[ He falls silent through all of that. The only other option is to not. He's had the same thought, come to the same conclusion; he can't go through with the alternative, so he has to figure out something else. Something that includes him continuing onwards. And the rest ... god. His shoulders hitch in revulsion, involuntarily; as horrible as all of that was, at least he hadn't worked with those bastards. That thought makes him want to be sick again.
They're all dead now, anyway. It doesn't matter any more. They're done ... He exhales hard and wipes at his face with the heel of one hand. ]
She would be. About both of us. [ Dull, toneless. ] ... We're never telling either of them about this.
no subject
They're all dead now, anyway. It doesn't matter any more. They're done ... He exhales hard and wipes at his face with the heel of one hand. ]
She would be. About both of us. [ Dull, toneless. ] ... We're never telling either of them about this.