You realize you're saying "I have someone to talk to this about" and "but I'm not actually talking to him about it" in the same breath, right? Maybe eventually you'll get to this subject with him, but until you do, maybe you need another person to talk about this specifically with.
I know six years can drastically change a person, but you make it sound like you and your past self are such completely different people that you're tempted to consciously act differently around people who knew the younger you, and might expect you to be someone else. Six years is roughly the amount of time it's been for me since the civil war in my country broke out, so as it happens, I have a major life event and a similar timeframe to compare to as you do. I'm certainly different, but I have to say that I don't think my base personality has shifted all that much in that time. Is that not the case with you? Did you undergo more of a radical shift?
I mean, I understand that you appreciate that I've only known you this way, and I'm glad you like that. I'm certainly not trying to undercut that by learning a little more about the differences between current you and past you. I'm just wondering how much of a difference those six years made. Granted, for the people here who, from their perspectives, saw you make a six-year shift in attitude over the course of a week's worth of sleep, I imagine it would've seemed kind of dramatic even if it wasn't objectively that big of a change. War made me a little more serious than I used to be, and while I don't think that's a big or shocking change, if my friends saw me go from one point to the other in a week, they might be taken aback.
Well, maybe it's not how believable any one person is, but how much he needs to hear it and from how many people. [Claude taps his chin thoughtfully with a finger.] Or it could be that he thinks you're biased from being so close to him, and therefore he doesn't trust your judgment to be objective? Or for you to tell him the truth. So maybe it'll be easier to believe coming from someone with no particular reason to lie to him...
[He laughs as he follows Jaskier to his feet.] I admit, I haven't looked into it much. I could have, I suppose, but after such a long dry spell back home...well, I got in the habit of gently avoiding things that could get me too worked up when I couldn't afford the distraction. And then, once I found you... [He winks.] Well, I prefer to preserve my interest for our meetings. The wait makes the release all the more intense, I find. So getting to sate my curiosity on the advances in this field alongside you, and then explore those advances together afterwards...I have to say, that's the perfect arrangement.
[He readily takes that half a macaron from Jaskier's fingers, and if he gives the man a coy look between his lashes as he does and brushes his lips against Jaskier's fingers...well, it just goes to show that Claude knows exactly how to work with what he's got, and also that he knows his audience.]
[Claude makes a soft sound that's almost a whine.] Oh, I think you doing it on purpose is even worse... [There's a breathlessness to his voice that wasn't there before. Dimitri working him up obliviously is one thing, but Dimitri knowing he's working Claude up and doing it on purpose? Not only is there a deeply appealing cheekiness to it, there's a tease as to whether or not Dimitri intends to make good on working him up or not. Claude seriously doubts it, not this soon, not this easily, but...there's that chance.]
Hah! Your brother sounds less than inventive...or perhaps scared of getting too attached to his mount. But what about your horses? Can I ask why a fish?
Oh, is Ranma a them too? We're traveling with someone who goes by them. [Claude finds it interesting. It hadn't really been something that was very common back in their own world, but he'd never really had any issues accepting the idea that perhaps gender is a more complex beast than people give it credit for. It certainly seems harmless enough to just call people whatever they like. He'd adjusted to Chip quite readily.]
That said, there's nothing stopping you from you doing the same. If you haven't yet, then you can always start!
"Hey, Inda," Claude says softly as he follows Felix into the room. He hasn't gotten to spend nearly as much time with her as Sylvain, or even Felix, but he's still fond of her - and he's even more fond of the way Sylvain dotes on her, and Felix can't help but be soft with her in turn. Usually, though, he just watches indulgently from a distance rather than interacting himself.
He moves over to the bed, eyes drifting inescapably to Sylvain. Like Felix, he keeps thinking of Sylvain waking up, reaching out, doing something...not just thinking it, but craving it with all his heart. He knows it won't happen, can't happen, for a full week yet at least...but it feels so wrong for him to just be lying there. Empty. A bookmark, as he'd once told Dirk, for a story to be picked up again later. Right now, as their own stories continue, Sylvain's has been paused.
It doesn't feel any better now than it did earlier. But...part of him wants to be here for Sylvain, however much it hurts. And part of him knows Felix wants and needs him here to help him with the pain and loneliness of Sylvain's being gone like this, and Claude wants to be here for him, too. Those things mean more than his discomfort.
