[He doesn't need her to say it, he can fill in the blanks well enough. His expression darkens, grows much more weary and worn than it was a moment ago. He blinks a couple times, reaches up to itch his chin absently, purses his lips as he tries to put words together. They don't fit easily the first couple times, but when they finally come his voice is one-note.]
You died. Is what you mean. Or came pretty damn close.
[He ignores the rest, he can't process it right now. He won't. That in itself is plenty to deal with, plenty to try to swallow.]
no subject
You died. Is what you mean. Or came pretty damn close.
[He ignores the rest, he can't process it right now. He won't. That in itself is plenty to deal with, plenty to try to swallow.]