[ without realizing, marta has begun sewing to the cadences of kovacs' words. so when he pauses, when his breath catches on a word, so too do her hands stop and start, as if she were quite literally hanging on his every word.

there's something about what he's telling her that breaks up the normal methodic rhythm of her actions. a confession that doesn't reveal much, other than the quiet understanding that he can say what he wants. so he does. ]

...I'm sorry. That shouldn't have happened to either of you.

[ she wishes she could say it would have been different, had he carried his friend into a hospital in her own world. but marta knows not everyone can disregard the rules in a moment like that. funny, how even stretched across vastly different existences, people can still be so very much the same. ]

I like that. [ empty rooms and empty hearts. stars so far apart that even in their infinite brightness they could grow lonely. why not fill a room — a station, a universe — with the ones who need another the most? ] Everyone's here for their own reason... but maybe that doesn't mean we have to face it all alone.

[ at the very least, it's a nice thought. ]