may the bridges i have burned light my way back home

Isla take your medicine He's a knitted patchwork of trauma and abuse, Isla realises, and it runs deeper and more completely than she could have anticipated. Whether the mistake with his medicine had been accidental or otherwise, the medic cannot help but feel that it is an unbearably cruel thing to happen to someone with so many skeletons already in their closet, waiting to be baited out. "What a remarkably callous thing to do," she says softly as he continues to explain, Isla nibbling gently at the inside of her cheek. "Do you think that is why they let you hold her? Because they were always planning to make you live?" she wonders, before raising a hand in apology. "You don't have to answer that. I tend to think out loud." Letting her gaze drop to her hands, Isla furrows her brow. "Quite the family you have," she remarks. "And how did that go?"