> Be Past Rose.

applejuicesexual:

TG: shut up

Of course he can’t handle it. Any harm to his sister doesn’t settle well with him. He hates it, he hates the way it makes the acid in his stomach push its way up, ready to expel and spill. He hates the way it makes him feel like something is his fault, like he couldn’t do anything to remedy the situation. And it seriously feels like a sword just slid through him, reminder of one of his alternate’s deaths, hand coming to clutch his stomach as the other supported his forehead.

“Fuck.”

TG: shut up

He can’t handle it on his own. Not when he’s not physically there to be helping Rose, to make sure she has what she needs, to be there when she breaks down, because her health and life is ten times more important than his. He’s meaningless, can go on doing other things. She’s the one with the impressive future, the one who’s supposed to be the prodigy and show them all up.

TG: just shut the fuck up rose

And he uses her first name. He never uses her first name. It’s so weird, so foreign to type, teeth clenching. This was being harsh, but he just didn’t know what to do. He was literally losing it and his hold on the situation. Dave Strider liked being in control, and this was just so far out of his control that he couldn’t take it.

TG: dammit i want you better
TG: i want you to see
TG: dont use the cane
TG: let me help you
TG: holy fuck rose this just
TG: no
TG: no no no

And then a —

TG: why couldnt it have been me?

Because he would have taken all of this, all of this pain away in a heartbeat.

He really hates this. He hates how weak he is, how he can’t quite take such a simple fact, how he’s the one who has to blow it out of proportion and make it look like the worst situation in the world. Guess that was the only thing he really was good at as he sat there on the other side, brow furrowed, finally taking off his shades to rub at his eyes.

God, was he tired.

Why?  Why did he think he had any more right to lose every last shit he owned than she did?  This wasn’t some malicious act carried out by a criminal organization, or a concerted effort on the part of a malignant disease that she contracted through her own foolish action.  It was an accident, and yet Dave couldn’t accept the concept of blamelessness.

She remembers the listless days she spent in her bed when she first went blind, finally dragged out of her bed by the mobility specialized who pried her hands open, provided her the cane, and made her walk again, until she realized that this would be the only way she would ever walk again.

She remembers the long hours of the night where the Braille tutor would sit by her burning midnight oil until she could understand one of the new contractions and the intricacies of Grade 2.

She remembers the hours she’s spent wondering whether her future in medicine, long perceived to be a foregone conclusion, now carried with it immense baggage and potential complicating factors.  Everything is different, and the worst part is that Rose is aware for every last moment of it.  She’s an intact mind in a broken body, and as much as she endeavors to tell Dave, to tell herself she can forge some kind of life out of this, she can’t help but feel like there will always be something missing.

She remembers the pain like it was yesterday, and it practically was, a month removed from the deep wounds showing only shallow healing.  Dave excavates them again with every word and Rose just wants to snap her computer in half because she can barely stand to hear that automated voice speak Dave’s words.  She wants to hear him say them to her face.

TT: Dave, what the fuck else am I supposed to do?
TT: I can't see anymore, and I never will.  That isn't something that's up for discussion or debate.  It's a physiological impossibility.
TT: Tell me, because I sure as hell can't tell what you're thinking you're going to do.
TT: It was an accident, David.  There was nothing you could have done, and even if there had been, this is over.   

She just wants to shut her laptop and walk away, but she can’t even do it figuratively.  She needs him to understand her just as much as he needs her to understand him.

(Source : orphiste-blog)