[ It's easier to hold back the tears that want to leave if he doesn't speak. He's never had to quite defend himself from this: the crying of other people, some of it over him, some of it for the other.
And maybe that's why--it should be easier to hold them back, but he can't. Not like this. With the bodies shivering with their own pain, and he hates it. He hates this. He hates the lie he can't tell that makes him quiet and makes everything all the worse. Because the truth is too painful, too scary.
But he detests that he's doing this to the both of them in the first place. Inigo speaking up so strongly, trying, and it just breaks his heart more. 'You can't just ask us to give up on you.'
He could just lie. He could just do it. Just say sure, make them all happy. Bury this and never let it come up again.
Tidus pulls his arms away from the both of them, cupping his face into his hands. Trying to steady the shaking of the tears that want to come out, his throat that hurts hard from the stress. It's a familiar feeling, an old friend. He's worked hard to not cry as he used to, to push and keep it at bay.
A breath taken, shaken, unsteady--he takes his hands away, turns aside his head and speaks into the darkness: ]
I need magic--to keep me around. I'm a -- summon. A dream. The train keeps me around.
[ And he tries to avoid the how and why, extending out the hand that happens to be on the same side as Inigo, the SCA always on his wrist. The device they all wear for missions, but for him--he never takes off. Never can. Never dares. His fist gripped, the only point of interest being the wrist-device. ]
no subject
And maybe that's why--it should be easier to hold them back, but he can't. Not like this. With the bodies shivering with their own pain, and he hates it. He hates this. He hates the lie he can't tell that makes him quiet and makes everything all the worse. Because the truth is too painful, too scary.
But he detests that he's doing this to the both of them in the first place. Inigo speaking up so strongly, trying, and it just breaks his heart more. 'You can't just ask us to give up on you.'
He could just lie. He could just do it. Just say sure, make them all happy. Bury this and never let it come up again.
Tidus pulls his arms away from the both of them, cupping his face into his hands. Trying to steady the shaking of the tears that want to come out, his throat that hurts hard from the stress. It's a familiar feeling, an old friend. He's worked hard to not cry as he used to, to push and keep it at bay.
A breath taken, shaken, unsteady--he takes his hands away, turns aside his head and speaks into the darkness: ]
I need magic--to keep me around. I'm a -- summon. A dream. The train keeps me around.
[ And he tries to avoid the how and why, extending out the hand that happens to be on the same side as Inigo, the SCA always on his wrist. The device they all wear for missions, but for him--he never takes off. Never can. Never dares. His fist gripped, the only point of interest being the wrist-device. ]