Quoted By:
"Teddy," Tent Guy says, "I've administered this hundreds of times. You—"
"Maybe your goddamn bottle went bad?!"
"—you're not having a heart attack. The bottle didn't go bad. You're within the observation period. Are you certain this isn't just the onset of...?"
"I-I-It's not the onset of anything," you snap, "except my goddamn <span class="mu-i">heart</span> giving— you said it's not harmful. I-I-Is this supposed to be <span class="mu-i">not harmful?</span>"
"If you relax, Teddy, it's not harmful." Tent Guy scratches his cheek. "Are you letting it happen? You should sit down."
You've been pacing and clouding around yourself. (You can't stay stuck in a goddamn coat when you're <span class="mu-i">dying.</span> Tent Guy hasn't noticed the extra beetles or doesn't care.) This only makes you pace faster. "I-I-I-I-I should <span class="mu-i">sit down?</span> Gee fucking whillikers! Maybe when I stop— I stop—" The pain in your chest is only worsening. "Maybe when I-I-I stop dying, I can, I can, I can— what the hell are you doing?!" He's left his side of the table. "Stay <span class="mu-i">away</span> from me!"
"Teddy, I never like having to do this." Tent Guy is approaching empty-handed. "But it's one of my jobs to—"
"Call the goddamn <span class="mu-i">medics?!</span>"
"—ensure this goes safely, even if it means robbing you of that little first moment of..." he shakes his head. "You're more resistant than you looked. It happens. But <span class="mu-i">please</span> relax, and I'll give you a little kick-start to the—"
Relax? You don't relax. If you relax you start forgetting your own name and age and birthday, Tent Guy. Does he realize that? In all his infinite wisdom? If you relax you're not you anymore. Not a you you recognize.
And you don't deserve it, either. But none of these excellent reasons stop Tent Guy from cornering you and putting his thumbs to your temples (goddamn sock him! knee him in the crotch and make a break for it), and none of your finely honed self-control stops your eyes from rolling up, up, back in your sockets. You buckle. Light pours through you and every one of your beetles.
And then what do you say?
You know what you would've said. How you would've framed it. You can <span class="mu-i">hear</span> yourself framing it, all justify, justify, justify, downplay, downplay, downplay, you didn't <span class="mu-i">really</span> feel anything it's a goddamn manse, it's a trick, even if the gods exist they're dead as goddamn doornails anyhow, even if you <span class="mu-i">did</span> feel something you were too smart to really buy it, to really buy into it, you maintained the perfect ironic distance the whole time: so you're not embarrassed, so it's not embarrassing, so you didn't show any vulnerability or weakness or human feeling to outside observers or especially yourself. You <span class="mu-i">controlled</span> yourself. You were calm. You were <span class="mu-i">chill.</span>
(3/4)
