If Rory hadn't been so completely caught up in the emotion that was filling the room, maybe she might've realized that saying 'Okay' to your sister's desperate plea to stay alive was slightly ridiculous. It was almost something to laugh over, in that way of hers that just ripped into a ridiculous situation, one snicker at a time. There was nothing too serious when you could laugh about it. But Rory wasn't laughing, because she was caught up in all the emotion, and that little promise made another unwelcome tear fall. It made her sad, and it made her angry, and that word reverberated through her mind, ready to haunt her if he broke the promise after all. "Okay," she mumbled, before he forced her to look back at him.
It was alarming, how different Dennis' perspective was from Rory's. Hilariously different. Her brow furrowed, adding yet another layer of sadness to her crumbling mask of calm. "He would've been proud even if you filled your own shoes. You were the kid they dreamed of." Rory didn't want him talking like that about himself. It bothered her, even if she wasn't all that sure why. A choked laugh escaped, and Rory pulled Dennis' hand into her lap, clasping her free hand around it as well. Holding him just a little closer. "I hate baked chips. With a burning passion."
But even a shred of humor couldn't stop the tears that were slipping down her cheeks. She'd seen them welling up in her brother's eyes, there was no stopping her after that. "I'm sorry I wasn't there," she whispered with a trembling exhale. "I'm so sorry."