There's an exhaustion sitting heavily in her limbs, a tiredness of living and of dying over and over again, of being forgotten, of guilt and self-disgust, and she lets her head sink until her cheek rests on the crown of their head. Distantly, she realizes with some surprise how small the child in her arms really is, how thin, how undone. They're so good at making themself seem mature, self-controlled and self-reliant and dangerous, a spring-coiled knife. She'd been fooled by that to some degree too, even though she remembers what it's like to never let yourself show fear or doubt, to make yourself tall and confident so no one can hurt you or your twin.

Not really a twin, in their case. But a Partner, a second skin, a twin in Determination and anger. There'd been a family before that but they died choking on their own blood for a cause, for the future of their world and that had been it, severed from every bond that would have ever had a chance at giving them happiness and safety to balance their growing wrath. It's horrible and wrong and what made them become a demon-- Lup squeezes her eyes shut against a surge of hatred that isn't her own at all and rubs gently soothing circles into their back, more tears flowing quietly. It's okay and I'm here stick in her throat, she tries a lonesome "I know" but it seems pointless too and she's silent after that.

Time's weird in dreams so who knows how long they really sit like this. But eventually the trembling subsides and she finds a path around all the painful-familiar emotions in her head towards thoughts of morning, of the future. "Hey, Chara? If you're up for it, I... I wanna try it again some day. I think there's--- there's better music in us." A note of duty and devotion maybe, a desire for the best of everyone, that she only heard faintly under all their horrors. That's the one she'd like to practice.