I knew for so long when I'd die. I planned my entire life around it. I never made any long-term plans because I wasn't supposed to be alive past thirty-five. Back home, I stay dead. I could tell by the way Dave looked at me when he saw me. How he talked.

[ he doesn't know what to do with living, now. he always had a purpose, an end goal, and now? the expanse of more time than he deserves is spread before him and he has no idea what's going to happen.

connor speaking again pulls him out of his worries though, and his brow furrows. just a little. ]

... Yeah.

[ it takes a strong emotion to wake up from the normal dreams while the nightmares take synchrony; this isn't a nightmare so all it really takes is the feeling of helplessness over the passage of time paired with connor's words to get him to finally wake, sweating and briefly disoriented.

... ah, fuck. connor's probably going to want to talk about this.

he's going to stare at the ceiling and hope he's safe from that eventuality, but he's not hopeful. ]