He gave a small, sad sound at that, the dark thoughts in his head reminding him of the early days, when all he'd seen when he looked at Vash was a loose canon, dangerous and able to go off without any warning.
"I wasn't always very good at that, either, though...I...I was so dumb." It was hard to admit, something he'd kept close to his chest for a long time, because Vash deserved better than that, and knowing that he'd been just as bad as the people who'd hurt him just added to the list of things he hated about himself.
Still, there was something about about hearing Vash have faith that his breaks could be mended that made it feel a little more real, where it might have been something he would have railed against before, snarled and shouted and told him he was delusional, too naive, too kind, going to get himself hurt because he put his trust in the wrong people. What had changed? Why did it feel less like a threat, now, than it had before? When had he stopped wanting to disbelieve the kind things he said about him? And why wasn't that as scary as it used to have been?
"I want to heal, I do. I don't know how. You and him and the girls...you've always been the only ones who treated me like I could." And then Vash was scolding him, but it was different than anger, and hearing such a casual curse coming from this Vash, even if it wouldn't have been at all unusual to hear from the other, was enough of a little surprise that it got a startled little laugh out of him that managed to derail the doubts that still wanted to argue against everything else he'd said. It was different, the hate he felt for himself versus the hate he saw Vash holding for himself, both of them really, and part of him still wanted to argue that they deserved to forgive themselves so much more than he did. But perhaps it was the fatigue that sapped any real energy out of him for arguing, because he found himself accepting the reassurances more easily than he might have otherwise.
He thought about the offer, about leaving Vash to finish reburying the grave, and he hated the idea of making him do it on his own. But for once, he allowed himself a little grace and simply nodded, knowing that going back to it, even to put things back into proper order, would just break him down again. So instead, he let himself pull away slowly, flexing his dirty hands as if forcing sensation back into numb fingers after they'd fallen asleep, and swallowed back the last of his tears.
"I...th-...thank you, and...I'm sorry. I...I know this wasn't easy for you, either."
no subject
"I wasn't always very good at that, either, though...I...I was so dumb." It was hard to admit, something he'd kept close to his chest for a long time, because Vash deserved better than that, and knowing that he'd been just as bad as the people who'd hurt him just added to the list of things he hated about himself.
Still, there was something about about hearing Vash have faith that his breaks could be mended that made it feel a little more real, where it might have been something he would have railed against before, snarled and shouted and told him he was delusional, too naive, too kind, going to get himself hurt because he put his trust in the wrong people. What had changed? Why did it feel less like a threat, now, than it had before? When had he stopped wanting to disbelieve the kind things he said about him? And why wasn't that as scary as it used to have been?
"I want to heal, I do. I don't know how. You and him and the girls...you've always been the only ones who treated me like I could." And then Vash was scolding him, but it was different than anger, and hearing such a casual curse coming from this Vash, even if it wouldn't have been at all unusual to hear from the other, was enough of a little surprise that it got a startled little laugh out of him that managed to derail the doubts that still wanted to argue against everything else he'd said. It was different, the hate he felt for himself versus the hate he saw Vash holding for himself, both of them really, and part of him still wanted to argue that they deserved to forgive themselves so much more than he did. But perhaps it was the fatigue that sapped any real energy out of him for arguing, because he found himself accepting the reassurances more easily than he might have otherwise.
He thought about the offer, about leaving Vash to finish reburying the grave, and he hated the idea of making him do it on his own. But for once, he allowed himself a little grace and simply nodded, knowing that going back to it, even to put things back into proper order, would just break him down again. So instead, he let himself pull away slowly, flexing his dirty hands as if forcing sensation back into numb fingers after they'd fallen asleep, and swallowed back the last of his tears.
"I...th-...thank you, and...I'm sorry. I...I know this wasn't easy for you, either."