[Not dead...or maybe he is dead and Taashath isn't real. Maybe he's a figment of his dying mind. Or maybe it's some kind of magic. Some kind of weird...human centered magic. He lets his hands drop from Taashath's shoulders, then lets himself drop on to the bed, sitting on the edge with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.]

We are not alright. I'm not alright.

[How can he even begin to explain what he's experiencing to a version of Taashath who thinks them being human is normal? Maybe if he goes to sleep he'll wake up in his own bed and all of this will have been a nightmare. He looks back up at Taashath. No matter what is happening to him, Taashath is here. The same beauty, the same body language, the same comforting voice he uses when Oren is having a hard day. Maybe he can trust this version of Taashath to have the same open mind.

Oren takes a deep breath and sits up straight, looking directly at his partner. It's easier to talk when he's sitting and Taashath is standing anyway. He doesn't have to look down.]

I don't know what's happening to me and if you think this is normal, I don't know how to even begin to explain to you what is wrong.