"Talk to you about what?" Booker didn't know how to put his grief into words that would make her understand. None of them had lost children. None of them had watched their child die while they had the power to save them if they could just figure out how to share it.
None of them chose to go back to their family and watch them die one by one. The memories haunted Booker. And then two hundred years of dreaming about Quynh on top of that it was a wonder he was still sane.
"The happiest I ever was... was being a father. No parent should outlive their child. I lost all three because I couldn't give this to them." It should have been his sons, not him, that had this. They would've done more. "I can't remember my wife's face clearly anymore. I can see Jean-Pierre but only while he's cursing me. My other sons are vague. It hurts."
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Date: 2020-09-12 03:36 am (UTC)None of them chose to go back to their family and watch them die one by one. The memories haunted Booker. And then two hundred years of dreaming about Quynh on top of that it was a wonder he was still sane.
"The happiest I ever was... was being a father. No parent should outlive their child. I lost all three because I couldn't give this to them." It should have been his sons, not him, that had this. They would've done more. "I can't remember my wife's face clearly anymore. I can see Jean-Pierre but only while he's cursing me. My other sons are vague. It hurts."