He slips into bed with Felix, sliding his arms around the (barely) smaller man from behind. And if the uppermost arm reaches past Felix, to lightly rest fingers on Sylvain so that Claude can be touching him too...well, Felix probably understands that completely.
Felix...I'm going to tell you what I told Sylvain. And it's that when we first got here...you didn't know me, either. You hadn't said anything to Sylvain yet. The people we are at home are the people who first arrived here. Nothing that's happened here is anything that doesn't have just as much potential to happen at home.
You really think that because you and Sylvain haven't gotten together yet as of Sylvain's last memory - haven't had the chance to, when you two have been fighting a war - doesn't mean that Felix Fraldarius, back in Fodlan, won't ever work up the nerve. That Felix won't be able to stand the sight of Sylvain being miserable, the thought of him going home to a family you know he hates and that you already hate yourself, any more than the Felix here could. You haven't done anything as of winning the war, maybe, but I don't believe for a second that the Felix back home will let the grass grow under his feet forever. Don't you think maybe back home you just had to wait longer to be free of a war distracting you?
As for us...that's tougher. I'm a continent away. I won't say that things developing back home the same way they did here is...likely, or easy. But I also won't say it's impossible, either. If Fodlan would ever need ambassadors to Almyra, it'd be either you or Sylvain, wouldn't it? You'd be perfect in particular. And if it was either one of you that was sent to Almyra for something, the other one would go. And Dimitri's obviously going to meet with me as a fellow king at times. We'll interact back home. And while the circumstances might be different, we'll have the same potential there as we did here...and you know what we've managed to become here.
We're the same people wherever we are, sunshine. I don't think only one incredibly specific set of circumstances could ever lead to us meshing together the way we have. And just because something hasn't happened yet doesn't mean it never can, or never will.
I want to stay here, too, as it happens - there's a lot of things I'd be forced to leave behind here, with no recourse to get them back at home. But I don't think we'd lose everything. I certainly don't think the four of us would be totally without hope to have there the same kinds of bright futures we hope for here. This isn't the only world where things can work out and we can be happy, or the only world in which certain actions and decisions between the four of us could ever have happened. I don't want you to tell yourself - or anyone else - that it is.
But also...I don't want you to spend the time we have together, now, completely focused on fighting against some bleak future you're afraid of. We don't know if this is all the time we have together or not, or how much time it is that we have. But if you spend it miserable and terrified and chasing after impossibilities to protect the present, are you even going to be able to enjoy the present for what it is? Time you spend hunting a god to make impossible demands so you can stay with me and Dimitri and Sylvain...is time you're not spending with us. How can you preserve your current happiness if you're already sacrificing it?
Felix listens quietly. And as he suspected, most of what Claude has to say makes sense. It sounds rational and sensible. But...it's a little too rational and sensible.
"You're making a lot of assumptions. Our jobs after the war will be harder, not easier. At least while we're fighting, Sylvain and I are...we see each other every day. War is simple. Everything is clear. When it's over, I'll be in over my head, hundreds of miles from both of them with a territory to rebuild and angry nobles to appease and--there's no way in hell I'll have a spare moment to think about any of this. To...to feel anything. ...I won't want to."
And isn't that the real reason he never said anything to Sylvain? It wasn't fear of rejection, not really. It was the same reason he used to keep everyone at a distance back at the academy; the same reason he always convinced himself that love and romance were distractions he couldn't afford. Getting shoved into his father's role to take care of the post-war mess of a suddenly united continent isn't going to make that better.
"And Sylvain...he told me himself, Claude. That if he had to go back to Gautier, he would..." His voice and his breath both catch in his throat and he sets the Gear down to lean it against the lamp the second he feels his hands start to tremble. Goddess, he wishes Claude were here in person, and he feels pathetic for needing that just to have a damn conversation. He forces the words out in a rough almost-whisper, without looking the other man in the eye. "He would find an excuse to fall to a Srengi blade. I've seen that look in his eye before on the battlefield. The closer we get to the end of the war, the more often I see it."
