The darkness wants his soul. It's been sucking at him for so long, edged with red-hot tints of pain. The agony licks at his consciousness, but it's receded. That's bad; it means he's losing his fight. But he's trying. He's trying so hard, because for the first time in his life he has something to lose.
He hears Tasha crying. She didn't cry in Koshin, when he fell four stories, broke six ribs and punctured his left lung. He'd been throwing up blood by the gallon. They had been sure he'd die then. But she hadn't cried.
She is crying now.