It wasn't within him to think much of himself -- it wasn't within him to ever consider the possibilities that he was better than anyone. He would never think that way - just couldn't, and found it difficult to agree with Bleu that Dexter was a monster when he himself knew what monsters really looked like. On the contrary, he couldn't imagine what it must have been like to be in her position - he wasn't a woman but he did know what heartbreak was. He had seen his mother broken from it, unable to run from it, an inescapable monster that consumed you whole and left nothing...not even the marrow in your bones. There was no way to comfort her, even clueless Arcus knew this, and so...he did what anyone sober enough would do.

"Well -- everything is a bit sucky right now." He reiterated, and yes, he used the word 'sucky' rather seriously. "I mean...we're going to have a baby --together, I just...I need to know if you'll be having that baby here or....somewhere else." And he did not hold a tone of negativity in that curiosity, his expression almost childish then as he nervously said it. "I need to know I can protect that baby and you while you're carrying it. Right now you need to just stop feeling...and exist for awhile...Exist with yourself. Learn yourself and learn what you can do. There's no order here -- no part you need to play other than be yourself and worry for yourself. It's okay to be a little selfish."

Because the last thing Bleu needs to do is tumble down another rabbit hole after another man -- especially one that doesn't have his own shit together. Slowly, Arcus turned his eyes back on her and sighed softly. "Tell me a story. A good one...one that you remember fondly about yourself." Because no one has lived in a complete Hell before - not even Arcus despite how paranoid he spends his life.

A R C U S
Love of love written by the broken hearted, love of life written by the dead.