He clenches both hands into fists in his lap. Claude makes it all sound so easy, but he knows, he knows it never is. Felix shouldn't be telling him these things, shouldn't be slicing himself open and bleeding his feelings out like this. Not because he doesn't trust Claude with them, but because they're not all his to tell, and Claude hardly needs more to worry about than he already has. But he can't just pretend to accept a reassurance he doesn't believe in.
"Being forced to treat with you at some diplomatic function I can't stand isn't going to help, either."
Felix digs his fingers into his hair, trying to breathe in deeply and making a low, frustrated noise on the exhale. "Obviously, you're right. Living for the present is the only thing that makes sense. But...I don't know what Sylvain said to you when you told him all this, but he's barely spoken to me all day. He's...thinking too much. It feels like he's going to take off again any minute and--I don't know what to do or say to help him. And don't tell me to just 'be there for him' or 'give him time' or some other useless nonsense. Sylvain...if I can't keep my promise to fight for us and I leave him to his thoughts, he'll drown in them."
Claude listens, and - it's dark. It's heavy. Some of the things Felix says are fears he already has, for all his hopeful talk, and some of it is new. (He really wishes he'd stop finding out painful details about how much Sylvain is hurting through Felix shooting down anything close to optimism or reassurance, for instance.) But if Felix thinks Claude's response is too logical...then Claude thinks Felix's is too bleak.
Felix sounds too much like the defeatist voice in his own head that he long ago realized wasn't worth listening to, unless he was just going to accept laying down and dying the way his own people wished he would. Claude accepted years ago that voice never has anything helpful to say, and hearing its words in Felix's voice don't make it suddenly more compelling. It just makes him ache for Felix, knowing his lover is currently low enough to listen to it.
"Don't you think that's exactly the time when you would say something to Sylvain, though?" he points out gently. "When you realize you're about to be dragged away from him by post-war business for who knows how long, and he's going back to a place that makes him miserable? That seems like a do-or-die moment, sunshine. A prospect you wouldn't be able to accept. You'd do something before you let that happen, Felix. In fact, I think you'd do almost anything before you let it happen. I'm pretty sure you'd explode if you didn't. Like I said - the person I've come to love here is the same Felix from back home. And I can't even begin to see any Felix I've ever known standing back and letting that happen."
He leans back a little in his chair. "And that's another thing - you act as though you're the person Sylvain's fate lives or dies on. Does no one else who cares about him have any responsibility to him? Can no one else do anything for him? You're not the only one who loves him, Felix, and you're not the only one who's trying to keep his head above water. This isn't something you have to do alone, or are doing alone. We're here, too."
He rests his hands on the edge of the desk. "As for what Sylvain said to me...he said I was right. And he smiled, in a way that reached his eyes. There's still plenty for us all to be worried about, him most of all, but...I don't think he's as close to drowning as you think. And you're not the only one who's promised him a life worth living for."
Inda gives Claude a sleepy little wave and a faint smile of greeting, or perhaps gratitude. Once Claude has settled in the bed, Varley rises from her place curled up on the floor to paw at the button to turn the lamp off, before padding around the bed to lick Sylvain's face a few times and returning to her spot.
Felix sighs quietly, relaxing just a little. But he's moving again soon enough, rolling carefully over to wrap his arms around Claude, too, tucking his own head under the other man's chin.
Felix scowls. "I never said that. Don't put words in my mouth. I meant here and now, without you and Dimitri here. But if that's how he responded to you this morning, then I am the only one who's failing him."
Just like he failed Dimitri for all those years. Just like he failed to reconcile with his father until it was too late. If he's the only one who can't help Sylvain, what kind of a husband will he make?
"It's not--I'm not so arrogant as to think that I'm the only one who could do anything. Far from it. I just...I just have to do something. If I can't, then what am I even doing here?"
Mm. It's complicated. I didn't go to war or anything. I did become a more dangerous person.
I don't think my essential, core self is that very different, save that I was a broken man when I came here and by the time I returned, I'd managed to repair myself as much as possible. It's just-- behaviors, I guess.
I suppose one way to explain it was that as a young man, as a member of a minority population that often experiences institutionalized discrimination--and as one who is fairly solidly built besides--I developed habits of body-language built around... well. Minimizing the space I took up. Making myself appear smaller. Non-threatening.
I was still doing that when I was first here and when I fell asleep in Armin's houseboat. I'd stopped doing that in those six years I was home, not the least because my position in my community of survivors *relies* on me being able to present myself as a threat if need be--and over those six years I'd amassed a good deal of skills to back it up.
