[ The thing about survivor's guilt? It's not logical. The mind's response to trauma as a whole makes no sense, but the stages of survivor's guilt are something she is all too familiar with. The guilt over staying alive while people all around her died. The guilt of not doing more to keep those people safe. And, all too quickly, the guilt over what she had done — not to protect everyone, but to protect just one person.
She shouldn't tell him. No one should ever know this secret. But he holds her so gently, each touch trying to smooth the rough edges of her soul, that without her permission, her mouth opens and the words come out. ]
I would have let them die to save him.
[ It takes everything in her not to bury herself in his arms again. The temptation to wrap herself around him and never let go is so strong that she nearly takes a physical step back, his hands on her the only thing keeping her where she stands.
She didn't do enough. She couldn't. Not when only one of them might have a chance. ]
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She shouldn't tell him. No one should ever know this secret. But he holds her so gently, each touch trying to smooth the rough edges of her soul, that without her permission, her mouth opens and the words come out. ]
I would have let them die to save him.
[ It takes everything in her not to bury herself in his arms again. The temptation to wrap herself around him and never let go is so strong that she nearly takes a physical step back, his hands on her the only thing keeping her where she stands.
She didn't do enough. She couldn't. Not when only one of them might have a chance. ]