[The panic in Hank's voice breaks through the anger at the end there, cracking right into the middle of the word, and Hank's eyes dart over Connor's shoulder, trying to figure out if he has enough room, if he could make it, if he was fast enough.]
What if it's not your decision to make, Connor? What if this shit's private? What if I don't want you to fuckin know!
[That last word's harsh with effort as he shoves at the bed. In Hank's head, with the confidence of the fairly drunk, Hank imagines moving the bed would stagger Connor long enough for Hank to get to his feet and be out the door and be- Where, after that? Who cares. Out of arm's reach.
That's what Hank imagines. What really goes down is this: Hank falls on his ass. Hank scrambles to his feet. Hank's shin slams against the corner of the bed and he heads down toward the floor and failure. That's reality. Reality's tough. Even in a sort-of coma dream in your own head, things don't always go the way you want. That's life.]
no subject
[The panic in Hank's voice breaks through the anger at the end there, cracking right into the middle of the word, and Hank's eyes dart over Connor's shoulder, trying to figure out if he has enough room, if he could make it, if he was fast enough.]
What if it's not your decision to make, Connor? What if this shit's private? What if I don't want you to fuckin know!
[That last word's harsh with effort as he shoves at the bed. In Hank's head, with the confidence of the fairly drunk, Hank imagines moving the bed would stagger Connor long enough for Hank to get to his feet and be out the door and be- Where, after that? Who cares. Out of arm's reach.
That's what Hank imagines. What really goes down is this: Hank falls on his ass. Hank scrambles to his feet. Hank's shin slams against the corner of the bed and he heads down toward the floor and failure. That's reality. Reality's tough. Even in a sort-of coma dream in your own head, things don't always go the way you want. That's life.]