He took the papers, and stared. First at the words, even as her words sunk into his mind 'how much longer...' lingered in the air between them. For a moment he felt like he was eighteen, being faced with a girl he'd accidentally knocked up and they were trying to decide what to do. Back then, he would have probably begged her for an abortion and never told anyone.
She turned the pages for him, his hands didn't seem to want to work as he held on to the papers as if it were some sort of life raft set drift in the Pacific. A child her age, foster care, cancer... Ty stared at the papers for a moment, before turning it back to the medical record were, and stared at them more as if he couldn't quite fathom it.
He could feel his heart clinching, his chest tightening in a way he didn't often feel. And as his chest clinched, his heart started to race, and it felt as if someone had dropped a elephant into his lap that was slowly crushing the air out of them. Every exhale inched him closer to being unable to breathe in again. Combat had never left him nearly so paralyzed, and for a long moment he wished he were in Iran- he wished this was all some dream he was having after a mortar went off too close to where he was standing.
This can't be real, he thought, his head shaking a little bit. And while the panic began to take hold, so too did the wild irritation at Alena. The medication made the moods easier to manage, it did not stop the full brunt of the triggered mood swing. The panic heightened his awareness, he imagined, and his grip grew tighter on the papers as he stood suddenly to put space between them.
He just needed to breathe. God, he just needed air.
"Foster care?" Was all he could manage to get out, feeling trapped in a small box suddenly. If all she'd wanted was to say 'this is your kid', he thought he could deal with that. But this was more than that, wasn't it? She was dying, he thought as he looked down at the medical records in his hand. "You....How did you even find me?"
no subject
She turned the pages for him, his hands didn't seem to want to work as he held on to the papers as if it were some sort of life raft set drift in the Pacific. A child her age, foster care, cancer... Ty stared at the papers for a moment, before turning it back to the medical record were, and stared at them more as if he couldn't quite fathom it.
He could feel his heart clinching, his chest tightening in a way he didn't often feel. And as his chest clinched, his heart started to race, and it felt as if someone had dropped a elephant into his lap that was slowly crushing the air out of them. Every exhale inched him closer to being unable to breathe in again. Combat had never left him nearly so paralyzed, and for a long moment he wished he were in Iran- he wished this was all some dream he was having after a mortar went off too close to where he was standing.
This can't be real, he thought, his head shaking a little bit. And while the panic began to take hold, so too did the wild irritation at Alena. The medication made the moods easier to manage, it did not stop the full brunt of the triggered mood swing. The panic heightened his awareness, he imagined, and his grip grew tighter on the papers as he stood suddenly to put space between them.
He just needed to breathe. God, he just needed air.
"Foster care?" Was all he could manage to get out, feeling trapped in a small box suddenly. If all she'd wanted was to say 'this is your kid', he thought he could deal with that. But this was more than that, wasn't it? She was dying, he thought as he looked down at the medical records in his hand. "You....How did you even find me?"