Sunshine clutches Autor, holding him fast in her arms. Her own tears leak quietly from her eyes as she hears his painful gasps and keens, and feels the grief shaking him with each ragged breath. Her own misery makes her voice sound desperate and weak as she tries to soothe him, trying to alleviate what hurt she can, and to see him through this.
She has never really believed in any deity, no overseeing power that directs the lives of those living in the world the deity presumably created. Few people in her world do - those that don't believe generally say that if they did, they would probably want to kick the deity in the shins for doing such a shit job at everything. But even with no one listening, Sunshine wishes as fiercely as she can on her friend's behalf. For peace, and rest, and healing. For understanding and support.
His words, when they come, are a sudden strike to her very heart. Her eyes flash open, and she nearly drops him in sudden shock. A deep flood of cold horror wells up in her like blood, chilling her bones and numbing her movement. Gasping, she is barely able to catch Autor's unconscious, collapsing form, her knees giving way, awkwardly sinking down to the floor with him to keep him from falling.
('Do you really think...')
Rae can't think clearly. It's all static. For a long moment, it is all she can do to sit crumpled on the floor, her breathing ragged, holding Autor half in her lap and staring at his battered, exhausted face. Then, as her tears begin falling in earnest, Autor's words begin encroaching again upon her scattered thoughts like an infection, the original strike having already found its mark. Had she? Had she really? Has all her good-will and friendship done nothing but make things worse for him? Would he be a Spinner, if she hadn't... muddled his focus? Surely not. She couldn't have.
('...being more trusting and vulnerable...')
Lifting her head and trying to get the wracking sobs under control, Rae moves her shaking hand to gently straighten Autor's glasses and wipe away the drying tears that mark his face. He looks so young without his glasses. She forgets, sometimes, just how young he is. He always acts so confident. He had when they first met. Had she ruined that? ('You've made me... weak.') Though she tries to wipe away the dark blotches on his blue blazer, her tears still fall thickly, her own quiet sobs shaking them both together in the floor of the darkened room.
('...will properly prepare him for the world he has to live in?')
Autor had hoped to escape the war through his Spinning. Had pinned everything on that. She hadn't known. And now he can't. Can't escape. He may die. The thought that she... that her friendship, all those memories she cherishes... may have weakened him to the point where he couldn't save himself... that he may die because of her - 'distractions,' he had said, with her weak promises that his friends would see him safely through war's devastation - it only makes the sobs come harder, helpless misery wetting her cheeks and Autor's dark hair as she rests her head against his.
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She has never really believed in any deity, no overseeing power that directs the lives of those living in the world the deity presumably created. Few people in her world do - those that don't believe generally say that if they did, they would probably want to kick the deity in the shins for doing such a shit job at everything. But even with no one listening, Sunshine wishes as fiercely as she can on her friend's behalf. For peace, and rest, and healing. For understanding and support.
His words, when they come, are a sudden strike to her very heart. Her eyes flash open, and she nearly drops him in sudden shock. A deep flood of cold horror wells up in her like blood, chilling her bones and numbing her movement. Gasping, she is barely able to catch Autor's unconscious, collapsing form, her knees giving way, awkwardly sinking down to the floor with him to keep him from falling.
('Do you really think...')
Rae can't think clearly. It's all static. For a long moment, it is all she can do to sit crumpled on the floor, her breathing ragged, holding Autor half in her lap and staring at his battered, exhausted face. Then, as her tears begin falling in earnest, Autor's words begin encroaching again upon her scattered thoughts like an infection, the original strike having already found its mark. Had she? Had she really? Has all her good-will and friendship done nothing but make things worse for him? Would he be a Spinner, if she hadn't... muddled his focus? Surely not. She couldn't have.
('...being more trusting and vulnerable...')
Lifting her head and trying to get the wracking sobs under control, Rae moves her shaking hand to gently straighten Autor's glasses and wipe away the drying tears that mark his face. He looks so young without his glasses. She forgets, sometimes, just how young he is. He always acts so confident. He had when they first met. Had she ruined that? ('You've made me... weak.') Though she tries to wipe away the dark blotches on his blue blazer, her tears still fall thickly, her own quiet sobs shaking them both together in the floor of the darkened room.
('...will properly prepare him for the world he has to live in?')
Autor had hoped to escape the war through his Spinning. Had pinned everything on that. She hadn't known. And now he can't. Can't escape. He may die. The thought that she... that her friendship, all those memories she cherishes... may have weakened him to the point where he couldn't save himself... that he may die because of her - 'distractions,' he had said, with her weak promises that his friends would see him safely through war's devastation - it only makes the sobs come harder, helpless misery wetting her cheeks and Autor's dark hair as she rests her head against his.