*He properly joins Alto on the floor. He stays quiet as Alto talks, taking it all in. He doesn't look away, he doesn't interrupt, he just holds onto Alto's hands, rubbing soft circles into them.
When the other stops speaking, he thinks for a moment.*
"How do you know what you're supposed to be when you're not the one deciding that?"
*He speaks slowly, quietly, thinking through each word.*
"Maybe you're supposed to be Alto. Maybe you're supposed to be a bunch of Arthur souls put together. Maybe you're supposed to keep going, keep fighting for something."
*He pauses, moving one of his hands to Alto's face, gently wiping the tears away.*
"I'm not sayin' this is some spiritual intervention or whatever, it's just... How things play out. It's hard. It's hard as hell, and that's an understatement."
*He lets his hand fall to Alto's shoulder, trying to massage some of the tension out of him.*
"But you push through. You gotta, 'cause there are people who love you. You. The real you. Not any of the Arthurs that you're made of, you."
*He slowly rises to his feet, using Alto as a crutch when his knees crack again.*
"You may not get to decide what's supposed to be happening, but you can decide whether you make that experience something more than just somethin' you're supposed to be doing."
*He moves to sit on the toilet lid, planting both of his hands on Alto's shoulders and massaging them.*
"These... These hard spots, they give you stories to tell. They give you lessons to learn from. They give you something to aspire to. They're more than just... shitty days. Or weeks. Or, hell, even years. You grow, you change. They turn you into you, not just a clump of skin and guts. Or, in your case, a clump of souls."
*He offers a gentle pat.*
"Now, how about we focus on gettin' your hair cleaned, yeah? Get you outta that head of yours, you know?"
