"I don't care about me." Francis said, her voice shaking. Something inside her was breaking loose; the childlike desperation that she constantly strove so hard to ignore. Standing a little away her, Larry felt desperate himself. He wanted to walk over to her and take her in his arms. But there was no time.
"But I do care, Fran." He said. Oh God. He thought. I can't do this. Tears welled up behind his eyes. No matter what happened next he would lose her. Suddenly another jolt ran through his body as a reminder of the horrible transformation taking place inside him. "I've gotta go." And with that, he slid under the bed. Francis stood there, thinking for a moment.
When Larry had said he cared, a warm feeling bubbled up inside her. He cared. And she cared too. She couldn't let him do this alone. She knelt down to crawl under the bed.