[He squeezes Michael's shirt before remembering that Michael probably can't feel that. He lets go and instead tries to shimmy his arm back to the small space between them to search for Michael's hand. He can't quite swing the maneuver though, and ends up thumbing at Michael's elbow instead. It's close enough. Michael will understand.]
Me too, but... But this is okay.
[It's not, but there's fuck all either of them can do about it now. And anyway, he mostly means it's not as bad as the first time. Dying the first time fucking sucked.
He is dying though, and even if it doesn't hurt all that much, it's not a good feeling. He can feel his body shutting down—it reminds him of the compartments in Titanic, actually, sectioning off damaged parts of the ship to try to conserve power. He opens his eyes again briefly but his vision has gone dark and swimmy and it gives him vertigo so he closes them again.]
I'm gonna pass out soon. I love you.
[The words come out a bit slurred, but they seem like good enough last words or whatever. They won't even count once Hope revives him, anyway. It's fine. It's enough.
Oh. Wait.]
You gotta... JF. Don't fucking, you... And Hayden. They're...
[Okay, never mind, this is frustrating. Endlessly frustrating because this is important but he can't figure out how to string the words together. Fuck, he should've thought of this before he was this far gone. He nudges Michael's head with his to emphasize the importance of this concept he can't quite piece together.]
Cats... She can't... She can't eat your fucking onion.
[Take care of yourself, Michael. You're inheriting children.]
no subject
[He squeezes Michael's shirt before remembering that Michael probably can't feel that. He lets go and instead tries to shimmy his arm back to the small space between them to search for Michael's hand. He can't quite swing the maneuver though, and ends up thumbing at Michael's elbow instead. It's close enough. Michael will understand.]
Me too, but... But this is okay.
[It's not, but there's fuck all either of them can do about it now. And anyway, he mostly means it's not as bad as the first time. Dying the first time fucking sucked.
He is dying though, and even if it doesn't hurt all that much, it's not a good feeling. He can feel his body shutting down—it reminds him of the compartments in Titanic, actually, sectioning off damaged parts of the ship to try to conserve power. He opens his eyes again briefly but his vision has gone dark and swimmy and it gives him vertigo so he closes them again.]
I'm gonna pass out soon. I love you.
[The words come out a bit slurred, but they seem like good enough last words or whatever. They won't even count once Hope revives him, anyway. It's fine. It's enough.
Oh. Wait.]
You gotta... JF. Don't fucking, you... And Hayden. They're...
[Okay, never mind, this is frustrating. Endlessly frustrating because this is important but he can't figure out how to string the words together. Fuck, he should've thought of this before he was this far gone. He nudges Michael's head with his to emphasize the importance of this concept he can't quite piece together.]
Cats... She can't... She can't eat your fucking onion.
[Take care of yourself, Michael. You're inheriting children.]