The touch to his knee from twitching, twisted fingers is not what he's bargained for. It's not his ass on the line here. He meets her eyes with a frown.
Then his gut drops out from its cradle, landing somewhere distant and desolate. Strangers they are, but hearing the prognosis from a woman who can't turn her head without ticking back like a failing clock hand is something so eerie and tragic that it becomes painful to watch. To listen to this woman sputter out her own death sentence is something that kicks him back to watching Dad go, then Mom, two years apart. The same disease in different places.
TJ's got five years. But the symptoms weren't supposed to come for a while yet, and she's smack dab in the middle of them right now.
"So it hit you out of nowhere?" Odd that it made so much sense. When he encountered the younger Prior he feared the worst, that he'd been rebooted and wouldn't remember a thing. Then the hour wore on and it wasn't the case at all.
He takes her hand in his, keeping the knot of their fingers on his knee. She's struggling to spit something else out and now her tongue's gone rogue. It won't do the work it could just a second ago, and that gives him a flicker of fear.
"Listen, if it was out of the blue, then it's going to pass. My pal, he did turn back. All right? It might be gone right away, it might be another hour yet, but it's going to clear out and you'll be back to regular. And this place — they're pretty loosey-goosey with mortality. Nothings written in stone around here." He smiles, teeth clenched but sincerity beaming through. "It's a miracle factory. The one plus side to magic bullshit."
no subject
Then his gut drops out from its cradle, landing somewhere distant and desolate. Strangers they are, but hearing the prognosis from a woman who can't turn her head without ticking back like a failing clock hand is something so eerie and tragic that it becomes painful to watch. To listen to this woman sputter out her own death sentence is something that kicks him back to watching Dad go, then Mom, two years apart. The same disease in different places.
TJ's got five years. But the symptoms weren't supposed to come for a while yet, and she's smack dab in the middle of them right now.
"So it hit you out of nowhere?" Odd that it made so much sense. When he encountered the younger Prior he feared the worst, that he'd been rebooted and wouldn't remember a thing. Then the hour wore on and it wasn't the case at all.
He takes her hand in his, keeping the knot of their fingers on his knee. She's struggling to spit something else out and now her tongue's gone rogue. It won't do the work it could just a second ago, and that gives him a flicker of fear.
"Listen, if it was out of the blue, then it's going to pass. My pal, he did turn back. All right? It might be gone right away, it might be another hour yet, but it's going to clear out and you'll be back to regular. And this place — they're pretty loosey-goosey with mortality. Nothings written in stone around here." He smiles, teeth clenched but sincerity beaming through. "It's a miracle factory. The one plus side to magic bullshit."