Sage stared out the window most of the night, and barely responded when he heard the knock on his door the next morning. He muttered some form of come in, though made no move to sit up, or even look to see who it was. It wasn't Att, the boy would have burst in. It sounded like Anyas knocking, though his brain was muddled and everything seemed to be going in slow motion, or too fast for his brain to handle, so he didn't really recognize if it was the girl or not. Admittedly, he didn't particularly care. Anya shouldn't have to see he was hurting, she should be able to deal with her grief herself. He should be strong enough to at least sit and hold her while she cried, like any decent friend would do. But no, he couldn't even do that. There it was again...he wasn't enough. He'd always fought against that...but the older he got, the more everything his father said seemed to be true. He wasn't enough, he'd never be enough, he should give up and stop trying. All of it...it was all true. He hadn't wanted to believe it, but that's just how things were he supposed. Maybe the gates just wanted to see how much a person could handle in one life. Or maybe they just hated him. He knew he wasn't necessarily a good person...he was a murderer, and he worked at the tavern, doing work no one else would dream of doing. But he'd hoped that they'd let up on the noose they had around him at some point.

When the girl didn't get a reply, she poked her head through the door... her legs were shaking. Was she scared? Of Sage? Or was she just so completely and utterly useless that she was scared of herself, and what she might say to the poor boy? He loved Luther just as much as she did, and it was purely selfish what she'd done the day before. She needed someone to blame, and as of then, he was the only person she could see reason in shouting at. Her heart started beating against her chest, making her feel so... weak again. She felt sick again and had to swallow that lump in her throat that just wouldn't leave her. "I... I brought you..." she trailed off and looked at him with furrowed brows. He would tell her to get lost if he was that annoyed at her. And, in truth, she'd understand that. She'd blamed him for his best friend's death. There wasn't much you could do to forgive that.

Sage heard the girl come in, and heasitated at the door before speaking. He didn't move, he just lay there for a moment or two as he processed what the girl had said. She'd brought him something. Yes, that was it. But what? Well, he realized he didn't particularly care what it was the girl had. Unless it was a whole new body, and brain...well, it would be much help to him. "Just put it on the table," he muttered eventually, still just staring out the window. He didn't mind the girl being there. Really, her being there was a bit comforting even if she was grieving too. But...she'd yelled the other day. Had someone forced her to come, like when Luther and told her to bring him home when he was dying? Or had she gotten over that?

Anya bit the inside of her lip when the boy told her to put the food on the side... she did just that before stepping back slighly, her heart still pounding at her. It hurt. She didn't know what she was so worried about... but she was scared. She still didn't know if that was for her or Sage though. "I'm sorry," she whispered, not too sure if she could say very much without breaking down again... she felt like she was choking. Like someone had wrapped their hand around her throat and refused to let go. And she felt like the little room was enclosing on her. "For yesterday. You didn't deserve it and I..." she trailed off again, determined not to let herself cry infront of him. She'd managed not to do it for years... she'd always been the one for him to lean on, and that certainly didn't need to change, even if all she wanted to do was fall into his arms and let it happen.

Sage dimly heard the girl apologize and after a moment he shook his head and sighed, sitting and turning around, patting the bed next to him. "You don't have to apologize. It's...not wrong." He knew the girl took comfort in having people around her...and he'd do his best to help, but he needed her too. And she was going to leave soon, so he didn't want to get dependent on the girl. But they could cry together if need be now, he supposed. It would probably be good that way. Some tears were good, he learned, at time they could be helpful. And...the girl didn't mind and neither did he. So...well, why not. He was probably going to cry anyway.

Anya shooed her head at him, but didn't come sit down next to him. It seemed like he was just doing a good gesture, something nice, but she didn't want him to feel like he had to be good to her like that... he didn't need to be. He didn't need to forgive her. It was horrible of her to say what she did, and she was almost surprised he'd forgiven her at all. And now she was scared again. Had she broken him? It sounded odd that way - but what if what she said really just broke him, made him stop... well, caring? If he was the person to put him to that point... she wouldn't be able to forgive herself, she really wouldn't. "It shouldn't have been said. You... you're hurting too and I let my own thoughts get the better of me," she whispered quietly before looking down. Why wasn't he getting angry at her? Tell her that it wasn't okay. He was so... calm, or maybe she was just used to getting yelled at in this situation.

Sage sighed and shrugged slightly. "Well, apology accepted, but you still didn't have to apologize. I barely even heard you." He wrinkled his nose slightly, just barely moving his face. "Besides...you were kind of right. I could have done something more..." He trailed off then, not really trusting himself to say or so anything else. He wished he could just curl up on the bed, close his eyes, and never wake up. Never feel like this again. "You should have just left me in the tavern. I just mess things up," he grumbled quietly, though there wasn't much emotion to his voice. It was just...flat. dead, even. It matched his eyes, his expression, he supposed.

Anya shook her head again, unable to help the tightness in her chest when he said she should have left him in the tavern. The worse bit of it, maybe, would be the fact that she would have done just that if it wasn't for Luther. Luther wanted Sage here, to make sure he was safe and healthy. "No, don't say that," she murmured quietly, starting to chew on the inside of her mouth again. Eventually, the girl got the courage to come and sit down on the side of the bed, where he'd instructed her previously. "Luther wanted to be here... and so did I. Things would have been worse if you weren't here, you know that?" She wanted to talk to him about this properly, so that she didn't leave to her parents with a bitter taste in her mouth.

Sage sighed and leaned over to rest his head on the girls shoulder when she sat down. "I know," he murmured. "But I can't help but feel like anyone I learn to love immediately gets a death sentence." He shook his head slightly, not really sure what to say or how to describe what he was feeling. He just sort of stared at his hands, which had started the agitated scratching again. There were still bandages on his forarms, so he hadn't scratched his skin raw yet, but he knew it was coming, it always did. "who's next? You? Att? The doctor? I don't...I can't...," His face twisted then and he felt his nails scrape against his bicep area, and the warm blood he felt wasn't even a surprise any more. He didn't even know how to finish his sentence. He just wasn't sure he could do this any more.

Anya shook her head as she watched the boy scratch away at himself. It almost made her panic more, if that was possible. "No, don't..." she trailed off at the first sight of blood and took a gentle hold of his wrists so that he couldn't hurt himself anymore. "No one is going to go, not any time soon. Att is going to live until he's old, the doctor will be fine, and so will I," she murmured quietly as she gently squeezed his wrists, though she could feel herself spiralling as the boys face screwed up. She didn't want him to cry. God, please say he wouldn't cry. She didn't want to s The him like that.