Playing through Murdoch's route

"What the hell was that?"

The fox's expression seemed distant.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean why do you let her talk to you like that?"

"Oh."

"That's just normal."

"She's always like that."

"I just tune it out after a while."

"She has her ways of getting things done, and so do I."
"That's all."

"I won't let it be your problem."

I could feel my mouth break into a scowl.

"I won't either."

---

"Just an overcast of ill humors."

My jaw drops as I stare back at him.
"Ill humors?"

I'm mumbling.

"Ill humors?!"

He puts both paws on mine and squeezes.

His voice is harsh.

"Not just."

"I've lived most of my life in this town, but I spent some of my summers elsewhere."

"So I know that... unique things happen here."

"And I don't think it's just sometimes."

"I think it's all of the time."

"Incrementally."

"Dot by dot."

"Inch by inch."

"And in a town where people are constantly being touched, and remade... slowly..."

"A case of the bad humors is a lot less threatening to say..."

"Does that make sense?"

No!

It doesn't!

But I nod anyway.

And I keep crying anyway.

And he doesn't holding me.

"This place changes us."
"Unless we notice, and choose to change ourselves, first."

"Change how?"

Murdoch pulls away from me and crosses his arms.

"Well..."

"There's lots of ways."

"I've found some that feel like they work for me."

He frowns.

"We may already have some in common."

---

Murdoch snorted.

"The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Guess you would probably call it bein' selfish or some such Catholic crock of shit."
"But then again, it's the kind of thing that reminds me I'd never be in any kind of situation like the one you're in right now."
"Your family's fucking atrocious."

"They didn't used to be."
"You weren't around when they used to be good to me."
"I used to think my mother was the smartest woman in the world."

"She used to read to me."
"And my dad used to build all sorts of things with me."

"Waterproof boats and, tree forts with windows."

"So did they change, or did you just grow up?"

"I don't know, Sam."
"These are just my memories, and I miss them."
"What else do I have?"

"What else do you want?"

He looks at me.
He's trembling, and the muscles in his face strain.

Then he shuts his eyelids, squeezing them tight.

"I want to be told I'm doing a good job."

"You're doing a good job."

He laughs at that.

Yappy, shrieking guffaws.

Which turn into loud sobs.

Tears are pouring out of his eyes as he's bent over the vest, holding it with strained claws, like he's going to tear it if he adds any more pressure.

His mouth opens in a silent scream.

Then he stops, very suddenly.

He cleans his face with the back of his sleeve.

And he looks at me, red-eyed but calm.

"I'm... sorry you had to see that."

"What?"
"No..."
"It's just emotions."

"Those are just ordinary."

"What's not is when you just..."

"What?"

"When you act as if you suddenly don't have them."

"Like you're shutting them off and start to act completely different... within seconds."

Murdoch frowns.

"You've... never had to do that?"

"Not really?"

"No."

"Especially not for ordinary things."

"Like being sad."

"I see."

"...I want something else, then."

"Like what?"

"A kiss for free."

"A dream of you waking up in my bed every day."

"A memory of you, holding me so tight for no other reason than you want me."

---

"It's very simple."

"I understand what you're saying."

"I just think it's a terrifying way to live."

"Now why's that?"

"Because I don't trust your family one bit."

"But I do."

"There's something wrong with them, Murdoch. They're nuts."

"They're all brilliant, actually."
"They just aren't always kind."

"Now there's an understatement."

"If you don't trust them, can you at least trust me?"

"I'll trust you if you face the possibility that they'll hurt you."

"...what?"

"Can you look me in the eye and tell me that they may not love you?

"SAM!"

"Do you want my sympathy, or do you want my trust?"

He looks me in the eye for a moment, then looks away.
"Well, I, ah..."
"Hrm."

"Tell me they might not love you."

He swallows.
"Alright."

"Alright, what?"

"What you said is possible."

Finally.
That's at least something.
"I never said it's the complete truth."
"I just need to know that you can prepare for the worst."

"Preparation is one asset I'm consistently valued for."
"Though I prefer not to meet the conditions of those circumstances."

"But what if you already have?"

"Then I'm already prepared."

"I just don't think that's the state of things."