sleep doesn't help if it's your soul that's tired
He doesn't see her tears and he barely feels the scratch of the needle against his skin as she begins to take his blood. It's nothing - it's as good as happening to someone else, and he swallows hard only when he realises how dry his throat and his mouth have become. "Did you get my letter?" he asks softly, wondering whether she would have known or cared if he was going away.
Of course he knows, secretly, that she would have cared, but those carefully carved steps forward through the previous seasons have been washed away like the tide over wet sand. There is no forward for Finn that he can see. There is only now, existing one moment to another while someone does something with his body that he's aware of only in the sense that he knows it must be taking place.
"Would you like me to lay down now?" he asks, once three vials have been collected.
Of course he knows, secretly, that she would have cared, but those carefully carved steps forward through the previous seasons have been washed away like the tide over wet sand. There is no forward for Finn that he can see. There is only now, existing one moment to another while someone does something with his body that he's aware of only in the sense that he knows it must be taking place.
"Would you like me to lay down now?" he asks, once three vials have been collected.
FINN
