[Basil nearly interrupts her. You're sick? You're not sick. I'm the one who's sick. But through sheer force of will (and, like, caring enough about Max to not interject with "my pain is worse than yours actually"), Basil bites it back. He swallows the words down and just listens to her instead, even though it hurts to hear her say such things about herself. Because no matter how mean, or what she might say to him...

He shakes his head a little, and when Max reaches for his tail, it reacts to her reflexively, the edge of it trying to curl around her wrist. The tip looks so much like a flower, with its long, soft texture that's almost velvet, fur-like.]

I don't care.

[Is what he finally ends up saying, which is- like everything else he's said so far- the truth.]

A bad person...w-wouldn't have helped me and Gladion like you did. Or take me on rides in her car...or make me laugh, when I feel like I don't have anything worth laughing about anymore.

[That much...he can feel confident in saying without the magic stopping him. Because it's all true.]

You...aren't perfect. Maybe you...aren't good, either. But you're not bad.

[Not unfixable, like he is.]

We can just... [A weak sort of derisive smile works its way onto Basil's features, because he's not just talking to Max now, as It watches him over her shoulder.] ...be not good, together.