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"No, Linus. There's no point. My mind is made up. I've already made peace with it. I hope you will, too."

Irritated, Linus started walking back and forth across the room. "Vino, this is absurd. You're giving up, and that's not like you. Not at all. Any number of things could happen in the time you have left. I don't know how long that is, but if you would just open yourself up to to the possibility that--"

"I have about three months left. Or so my doctor tells me."

Linus stopped pacing, his back toward Vino. He didn't turn around. Something about that bit of information and the tone of Vino's voice made him feel like there was nothing at all that could be done--even though there most certainly was.

For a while, Linus just stood there, silent and stewing in his thoughts.

He was already feeling it, he suddenly realized. The death of his closest friend.

In the past, when he'd lost people, it usually took him a few days to process, to get to this point. But now...

It should've been the opposite, shouldn't it? After experiencing this so many times before, he should've built up some manner of tolerance to it.

But it wasn't like that at all. If anything, he felt worse than ever. More powerless than ever. More hopeless than ever.

More alone than ever.

He supposed it was a testament to just how much Vino meant to him. If he had the presence of mind for it, he might've tried to take solace in that thought a little more.

But he didn't. It passed through his mind like rain through a window screen and was gone.

And instead, a far stupider thought manifested in his mind, something that he already knew made no sense but that nonetheless felt so incredibly appropriate at the moment. "Well, maybe I'll just let myself die along with you, then."