. Or maybe I'm just-- I don't know. Some other kind of non-person."

He lets out a shaky breath. "That's, fuck. The one thing I really can't abide. I didn't like it even before everything happened, but since then... you know, I didn't have any papers after we escaped. No proof of identity. Which meant for all intents and purposes I was an illegal immigrant. In my own city!" He closes his eyes. "It was a relief," he says quietly. "To be a person again here. You have no idea how much, Hythlo."