Claude doesn't resist; if anything, he seems to relax a little at Felix's touch, letting himself be drawn down onto the bed. (Sturm and Sicily quickly shift to make room for them.) Felix's words unwind him just a little bit more; he closes his eyes. "So that's why...I was wondering why you guys hadn't told us. Even making plans to get Sylvain a place to stay..."
He opens his eyes again when Felix mentions what Sylvain had been afraid of. "Have you ever cared about him fighting beyond making sure he's able to keep himself alive?" he asks, in the tone of voice of someone who's baffled Sylvain ever thought otherwise. That alone might be unintentional but deep reassurance to Felix; Claude, who can read him so well - but who also hasn't known him for nearly as long as Sylvain - knows that the only reason Felix ever even bothered Sylvain about training was out of worry for Sylvain's well-being, never because he'd wanted him to have to fight. (Well, beyond sparring for fun. Felix will spar with anyone for fun who'll stand still long enough to be challenged.) "And Dimitri would do anything at all to make Sylvain happy. No amount of missing having Sylvain always with us would matter to Dimitri more than Sylvain being comfortable."
Claude's brain may be foggy, but it's not that foggy. Sylvain's worries were a product of his own insecurity, and never anything based on what was real or likely. (That Claude has been suffering from a similar problem today is not something he can recognize quite yet.)
He exhales at Felix's diagnosis. "I've never lost anyone before," he murmurs. "No one I was really close to, anyway. And my schemes are usually good enough that I haven't come all that close, even in battle...not that the Alliance saw a whole lot of open battle the past five years anyway, other than Derdriu." He shakes his head. "But I'm - we're not losing Sylvain. We know what's going on. So why am I still such a mess?"
Felix huffs a little at his own expense. "Calling it a 'plan' is generous. All I did was insist that we'd do it. But it won't just be for Sylvain--it will be for all of us."
His expression sours as he shakes his head. "No, I haven't. I don't know why he can't see that. I keep telling him to stop needlessly putting himself in danger, but..." He trails off. This conversation isn't about them, it's about Claude.
"Because you feel helpless." Felix says this with certainty. "You have no control over what happens to him and it's terrifying. You feel like you should be doing something, but there's nothing to do. Neither my strength nor your schemes can fix this, or prevent it from happening to anyone else."
He lets go of one of Claude's hands to put an arm around him instead, sliding a bit closer. "This is the part where many people would pray, because they're content putting their fates and the fates of others in the hands of some distant power. But I don't think you're any more inclined to such a thing than I am, even if any gods we recognized existed here."
Claude leans against Felix, closing his eyes. "We don't believe in the Goddess in Almyra," he murmurs. "She never really bothered with anyone or anything outside of Fodlan, and as far as I can tell, no one outside of Fodlan had any reason to care about her in turn. If anything, people back then might've resented her for only caring about one place in all the world...but that's just speculation, really. But it was a little awkward to go to school in the heart of the Church of Seiros as a non-believer, pretending I was one..."
He exhales slowly. "Even if I was inclined to believe in some higher power, though, I don't think I'd want to trust something as important as Sylvain's wellbeing to some external power. You're right - I'd rather be able to do something for him myself. But I can't." One of his hands curls into a fist. "And he's just - lying there. I could go a week without seeing him just fine if I knew he was just traveling, or staying somewhere, or doing his own thing somewhere else, but...having him right here with us and not being able to see his eyes, hear his voice...it feels so much worse than just being away from him. I can't stand it, but I can't fix it. Part of me wants to be there with him, and part of me is pretty sure I'll fall apart if I am. And I can't afford to do that."
Felix lets go of Claude's other hand now, too, so he can gently comb his fingers through the mess that the other man has made of his hair, as they talk. It's good, he thinks, that some idle speculation works its way into the conversation. It makes Claude sound more like himself, which means his mind is working again. That's a good sign.
"Hm. I'm sure it didn't help that prayers and choir practice were mandatory. Or that holy knights wandered around everywhere armed to the teeth."
Felix looks down at nothing and nods along. There's a part of him that's relieved to know that Claude trusts Felix enough to talk about these things; that the trust isn't just one-sided. But the way Claude describes the way he feels hits home so hard that he can feel tension building behind his eyes and in his throat. Dammit, not now...
"Me too." It's not a response to any one thing, just all of it in general. "But why can't you afford that?"
