ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ & ᵉᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗ

@vampyrdoctor asked ;; ‘ When i breathe, i will think of you, for without you i would have been dead years ago, but you have hurt everyone. Everyone whose life you have touched. They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of grief is finite. You, Edgar, no longer have the luxury of time's erasure. ’

“As you have told me before, yes.”

You hurt everyone.

It looks as if his face isn’t too sure if it should frown or give a sullen expression.

It was justified. Edgar knows he wouldn’t escape from the deep grooves he had caused. He would always be reminded of the epidemic; the textbooks and historical relics held the proof. It wasn’t the whole story, but it was enough to usher his eyes away from the plaques and texts with a guilty conscience.

There had been little knowledge about the bond between a maker and their progeny. Edgar had done his research back when he was part of the Brotherhood, as did the others. There had been brief entries but nothing extensive. He didn’t know how loud Jonathan’s voice would be. He couldn’t predict when his voice would occur, but it was daily. Some would be pleasant, yet others frustrated and sometimes they were about the Pembroke. Sometimes about him. It kept Edgar restless during his waking hours, and he had yet to discover a way to silence them. There used to be days when he could only dream to be inside the mind of the brilliant surgeon, but it now only filled his stomach with cement.

Edgar looks at Reid now, standing within the walls of yet another office, another hospital. It was many years after the fact, yet this moment holds some air of familiarity. The man looks the same, which shouldn’t come as a surprise due to their conditions but the doctor still finds some sense of awe about it all, despite the fact. It is the same, yet Jonathan's eyes are cool and judging.

Edgar isn’t foolish. He knows that it couldn’t be outrun or simply put to bed, but he wishes it could be at times, and that had been what Jonathan had pointed out before; this was a punishment.

Features still conflicted, Edgar smooths down his jacket expelling a slow huff of breath through his nose. His gaze leaves Jonathan’s to go back to his things, tucking folders away from the night’s new patients.

“I can assure you that the grief haunts me all the same.” He catches his tongue. Now that Edgar had time to digest his actions, he had thought about what he wanted to say about it all, but his throat goes dry. He wonders if his words about it are acceptable now, or if they would even put an end to it.

He pauses to let out a frustrated, tired sigh, pretending to reread some note he had placed about some woman's bypass surgery before neatly closing up the folder.