"No," she interjects wearily, because this isn't his fault. Where would the fault even lie, with dreams? Her, because this is her head the poor boy's stumbled into? The Rift, because this wouldn't be happening at all if not for the Rift? She makes herself sit up, takes his hand from her shoulder, keeps it in hers. "It's not your fault." She won't have him thinking otherwise.
She looks around the room again, this kitchen that isn't really hers, that never even really existed. "This isn't real - it never was, I mean," she says quietly. "My son," she indicates the garden with a slight incline of her head and a wince, "was only a baby when the Rift took me. I'd been trying to find Jack - we promised his mother we'd look after him - but..." she trails off and hitches her shoulders in a little shrug. Maybe this is how things would have been, if the Rift hadn't taken her and they'd found the lad and defeated the Giant. But there's no way of knowing, and there's nothing to be done about any of it.
no subject
She looks around the room again, this kitchen that isn't really hers, that never even really existed. "This isn't real - it never was, I mean," she says quietly. "My son," she indicates the garden with a slight incline of her head and a wince, "was only a baby when the Rift took me. I'd been trying to find Jack - we promised his mother we'd look after him - but..." she trails off and hitches her shoulders in a little shrug. Maybe this is how things would have been, if the Rift hadn't taken her and they'd found the lad and defeated the Giant. But there's no way of knowing, and there's nothing to be done about any of it.