It's the tears that do it for her. The way he convulses and scrabbles and tries to fight that make her realize what's going on. It's too uncomfortably familiar. Howie is going to die here on this stupid planet and there's nothing she can really do to stop it. It's not some monster she can kill, it's not something she can shred. It's just stupid, terrible luck. And she can't fight that. She's seen a lot of death over the years and this is just another aspect of it.
"He's going," she announces quietly, voice a hiss.
Her arms tighten around him, even if she can't offer all the much comfort to the dying boy in her arms (he's just a kid). They've only known each other for a short time and now he's getting ripped away, just like everything else in her life and she finds that she hates that (she still feels hate). It's a burning, gnawing hatred, but she can't bring herself to get righteously angry. Because what good is it going to do anyone?
So Karis holds onto him, claws digging in as if she can anchor him in this life through sheer force of will.
“Howie, Howie-”
What the fuck is she supposed to say? That it's going to be alright? That there's something on the other side, waiting for him? Neither of those lies are true and she doesn't want the last thing he hears to be false truths coming from (paradoxically) one of the few people he trusts. And she doesn't want to tell him it, in any case. She never liked sugar-coating things.
“Don't be afraid. Don't. You're not alone, Howie, you're not-”
Shadow, she doesn't like to think about her death, but it's the closest parallel she has. Dying alone and cold and scared was horrible.
“...Shit. Shit. I can't-”
Fuck this. Fuck everything. Her voice is small and she hates that she has to use these words and hates that she means them and hates that it has to happen to Howie, who isn't a bad kid, he's like her. He doesn't deserve this. He never wanted to be here. He just wanted to have his stupid stash of shit and lots of food and somewhere safe to live and now he's going to end up dead. And she gets to keep shambling along, watching the world change around her while she stays locked in her corpse of a body.
“...I'm sorry.”
All that's left is that empty, hollow feeling of helpessness and despair that she can't remember feeling in a long time.
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"He's going," she announces quietly, voice a hiss.
Her arms tighten around him, even if she can't offer all the much comfort to the dying boy in her arms (he's just a kid). They've only known each other for a short time and now he's getting ripped away, just like everything else in her life and she finds that she hates that (she still feels hate). It's a burning, gnawing hatred, but she can't bring herself to get righteously angry. Because what good is it going to do anyone?
So Karis holds onto him, claws digging in as if she can anchor him in this life through sheer force of will.
“Howie, Howie-”
What the fuck is she supposed to say? That it's going to be alright? That there's something on the other side, waiting for him? Neither of those lies are true and she doesn't want the last thing he hears to be false truths coming from (paradoxically) one of the few people he trusts. And she doesn't want to tell him it, in any case. She never liked sugar-coating things.
“Don't be afraid. Don't. You're not alone, Howie, you're not-”
Shadow, she doesn't like to think about her death, but it's the closest parallel she has. Dying alone and cold and scared was horrible.
“...Shit. Shit. I can't-”
Fuck this. Fuck everything. Her voice is small and she hates that she has to use these words and hates that she means them and hates that it has to happen to Howie, who isn't a bad kid, he's like her. He doesn't deserve this. He never wanted to be here. He just wanted to have his stupid stash of shit and lots of food and somewhere safe to live and now he's going to end up dead. And she gets to keep shambling along, watching the world change around her while she stays locked in her corpse of a body.
“...I'm sorry.”
All that's left is that empty, hollow feeling of helpessness and despair that she can't remember feeling in a long time.