[ Somewhere around the middle of that, around Mista's voice raising, Alex feels his insides squirm and go rigid. He remembers Clear practically begging him, pleading with him to let it go. Live, Alex, you have to live, that's what they're doing, right? If you let it get to you like this, you're already dead he's basically killed you twice

Alex please, you can't lock yourself away. Please. Alex, you didn't do this, you saved people. Alex--


He shuts his eyes, hard, because he hates it. He hates when he can hear her voice, making sense, and he can't see her. Because she's not here. Because once again, he's finding her everywhere, but he can't find her. In the voices of other people.

He's been quiet. Alex hasn't been able to find his voice. Maybe Mista thinks he won't answer. Maybe he shouldn't. Maybe he


takes a shuddering breath. ]

If it's not my fault, why the fuck does this shit keep happening? [ Soft. Bitter. Angry. Pained. ] What...the fuck did I do...to make everything hate me so much?


[ (Clear would wrap him up in her arms and press their foreheads together. Clear would scream and curse at the whole universe if she had to. Clear would whisper him soft reassurances about defying the world together.
But Clear's not here. )