For a second, time seems to lapse, and all sound drowns out in a haze of static and ringing bells. It feels like it lasts hours, a constant scream or sirens blaring in his head, but it's just a second...maybe two.
I'm very sick... I'm supposed to die...
Words he never expected to hear - never, ever wanted to hear. It hurts, and his chest tightens. He eyes burn and sting and he can feel it. He can feel himself getting angry. But it's so...so small a flame. A tiny, insignificant ember amidst a storm of determination and disbelief. There's no way. She's come this far. She never looked or acted sick around him in all the time she's been here, with him. And yet...it's not as shocking as he expected it to be, after the first few seconds. It makes sense, actually. Ren was sheltered, dumb to the world around her because she probably spent her entire life in a hospital room.
He doesn't know the full story, but sicknesses can still be cured. Somehow. There's always a way. And they don't really know if her sickness is completely fatal, or untreatable. If it wasn't, then she'd have died long ago, he wagers. There must be a way to make it so Ren can live. I she goes home, back where she came from, it may very well be the end of her. But why does she have to go back there? Characters in a story can always appear in others...stories can be rewritten, interwoven. Isn't that right? They can be edited.
It takes a moment to find his voice, and Guzma exhales slowly, gripping Ren a bit tighter.]
...Y'know, I can't help but think that's Mudsdale crap. You're a lot tougher'n you think you are, sweetheart - I know it - and if you wanna live longer, I think you damn well can.
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For a second, time seems to lapse, and all sound drowns out in a haze of static and ringing bells. It feels like it lasts hours, a constant scream or sirens blaring in his head, but it's just a second...maybe two.
I'm very sick... I'm supposed to die...
Words he never expected to hear - never, ever wanted to hear. It hurts, and his chest tightens. He eyes burn and sting and he can feel it. He can feel himself getting angry. But it's so...so small a flame. A tiny, insignificant ember amidst a storm of determination and disbelief. There's no way. She's come this far. She never looked or acted sick around him in all the time she's been here, with him. And yet...it's not as shocking as he expected it to be, after the first few seconds. It makes sense, actually. Ren was sheltered, dumb to the world around her because she probably spent her entire life in a hospital room.
He doesn't know the full story, but sicknesses can still be cured. Somehow. There's always a way. And they don't really know if her sickness is completely fatal, or untreatable. If it wasn't, then she'd have died long ago, he wagers. There must be a way to make it so Ren can live. I she goes home, back where she came from, it may very well be the end of her. But why does she have to go back there? Characters in a story can always appear in others...stories can be rewritten, interwoven. Isn't that right? They can be edited.
It takes a moment to find his voice, and Guzma exhales slowly, gripping Ren a bit tighter.]
...Y'know, I can't help but think that's Mudsdale crap. You're a lot tougher'n you think you are, sweetheart - I know it - and if you wanna live longer, I think you damn well can.