Once he starts, it's hard to stop. He hasn't cried like this since he lost his gifts; before that, since he buried Ren. It shores up, one stress weighted atop the other, until the top layer breaks and they bury him. Even as he feels Credence approach, he can't pull it back in, can't pull himself together and up to deal with it. Everything is the rush of dead, gone, my fault, everyone gone, all of it my fault--
When Credence speaks, knelt at his side, all Kira can do is whine from deep in his throat, burying the sound in the dirty material.
Answer him: if he can speak, he can come out of this. It's Credence, there are standards, there are--fuck the standards. Exhaling a long, growl of a sound into the coat, there's as much anger as sadness welling up. Why did Ty have to go anyway, why does he have to be stuck here, why does it have to be Credence to find him like this? "It's not a present," he bites out, starting to lift his head, really look at the mess he's been holding so close. The side of his face is pink and runny, where his tears mixed with the blood. "I was wearing this before I arrived."
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When Credence speaks, knelt at his side, all Kira can do is whine from deep in his throat, burying the sound in the dirty material.
Answer him: if he can speak, he can come out of this. It's Credence, there are standards, there are--fuck the standards. Exhaling a long, growl of a sound into the coat, there's as much anger as sadness welling up. Why did Ty have to go anyway, why does he have to be stuck here, why does it have to be Credence to find him like this? "It's not a present," he bites out, starting to lift his head, really look at the mess he's been holding so close. The side of his face is pink and runny, where his tears mixed with the blood. "I was wearing this before I arrived."