[Diarmuid's never really thought about 'family'. Not the same kind of family Pete's holding out to him right now β he had devoted himself to the people who raised him, had sworn away love, lust, or the promise of someone to pass along his wisdoms and adoration. He was okay with it, because he never really knew what it was like to begin with β and you cannot miss something you'd never had, not really.
Not in the same way Pete misses his family so clearly. The look on his face as he passes Diarmuid the picture says it well enough. Diarmuid feels this horrible weariness fall across his shoulders, as heavy as a lead blanket, but he's ever so careful at holding the memories of a lost family in his hands. This time he does let a tear drip down his face, because it's easier to weep for someone else's loss than his own. What a true nightmare, to wake up and know the world you had made is gone.
He thinks about his own family. What's left of it. What's been reduced to...
Will life ever be so simple again, as it was on the shores of KilmannΓ‘n?
He thinks not. There is no peace upon this earth, not now, not ever.
But... But surely they can lessen the blow life delivers.
They can be good and decent and kind. He smiles a little.]
... What a blessing they were on this world of ours.
Its thanks would not be enough.
[He's not sure what to say that won't make things more difficult for Pete. He's already probably making this visit worse than it needed to be β more painful. He'd just rushed over to show him a picture, and now he's gone and dug up painful things, things the man probably had no want to explore this day. His heart feels swollen in his chest, like it may burst from his ribs.
He looks to him, swallowing hard.]
I'd lost my family as well, not so long ago. It was β it wasn't like yours. It wasn't normal, but... they'd raised me since since I was the smallest creature. Their loss weighs on me, and I still see the very moments their spirits flew, when I sleep at night.
But... I suppose my strongest solace is knowing there is nothing they need fear any longer.
That they created who I am, and so thrive as fragments of myself.
[He puts the photo back in Pete's hand, looking down in what seems to be shame.]
[ frank sees the tear slip across diarmuidβs cheek and his own chest tightens from the guilt of it. but heβd wanted to present some honesty, some part of himself thatβs genuine, with all that the kidβs placed some trust in him, whether misguided or not.
heβs not going to be a replacement for his friend, he doesnβt intend to be, but he can still try to look out for him when it mattered.
especially when itβs clear heβs lost so much of his own, and tries his damn hardest to keep his spirits up despite it. kidβs a lot stronger than he is, frank knows that much. ]
Donβt be sorry, kid. [ he shakes his head, peering down at the picture in his hand when diarmuid returns it. ] Sometimes I β with how long itβs been, I worry sometimes about forgetting. Itβs good to talk about it, yβknow. Every now and then.
[ raising his head again, his lips are parted, eyes shifting slightly as if in thought about his next words before he speaks them. ]
So ... so thanks for this. And for showing me that picture of yours. I know it means a lot to you.
[Diarmuid smiles, rubbing his face with his sleeve.]
We won't forget.
But we should not also forget... it would be a grave sin, that we die with our dead β that we dishonor them by closing ourselves off in whatever life we may have left in our lungs.
[Collecting the box of polaroids, he looks at him more confidently, even if the tear track on his cheek still somewhat glistens in the light.]
[ he doesnβt like being this exposed, to have someone peering at him when heβs mentally in such a vulnerable place, but diarmuid has uncoated something and it leaves him no place to hide, the words striking at the very thing that heβd attempted again and again for so long. ]
Yeah. [ he responds with his voice low, eyes turned away before they finally rise to look back, pairing it with a nod that follows.
he remains silent for a moment before he finally reaches over, his palm bracing over the boyβs head before he gives his hair a slight shuffle. ] I think youβre right.
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Not in the same way Pete misses his family so clearly. The look on his face as he passes Diarmuid the picture says it well enough. Diarmuid feels this horrible weariness fall across his shoulders, as heavy as a lead blanket, but he's ever so careful at holding the memories of a lost family in his hands. This time he does let a tear drip down his face, because it's easier to weep for someone else's loss than his own. What a true nightmare, to wake up and know the world you had made is gone.
He thinks about his own family. What's left of it. What's been reduced to...
Will life ever be so simple again, as it was on the shores of KilmannΓ‘n?
He thinks not. There is no peace upon this earth, not now, not ever.
But... But surely they can lessen the blow life delivers.
They can be good and decent and kind. He smiles a little.]
... What a blessing they were on this world of ours.
Its thanks would not be enough.
[He's not sure what to say that won't make things more difficult for Pete. He's already probably making this visit worse than it needed to be β more painful. He'd just rushed over to show him a picture, and now he's gone and dug up painful things, things the man probably had no want to explore this day. His heart feels swollen in his chest, like it may burst from his ribs.
He looks to him, swallowing hard.]
I'd lost my family as well, not so long ago. It was β it wasn't like yours. It wasn't normal, but... they'd raised me since since I was the smallest creature. Their loss weighs on me, and I still see the very moments their spirits flew, when I sleep at night.
But... I suppose my strongest solace is knowing there is nothing they need fear any longer.
That they created who I am, and so thrive as fragments of myself.
[He puts the photo back in Pete's hand, looking down in what seems to be shame.]
I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for such a sad visit.
I spoke a little too thoughtlessly.
no subject
heβs not going to be a replacement for his friend, he doesnβt intend to be, but he can still try to look out for him when it mattered.
especially when itβs clear heβs lost so much of his own, and tries his damn hardest to keep his spirits up despite it. kidβs a lot stronger than he is, frank knows that much. ]
Donβt be sorry, kid. [ he shakes his head, peering down at the picture in his hand when diarmuid returns it. ] Sometimes I β with how long itβs been, I worry sometimes about forgetting. Itβs good to talk about it, yβknow. Every now and then.
[ raising his head again, his lips are parted, eyes shifting slightly as if in thought about his next words before he speaks them. ]
So ... so thanks for this. And for showing me that picture of yours. I know it means a lot to you.
no subject
We won't forget.
But we should not also forget... it would be a grave sin, that we die with our dead β that we dishonor them by closing ourselves off in whatever life we may have left in our lungs.
[Collecting the box of polaroids, he looks at him more confidently, even if the tear track on his cheek still somewhat glistens in the light.]
Don't you think?
no subject
Yeah. [ he responds with his voice low, eyes turned away before they finally rise to look back, pairing it with a nod that follows.
he remains silent for a moment before he finally reaches over, his palm bracing over the boyβs head before he gives his hair a slight shuffle. ] I think youβre right.