The quiet after Mad Dog's second "They died." didn't hit like a collapse. However, if slid into the room, careful and steady, like someone setting down a box they'd been carrying too long.
Ashton, abashed and confused, doesn't know what to do with it.
He sits there, wrist balanced awkwardly between his knees, eyes darting toward Mad Dog's face and away again. He has never been good with heavy topics. Usually, he blows them up or jokes through them or pretends to forget they'd ever existed.
But Mad Dog is staring at the floor like he'd said something utterly calmly and normal—as if he just was asking for the remote, or commenting on the weather. He is so frozen, Ashton feels like moving would be rude.
After too long of a awkward quiet, Ashton clears his throat.
"Uh… so. They were doctors…Your parents." Ashton said to film the silence.
Mad Dog's eyes flick up, then down again. "Yes." Mad Dog said.
"You…you don't talk about them a lot, do you." Ashton said.
