He thought Alex was probably trying to be reassuring with that, and he needed reassurance, but his panic was less to do with Jesse Manes than it was with suddenly having the thing he'd wanted to tell Alex just...out there, after ten years, without him having any control over how it came out. Kyle, maybe. Or Liz. But he didn't think Liz would have told him, not now. He tried hard to pull air in, managed it, only to have to let it out in a shaky breath.
He was cold, and in the back of his mind, he remembered this feeling, had a sense-memory, an impression, if nothing else, of how he'd felt in the first group home, with people being making sounds that were meaningless and too loud, and pulling him away from Max and Isobel and not understanding them or what they wanted.
This wasn't that--Alex's words, if not his motives, made sense. But the feeling inside was the same, and maybe part of it was the child's terror of Jesse Manes. He'd been hurt before, more than once, but never quite that brutally, never in a way that stripped so much away from him. And maybe it was not knowing what any of this meant to Alex, which meant he should probably turn around and say something, but he couldn't quite manage the first. His mind scrambled for words, at least, and found only questions, and he didn't even know which one to ask first.
"Why?" That wasn't quite right, except it was important. He had to clear his throat, try to speak around the swollen feeling there, and that wasn't much fun, but he thought he maybe kept the trembling out, even though he could see it in his hand, the visible shaking, that made him clutch the rail tighter to make it stop. "What does he--do you--know?" He needed that verification, something certain. "I mean, what did he...why us, and why did you make him leave?"
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He was cold, and in the back of his mind, he remembered this feeling, had a sense-memory, an impression, if nothing else, of how he'd felt in the first group home, with people being making sounds that were meaningless and too loud, and pulling him away from Max and Isobel and not understanding them or what they wanted.
This wasn't that--Alex's words, if not his motives, made sense. But the feeling inside was the same, and maybe part of it was the child's terror of Jesse Manes. He'd been hurt before, more than once, but never quite that brutally, never in a way that stripped so much away from him. And maybe it was not knowing what any of this meant to Alex, which meant he should probably turn around and say something, but he couldn't quite manage the first. His mind scrambled for words, at least, and found only questions, and he didn't even know which one to ask first.
"Why?" That wasn't quite right, except it was important. He had to clear his throat, try to speak around the swollen feeling there, and that wasn't much fun, but he thought he maybe kept the trembling out, even though he could see it in his hand, the visible shaking, that made him clutch the rail tighter to make it stop. "What does he--do you--know?" He needed that verification, something certain. "I mean, what did he...why us, and why did you make him leave?"