Now I catch myself going back to those old habits and it's very frustrating.
Edited (Taking code OUT for once) 2021-03-13 13:02 (UTC)
ranma is complicated? that's why i've been using 'them' for ranma lately [Or rather 'that person' but translation effect.] but i don't know what ranma would prefer these days
"You're not failing him, Felix. I'm sure he'd agree with me on that." Claude shrugs. "Hell, what's your metric of succeeding with him? He seemed better after I'd talked to him, but like you said, he's barely spoken a word all day. And neither have you. Did I accomplish anything lasting with him? Am I failing you, considering the state you're in and how nothing I say seems to be making it any better?"
He sighs. "I suppose the question is, what do you want to do for him exactly?"
"Anything." Felix frowns, knowing that's not really an answer but not having much of anything else to offer. "I don't know, just--never mind. Forget it."
Wait--
"--fuck, no, I didn't mean that. It's not you, you're...ugh. I just...need to make things better instead of worse. I don't know how. Not with this kind of thing."
For a few short weeks, Felix could wake up every morning and see something that's been rare for most of their lives: a genuinely happy smile from Sylvain. If those few weeks were it, if that time is over, Felix doesn't want it to be because he's taking his own unhappiness out on Sylvain. The way he's always done, to everyone.
"I'd rather say nothing than drag him down further."
A good place to end it, I think, unless Felix has a closing comment to make
"I want to be here," Claude murmurs, pulling Felix a little closer against him. He's not used to being the big spoon(or any spoon, frankly), but Felix definitely needs it right now, and he's happy to wordlessly meet that need. And heavens know he needs someone to hold right now, too. "For both you and him. You don't need to thank me for that."
He closes his eyes. "Good night, sunshine...good night, Sylvain." His fingers curl a little in the blanket covering Sylvain. "I love you both." Then, with a slight smile as he forces himself to push back the bittersweetness of those good nights... "And good night, Inda, Varley."
Funny...I know someone who does similar to that. I've been working to help them understand they don't have to shrink themselves down or hold themselves back here out of fear of what people will think - helping them embrace their confidence more. I'd say more about them, but the specifics of their marginalization were shared in confidence, so it's not something I have the right to explain...and I don't want to invite speculation even by making it obvious who I'm alluding to. Suffice it to say that I've got a nice clear picture, though.
I've got plenty of experience being hated myself, but I reacted very differently to it, so those experiences aren't too applicable. Also, as you've noticed, I'm not all that physically intimidating. Certainly not compared to some of the company I keep. Even if I'd been more reclusive or done more to avoid confrontation, I'd never have had much need to try to make myself smaller unless it was just to present a harder target to hit.
That said, I doubt you have much call to try to make yourself bigger or more imposing here...but you've obviously got no need to minimize yourself around anyone, either, especially people you've known for awhile. Is it only with people who knew the old you? Or do you sometimes fall into the habit around other people as well?
"Well..." Claude studies Felix briefly. "The first and simplest step to doing that is going to be to take more time to think before you speak. You've got a habit of snapping out not just things you don't mean, but things you do mean but haven't really considered how people will take them - or, for instance, whether there's a way to word what you mean in a way that people might take better. Or whether, for instance, you're saying the right thing to the right person. I won't pretend I don't have my own doubts and fears about the implications of our losing our memories of this place, but...people who have their own doubts and fears about that, about what's going to happen to the five of us, aren't the right ones to talk to about that. I'd just be adding my load on top of the loads the rest of you are already carrying for yourselves. Who does that help?"
He crosses his arms over his chest. "Also, honestly...I really don't think you can make Sylvain feel better about all of this as long as you're convinced that everything will genuinely turn out terrible unless you accomplish something impossible. Because when you get right down to it, Felix - you don't really have any hope for the situation, do you? The best you've come up with for yourself is something to take your mind off of it. Something to convince yourself is productive activity just so you don't go crazy with agony over the idea of there being no actual solutions or hope. How is someone with no hope themselves supposed to make Sylvain believe things will be better than his own darkest fears?
