[ The hiss catches his attention. Amos turns back to Himeka to see her in distress, eyes squeezed shut, gripping at her temples, bread rolls forgotten and his fishing pole along with them. The rod falls against the rock as he abandons it, turning to kneel beside Himeka, concern written over his features. ]
Hime?
[ It's probably a brain thing, is his first thought. He doesn't know shit about medicine. He can patch up external wounds, not. Fuck. The medical care here is so far behind what he's used to, and even if it wasn't they're in the middle of nowhere, and. Fuck.
There's a brief flash of a boy, younger than five, maybe one of the first things he remembers, but it's hazy, unclear, almost like a dream — not real except for the part where he knows on some level, in some way, this happened — that his mom is dead and Lydia is looking after him now, and it's gone before he can really even think about it. The impression of the memory is on his skin, and then it evaporates like it was never even there. Might as well have never happened, but for the feeling that his heart hurts, not the literal muscle, just. These aren't things he really. Feels.
Except Himeka's not dead, and the worst is over. He thinks. Hopes. Or else they're probably fucked.
Amos is kneeling beside her; he reaches out to touch her but only makes it so far as his hand hovering over her shoulder, like he'll fuck that up. His voice is soft, though. ] You okay?
cw brief mention of parental death
Hime?
[ It's probably a brain thing, is his first thought. He doesn't know shit about medicine. He can patch up external wounds, not. Fuck. The medical care here is so far behind what he's used to, and even if it wasn't they're in the middle of nowhere, and. Fuck.
There's a brief flash of a boy, younger than five, maybe one of the first things he remembers, but it's hazy, unclear, almost like a dream — not real except for the part where he knows on some level, in some way, this happened — that his mom is dead and Lydia is looking after him now, and it's gone before he can really even think about it. The impression of the memory is on his skin, and then it evaporates like it was never even there. Might as well have never happened, but for the feeling that his heart hurts, not the literal muscle, just. These aren't things he really. Feels.
Except Himeka's not dead, and the worst is over. He thinks. Hopes. Or else they're probably fucked.
Amos is kneeling beside her; he reaches out to touch her but only makes it so far as his hand hovering over her shoulder, like he'll fuck that up. His voice is soft, though. ] You okay?