Talking to Felix about this really is helping. Realizing that Felix already understood, that he's not really having that much different of a reaction from the others, and Felix helping him to put words to it - it's made it easier to talk about, less something to hide or be ashamed of. Though it's more than that, really; Dimitri and Grant had been helping him a lot, too. But...he'd needed it from Felix specifically. Dimitri had been right. Not because Felix is any more special than the others, necessarily, but because Felix had been the one Claude had felt rejected by, and useless to. Because Felix had been the one Claude thought would scorn his feeling this way, when Claude feels as if Felix is the one who has more right to these emotions than he does. Because Felix is the one who looks down on emotions and vulnerability so much that he's the one Claude felt as though would have no patience for his - perhaps because of Felix's unintentional similarity, in many ways, to Almyran warriors.
(Granted, Felix's standards on emotions and vulnerability usually only apply to himself. But Claude hasn't yet had many chances to see how he reacts to it in others - or in Claude himself, specifically.)
Dimitri and Grant had helped Claude as much as they could, but they couldn't have reassured any of his doubts or fears in regards to Felix. That had been something only Felix could do. And, likely to the surprise of everyone, not least of which is Felix himself...he kind of has.
That doesn't mean every reservation on Claude has loosed its grip, though.
"I can't afford it because I can't hold things together if I'm breaking down." Claude sighs at the fingers through his hair. This is honestly more tender than he can ever remember Felix being with him, and he won't deny it feels good. "That's more important now than ever, and I'm the best at it out of all of us. Mediating things with you and Sylvain, dealing with Dimitri and Grant's low self-esteem, keeping people's spirits up, talking sense into them...you know what I'm talking about. I'm practically always doing something like that. But if I let myself fall apart...I can't do any of that. Sylvain can do some of it, too, but...he's not around to do it right now. It's just me. Who's going to make things better if I don't?"
That last question...well, Claude's lived his life by that question for a long time.
"So you still feel as though you have a responsibility, even here." It's quiet. "You and Dimitri have that in common--always taking responsibility onto your shoulders even when you don't have to. I suppose I'm not surprised. You are both kings."
Felix shakes his head. "Maybe no one will. Maybe things just don't get better for a while. We learn to live with it and move on. At least here, the stakes are low. It's not a matter of life or death if you drop the ball for a few days. Just don't get so lost in it that you can't find your way back. Don't get so wrapped up in the assumption that it's all your responsibility that you shut everyone out."
"It's not just that I feel like I have to - although I kind of do." Claude finally lifts his head to look at Felix directly. "I also want to, for...well, the same reasons I feel like I have to. I don't think anyone else could do as good of a job as I can. I think it's fair to say I get you guys, right? How's anyone who doesn't understand you all as well as I do supposed to help you with things as well as I can? And you all mean too much to me to just...let someone else come in and do a bad job. Like someone who doesn't stop Sylvain from using jokes that tear himself down, or who doesn't know how to help you share things, or who doesn't know how to distract Dimitri when he's starting to beat himself up again, or who doesn't know how to help Grant relax.
"What am I supposed to do? Let those things go undone? Let someone else do them badly because I'm not up to it? I can't. I won't. It's too important. You guys are too important." He shakes his head. "And I don't consider you guys being miserable when I could do anything to help to be low stakes."
Felix listens, though as Claude seeks eye contact, he shies away from it, as is his wont. And the more he listens, the more he frowns; the more he feels...manipulated. Looked down on. But...this is Claude. He loves and respects them...right?
Doesn't he?
A weird hollow feeling settles in his chest as he shifts, turning to face Claude a little more and in the process push himself a little farther away. He narrows his eyes. When he speaks, his words come out slowly.
"I see. So when I talked to Sylvain about that card revealing his feelings to me, about me, I suppose I must have done a poor job. As Dimitri must have, when I spoke with him about my father's funeral. How would you know what I share with anyone else? Or what I say to Sylvain or Dimitri in private? ...is this really how you think of us? What exactly is it that you think you have to do?"
Claude blinks at him for a moment. "What? No, that's - that's not what I meant." He runs a hand through his hair again. "I didn't mean I do a better job than you guys at talking to each other, or helping each other or anything. I meant that no one else can do what I do as well as I do. And a lot of what I do is help you guys. That's what I want to do.
