cliche-ask-max-deactivated20171:
Oh. Who are you and why are you talking to me?
//lol chill max//
I…can’t…*hes still hyperventilating and unable to calm down* ohgodohgodohgod
Max! Max, breathe. Look at me. Don’t think – just look at me and take a breath in.
Can’t…I killed…killed him…
Max, stay with me and look at me. Please, Max.
Just look at me. Look at my big, fat nose and my greying hair. *he hopes saying
something weird might snap him out of it enough*My dad had grey hair…*a few tears slip down his cheeks* I’m…I’m a murderer…
No, kid. You’re not. You have what we call ‘diminished
responsibility’. Max… you’re just a child. The only responsibility you have is
if you take a piece of candy from a store. Look at me, buddy. Just look at me.
Okay?*looks at you with eyes full of tears* no…you don’t fucking get it do you? It was my fault that he died. It was my fucking fault. I was an idiot. How can you say it wasn’t my fault when you don’t even know the story? *starts crying again*
Because you’re a child. And because it wasn’t my fault when my mom left my father
alone with two kids, one of whom she wished she’d had aborted before he was
born.
*he puts both hands on Max’s shoulders.* No, I
don’t know the full story. But I know that you’re a kid, and you can’t possibly
know everything there is to know. I know I don’t understand, but I don’t need
to understand to try and help you.
The Perfect Scientist 