[ the truth is, he can't parse the difference between his feelings and abel's feelings right now. self-loathing isn't that old of a friend, but it's the oldest one he has in horos, the one he's held closest to his heart. and hadn't he cried his eyes out from grief maybe an hour ago? if he were more in control, maybe he'd better be able to tell which is whose, but right now it seems reasonable that he'd feel this, and this much.
he's felt scraped raw since that terrible night amos took him, but with every word abel seems to reach through his ribs and pull out another thought, or fear, he's never admitted to having and lay it out in the light of day. not cruelly, but...not gently, either. hadn't he told misa less than a day ago, i was supposed to die before i got to horos; i don't know why i didn't. (and he'd tried, hadn't he? with amos. ciel.)
(egwene had said: if it's you, i will always stand by you. no matter what happens. no matter what comes. even now, her voice ripples through their shared legacy. he'd listened to her, and then he'd left.)
what a terrible thing it is, to have a hope — no matter how dreadful — ripped away. what a terrible thing it is, to stare down the uncertainty of life. going to the eye with moiraine really had been such an easy choice by comparison.
he thinks, i'm tired. he thinks, i'm scared. and then he thinks, neither of those things matter. they haven't before. they won't now. nor does how much it hurts. of course he has to fight. in some ways, that's always been the only choice available to him.
so he closes his eyes even as they burn, and he nods. it's not a promise, but — he's hearing, too. he is. that's as much as he can do right now. ]
cw suicide ideation
he's felt scraped raw since that terrible night amos took him, but with every word abel seems to reach through his ribs and pull out another thought, or fear, he's never admitted to having and lay it out in the light of day. not cruelly, but...not gently, either. hadn't he told misa less than a day ago, i was supposed to die before i got to horos; i don't know why i didn't. (and he'd tried, hadn't he? with amos. ciel.)
(egwene had said: if it's you, i will always stand by you. no matter what happens. no matter what comes. even now, her voice ripples through their shared legacy. he'd listened to her, and then he'd left.)
what a terrible thing it is, to have a hope — no matter how dreadful — ripped away. what a terrible thing it is, to stare down the uncertainty of life. going to the eye with moiraine really had been such an easy choice by comparison.
he thinks, i'm tired. he thinks, i'm scared. and then he thinks, neither of those things matter. they haven't before. they won't now. nor does how much it hurts. of course he has to fight. in some ways, that's always been the only choice available to him.
so he closes his eyes even as they burn, and he nods. it's not a promise, but — he's hearing, too. he is. that's as much as he can do right now. ]