KORBIN
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
To make you bow and spit it out?
It was a tall order. Chulane was asking him to do what he had never been able to before, at a time when Korbin was at his absolute lowest point. It felt like his legs had been carved off above the knees and now he was told to dance on the bleeding stumps, like it was the natural thing to do. But it wasn't. Not to this boy, who had grown so used to shifting his dependency around just to survive. When the mother left, when the father fell ill and rotted before their eyes...
His only place of absolute independence had been the terrible weeks after Erebor died where Weaver still lay dying in sickbed, and no one believed she would pull through. There had been no one else to lean on then. People had helped, but the decisions had been his. Korbin vaguely recognized that much, but that memory was a nightmare he was not keen to recall.
Now he was back there. And it was so much worse than he remembered because now he didn't even have hope left. Weaver was dead and the pain... oh gods, the pain of that was more than he could bear.
"But... why would I want to?" he gasped, bewildered, lost, so fucking tired... but the tears did not stop and he couldn't calm down. "If this is all there is... I don't want it." He didn't have a purpose, didn't know how to find one, didn't particularly want to try for one. Korbin couldn't see any reason why he should dig his way out of this pit, because the outside would be just as black.
Without a guiding light... he would just be lost. Staggering blindly to no use.
His only place of absolute independence had been the terrible weeks after Erebor died where Weaver still lay dying in sickbed, and no one believed she would pull through. There had been no one else to lean on then. People had helped, but the decisions had been his. Korbin vaguely recognized that much, but that memory was a nightmare he was not keen to recall.
Now he was back there. And it was so much worse than he remembered because now he didn't even have hope left. Weaver was dead and the pain... oh gods, the pain of that was more than he could bear.
"But... why would I want to?" he gasped, bewildered, lost, so fucking tired... but the tears did not stop and he couldn't calm down. "If this is all there is... I don't want it." He didn't have a purpose, didn't know how to find one, didn't particularly want to try for one. Korbin couldn't see any reason why he should dig his way out of this pit, because the outside would be just as black.
Without a guiding light... he would just be lost. Staggering blindly to no use.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Nothing makes you turn around
