Radar feels so far away. It would have spared him the anguish if he'd never saw anyone from home again. Yet the thought sits wrong in his mind; it's just like any other depressing thought he's had, and still it doesn't fit, like a weed in the garden. The hatred of himself is easy. It's natural, perhaps even deserved. Whenever he shuts his eyes, when he thinks of his self, the image is of broken knuckles and too much blood. Skinny wrists, white robes. A smile that's been polished to utter featurelessness, because there was nothing else to hide behind. A scared animal.
But he just can't help himself; he's too weak to fast, to starve himself of their company until he's figured out how to be someone they could look in the eyes again. He'd hungrily seize every moment he could spend at their sides. He wants Radar to love him like he used to. He can't help it. They were a family. Who is he without them?
It's a long, long night, and he will only get what he wants if he asks.
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Radar feels so far away. It would have spared him the anguish if he'd never saw anyone from home again. Yet the thought sits wrong in his mind; it's just like any other depressing thought he's had, and still it doesn't fit, like a weed in the garden. The hatred of himself is easy. It's natural, perhaps even deserved. Whenever he shuts his eyes, when he thinks of his self, the image is of broken knuckles and too much blood. Skinny wrists, white robes. A smile that's been polished to utter featurelessness, because there was nothing else to hide behind. A scared animal.
But he just can't help himself; he's too weak to fast, to starve himself of their company until he's figured out how to be someone they could look in the eyes again. He'd hungrily seize every moment he could spend at their sides. He wants Radar to love him like he used to. He can't help it. They were a family. Who is he without them?
It's a long, long night, and he will only get what he wants if he asks.
...
"Forgive me," he murmurs.