[ he's sorry, he says. if roland had come from a world that treated him better, that treated death as something more than a mere inconvenience, he would've taken that laying down. but his fists clench until his knuckles turn white, and he's doing all he can not to punch the good doctor.

so he inhales, and exhales. swallows around the lump forming in his throat, until he can finally unclench - but he doesn't make any attempt in stopping the tears that fall down his face. there's no shame in crying once you've been pushed to that brink, after all. ]

Angelica. [ he manages to croak out. ] She... She used to be a Fixer, like me. But we stopped for a while, to... To settle down. Have a kid. She was coming along, last time I remember.