[SEASONAL EVENT] When you try your best but you don't succeed

Samuel Tell me little dear if you've only lived here, have you ever really lived at all? "Yes?" He answered faintly, hardly more than a breath, at the call of his name. The response was more automatic than everything else, Sam's actual soul lost somewhere underneath the overwhelming everything of the situation. Sam vaguely recognised the voice and blurry figure above him, but not enough for it to mean anything in particular to him. But the warmth of being picked up, the comfort of feeling seen to and protected...he leaned close into the chest of the person holding him, breathing them in and trying to ground himself with the scent. They were real. This was real. He whined as he was put down on the table away from the comforting warmth. This was cold, felt more clinical; suddenly he was reminded of his pain (it seemed he was only able to focus on his mental or physical anguish one at a time, as if both at once would just be too much) and cried out, curled up on the table and clasped at his head, the fluid from his hair and hands dripping to a dark pool on the table's surface.