This is a dream. Or one of his visions. Dying broke something in his mind he hadn't known could break; or he's in the void the ghosts had spoken of, hallucinating as he fails to process utter nothingness --
"DEDUE!"
Dimitri breaks into a run.
He skids to a halt by the table, hands fluttering, afraid -- but when he rests a hand on Dedue's shoulder, he's solid, real, flesh and bone. "You're here. You're really -- you're hurt!" he cries, registering the bruises, Erin's bandage-work. "Were you attacked? What happened?"
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"Dedue -- "
It can't be.
"Dedue?"
This is a dream. Or one of his visions. Dying broke something in his mind he hadn't known could break; or he's in the void the ghosts had spoken of, hallucinating as he fails to process utter nothingness --
"DEDUE!"
Dimitri breaks into a run.
He skids to a halt by the table, hands fluttering, afraid -- but when he rests a hand on Dedue's shoulder, he's solid, real, flesh and bone. "You're here. You're really -- you're hurt!" he cries, registering the bruises, Erin's bandage-work. "Were you attacked? What happened?"