lightconductor | IC Inbox

[...He doesn't want to talk about this. It hurts to have to talk about this, and not hide everything. He wishes he could retreat away into his dreams... but he gave that up for a reason.

He has to keep going.]

He got upset when we played the hangman game. He was worried about Rich, so he texted him... and his cell phone rang outside the door.

I couldn't get away in time. I was so scared about what would happen if he found out that I... killed him.

That was a very foolish thing to do, you know. César would not have done anything rash.

[Listen to him. He does sound like a dad, and also he's lecturing a... ghost. thing.]

Of course we're worried about Rich. We aren't quite sure what's going on, and you are... in his body, as you say.

...I know. I really am sorry... I don't want anyone hurt. But I don't really know what's going on either.

[His grip on the knife lessens, and he looks a little choked up.]

I just... want to find my family.

[Watson, gun lowered, takes a small step forward.]

And who is your family, then?

My sister... my older sister is my only real family. But... some of my friends count too.

[He looks away again, but at least he doesn't step back.]

I was hopeful you'd be my family too.

Friends certainly count as family, when they're close.

[Another small step forward.]

And what would happen to Rich?

We were all really close... before...

[He hesitates. The truth is... what will happen to Rich likely wouldn't be accepted by them. And he'd feel awful to lie to this kind man about it... almost as awful as it would feel to lose that kindness.

He backs away and shakes his head.]

...He'll be okay. That place is happier. You can't get hurt there. I-If you want, I can let you go there too.

And what place would that be?

[Yeah, he's not going to jump into that offer.]

Pain is part of life. I know that better than most. If that means Rich would die, then I don't think either of us want that, do we?

[A careful step forward.]

What should I call you?

...We called it Headspace. It was... a place where all our friends were safe and happy. We could all go on adventures together. No one ever got hurt... no one ever had to confront anything painful.

[The boy in Rich's body hugs himself.]

You don't understand. He isn't dead... but he can't come out and face you, I don't think. He's not strong enough... he needed someone else to handle it for him instead.

[His arms tighten around himself, and he breathes out, slowly.]

Can't we just... pretend I'm Rich, too?

We could pretend, but surely neither of us would be very happy living a lie.

[Another step closer, and he ventures to hold out his hand.]

Why don't you give me that knife, lad?

['Rich' starts to slowly pass the knife over, but his hand is shaking.]

...What about your son? Can't I pretend to be that? P-Please?

[His own hand trembles a little. Part of him would definitely spring on the chance to adopt also this murderghostboy, which probably says a lot about him.]

And leave Rich in that other place? That wouldn't be fair to him. Now, if we could separate the two of you, that might be a different story.

[He reaches to take the knife, moving slow.]

...Y-You still don't understand.

[The boy freezes in place, unable to comprehend what he's hearing.

Rich is still the 'real' son. He isn't good enough. They'll always, always pick Rich over him.

And he'll always be left alone, no matter how terrifying that is for him.

The blade clatters to the ground, and the boy in Rich's body is already turning to bolt away.]

W-wait!

[Watson reaches out after him, hesitating on what to call him. This is probably useless, though.]

No! I get it. You don't want me.

So I don't have to care what happens to you.

[He turns away again, and this time, he doesn't bother to look back when he runs away.]

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