"Oh, Edgar..." Max can't help but squeeze him tight. "Of course, you wanted him to save you. Of course, you did."
Who wouldn't? Who wouldn't want, irrationally, to be saved? That doesn't mean he didn't also want Curtis to win and to complete the mission. In Max's mind, both can be true at once, so he would stand by his words.
Despite knowing the kind of world Edgar left, he would still send the man back if he could. Too young. He was just so young to have died. It wasn't fair.
"But I'm glad I met you too. I'm just glad that, if it has to be this way, I can know you and hold you. I want to do anything I can for you, to make your life here as good as it can be. That's what I really want for you."
Abruptly just having Max's arms around him isn't enough; he shifts, squirms one arm out from between their bodies, wraps both of his arms around Max in turn and hugs him hard.
"Y'already done so much," he says blurrily into Max's shoulder.
And then, with a half-choked, close-to-tears laugh: "You brought me cake."
Max laughs into Edgar's shoulder too, where he's held tight. "Yeah. And we haven't even cut into it yet."
He'll wait until Edgar seems like he's ready to let go, however long that may be, and then he will finally start serving them the cake. That's just what they need, some chocolate and sugar therapy. Something to take the bitter edge off.
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Who wouldn't? Who wouldn't want, irrationally, to be saved? That doesn't mean he didn't also want Curtis to win and to complete the mission. In Max's mind, both can be true at once, so he would stand by his words.
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For a moment that's all, and for a moment it's enough: someone knows, someone understands.
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"It's okay," he coos softly. "I'm here. And I love you, and I want you to know that. You don't have to face this pain alone."
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"Love you too," he manages finally, muffled. "I didn't -- christ, I didn't want to die. I didn't want to die like that --"
Another pause, as he swallows down the burning lump in his throat.
"But I'm glad I came here. I'm glad I met you."
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Despite knowing the kind of world Edgar left, he would still send the man back if he could. Too young. He was just so young to have died. It wasn't fair.
"But I'm glad I met you too. I'm just glad that, if it has to be this way, I can know you and hold you. I want to do anything I can for you, to make your life here as good as it can be. That's what I really want for you."
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"Y'already done so much," he says blurrily into Max's shoulder.
And then, with a half-choked, close-to-tears laugh: "You brought me cake."
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He'll wait until Edgar seems like he's ready to let go, however long that may be, and then he will finally start serving them the cake. That's just what they need, some chocolate and sugar therapy. Something to take the bitter edge off.
"Happy cake day, Edgar."