Did it ever mean anything, when people touched him? He used to get drunk at parties, clubs, ride every high in the room and find the best feeling to go home with. Whoever thought he was the most interesting, the most attractive. Some fucked up mirror that showed him his best angles, made him feel good for awhile, made him forget he was going to die.
And he didn't.
And he didn't do any of that either. The only reason he even thinks his gifts were real, for someone, some-when, is how they've shown up in other people. Like some piece dissected out of the original and distilled, coded into someone else. Given in doses, like that dream before the badger attack. Did that make the memories real too? Does it matter?
Of course it matters. Kira lets Frank have his wrist because what the fuck is he going to do? Pull away, get gripped harder or pinned with some pitying look he'll still know in the dark? "I know you care about me. I know people care about me." Mark's stupid messages, Mark letting him move in so he isn't just kicking around that brick house with the animals. At least Mark's in the same boat he is, even if Mark doesn't seem to fucking care, one foot in front of the other motherfucker.
"It's not the same thing. I don't know anybody here, I don't recognize a single fucking person, when they come out of that fountain. I didn't even recognize Aurora, when I crawled out and they said I'd already been here. There is no one here to tell me any of my life ever really happened, and I'm not that for anybody else." Hand still in Frank's grip, he pushes, until he pokes him hard in the chest. "And you keep showing up at the worst fucking times, so I'm getting drunk in the basement because I never get to fucking talk about it."
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And he didn't.
And he didn't do any of that either. The only reason he even thinks his gifts were real, for someone, some-when, is how they've shown up in other people. Like some piece dissected out of the original and distilled, coded into someone else. Given in doses, like that dream before the badger attack. Did that make the memories real too? Does it matter?
Of course it matters. Kira lets Frank have his wrist because what the fuck is he going to do? Pull away, get gripped harder or pinned with some pitying look he'll still know in the dark? "I know you care about me. I know people care about me." Mark's stupid messages, Mark letting him move in so he isn't just kicking around that brick house with the animals. At least Mark's in the same boat he is, even if Mark doesn't seem to fucking care, one foot in front of the other motherfucker.
"It's not the same thing. I don't know anybody here, I don't recognize a single fucking person, when they come out of that fountain. I didn't even recognize Aurora, when I crawled out and they said I'd already been here. There is no one here to tell me any of my life ever really happened, and I'm not that for anybody else." Hand still in Frank's grip, he pushes, until he pokes him hard in the chest. "And you keep showing up at the worst fucking times, so I'm getting drunk in the basement because I never get to fucking talk about it."