[ Is there really anybody left on the planet good enough to help the victors fully recover? Some of them paint on a good face, but they're either covering up the damage or they're a fucking sociopath.
Still, some people fare worse than others. Some people go straight to parliament to scream uselessly into a political void and are never heard from again. Some kill themselves quickly, some kill themselves slowly. It's impossible to know for the first little while how it's going to go.
He's passive as she guides him, following along placidly until they get into the bedroom. He closes the door, falters, and then locks it. There's no point, nobody else is going to be here, the front door is locked, but... he just feels a little better about it.
He's silent as he sheds his jeans and his overshirt; he's hung around her wearing boxers and tank tops since he was a fucking kid, he doesn't even think about it now. He just slips beneath the sheets mechanically. ]
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Still, some people fare worse than others. Some people go straight to parliament to scream uselessly into a political void and are never heard from again. Some kill themselves quickly, some kill themselves slowly. It's impossible to know for the first little while how it's going to go.
He's passive as she guides him, following along placidly until they get into the bedroom. He closes the door, falters, and then locks it. There's no point, nobody else is going to be here, the front door is locked, but... he just feels a little better about it.
He's silent as he sheds his jeans and his overshirt; he's hung around her wearing boxers and tank tops since he was a fucking kid, he doesn't even think about it now. He just slips beneath the sheets mechanically. ]