It's back here, back to the same Memory Lane where emotions, thoughts, and memories all jumbled together as if they could not exist, one without the other. Who was he even speaking to now; Tidus's eyes glazed and and unfocused all at once. In Roland's mind, he doesn't quite understand. Giving Will himself meant staying away from him, because if he didn't work to save his life, who would? Widowed now, all alone, no siblings, no one. Absolutely no one. He'd die of his sickness if he stopped, and even then, if Roland quit, the world would do the deed and kill them all.
Your kid's going to be proud of that!
He looks at his feet. The apparition turned real; the boy in his dreams, reaching out a small hand to him, asking him to come home when all is said and done. To give him stories to read while he's waiting for Roland to fix the worlds he's been tasked with. 'Promise me, you'll keep helping people!' The only thing his son ever wanted from him -
- no, he wanted Roland. Tidus wanted his father. Who was he speaking to? He's muddled, his head is twisting in places that it makes him disoriented. It reminds him of a feeling once, long ago, waking from a nightmare he's not sure where it came from. This too, he chokes down, tries to ignore.
But how could he now, when those closest to him seemed like fragments that make up the disappointment of his own flesh and blood? I didn't want him to stop being the president the Great Jecht. I just wanted to know that my daddy loved me. I wasn't a disappointment. I wanted him to say it that he would stay with me.
Roland's not sure when his sword disappears from his hand and back to this arms band. But now he's met Tidus's indignation - or fear, or both - head on, with hands to his shoulders as if ready to shake him back to reality. It's not what happens. The two of them seem possessed.
"You're not a disappointment!" Roland exclaims passionately, but his eyes are blurring the details. His son didn't have blue eyes. No, not at all. He took after his mother, eyes downturned and curved at the edges. Not sharp, like Roland's. "You're not. You're..."
The words die on his tongue. His hands grow limp and fall back down to his own sides.
"...If your father never told you what you needed to hear, if he didn't give you enough, it's not because he didn't love you. Every father loves their children more than their own life. I promise you that. It's the absolute truth. It's - It's just that sometimes we...I..."
Who is this? William, can you hear him? It's dad. He's here. He -
He sighs deeply, feeling it in his bones. Suddenly, he's tired. Suddenly, he doesn't know that there are stations to be saved, or robots to be fought. Suddenly, Tidus is too close, a reminder that fathers and sons are never as easy as they always make it to be.
no subject
It's back here, back to the same Memory Lane where emotions, thoughts, and memories all jumbled together as if they could not exist, one without the other. Who was he even speaking to now; Tidus's eyes glazed and and unfocused all at once. In Roland's mind, he doesn't quite understand. Giving Will himself meant staying away from him, because if he didn't work to save his life, who would? Widowed now, all alone, no siblings, no one. Absolutely no one. He'd die of his sickness if he stopped, and even then, if Roland quit, the world would do the deed and kill them all.
Your kid's going to be proud of that!
He looks at his feet. The apparition turned real; the boy in his dreams, reaching out a small hand to him, asking him to come home when all is said and done. To give him stories to read while he's waiting for Roland to fix the worlds he's been tasked with. 'Promise me, you'll keep helping people!' The only thing his son ever wanted from him -
- no, he wanted Roland. Tidus wanted his father. Who was he speaking to? He's muddled, his head is twisting in places that it makes him disoriented. It reminds him of a feeling once, long ago, waking from a nightmare he's not sure where it came from. This too, he chokes down, tries to ignore.
But how could he now, when those closest to him seemed like fragments that make up the disappointment of his own flesh and blood? I didn't want him to stop being
the presidentthe Great Jecht. I just wanted to knowthat my daddy loved me.I wasn't a disappointment. I wanted him to say itthat he would stay with me.Roland's not sure when his sword disappears from his hand and back to this arms band. But now he's met Tidus's indignation - or fear, or both - head on, with hands to his shoulders as if ready to shake him back to reality. It's not what happens. The two of them seem possessed.
"You're not a disappointment!" Roland exclaims passionately, but his eyes are blurring the details. His son didn't have blue eyes. No, not at all. He took after his mother, eyes downturned and curved at the edges. Not sharp, like Roland's. "You're not. You're..."
The words die on his tongue. His hands grow limp and fall back down to his own sides.
"...If your father never told you what you needed to hear, if he didn't give you enough, it's not because he didn't love you. Every father loves their children more than their own life. I promise you that. It's the absolute truth. It's - It's just that sometimes we...I..."
Who is this? William, can you hear him? It's dad. He's here. He -
He sighs deeply, feeling it in his bones. Suddenly, he's tired. Suddenly, he doesn't know that there are stations to be saved, or robots to be fought. Suddenly, Tidus is too close, a reminder that fathers and sons are never as easy as they always make it to be.