"Even back when I wasn't all that close with Sylvain yet, and not close to you at all...when I realized you and Sylvain were hurting, that things had gone wrong for you guys, all I wanted to do was fix that. So I did everything I could to help. That hasn't really changed since. It's only gotten more important to me the more I've come to care about all of you. And at least until today, I thought I was pretty good at it. That I knew how to make you guys feel better when you were upset, get you to talk to me about things that were bothering you, help cheer you up...this is the first time I really haven't been able to make a dent."
He shakes his head. "I was never - factoring in how you guys do or don't help each other. I don't affect that. It's like...we're all support beams holding each other up. I wasn't saying I'm the only one any of you have; we all have more than one. I was saying if I'm kicked out from under you guys because I let myself fall apart, there's nobody else who could step in to hold things up half as well. And of all the times to leave you guys short a support, it shouldn't be when there's an extra heavy load. And that's exactly what me breaking down would mean. You'd have each other, but you'd still be down someone who was helping hold you up. And...well, there's no particularly tactful way to say this, but I feel like usually I'm in a better place mentally than any of you. Even if I had any good excuse to be the weak link right now, if I can't hold up, then how can you guys?"
Felix scowls. "We're not some...project for you to hone your people skills on, Claude. And we're not broken things that need fixing. Or weak links. Do you hear yourself?"
He wants to leave. He badly wants to storm out of the room and get away from the conclusion that seems more and more inevitable the more Claude talks. But no doubt Dimitri would accuse him of not being gentle enough.
Well, Felix may not be very gentle, but he has plenty of experience standing up to people who thought he needed to be fixed. And stand up he does.
"You say you've never lost anyone close to you before. You think the fact that we have makes us weak?"
"No, that's not..." Claude drops his gaze. He's - ruining things. Everything is still going wrong, everything he says making things worse somehow. Only now, it's not his efforts to help that are wrong. It's how he thinks, what he feels, his very desire to help that's wrong. Felix thinks he's looking down on them for wanting to help them, and...is he? Maybe he is. At this point, how the hell would he even be able to tell? He's clearly in no state to judge.
"I wasn't trying to say any of that." But there's something defeated in his voice now. Nothing else has been good enough; why would this be?
"Then what are you saying?" Felix lowers his head and rubs his face with both hands, sitting back down again. His fingers slide up into his hair and he just sits that way, elbows resting on his knees, head resting in his hands. "Stop comparing us. Just because something hits you harder than usual, doesn't mean the rest of us are helpless. I don't understand what you're getting at. It sounds like you think you're more resilient than the rest of us and that makes it your job to fix every problem we have."
Claude shakes his head slightly. His arms have slipped around himself, hands cupping his elbows. "At this point, I don't trust myself to say what I mean," he mutters. "Nothing's coming out right. I'm just making things worse."
They seem to have regressed to an earlier point in this conversation, with Claude as distressed and uncommunicative as before and saying the same sort of things he was saying about his attempt to comfort Felix earlier in the day.
"I just thought - everyone wants to fix the problems the people they care about are having. Don't they?"
Even though he thinks this must surely be the least contentious statement it's possible to make, he's still huddled in on himself, expecting it to somehow be wrong. He's surprised Felix hasn't already blown up and left, but it's just a matter of time at this point. One or two more missteps will be plenty. And then what? When is he going to find his feet enough to repair what he's managed to break?
Felix takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, pulling on his own hair in an attempt to get back in the saddle. Emotionally speaking. It's made a little easier by the relief he feels; Claude didn't mean the things it sounded like he meant. But Felix can't parse any of it. How does Claude usually do this?
No, he can't try to do things the Claude way. He'll just fail. He's not Claude. He's Felix. Words don't work.
He sits up and scoots back over to wrap his arms completely around Claude in a tight embrace.
"Yes. They do. I'm sorry. I just don't understand why you're so determined to take it all on yourself. Or why you think you're not supposed to feel just as much as the rest of us. It's just like you always tell me--I can't help if I don't know enough, right? And don't tell me I shouldn't be trying to help you, I'm doing it anyway, and you can't stop me."
The embrace is as much a surprise as it is a relief; Felix wouldn't be hugging him if he was on the verge of storming out, so maybe things aren't as bad as Claude thought they were. He leans into the other man, closing his eyes against the sting behind him.
Knowing that Felix isn't ready to storm out with the next miscalculated thing he says...it makes him more willing to risk trying again.
