Pain
"We're monsters," she whispered, her head in her hands, "Monsters. What do we do?"
"Nothing," he said harshly, "Live. Survive. As always."
"It's not supposed to be like this," she protested, walking toward him as he tried to walk away, "We live and we die, and that's it. We'll go mad living on and on"—
"No we won't."
He jerked away from her, anger building inside him as his wife's anxiety grew in the same proportion.
"We're cursed, Slade, I"—
He pulled her close and kissed her, too hard, just to stop the cold, raw chill of his own fear.