[ It's not easy for him to grasp, his own self-assurance getting in the way of his already stunted empathy, and if Winter hadn't added those last words, maybe it wouldn't have started to click at all. If his enemies can learn from their mistakes, then so can he, and he's already proven how those who cross him, those who try to kill him wind up. He will come back from it, stronger than ever. He doesn't want to die. He can't die.
Yet when was the last time he asked himself if he wanted to live? That should be more than implied by the opposite being false, but it isn't. It's sticky, slow, like a pit of quicksand that he sinks further into the more he struggles away from it. Why does that bother him? Of course he wants to live.
Of course he does. ]
I... [ No, he doesn't quite have the bluster to rebuff that, lost in his own thoughts as he is. ] That sounds like the same thing to me.
[ He isn't insisting that it is, though. Just that he can't pick apart the difference. ]
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Yet when was the last time he asked himself if he wanted to live? That should be more than implied by the opposite being false, but it isn't. It's sticky, slow, like a pit of quicksand that he sinks further into the more he struggles away from it. Why does that bother him? Of course he wants to live.
Of course he does. ]
I... [ No, he doesn't quite have the bluster to rebuff that, lost in his own thoughts as he is. ] That sounds like the same thing to me.
[ He isn't insisting that it is, though. Just that he can't pick apart the difference. ]