[And that's where they hit the impasse. If Cassel doesn't know, then like hell Mickey does. He sits there for a second, helplessly frustrated. Maybe he should go. Maybe that would be better for both of them. A boy who likes to get hurt and a boy who likes to hurt people -- that can't be a good combination.
But he can't. He knows too well how it feels now to lose people, to linger behind and suffer alone. It's completely selfish: he's not thinking of protecting Cassel from that, but himself. Losing Ian the first time had almost killed him by itself. Losing him again now, and his sister, and all those people on the Barge that had held a piece of him and taken it with them... Mickey already knows he's falling apart. He doesn't want to know what will happen when the next person is gone.]
I'm worried about you.
[It's so, so quiet. He knits his hands together, trying to scratch an errant flake of dried blood off his palm.]
About what happens if it gets bad.
[A punch in the face is one thing, or a little blowback... but Mickey's learned the hard way not to wait for the little things to get big.]
spam
But he can't. He knows too well how it feels now to lose people, to linger behind and suffer alone. It's completely selfish: he's not thinking of protecting Cassel from that, but himself. Losing Ian the first time had almost killed him by itself. Losing him again now, and his sister, and all those people on the Barge that had held a piece of him and taken it with them... Mickey already knows he's falling apart. He doesn't want to know what will happen when the next person is gone.]
I'm worried about you.
[It's so, so quiet. He knits his hands together, trying to scratch an errant flake of dried blood off his palm.]
About what happens if it gets bad.
[A punch in the face is one thing, or a little blowback... but Mickey's learned the hard way not to wait for the little things to get big.]