I wonder if there is a time limit to how long we'll stay here. Rather than wanting to go home, I'm finding myself more afraid that I will. If this place is fixed, I'll forget everything, at best, at worst I'll come back d- ... with nothing
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[His voice is slightly shaky now, torn between simply being upset and frustrated, concern, and plain old pissed off at Itachi.]
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I... I'm sorry.
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Then, there is a soft mewing noise, and the sound of rustling fabric -- oddly silken, not the type of fabric Al usually wears.]
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What brought all of this up?
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Alphonse...where are you right now?
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Alphonse...
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Everything, everything, goes away! Everyone leaves! I always fail to protect the people I care about the most! I'm always the one standing right there and watching someone walk away, or waking up to an empty bed or another broken promise, or having someone tell me to my face that they're walking into what I know is only pain, and nothing I can say can stop them --
All I can do is just stand on the sidelines and watch people get hurt! I'm sick of being too weak or too stupid or too young or not the person they need to hear those words from! Even when I do everything I can...
I wish I had never come here. I wish I'd just stayed dead.
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Hey...
I'm sorry. [It seems pointless to ask, but...] How are you holding up, Alphonse?
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... know that feeling, when you slice yourself open, that moment where you realize what's happening, that split second before the blood and pain come?
I'm there.
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But...It sounds like you're coping as well as can be expected, though, all things considered.
If I can be of any help, let me know. I'll see what kinds of... bandages and painkillers I can find for you. Or...something.
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Thanks.
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