Of course not. [ his voice is soft and thoughtful, but he can say that much with conviction. ] If I were in your shoes, I'd do the same thing. Freedom is our most precious possession, after all.
[ This time, he does notice the cracks that spider along their skin, and he feels a familiar pang in his chest - the one he always feels when he sees them in distress. Just as he'd thought, he doesn't feel the slightest urge to leave. Maybe he's not sure what this means for the two of them - Cairngorm doesn't seem to know, either - but he does know he doesn't want them to leave. The fear is there, of course, that the Cairngorm he knew will somehow disappear, but the Cairngorm sitting in front of him and squeezing his hand doesn't seem any different to him. Why should he treat them differently? No, when he thinks about it, if anything...
With a sigh, he slips his hand from theirs. Then there's the rustle of clothes as he stands up, knee pressing against the couch as he leans over them slightly and carefully holds their broken face in his two hands, doing his best to avoid getting sliced open by their jagged edges; he looks into the dark holes where their eyes should be. They're a ghastly sight right now, to be sure. But if this truly is the real Cairngorm, he doesn't care. ]
If the "real you" is someone who believes that, then I think I'd get along with them just fine.
[ and if the "real them" isn't the person Lupin always believed they were, then they have the chance to tell him so. ]
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[ This time, he does notice the cracks that spider along their skin, and he feels a familiar pang in his chest - the one he always feels when he sees them in distress. Just as he'd thought, he doesn't feel the slightest urge to leave. Maybe he's not sure what this means for the two of them - Cairngorm doesn't seem to know, either - but he does know he doesn't want them to leave. The fear is there, of course, that the Cairngorm he knew will somehow disappear, but the Cairngorm sitting in front of him and squeezing his hand doesn't seem any different to him. Why should he treat them differently? No, when he thinks about it, if anything...
With a sigh, he slips his hand from theirs. Then there's the rustle of clothes as he stands up, knee pressing against the couch as he leans over them slightly and carefully holds their broken face in his two hands, doing his best to avoid getting sliced open by their jagged edges; he looks into the dark holes where their eyes should be. They're a ghastly sight right now, to be sure. But if this truly is the real Cairngorm, he doesn't care. ]
If the "real you" is someone who believes that, then I think I'd get along with them just fine.
[ and if the "real them" isn't the person Lupin always believed they were, then they have the chance to tell him so. ]