Chester is still in the Ruins. It's been established that they are also in this house...but different to mine. Here's a transcript of a conversation we had during one of his lucid periods. It's, um...see for yourself.
His voice is functional now although it hurts him to speak and his hearing has nearly returned. He's, well...he's finding it harder than I did. He's a lot more sensitive than I am, and...I'm relieved that he's more responsive now.
I got maybe three hours sleep last night. I would have been online the entire time, but around 9.30 Chester suddenly grabbed my wrist (gave me a fucking heart attack) and went, well...transcript below.
V: *loudly* Shit, Chess, that gave me a fright. You alright?
C: Compared to how I am, normally- awful. Compared to how I've been for the past few hours- not bad. *coughs*
*insert pause while I burst into tears out of sheer relief and spend the next ten minutes ranting at him about how worried I was, what an idiot he is, how worried EVERYONE is...*
C: ...I'm an idiot. Stop crying. You shouldn't be crying over an idiot like me.
V: You're not an idiot and I'll cry over you all I like!
V: No buts. How did you figure out you were in the Ruins?
C: You were playing Resolve, and I couldn't figure out where it was coming from, and then I realised that my vision is fine even though I'm not wearing my glasses...
V: I see. Why do you keep running around the house, and why won't you go into some rooms?
C: *drowsily* The key, I need the key...they're locked, they can't come in...they need to come in, I need to help them, they're outside and I can't help them, they're locked out and you have the key...and you keep running away, Vivi...why are you running away? You're dying, Vivi, and I need to help you, and I need the key so I can help them too...
He spent the rest of the night alternating between talking along those lines, walking around the house, and sleeping.
He won't let go of my hand.
I don't know. When I was in there, he knew exactly what would help bring me back. He held me and stroked my hair when I had convulsions, he stayed calm the entire time, he knew exactly what he was doing. He's that kind of person. He's more capable than me in some ways. I mean, I'm more open about my emotions than he is, but that's because I just can't deal with them internally. I can't. (See the post "i don't" to see exactly HOW badly I reacted to Chester confessing. It was not pretty.) So if there's something wrong, it's easy for people trying to help to deal with it. Chester...retreats. He tries to deal with it himself, even if he knows it's a damn stupid idea and he needs someone to lean on.
Oh, fuck me. (Chester, if you read this later, you are not to misconstruct this as an invitation. (My sense of humour just keeps getting weirder... (I like putting sets of brackets inside each other!)))