"I'm not trying to take it all on," he murmurs. "Just...the same amount I always have. I can't just...suddenly stop helping you guys because I let myself fall apart. If you guys need my support, then I don't have that luxury. And if you're fine without it, like it makes no difference if I suddenly stop helping...then what was my help ever worth?" He exhales. "But - I know that's not the case. You guys have said I've helped, and I thought I had. So you can't tell me it's going to be fine if I just suddenly turn useless right when things are extra hard for everyone. I know that's not true."
He hesitates for a moment before he speaks. "As for why I'm not supposed to feel as much as the rest of you...it's because I'm Almyran. Even this much back home - I'd look pathetic. It wouldn't just make my people think less of me, it'd make me look like a weak and unfit king. It'd undermine my authority. It'd make me look more like a poor excuse of an Almyran than I already do to them, because Almyrans aren't like this. This wouldn't even slow down a real Almyran. And I can't afford to be...not Almyran enough. Not even just for appearances, or being able to feel like like I actually belong in the country I was born in, but because it just gives ammunition to the people who want to kill and supplant me as king. Which is a lot of Almyrans still. The weaker I look, the more danger I'm in. And I know I'm not in Almyra now, but - it's always with me. And even if it wasn't, I'm never going to live up to their standards if I just accept falling short of them because no Almyran is watching."
"I'm not telling you it's going to be fine. I'm telling you there's space in between 'we need you to be perfect' and 'you're of no use at all.'" Felix frowns, trying to figure out how to put this. "It's like...the beams. If the structure is built well, then when one support fails, the weight is redistributed among the others until that one can be repaired. So even though the structure is weaker than usual overall, it doesn't fall."
He hopes that makes sense. He's no architect, but it seems right to him.
But the rest...he falls silent until Claude is finished. Then, quietly, "...oh. You're training." It is a matter of life and death, just as much as it is for Felix on the training grounds. "I know it's not the same, but in our own ways, Dimitri and Sylvain and Ingrid and I have all felt that we weren't what Faerghus wanted us to be, either. But even Dimitri doesn't have to put up with the kind of pressure you describe."
His brow furrows. "But you can't erase how you feel. I know; I've tried. You've seen firsthand how well that's worked. I know you want to do something to help Sylvain and you can't, so you're trying to do something to help us instead. You've been through the same battlefield first aid training as I have--you know that you can't treat someone else's wounds until you stop yourself from bleeding out. All I'm asking you to do is figure out how to stop your own bleeding before you worry about ours, even if it's just for tonight."
Claude sighs. "I remember awhile ago," he murmurs, "I was talking to Dimitri. I think it was when he tried to go swimming after Grindy. He was saying he should be able to fix his own problems, so he wouldn't be a burden to anyone else. I told him friendship doesn't work like that - that it's more comparable to leaning pieces of wood up against each other, and finding the delicate balance where their leaning on each other is actually what keeps both pieces upright. Mutual support, you know?" He shakes his head. "And I told him that's important to figure out, because he can't stand all on his own the way he could if he leaned on us...but that if he falls over completely, he can't help any of us. This feels like - I'm failing my own advice in that regard. But maybe it's because I wasn't thinking of more than two pieces of wood at a time."
He heaves another, deeper sigh. "But even if you guys can pick up my slack, and it's okay as far as that goes...I don't know how not to feel useless because of it. And I can't not know how many people would look at it, either - how short I'm falling. Even if I let myself fall apart, or just worry about myself first...I don't think I can not feel worthless if I do. So it just feels like...I'm just choosing what way I want to bleed, not that there's an option that'll help me stop I should be choosing."
"Hmph. You are failing your own advice. It was good advice."
Felix nods. "You're right. You will feel useless. So do I. If there were some way to avoid it, I'd have found it a long time ago. There isn't, so...we'll just have to feel useless together, until we get over it. Keep ourselves occupied." He rests his head against Claude's. "Sleep helps. ...I can stay here. If you want."
"I didn't mean I was failing to take the lesson to heart." Claude cocks an eyebrow at him. "I meant...I feel like the failure I illustrated in that story. The person who's fallen down and can't help anyone else. Only I don't think I was trying to stand on my own that much...I was doing fine until now. I didn't even feel all that stressed until Dedue vanished and we had to help Dimitri through that, but it wasn't anything I couldn't have handled just fine. No more stressful than other things I've helped people through without a problem. So it feels like I've collapsed without doing anything that would've brought it on...and it's not like I love Sylvain any more than you or Dimitri do. So why am I the only one who can't hold it together now?"