"The best thing you can do for both yourself and Sylvain is to stop calling your pessimism practicality, and your displacement activity as a solution. I don't think even you believe, deep down, that you can find Arceus and make him do what you want. I don't think you even believe you could beg him into it. I'm not even sure how fully you believe in a pokémon god, or his power to grant wishes. So do you think you can make Sylvain believe in something you don't?" He shakes his head. "Sylvain's smart. The smartest man in Fodlan, someone once told me. He knows what you're doing, and why you're doing it. Your love for him and your desperation and willingness to do anything it takes for him - for all of us - means a lot to him, I'm sure of that, but I think that's what really lent weight to this promise you've made him. Not any belief in either of you that you could fulfill this one."
He sighs. "I wish you were here, so I could make you look at me. So just listen to me with all your ears when I say this, sunshine: what you really need to do, what you really need to go looking for, is hope. Hope and faith. Not in anything invisible or unobtainable, but in all of us - and especially yourself. We all need to accept that we could go home at any time, which is hard to swallow...but none of us can or should believe that going home will be the end of the world. For one thing - going back home to our homes, our friends and loved ones, the people who count on us? We're supposed to look on that with dread? We're supposed to be so selfish that we should focus on what we've gained here, and treat everything and everyone we left behind as less important? We've found peace here, so who cares if Almyra or Fodlan ever know the peace we set out to bring them?" He shakes his head. "I can't accept that. I won't accept that."
He fixes Felix with a look. "But more than that - it's not just about others, or duty. I refuse to believe that we're all - or even some of us - going back to misery. At worst, it'll be temporary. I said you wouldn't leave Sylvain alone or let him just go back and be miserable with his family, knowing what you do and being who you are, and I still believe that. I believe all of us - even me with the rest of you - have at least a passing chance, if not better, of coming together again back home the way we did here. What happened to bring us here, and bring us together, has all been unbelievably improbable and miraculous as it is, so the idea that there couldn't possibly be further unexpectedness or miracles - that things that have already happened could never happen again - isn't one I can believe in. And the possibilities I've laid out for you and Sylvain aren't even particularly far-fetched ones. They don't need miracles to happen. Those things are considerably less unlikely than how all of us wound up together in the first place, so don't bother telling me you can't believe they'll happen."
He rests his hands flat on the desk. "And on top of all of that...we have right here, and right now. We don't know how long it'll last. It could end tomorrow, or it could end sixty years from now. We've spent all our lives living with a mortality that isn't any different than that. What answer to that is there - what other answer has there ever been - than to just make the most of the time we have at the sides of the people we're with? To enjoy what we have while we have it? We need to believe that going home will be bittersweet and not just bitter, so that we can feel more than just dread at the thought, the same way one hopes to die a peaceful death after a life well lived to take away some of that fear, but we also need to not be fixating on the unknown moment when what we have will end. It'll only poison what we have now. And for what? Some wild chase after a god you can't possibly compel so you can make selfish demands of it? A chase that'll take you away from Sylvain, the man you're supposedly doing this in order to be with? Who you want to be there for?"
He leans forward. "You and Sylvain both need something to believe in, and hope for the future to look forward to. The reason you haven't been able to help him is because you're just as hollowed out by the thought of the future as he is still, so you don't have anything to offer him except for a promise you both know you can't keep - one that's honestly more for you than for him. But the thing is that there is hope. There are real things you can believe in. There's the present, right here and now. And there's all the possibilities of the future if and when we go home, which aren't nearly as bleak as you think they are. All of these things are worlds more likely than finding Arceus, and you know it, sunshine." His voice softens. "But believing isn't some physical activity you can do, so it doesn't burn off all that nervous energy you've got. And it's terrifying, because hope can fall through - and life has been anything but kind to any of you. Trusting that things can go well is so much harder for you than saying 'I'll make things happen the way I want', right?
"But isn't it kind of ironic you'd try to do that by chasing a pokémon, rather than by making Sylvain's present as incredible as you can? And instead of promising him that you'll save him from his misery when we go home? Sure, maybe you won't remember the promise, but so what? You know how you felt about him back home. You know you wouldn't just leave him to suffer if you could prevent it. So tell him that. Believe, like I believe, that the you back home can't possibly stay silent and stupid for long. Make Sylvain feel like, memories or no memories, here or at home, he'll have a future he doesn't have to dread, and he can trust you to provide it. If you want to take control of the future because you don't trust what it'll hold, then take that responsibility yourself. Don't shove it on Arceus to make it happen. Do it yourself."
