Damian remained kneeling on cold stone, tears still running down his face in thin streams that refused to stop no matter how hard he tried.
His hands pressed against the floor, fingers spreading across its surface.
'Dammit...'
The thought formed sharp and cutting, digging into his awareness.
'Stop being so weak, you pathetic piece of shit.'
His jaw clenched hard, his hands curling into fists against the floor.
'There's no need to cry. No need to mourn them like they're gone forever, like this is permanent.'
His nails dug into his palms, drawing blood that welled up between his fingers.
'They're not lost. Not in any way that matters, not in any way that can't be undone if you just–'
His breathing quickened, the thoughts tumbling faster now, desperate and clawing.
'We will get everyone back! Every single one of them!'
His head lifted slowly, crimson hair falling away from his face.
'So get up, Damian! Snap out of it! Pull yourself together and stand the fuck up!'