He closes his eyes again when Felix rests their heads together. "No...I know you want to be with Sylvain. And he should have someone with him, even if there's no chance he's going to wake up this soon. I don't like the thought of just...leaving him alone. I'll come with you."
He's still not sure he'll be able to keep it together, seeing the upsetting unresponsiveness of Sylvain up close again. It's impossible not to desperately miss him when he's both right there and a million miles away. But...things being better between him and Felix makes Claude feel a little more up to trying. And whether or not he can...realizing how much it means to him for someone to be with Sylvain, keeping him company, feels like it's rearranged his priorities a little. That's more important to him than how he personally feels, or even what anyone in Almyra thinks of him. He wouldn't let any Almyran's opinion - or the opinions of everyone in Almyra - dictate what he did or how he treated Sylvain while the man was conscious; why should now be different?
"Because you're the only one this is new for." Felix shrugs. "It's a different kind of pain. The uncertainty makes it worse. You don't know what you're supposed to feel. I imagine that it must be particularly difficult for you--you're always trying to predict and plan."
Felix lifts his head and blinks. "...all right. Thank you. I'd prefer to be there with Inda, as well." He finally releases Claude and stands, offering him a hand.
Claude sighs, smiling faintly. "I guess you might be right." He shakes his head. "You know, this feels like a reversal of how things normally go with us. You're helping me figure out my feelings instead of the other way around..." His soft gaze finds Felix's eyes. "Thank you, sunshine."
He takes Felix's hand, rising to his feet. "I should go let Dimitri and Grant know that I'm feeling better. Give me a sec?"
Those look more like the eyes Felix is used to seeing--still not exactly sparkling, but they seem to have regained some of their life, and even just that alongside the nickname is enough of a return to familiarity that it helps. He can't hold Claude's gaze for more than a couple of seconds, but he nods; everything is too raw for him to try to back away from this closeness now with excuses. "You're welcome. I wasn't sure I could, or that you would want me to try, so...I'm glad Dimitri was right."
He squeezes Claude's hand lightly. "All right. I'll wait--" In the other room, is what he was going to say, but maybe it's better if he and Claude go back into that room together. Besides, if Dimitri and Grant are still loitering out in the hall, Felix doesn't really want to have to talk to them. "--here."
"He was. Some of the things I was worried about had to do with you, so nobody else could have reassured me." Claude moves past Felix, pausing to press a light kiss to his jaw as he passes. "And Dimitri knew you could. You ought to have more faith in yourself."
Then Claude slips out of the room, and Felix will hear faint murmuring just outside the door. However, he won't get long to pay attention to that (or consider eavesdropping) before he's distracted.
Arbiter, who's been looming large but silent this whole time, shifts in order to lean down, lightly resting his beak on Felix's shoulder. A red eye - eternally baleful by the nature of Corviknights, but somehow calm for now - blinks slowly at Felix, before Arbiter's head lifts again.
There's something...strangely formal about the gesture, somehow. It's almost reminiscent of the flat of a sword being laid atop one's shoulder in recognition of some great deed. It certainly seems to be some kind of odd gesture of benediction from one of Claude's most notoriously protective, judgmental pokémon.
Felix will notice, in fact, that most of Claude's pokémon are currently regarding him. (Not, perhaps, too surprising, as with Claude's absence there's not a whole lot else to pay attention to in the room besides each other, but it might make Felix a little awkward. But there's a definite air of approval. In fact, Sturm beams and actually claps his hands in obvious indication of his happiness. Clearly, Claude's fussing team are happy that Felix has helped Claude out of his funk.
Nowhere is this more evident than in Jadoube the Zoroark, who has some interesting options for showing her approval. She shakes herself off and straightens up...and then, with a shimmer of illusion, she takes on the appearance of Claude himself. And (s)he gives Felix a thumbs up. "You did great!" she says, in Claude's own voice.
There's a certain tone to that praise, interestingly - Felix, having grown so familiar with Claude, might recognize it. It's got that fond, almost paternal tone Claude gets when he's talking to his pokémon, not to another person. Jadoube may well be parroting what Claude tells them when they've done well, in order to communicate the same to Felix.
This friendly (if faintly disturbing) message imparted, the illusion fades and Jadoube is simply a Zoroark again.
