A long moment of silence followed Chester’s question.  Then, just when it seemed like all sound had been completely sucked from the world, DEE began speaking.  “She pretended--”<br/><br/>But Dumas cut off his holographic twin with a sharp headshake.  “No.  I did it, so I should tell it.”<br/><br/>Like a witness about to give unpleasant testimony, Dumas folded his hands in his lap and drew a deep breath.  A little of the eerie emptiness had left his eyes, but he still felt very far away, and his emotions seemed to be wrapped in layers of thick padding.  “While I was staying with Mari, we got close.  I think she liked having me around.  I know I enjoyed being there.”  Dumas squeezed his eyes shut, remembering the paradise that he’d lost forever.  “She cooked for me.  We laughed and played games.  She was so sweet.  She never freaked out, not even when I...talked in my sleep.”<br/><br/>The further along he got, the harder the words were to say, like pushing boulders up an increasingly steep path.  But Dumas struggled onward.  This was just a small part of the price he deserved to pay for what he’d done.   “After we got comfortable with each other, she started letting me touch her.  Nothing sexual.  Just a hug or a pat on the shoulder.  Still, I thought that maybe she was starting to feel something for me.”<br/><br/>Dumas’s fingers curled until his nails were digging into the palms of his hands.  But even then, he barely felt the pain.  “Then this morning, when she got out of the shower, she started kissing me and asking me to make love to her.  I know I shouldn’t have fallen for such an obvious trick.  I just -- I wanted it so badly.  I wanted to believe that someone like her could feel that way about someone like me.”<br/><br/>Looking directly at Chester for the first time since he started speaking, Dumas opened his eyes, releasing tears that trickled down his cheeks.  But otherwise, his face still betrayed very little emotion.  “I was gentle with her, Ches.  I was so fucking gentle.  I swear, I didn’t do anything she didn’t seem to be enjoying.  You know that I’d never intentionally hurt our Mari.”  Despite his best efforts to remain calm, Dumas’s voice finally cracked, breaking beneath the weight of his misery.  “But it wasn’t<span style="font-style: italic">our</span>Mari.  It was the other one.  After we finished, she revealed the truth, taunted me about what I’d done, and then walked out.”<br/><br/>Utterly defeated, Dumas let his face fall forward into his hands.  “Tell her, Ches.  God knows I can’t.  But tell her I never meant to hurt my Bunny Girl.  Tell her that I’m so sorry.”<br/><br/>There was no single word to describe DEE’s relationship with Dumas -- no one term that simulataneoulsy encompassed the concepts of creator/brother/self.  But it felt fiercely protective of the flawed fleshy thing that had helped bring it into existence.  And it could tell that Dumas was starting to break apart on some deep and fundamental level.<br/><br/>“Wait!” DEE protested, before Chester could act.  “Maybe we don’t have to tell her.  Maybe I can fix this.  The memory is still fresh, so I wouldn’t need to remove much surrounding material.  If she doesn’t remember, and he doesn’t remember -- then it’s like it never happened, right?  No harm, no foul.”