What if I need you?
I'm sitting on the floor just inside the big airlock door shivering. The floor is damp, the room is downright icy. The single bulb hardly gives off enough light to see much of anything and Jake flatly refuses to move out of the way so I can talk to Cole in private.
Close enough, Princess.
I've been talking around him for the better part of a half hour and I'm not getting anywhere. Cole won't respond anyway. He's not chatty like Jake. He's never been determined to be helpful or anxious to work with me to see them through this purgatory in order to make it to heaven. I don't know if I even believe there's a heaven anymore.
You can just keep going to the Devil until there's nothing left of you. Jacob interjects again, answering for Cole (he does that a lot) and I finally address him.
Could you not?!
Oh but I can! This affects me as well. You keep putting me in here. Which means I've spent the better part of the past eight years stuck with him. I wouldn't exactly call that the purgatory of your brain, darlin'. I'd probably just skip to the chase and call it hell. And all the while I get to watch my best friends take turns holding my wife.
If you have a complaint about conditions then maybe you should have TAKEN THE ELEVATOR DOWN, JACOB.
Oh, there's the fire. Light it up, Baby. Watch it burn.
Let me finish with Cole. Before I implode. Please.
FINE. But after today, I'm requesting a transfer. Anywhere he isn't.
That's what I'm trying to do. Move him along and then you. So you're not stuck here with me anymore.
He bristled and then softened when he understood. It doesn't hold the same weight for him that it does for me. The joys of being a figment instead of a fragment, I guess.