[she goes to move again, frazzled at his head shake (shush brother, lacie knows best) but oswald is there at her side. she would know, her eyes following him as he crossed the room to get to her.

his worry— momentarily, she doesn't know what to do with it. lacie is already dead, long gone and unable to return or wish for anything other than an end to her pain. here, in this place, in his room, and now in the living room: nothing can touch her. not the abyss, not the people around her— only her brother, and because of her brother. jack and canada have tried to see her too, but...

lacie does not want to see anyone. rather, she doesn't want anyone to see her, beaten and bruised and weak. at this time, oswald is the only one she will permit to see her, the only one she will permit to be at her side - as if she had a choice, that is. staying angry at oswald is exceedingly hard these days.

loving her brother, however...

that is easy.] Now, now... let me walk around a bit. I won't heal if I don't stretch my legs from time to time.

[reaching out to him though for support and wiggling her arms around his chest to use the excuse of a hug. brotherrrr. ... well. this latching might actually be genuine, to be honest. she has her brother in reach.

her brother, who has never been able to push her hands away.]

Besides, you're here. You won't let me exert myself. [/willful. c: rabu brother rabu.]