They had lights inside their eyes, they had lights inside their eyes.
Not that the clinic isn't a marvel of coconut-radio-esque science, but it's a relief to be out of there. Lying around with no company but my own thoughts -- and, okay, a reasonably steady stream of visitors bringing snacks and episodes of Archer -- isn't really my idea of a good time. I'm not always the biggest fan of my own company.
It's one of the reasons why I don't generally hang out with Peter, although, in fairness, that reason is a bit dumb. I'm the one always making a point of being a different person, of not being a Parker, so I should strike that one off the list.
There are similiarites, though. It hasn't escaped me that the last time someone had surgery for a collapsed lung, it was him. I may have even ended up in the same clinic bed. I should be grateful, really. Means the surgeon had practice, and a pretty geared up surgery to do it in... but it also sort of reinforces that I haven't exactly forged my own path, here.
I thought I'd manage to do something along those lines, down in Rapture. That didn't work out so good. I survived. A lot of other people didn't. I'm not sold on that being a good deal. Not sold at all.
And that's why, the moment I'm dismissed, I'm going to see them. Not down to Rapture, of course, I'm not an idiot -- ignore the recurring breathing problems when considering this comment -- but to the graveyard. I didn't visit Uncle Ben's grave, after I... starting existing, became a separate person. It didn't seem right. I'd have liked to, but... that's not my life. I'm not a part of that.
This, though, I was a part of that. So I need to do this, need to go see them. The Little Sisters. The ones we did such a poor job of being siblings too, all of us. I'm going to go see them, see the markers, and then... I don't know. Apologize, maybe. For whatever that's worth.
If I can ever get there. I pause, and lean against another tree, and breathe in. Feel the ache, and wait to get my strength back enough to tackle the path again.
Benches. Benches, and hospital beds that raise up and down on their own. Maybe that's the way. Start small on the improving the world business, because when I try the big stuff... this happens.
[Catch her as close/far away from the graveyard as preferred. ST/LT more than welcome.]
It's one of the reasons why I don't generally hang out with Peter, although, in fairness, that reason is a bit dumb. I'm the one always making a point of being a different person, of not being a Parker, so I should strike that one off the list.
There are similiarites, though. It hasn't escaped me that the last time someone had surgery for a collapsed lung, it was him. I may have even ended up in the same clinic bed. I should be grateful, really. Means the surgeon had practice, and a pretty geared up surgery to do it in... but it also sort of reinforces that I haven't exactly forged my own path, here.
I thought I'd manage to do something along those lines, down in Rapture. That didn't work out so good. I survived. A lot of other people didn't. I'm not sold on that being a good deal. Not sold at all.
And that's why, the moment I'm dismissed, I'm going to see them. Not down to Rapture, of course, I'm not an idiot -- ignore the recurring breathing problems when considering this comment -- but to the graveyard. I didn't visit Uncle Ben's grave, after I... starting existing, became a separate person. It didn't seem right. I'd have liked to, but... that's not my life. I'm not a part of that.
This, though, I was a part of that. So I need to do this, need to go see them. The Little Sisters. The ones we did such a poor job of being siblings too, all of us. I'm going to go see them, see the markers, and then... I don't know. Apologize, maybe. For whatever that's worth.
If I can ever get there. I pause, and lean against another tree, and breathe in. Feel the ache, and wait to get my strength back enough to tackle the path again.
Benches. Benches, and hospital beds that raise up and down on their own. Maybe that's the way. Start small on the improving the world business, because when I try the big stuff... this happens.
[Catch her as close/far away from the graveyard as preferred. ST/LT more than welcome.]