[ Hell, Logan is expecting an argument. He didn't come here to say what Adrian wants to hear. But Adrian doesn't, unhappy as he looks about it.
He can accept that.
His weight shifts. Yeah, well. He's known plenty who aren't human, mutants more powerful than him, and most of them didn't make it. There's a limit to everyone. He understands that better than most.
—The question makes him blink, thoughts sidelined. ]
I don't get a choice. [ That's the simple answer. Sometimes, he finds his reasons, and those are his good days—or weeks or even months—and sometimes, those reasons aren't enough. Even when they should be, they aren't always.
But he's still here either way. He still finds himself back with his own. ]
Turns out, when you're around people, you start listening to what they say. After a while, they might even convince you to stop feeling sorry for yourself.
[ Adrian's eyebrows draw together in gentle sympathy. He should have guessed. Logan had implied as much before, hadn't he? It must be strange, having to learn to live with... living.
In some ways, it's a bit of a relief. Deep down, he knows that there's very little that he can do to ensure that those he cares for aren't taken by some sudden accident, even outside of this foolish misstep he's made. With Logan, he'll never have to worry about that.
Yet, all the same, a life without end sounds truly exhausting.
He's glad that Logan has people. He's just not entirely certain of what to do with the idea that he might be one of them, in some way or another.
Wry: ] Fern would be the first to tell you that I don't listen to anyone. But... I am trying. [ Adrian breathes a sigh. ] Was there anything else?
[ A half-shrug meets Adrian's pinched brows. It's a part of what he is. He used to think of it as a curse; some days, he still does. Other times, he knows it's the sole reason he's done what he has. Kept people safe. Tried to, anyway.
He'll bet. He shouldn't be surprised. Every doctor's got a stubborn streak a mile wide.
Guess he isn't one to talk. ]
Maybe you oughta start with her.
[ He swings his leg back over his bike. In answer, the engine revs. Nah. He said what he wanted to say. The rest is up to Adrian. ]
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He can accept that.
His weight shifts. Yeah, well. He's known plenty who aren't human, mutants more powerful than him, and most of them didn't make it. There's a limit to everyone. He understands that better than most.
—The question makes him blink, thoughts sidelined. ]
I don't get a choice. [ That's the simple answer. Sometimes, he finds his reasons, and those are his good days—or weeks or even months—and sometimes, those reasons aren't enough. Even when they should be, they aren't always.
But he's still here either way. He still finds himself back with his own. ]
Turns out, when you're around people, you start listening to what they say. After a while, they might even convince you to stop feeling sorry for yourself.
starting to wrap? 🎀
In some ways, it's a bit of a relief. Deep down, he knows that there's very little that he can do to ensure that those he cares for aren't taken by some sudden accident, even outside of this foolish misstep he's made. With Logan, he'll never have to worry about that.
Yet, all the same, a life without end sounds truly exhausting.
He's glad that Logan has people. He's just not entirely certain of what to do with the idea that he might be one of them, in some way or another.
Wry: ] Fern would be the first to tell you that I don't listen to anyone. But... I am trying. [ Adrian breathes a sigh. ] Was there anything else?
🎀
He'll bet. He shouldn't be surprised. Every doctor's got a stubborn streak a mile wide.
Guess he isn't one to talk. ]
Maybe you oughta start with her.
[ He swings his leg back over his bike. In answer, the engine revs. Nah. He said what he wanted to say. The rest is up to Adrian. ]