If Brodie had more colour in his cheeks, it was gone when he paled hearing Asher's name. The glass had been poised near his lips, but he didn't drink. He just looked at Xavier with a mix of anxiety and disbelief. Was this all some huge weird dream that the cancer was making his mind believe was real? His hand was shaking a little when he put the water glass back beside the jug and then gave his arm a little pinch. It hurt. A lot, actually. His skin was sensitive these days, but it was unlikely a dream. An hallucination? Did you knowing pee during an hallucination? "It's true, he's alive...?" The question was quiet, timid, sounding like he didn't want to ask it but had to.

"Am I... am I going crazy? I don't understand anything. I-I was in Charleston, and then I'm here, and I don't know what the hell is going on. Asher should be dead, but it's like I keep imagining him. I mean, are you even real? Or are you, like, the dude at the Pearly Gates who kicks the gay people to the curb for being gay? You kind of have the look of someone I figure God might employ for up there. Or are you just God outright? Because right now, I kind of feel like I'm losing my mind and nothing will really actually surprise me. Confuse me and make absolutely no fucking sense, but not surprise me. I... I'm sick. It might be in my mind by now..." He hadn't told his best friend, but he could admit it out loud to a total stranger. "I don't believe Asher's alive. I can't. I can't believe he would just... just... do that to me. Put me through that. He was supposed to love me."