[Cassel is crying, too, but he doesn't realize it until he feels teardrops falling on the top of his head. Even then, it takes him a while to parse how, exactly, and why - what is the purpose of this sadness, where did it come from? But in the end, it's not buried so deeply.]
[He has always wanted to be loved. Wanted to wrench love from the jaws of uselessness. Here, now, in this place, on this ship, there's so little about him that's useful. He's not that strong or fast or clever, comparatively; he isn't even usefully cruel, not anymore. The version of Chris that is here doesn't want any part of him anymore, and he can't trust anyone else. He can't. Not even Slevin, really.]
[But Slevin can love him in this small way, right here and right now, because there's no one else to love either of them now. Slevin can be what Cassel has always so desperately wanted and never got, because Philip had bigger plans, because Philip hated him, because Philip died. Because Philip always left him behind, for one reason or another.]
[It isn't fair to Slevin, but what Cassel feels is rarely fair to anyone. So he cries into Slevin's shoulder in the dark, dingy building with desert all around them, and he is wildly, wickedly unfair, but he's with family, even if only in the privacy of his own head.]
Spam
[He has always wanted to be loved. Wanted to wrench love from the jaws of uselessness. Here, now, in this place, on this ship, there's so little about him that's useful. He's not that strong or fast or clever, comparatively; he isn't even usefully cruel, not anymore. The version of Chris that is here doesn't want any part of him anymore, and he can't trust anyone else. He can't. Not even Slevin, really.]
[But Slevin can love him in this small way, right here and right now, because there's no one else to love either of them now. Slevin can be what Cassel has always so desperately wanted and never got, because Philip had bigger plans, because Philip hated him, because Philip died. Because Philip always left him behind, for one reason or another.]
[It isn't fair to Slevin, but what Cassel feels is rarely fair to anyone. So he cries into Slevin's shoulder in the dark, dingy building with desert all around them, and he is wildly, wickedly unfair, but he's with family, even if only in the privacy of his own head.]