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Judgment doesn't have to be something someone else puts onto you. -- Ink and watercolor on watercolor paper, 9inch by 12inch
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Robby/Abbot, “why not me?”
I am so sorry anon this got SAD.
When Robby says, voice hollow and cracking, after a long enough shared silence that Jack half hoped he might have finally been sleeping, “I gave her my ticket,” Jack knows what he means, instantly — and he knows what he means.
Jack’s felt it himself, coming home from a war zone minus half a leg and a handful of men. The unshakeable, deep belief: it’s not fair, it should have been me.
He knows there’s nothing he can say this soon that will land. Instead, he does all he can, tightening his grip on Robby’s hand and tethering him, holding him, waiting out the night until Robby finally drifts into a restless sleep.
