I suppose it doesn't matter. We only have one life to live as our own. They aren't us.
[As pleasant as the idea might seem, he expected that it also could be a lot worse. Those versions of them - if they existed at all - could have lived better lives, or they could have lived worse ones. Maybe Maul could have been so much more or him or Feral... or they could have been reduced so much less in their lives. He had lived his life, and he had few regrets with the decisions that he had made so he'd stick with what he knew.
His eyes flicked up when Maul leaned over him, an annoyed frown twisting his lips at his brother's concern over his lack of appetite. He knew it came from a good place, but he was frayed emotionally and mentally and the fretting sometimes just reminded him that he should be better by now.
Instead of answering, he just pressed his face into Maul's chest like a needy kit and kept it buried there while his brother decided to get food anyway. His arm tightened around his brother's waist instead of committing one way or another to the idea of food. He should eat, but he didn't have an appetite.
His hand splayed across Maul's back at the stricken sound of his brother's voice to his request. It was unfair to ask that of Maul; it was unfair to ask it of anyone that cared for him, but if it came down to it, he actually wanted to die than feel that oily presence sliding through his mind, his flesh, corrupting every pleasant memory.]
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[As pleasant as the idea might seem, he expected that it also could be a lot worse. Those versions of them - if they existed at all - could have lived better lives, or they could have lived worse ones. Maybe Maul could have been so much more or him or Feral... or they could have been reduced so much less in their lives. He had lived his life, and he had few regrets with the decisions that he had made so he'd stick with what he knew.
His eyes flicked up when Maul leaned over him, an annoyed frown twisting his lips at his brother's concern over his lack of appetite. He knew it came from a good place, but he was frayed emotionally and mentally and the fretting sometimes just reminded him that he should be better by now.
Instead of answering, he just pressed his face into Maul's chest like a needy kit and kept it buried there while his brother decided to get food anyway. His arm tightened around his brother's waist instead of committing one way or another to the idea of food. He should eat, but he didn't have an appetite.
His hand splayed across Maul's back at the stricken sound of his brother's voice to his request. It was unfair to ask that of Maul; it was unfair to ask it of anyone that cared for him, but if it came down to it, he actually wanted to die than feel that oily presence sliding through his mind, his flesh, corrupting every pleasant memory.]
I'd... do it myself if he would have let me...