He nodded at her words, though they fell limply on him. His rage had burned out, entirely, leaving him with a sense of pure sorrow. Marken couldn't comprehend that he was on the verge of losing his mother so easily. Instead of fully listening, he just sat down, staring at the ground blankly. What she said made sense, as he held the piece of paper, clutched into his left hand tightly. However, he couldn't even bring himself to look at it. It just made sure that he knew, full well, that his mother was ill, and that he may be losing her so quickly into his life. It felt like studying that paper would ensure it somehow, make it more tangible than it really was.

When she reached out to pull his head to her chest, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly to him. "I don't want to... I don't want to believe it Ella..." He shook, very suddenly and very powerfully, as a recognizable sob. He didn't want to let go of Ella, didn't want to accept what was happening. When it came down to it, Marken was far less emotionally secure than he showed. He snapped out in anger, acted out coldly, and now he was sobbing instead of trying to be productive with such a grave matter looming so near. He was pathetic. And that thought only brought another sob out, as he clutched Ellas form to him.