[Jaime only understood Blue in the abstract when he had first described what the clones' minds had felt like, and feeling it for himself is indescribable. In reality, he knows that he is merely sitting on a bed, seeing what Blue had once seen, but reality seems to have little bearing on anything when all of his senses are telling him that he is elsewhere, something else guiding his actions, when his senses are telling him that he hurts.
But pain, pain he has learned to work through, pain he has learned to endure. The panic and sheer tumult of emotion is an entirely different question, and his head spins with the force of it. He doesn't quite realize that the fear and dread rising in him isn't wholly his own, but the Scarab's as well, an immediate, visceral reaction to the mere suggestion of control being ripped away from them only to be replaced with an unquenchable urge to kill.
In the physical world, he sucks in his breath and holds it, knuckles turning white as his grip on Blue strengthens. He's seen enough. He would tear himself away from it happily, if only he knew how.]
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But pain, pain he has learned to work through, pain he has learned to endure. The panic and sheer tumult of emotion is an entirely different question, and his head spins with the force of it. He doesn't quite realize that the fear and dread rising in him isn't wholly his own, but the Scarab's as well, an immediate, visceral reaction to the mere suggestion of control being ripped away from them only to be replaced with an unquenchable urge to kill.
In the physical world, he sucks in his breath and holds it, knuckles turning white as his grip on Blue strengthens. He's seen enough. He would tear himself away from it happily, if only he knew how.]