[She hits him again with that spike inside his head, and he wars with his desire to stick this out and the desire to push her as far away as possible. It creates an uncomfortable fissure to lay alongside the crushing pain in his skull.
He reaches for that anger instinctively to shove her back, but stops just short of taking its hand. This is wrong. He knows its wrong, the deeper Kira digs, the more wrong it feels.]
Stop.
[It is small, frightened, nothing compared to the instinctive buck he had first given her. It allows her another scrape of his mind, his mother petting his head through a dark nightmare.]
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He reaches for that anger instinctively to shove her back, but stops just short of taking its hand. This is wrong. He knows its wrong, the deeper Kira digs, the more wrong it feels.]
Stop.
[It is small, frightened, nothing compared to the instinctive buck he had first given her. It allows her another scrape of his mind, his mother petting his head through a dark nightmare.]
I can't do this.