[The pain, the uncertainty, the self-doubt hit him like an electrical current, and Atem can't lie -- it does hurt. It does hurt, to feel these feelings, even if they aren't his. He takes in a deep breath, and then another, to calm himself, steady himself--
--but, he thinks, it's worth it.
Atem's arms go to his own shoulders, his own upper-arms, and grip, tight. He's upset, and it hurts, but...
...but, he can tell which feelings aren't his.
The wave breaks over him, but doesn't knock him down.
Atem breathes in, and out, and knows he doesn't dislike or doubt himself. He's not uncertain about accepting these feelings. Even suffering from the sort of attacks he's undergone -- even recognizing when he's made mistakes -- Atem isn't conflicted. His eyes stay shut, his arms stay wrapped around his chest.]
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--but, he thinks, it's worth it.
Atem's arms go to his own shoulders, his own upper-arms, and grip, tight. He's upset, and it hurts, but...
...but, he can tell which feelings aren't his.
The wave breaks over him, but doesn't knock him down.
Atem breathes in, and out, and knows he doesn't dislike or doubt himself. He's not uncertain about accepting these feelings. Even suffering from the sort of attacks he's undergone -- even recognizing when he's made mistakes -- Atem isn't conflicted. His eyes stay shut, his arms stay wrapped around his chest.]
I'm here. It's okay.
You can feel my hands, right?