You ought to have more faith in yourself. That's just the kind of thing Felix would expect from Claude--always lifting people up, even if all Felix did was lay out the unfortunate truth of what it's like to lose someone you love. He has plenty of faith in himself when it comes to things he knows how to do, but reassuring people is very much not one of them. So hearing that Claude appreciated the talk anyway is a comfort.
He startles when an enormous beak comes down to rest on his shoulder. He turns with wide eyes to see Arbiter looking back at him in approval. "Oh. You're...welcome?" The gesture is an abrupt reminder that these Pokemon were here to witness that entire conversation, have been watching him and listening this whole time. If he thinks about it too much, he'll feel humiliated, so instead he turns his attention to the fact that he's now the center of their attention.
"What?" He can't help backing away a little toward the door at their staring, despite the fact that they're obviously the opposite of upset with him. There's a reason he put all of his and Sylvain's Pokemon other than Inda in their balls today, even Varley. He didn't want to feel watched in his raw, pathetic state. "I caused the problem in the first place, I was just...rectifying it. That's all."
Then the Zoroark moves, and Felix stares as she...turns into Claude and uses his voice. What the fuck? What the fuck.
"Uh...thanks. Don't ever do that again. ...I have to go."
Sure, he said he'd wait here, but he didn't say he'd necessarily stay on this side of the door. He hopes Claude is almost finished with his talk, because he's absolutely going out into the hall now.
Felix will hear a huff from Sicily as he heads out. It's aimed more at his fellow pokémon - look, you spooked the human now.
Claude, meanwhile, looks up in slight surprise when Felix pops out of his room. "Hey - was I taking that long?" His assumption is that Felix got impatient, and that's why he ducked out rather than waiting any longer.
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He opens his eyes again when Felix mentions what Sylvain had been afraid of. "Have you ever cared about him fighting beyond making sure he's able to keep himself alive?" he asks, in the tone of voice of someone who's baffled Sylvain ever thought otherwise. That alone might be unintentional but deep reassurance to Felix; Claude, who can read him so well - but who also hasn't known him for nearly as long as Sylvain - knows that the only reason Felix ever even bothered Sylvain about training was out of worry for Sylvain's well-being, never because he'd wanted him to have to fight. (Well, beyond sparring for fun. Felix will spar with anyone for fun who'll stand still long enough to be challenged.) "And Dimitri would do anything at all to make Sylvain happy. No amount of missing having Sylvain always with us would matter to Dimitri more than Sylvain being comfortable."
Claude's brain may be foggy, but it's not that foggy. Sylvain's worries were a product of his own insecurity, and never anything based on what was real or likely. (That Claude has been suffering from a similar problem today is not something he can recognize quite yet.)
He exhales at Felix's diagnosis. "I've never lost anyone before," he murmurs. "No one I was really close to, anyway. And my schemes are usually good enough that I haven't come all that close, even in battle...not that the Alliance saw a whole lot of open battle the past five years anyway, other than Derdriu." He shakes his head. "But I'm - we're not losing Sylvain. We know what's going on. So why am I still such a mess?"
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His expression sours as he shakes his head. "No, I haven't. I don't know why he can't see that. I keep telling him to stop needlessly putting himself in danger, but..." He trails off. This conversation isn't about them, it's about Claude.
"Because you feel helpless." Felix says this with certainty. "You have no control over what happens to him and it's terrifying. You feel like you should be doing something, but there's nothing to do. Neither my strength nor your schemes can fix this, or prevent it from happening to anyone else."
He lets go of one of Claude's hands to put an arm around him instead, sliding a bit closer. "This is the part where many people would pray, because they're content putting their fates and the fates of others in the hands of some distant power. But I don't think you're any more inclined to such a thing than I am, even if any gods we recognized existed here."
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He exhales slowly. "Even if I was inclined to believe in some higher power, though, I don't think I'd want to trust something as important as Sylvain's wellbeing to some external power. You're right - I'd rather be able to do something for him myself. But I can't." One of his hands curls into a fist. "And he's just - lying there. I could go a week without seeing him just fine if I knew he was just traveling, or staying somewhere, or doing his own thing somewhere else, but...having him right here with us and not being able to see his eyes, hear his voice...it feels so much worse than just being away from him. I can't stand it, but I can't fix it. Part of me wants to be there with him, and part of me is pretty sure I'll fall apart if I am. And I can't afford to do that."
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"Hm. I'm sure it didn't help that prayers and choir practice were mandatory. Or that holy knights wandered around everywhere armed to the teeth."
