[He doesn't know what else to say. Rean's right about all of that. That it's hard. That Rean can't just make it all go away. But also that his friends aren't going anywhere. He doesn't really need to be told that. They've hunted him down often enough. It's just that no matter how hard he tries he can't grasp why. No matter what Rean says, it all feels so fragile and wrong. He's not the person who should be here. He feels it in his bones.
Can you have survivor's guilt when the person who died was you?]
Rean--
[God how does he talk without being full of shit? When he can laugh, it's so much easier. He sits back, breaking contact but not trying to get out of Rean's space, and smiles the same way he always did. It means the same thing it always did, too. He's not okay, but he's at least pulling himself together enough to pretend it.]
no subject
[He doesn't know what else to say. Rean's right about all of that. That it's hard. That Rean can't just make it all go away. But also that his friends aren't going anywhere. He doesn't really need to be told that. They've hunted him down often enough. It's just that no matter how hard he tries he can't grasp why. No matter what Rean says, it all feels so fragile and wrong. He's not the person who should be here. He feels it in his bones.
Can you have survivor's guilt when the person who died was you?]
Rean--
[God how does he talk without being full of shit? When he can laugh, it's so much easier. He sits back, breaking contact but not trying to get out of Rean's space, and smiles the same way he always did. It means the same thing it always did, too. He's not okay, but he's at least pulling himself together enough to pretend it.]
Ah, hell. You're right. It doesn't matter.