[ At this point, it’s easier to move on reflex. To follow the orders even if they weren’t spoken out loud because God, at least that’s something. At least that’s real. And so Carver shifts closer, watching the screen as Harold sits down—awkwardly, Carver notes. ]
You’re in pain, [ he observes, a little distantly. There’s probably nothing he can do about that here. ] Okay. I’ll set them.
[ Two words. And then they’ll come, Carver thinks, even if he cannot allow himself to consider a moment when he’d need that extraction—or from whom. ]
no subject
You’re in pain, [ he observes, a little distantly. There’s probably nothing he can do about that here. ] Okay. I’ll set them.
[ Two words. And then they’ll come, Carver thinks, even if he cannot allow himself to consider a moment when he’d need that extraction—or from whom. ]