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I come up short at the mention of my moral strength. I whip around to stare at Alex from above him on the steps. He means it, he means I can't deal with Neil's death on my own. For some reason his concern for me annoys me. "Or you just underestimate me," I counter.
"Or maybe I just want to some weakness in you," He says. Again, catching me by surprise.
The confusion I feel must be on my face as well because Alex elaborates. "You're always so strong, Al," he says, "There has to be a breaking point somewhere. Even for someone as hardened as you. I just want to see some kind of human emotion out of you."
"You're seeing one right now," I say turing up the stairs and contusing my assent to the top deck, "It's called anger."
"That's not what I mean and you know it," He says chasing after me.
"Oh," I say, not bothering to turn and look at as I speak, "So would you rather I curl up into a ball and give up on life?"
"Well, no but-"
"Then what Alex?" I ask turning on him abruptly, almost causing him to fall backwards, wanting to get the conversation over before we reach the others because they can't see this and we are only a couple levels below, "What do you want me to do? I can't give you any more emotion than I already do! It's just who I am! It's just who I am! You know that! You've known that, better than anyone else! For years you accepted that! So what changed? Why the hell do you want sadness out of me now?"
I've walked down the few steps I had on him and now we are both on level ground. I'm looking up into his face, filled with shock at my outburst. "I'm sorry," Alex says, "I just worry about you."
"And I worry about you," I say as I turn and walk to the top deck.