023. - Video.

[brokenweapon]

[The video's inadvertently activated - and it's easy to tell by the camera angle. It's pointing halfway up at the ceiling, but Bourne can still be seen, holding a picture frame in his hand and singing almost too quietly to be heard.]

Words we had said
Grew in my head
Colored my thoughts
Sang me to bed

Lost memories
Grew into trees
Covered the doors
Swallowed the keys

Winters have come and gone
You know
Winters have come and gone
You know
But I’ll meet you young and free
For a dance round the memory tree

Said I forgot
But I did not
Dreams we have had
Play in my head

Did we believe
The cry of the wind?
Did we regret?
Would we forget?

Winters have come and gone
You know
Winters have come and gone
You know
But I’ll meet you young and sweet
For a dance round the memory tree...

[He looks at his journal and sees the recording light is on. It's switched off dispassionately, but just before the transmission cuts out, there's the shadow of some sadness on his face.]