Felix looks down at nothing and nods along. There's a part of him that's relieved to know that Claude trusts Felix enough to talk about these things; that the trust isn't just one-sided. But the way Claude describes the way he feels hits home so hard that he can feel tension building behind his eyes and in his throat. Dammit, not now...
"Me too." It's not a response to any one thing, just all of it in general. "But why can't you afford that?"
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(Granted, Felix's standards on emotions and vulnerability usually only apply to himself. But Claude hasn't yet had many chances to see how he reacts to it in others - or in Claude himself, specifically.)
Dimitri and Grant had helped Claude as much as they could, but they couldn't have reassured any of his doubts or fears in regards to Felix. That had been something only Felix could do. And, likely to the surprise of everyone, not least of which is Felix himself...he kind of has.
That doesn't mean every reservation on Claude has loosed its grip, though.
"I can't afford it because I can't hold things together if I'm breaking down." Claude sighs at the fingers through his hair. This is honestly more tender than he can ever remember Felix being with him, and he won't deny it feels good. "That's more important now than ever, and I'm the best at it out of all of us. Mediating things with you and Sylvain, dealing with Dimitri and Grant's low self-esteem, keeping people's spirits up, talking sense into them...you know what I'm talking about. I'm practically always doing something like that. But if I let myself fall apart...I can't do any of that. Sylvain can do some of it, too, but...he's not around to do it right now. It's just me. Who's going to make things better if I don't?"
That last question...well, Claude's lived his life by that question for a long time.
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Felix shakes his head. "Maybe no one will. Maybe things just don't get better for a while. We learn to live with it and move on. At least here, the stakes are low. It's not a matter of life or death if you drop the ball for a few days. Just don't get so lost in it that you can't find your way back. Don't get so wrapped up in the assumption that it's all your responsibility that you shut everyone out."
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"What am I supposed to do? Let those things go undone? Let someone else do them badly because I'm not up to it? I can't. I won't. It's too important. You guys are too important." He shakes his head. "And I don't consider you guys being miserable when I could do anything to help to be low stakes."
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Doesn't he?
A weird hollow feeling settles in his chest as he shifts, turning to face Claude a little more and in the process push himself a little farther away. He narrows his eyes. When he speaks, his words come out slowly.
"I see. So when I talked to Sylvain about that card revealing his feelings to me, about me, I suppose I must have done a poor job. As Dimitri must have, when I spoke with him about my father's funeral. How would you know what I share with anyone else? Or what I say to Sylvain or Dimitri in private? ...is this really how you think of us? What exactly is it that you think you have to do?"
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"Even back when I wasn't all that close with Sylvain yet, and not close to you at all...when I realized you and Sylvain were hurting, that things had gone wrong for you guys, all I wanted to do was fix that. So I did everything I could to help. That hasn't really changed since. It's only gotten more important to me the more I've come to care about all of you. And at least until today, I thought I was pretty good at it. That I knew how to make you guys feel better when you were upset, get you to talk to me about things that were bothering you, help cheer you up...this is the first time I really haven't been able to make a dent."
He shakes his head. "I was never - factoring in how you guys do or don't help each other. I don't affect that. It's like...we're all support beams holding each other up. I wasn't saying I'm the only one any of you have; we all have more than one. I was saying if I'm kicked out from under you guys because I let myself fall apart, there's nobody else who could step in to hold things up half as well. And of all the times to leave you guys short a support, it shouldn't be when there's an extra heavy load. And that's exactly what me breaking down would mean. You'd have each other, but you'd still be down someone who was helping hold you up. And...well, there's no particularly tactful way to say this, but I feel like usually I'm in a better place mentally than any of you. Even if I had any good excuse to be the weak link right now, if I can't hold up, then how can you guys?"
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He wants to leave. He badly wants to storm out of the room and get away from the conclusion that seems more and more inevitable the more Claude talks. But no doubt Dimitri would accuse him of not being gentle enough.
Well, Felix may not be very gentle, but he has plenty of experience standing up to people who thought he needed to be fixed. And stand up he does.
"You say you've never lost anyone close to you before. You think the fact that we have makes us weak?"
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"I wasn't trying to say any of that." But there's something defeated in his voice now. Nothing else has been good enough; why would this be?
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They seem to have regressed to an earlier point in this conversation, with Claude as distressed and uncommunicative as before and saying the same sort of things he was saying about his attempt to comfort Felix earlier in the day.
