[ pouring quietly, just staring downwards for a long moment, like maybe he's falling asleep with his eyes open? no it's fine. he blinks after a long stretch and sets his hands on the desk. ]
But I took my brand knowing what it would entail. [ offering him a light smile. ] Mostly. As with most things.
[that light smile gets an attempt at one in turn, but. not quite.]
Well... knowing most of what it'd entail isn't the same as having much choice in it.
[it's an unasked question, something he's leaving to io, if he feels like answering or not. gregor is all too familiar with a lack of choice, and if he's the only physician left, there couldn't have been many options in the beginning.]
Most would rather call me ripper... butcher... that's what I do at the end of the day. [ sitting back down and resting the cup against the join of leg and prosthetic with a soft sigh. much better. there's a small bit of relief. ]
I... [ uncertain of how to say anything about this. ] Sometimes I do not feel like one. But I'm sure you understand that. I am just doing what I can.
When there's blood on your hands, forgiving yourself isn't something that comes easily.
I certainly haven't... I can't go and tell you to do the same... but I can tell you that you are a good man. That you're good every day, mistakes and all. Even if you don't believe it... sometimes knowing that others see that in you—
[ a tug at the mouth, a faint smile. ] It's something. A drop in the bucket. You keep moving.
[he'll make an attempt to believe in it, at least.
for a second it looks like he means to say something, or ask something, but-- he pauses, stops himself, and mutters a quiet little nevermind as he picks up the cup to take a sip.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[io your kids. your earth.]
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[ the kettle just bubbles, almost there. ]
I need to... save that idiot too.
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[geez.
being the only physician they have to save them from the plague, having someone else to save on top of it all--]
It must be heavy.
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It is.
[ pouring quietly, just staring downwards for a long moment, like maybe he's falling asleep with his eyes open? no it's fine. he blinks after a long stretch and sets his hands on the desk. ]
But I took my brand knowing what it would entail. [ offering him a light smile. ] Mostly. As with most things.
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Well... knowing most of what it'd entail isn't the same as having much choice in it.
[it's an unasked question, something he's leaving to io, if he feels like answering or not. gregor is all too familiar with a lack of choice, and if he's the only physician left, there couldn't have been many options in the beginning.]
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[ a choice willed into existence. it needed to be. he finishes up and brings over a hot cup, handing it over with care. a smile. still. ]
What's been willed simply... will be. And I'm okay with that if it means I can save my town.
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[something that had to be, but that-- at least ends up doing some good. ends up with saving people, with being in a position to help.
gregor takes the cup carefully, human hand curling around it to soak up the warmth.]
... you're a good man, you know.
[it's part of what makes gregor so fond of him.]
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I... [ uncertain of how to say anything about this. ] Sometimes I do not feel like one. But I'm sure you understand that. I am just doing what I can.
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[it's always been enough, here.]
I get it, though. Every time someone here tells me I am, I... almost don't wanna hear it.
[because what good has he done here, really. he hasn't done anything somebody else couldn't. his support could be replaced, if he were gone.]
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I certainly haven't... I can't go and tell you to do the same... but I can tell you that you are a good man. That you're good every day, mistakes and all. Even if you don't believe it... sometimes knowing that others see that in you—
[ a tug at the mouth, a faint smile. ] It's something. A drop in the bucket. You keep moving.
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Haah... you say stuff like that in a way I just might believe, you know? Careful with that.
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I'll take that as a compliment...
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[which gets a tiny little smile from him again, at least.]
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[he'll make an attempt to believe in it, at least.
for a second it looks like he means to say something, or ask something, but-- he pauses, stops himself, and mutters a quiet little nevermind as he picks up the cup to take a sip.]
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What is it?
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[ and then deadpan: ] Spill it.
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[look. if he's not bringing it up greg isn't sure he wants to.]
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[ gregor he is tired and half falling asleep with this cup in his hand because he got to sit in a cot. ]
If... you're being some kind of coy about last weekend...
[ dead eyes him like is that it? is that what you're talking about? ]
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[but, uh, yeah, looks like he nailed it there.]
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Well. I suppose. My first thought regarding that was...
[ tilting his head, uncertain. ]
Why?
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[a helpless little shrug, there, another sip of his drink. how do you even explain these things?]
But it wasn't just because of what was going on last week, making us touchier and everything, if that's what you were thinking.
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[ sometimes you just don't trust anything. ]
This isn't self-deprecating, I promise you, I...
[ unhappily shuffles my lore papers. ]
I could never return such things. I am... no longer permitted. It's part of... dying. I've done it too much. A punishment...
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[and what kind of punishment is that, anyway, to deny someone something like--]
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HELLO DW I POSTED THIS
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