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It's been only a few days since the funeral and Porthos hasn't left bed for anything more than the bare essentials. He's gone to the washroom, fed himself, and then trundled back to bed with the comforter slung over his shoulders like it can protect him. Loss isn't new to him, but it has become fairly infrequent. It's something strange for it to happen here, where he'd thought themselves so safe, but here they are.
It's like a punch to the gut, something that he hadn't been anticipating, but now that Tommy's gone, he has to deal with the reminder that just because they're in a more tolerant future, it's not perfect. Death can happen, just like anything else, and no one is exempt. On day three, he feels like he should get up and do something more than poke around in bed with Lucie when she's placed there, but he still feels too heavy, too sad, too worn to do anything but lie there and think about Tommy and the last time he'd seen him.
All that he wished was that he could've made him happier, that he could have been there to celebrate an engagement instead of try and make him feel better about what happened. Now, he's gone. He's not going to find his next person, because he's dead. It'd been for a good cause, but that doesn't undo it. Shifting with the covers to tug them over his head, he wishes he could feel better, but he's just too tired.
It's like a punch to the gut, something that he hadn't been anticipating, but now that Tommy's gone, he has to deal with the reminder that just because they're in a more tolerant future, it's not perfect. Death can happen, just like anything else, and no one is exempt. On day three, he feels like he should get up and do something more than poke around in bed with Lucie when she's placed there, but he still feels too heavy, too sad, too worn to do anything but lie there and think about Tommy and the last time he'd seen him.
All that he wished was that he could've made him happier, that he could have been there to celebrate an engagement instead of try and make him feel better about what happened. Now, he's gone. He's not going to find his next person, because he's dead. It'd been for a good cause, but that doesn't undo it. Shifting with the covers to tug them over his head, he wishes he could feel better, but he's just too tired.