Felix listens, and listens, and listens, without interrupting. For once, he's not even a little exasperated at how much Claude is talking, because any of those words could be the key to making some sense out of the hazy mess of feelings and thoughts in his mind.
He is tempted to interrupt once, when Claude tells him to think before he speaks and consider better ways to say things. That's easy for Claude to say, when he can read people like books and somehow predict their reactions. Felix can't even figure out why people are saying the things they're already saying, let alone things they haven't said yet. How the hell is he supposed to know what the right thing is to say to the right person?
But he puts that thought aside for now as Claude goes on. And finally, finally things start to become clearer. There's a part of him that wants to protest, to argue against the assertion that he's not up to the task of finding god and making it submit to his will, but the more rational part of his mind agrees that of course the plan is ridiculous and Sylvain definitely knows it.
The word 'faith' gets Felix scowling, though he still doesn't interrupt. Faith. What good has faith ever done? Besides leave him defenseless when his world fell apart over and over again, knocking him off his feet every single time because he dared to believe. He believed that Glenn was the strongest person he knew and could overcome any foe. He believed that Dimitri would be the same person when he came back from Duscur as he was when he left. He believed that his father, for all his flaws, was a great warrior who would live to be a pain in Felix's ass until he was old and gray. He even believed in the Goddess' will, once upon a time, until it became obvious to him that the Goddess didn't give two shits about any of them. When enough beliefs were shattered, he had to rely on what seemed realistic instead if he didn't want to shatter with them.
And Claude acknowledges that faith is difficult, that hope is terrifying, but how many times does he think Felix can take watching his hopes disintegrate in the Eternal Flames?
Felix is silent for a little while after Claude is finished. True to his lover's expectations, he hasn't looked up to meet his eyes once this whole time, and he still doesn't yet. So Claude's solution really does boil down to having faith in himself, huh? He's been fighting his whole life for enough strength to protect those he loves, but he's never known how to do it this way. He's forced to admit to himself that his heart is as weak as his sword arm is strong. Why else would he try so hard for so long to push the very people he wants to protect away from him? Tactically unsound at best, just as Seteth said. His defenses may once have been sufficient to keep that weak heart from breaking completely, but they've been wearing thin ever since--no, even before he arrived in Johto.
They've been wearing thin ever since Dimitri found himself again in Fhirdiad.
Eventually, Felix raises his head to look at Claude. "You're right," he says quietly, "about almost everything. You compared our situation here to the fear of mortality at home. And you say I need to have faith in myself not to stay a coward forever. But I don't. Because the way I avoided that fear then was to let myself feel as little as possible. Keep everyone at a distance and focus on what was in front of me. Training. Studies. The war. As long as there was another battle to fight, another technique to learn, then I could put my emotions aside for the sake of progress."
That's as long as he can take meeting Claude's gaze; his own shifts a little to focus on the air just beside his Gear. "And I don't think I was wrong to do so. Not while the Empire still stood. Emotions have no place on the battlefield or in the war room. They'll have no place in governance, either. Here, with all of you, I've...let my guard down. I don't regret it. And I want to believe I could do it again, I just...don't know how to train my heart to be strong enough for that belief. And until I do believe it, I won't give Sylvain empty words."
[... Steven is maybe going to guess Grant, but only because he's also not white.]
Not *only*, but so much more often than with other people. And it's just-- it's irritating. When I find myself slipping into my old habits of holding myself, it's *irritating*. And frustrating.
I've been thinking about *why* I do it and I wonder if I'm responding to people's expectations of me too. Not even necessarily conscious ones? But when you get to know someone, you start expecting them to act a certain way. Just, well, consistent with how they have before. If someone starts suddenly holding themself differently, you'd notice right? It would be really weird, wouldn't it?
[A thought strikes him and Steven swears out loud.]
My first time here, one of my best friends was a man named Tyler, about your age. We were from the same world, even though we never met each other there. I know now that he went to university with my friend Gil back home, but the first time I was here, I hadn't met Gil yet.
But here's the thing: Tyler hates when people change on him.
And here's the other thing: technically, I came back here once during the six years I was away. It was a weird weekend, the first one, and I didn't *remember* being here before at that time. It happened *months* before I even fell asleep and got 'canon updated.' But I did encounter myself as I am now (technically myself as I was a year ago from my perspective) and I remember the old me being a mix of envious and jealous of the me I am now, because he seemed like he had everything together in a way that I didn't--though I suppose it went both ways, as me a year ago envied the old me for being happily in love, not realizing how shaky a foundation that love rested upon. Basically, the entire thing was timeline shenanigans and a complete headache for both old me and me-a-year-ago.
The point is, me-a-year-ago ended up encountering Tyler and he *hated* me almost instantly, because I wasn't the Steven he expected me to be, but some new and different asshole.
Tyler disappeared about a week after I got back from my 'canon update.' I hadn't had a chance to have a real talk with him since said update? Honestly, I'd been dreading doing it. And then it never happened. Because he was gone.
And I just realized, just now, that possibly the whole Tyler thing has a *lot* to do with why I feel tempted to slip back into the old me with people I used to know.
[Hilariously, it is Grant, but for completely different reasons than Steven thinks.]
Isn't it also possible you're projecting what you expect them to expect of you onto them? I mean, just as a possibility? Maybe they don't actually expect you to act like your old self, but part of you thinks they do, and you respond to that. Or maybe you're worried that your relationships with them are contingent on you being like the old you, so you try to mimic your old self on a subconscious level. That certainly wouldn't be surprising. You're very aware of how you've changed to them, and how they haven't changed to you. There might be some subconscious effort you're making to go "see, I'm still the same me" to them, even though in many ways you're not. But if those relationships are worth preserving to you, then you've definitely got a motive to try and preserve them, and if you think that requires being the person you used to be to some degree, well...
Mind you, I'm just theorizing. It could also be them expecting something different from you, too. But they're not here, and I don't even know who we're talking about, so I can't even begin to hazard a guess what they think or expect. All I can really analyze with even the faintest possibility of accuracy here is you, and what you might be thinking and doing. And a lot of that is just projecting anyway, so take it for whatever it's worth. Which could be nothing!
Still...the whole Tyler thing you mention definitely seems to lend some weight to the possibilities I'm suggesting. That maybe it's your idea of what other people expect from you, and your worry about how much change the people who used to know you perceive in you - and how that will affect your relationships with them - that's influencing your behavior, rather than it necessarily being what they want or expect.
The upside to all this is that if it's you assuming what people expect, and how they might react to your meeting - or not meeting - their expectations, then there's a chance that your assumptions might be wrong.
Claude studies Felix through the screen, but since Felix isn't looking at him, he misses Claude's little smile. He also misses when Claude quietly turns the video off.
This isn't the end of the conversation, however. Quiet footsteps are heard outside of Felix's door just a few moments later, and then Claude is letting himself into the room. He shuts the door behind him before moving directly over to Felix, reaching out to stroke a hand through his hair and then down his cheek to cup his face.
Now, Felix can see Claude's slight smile. "I think you're right not to say things to Sylvain that you don't yet believe," he murmurs. "It wouldn't help him, because I think he'd feel that the words were hollow. And you do need to have more faith in yourself and the people around you, sunshine...but it doesn't need to be blind faith. I was never asking you to have faith in something you've got no reason to believe in.
"I want you to have faith in yourself because you've already shown that it's justified. Like you said, you've started to open up here. You've given Sylvain a good life and a future full of happiness and promise here. You've changed here, haven't you? If you needed to close yourself off during the war to keep going, that's understandable, and that very well could be the reason why the you back home hasn't made the developments you have yet. But you've seen in yourself, here, how much not having a war on your plate can let you change. Now that the war in Sylvain's time back home is over...can't you trust that the Felix there can make the same changes? Can open up the same way, given the same sort of opportunity? He might have more responsibilities there, I'll grant you, but his priorities won't be any different. And Sylvain is one of Felix Fraldarius' very highest priorities."
He strokes his thumb over Felix's cheek. "So this faith...it isn't blind faith. It isn't hoping for something you have no proof could ever happen. I'm asking you to trust that the same person will make the same sorts of choices you already know he's made before, when given a chance. That's barely even faith. It's more like trusting you to believe in the balance of probability, when you already know what's probable because it's already happened once. You can do that, can't you?"
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