"I just thought - everyone wants to fix the problems the people they care about are having. Don't they?"
Even though he thinks this must surely be the least contentious statement it's possible to make, he's still huddled in on himself, expecting it to somehow be wrong. He's surprised Felix hasn't already blown up and left, but it's just a matter of time at this point. One or two more missteps will be plenty. And then what? When is he going to find his feet enough to repair what he's managed to break?
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No, he can't try to do things the Claude way. He'll just fail. He's not Claude. He's Felix. Words don't work.
He sits up and scoots back over to wrap his arms completely around Claude in a tight embrace.
"Yes. They do. I'm sorry. I just don't understand why you're so determined to take it all on yourself. Or why you think you're not supposed to feel just as much as the rest of us. It's just like you always tell me--I can't help if I don't know enough, right? And don't tell me I shouldn't be trying to help you, I'm doing it anyway, and you can't stop me."
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Knowing that Felix isn't ready to storm out with the next miscalculated thing he says...it makes him more willing to risk trying again.
"I'm not trying to take it all on," he murmurs. "Just...the same amount I always have. I can't just...suddenly stop helping you guys because I let myself fall apart. If you guys need my support, then I don't have that luxury. And if you're fine without it, like it makes no difference if I suddenly stop helping...then what was my help ever worth?" He exhales. "But - I know that's not the case. You guys have said I've helped, and I thought I had. So you can't tell me it's going to be fine if I just suddenly turn useless right when things are extra hard for everyone. I know that's not true."
He hesitates for a moment before he speaks. "As for why I'm not supposed to feel as much as the rest of you...it's because I'm Almyran. Even this much back home - I'd look pathetic. It wouldn't just make my people think less of me, it'd make me look like a weak and unfit king. It'd undermine my authority. It'd make me look more like a poor excuse of an Almyran than I already do to them, because Almyrans aren't like this. This wouldn't even slow down a real Almyran. And I can't afford to be...not Almyran enough. Not even just for appearances, or being able to feel like like I actually belong in the country I was born in, but because it just gives ammunition to the people who want to kill and supplant me as king. Which is a lot of Almyrans still. The weaker I look, the more danger I'm in. And I know I'm not in Almyra now, but - it's always with me. And even if it wasn't, I'm never going to live up to their standards if I just accept falling short of them because no Almyran is watching."
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He hopes that makes sense. He's no architect, but it seems right to him.
But the rest...he falls silent until Claude is finished. Then, quietly, "...oh. You're training." It is a matter of life and death, just as much as it is for Felix on the training grounds. "I know it's not the same, but in our own ways, Dimitri and Sylvain and Ingrid and I have all felt that we weren't what Faerghus wanted us to be, either. But even Dimitri doesn't have to put up with the kind of pressure you describe."
His brow furrows. "But you can't erase how you feel. I know; I've tried. You've seen firsthand how well that's worked. I know you want to do something to help Sylvain and you can't, so you're trying to do something to help us instead. You've been through the same battlefield first aid training as I have--you know that you can't treat someone else's wounds until you stop yourself from bleeding out. All I'm asking you to do is figure out how to stop your own bleeding before you worry about ours, even if it's just for tonight."
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He heaves another, deeper sigh. "But even if you guys can pick up my slack, and it's okay as far as that goes...I don't know how not to feel useless because of it. And I can't not know how many people would look at it, either - how short I'm falling. Even if I let myself fall apart, or just worry about myself first...I don't think I can not feel worthless if I do. So it just feels like...I'm just choosing what way I want to bleed, not that there's an option that'll help me stop I should be choosing."
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Felix nods. "You're right. You will feel useless. So do I. If there were some way to avoid it, I'd have found it a long time ago. There isn't, so...we'll just have to feel useless together, until we get over it. Keep ourselves occupied." He rests his head against Claude's. "Sleep helps. ...I can stay here. If you want."
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He closes his eyes again when Felix rests their heads together. "No...I know you want to be with Sylvain. And he should have someone with him, even if there's no chance he's going to wake up this soon. I don't like the thought of just...leaving him alone. I'll come with you."
He's still not sure he'll be able to keep it together, seeing the upsetting unresponsiveness of Sylvain up close again. It's impossible not to desperately miss him when he's both right there and a million miles away. But...things being better between him and Felix makes Claude feel a little more up to trying. And whether or not he can...realizing how much it means to him for someone to be with Sylvain, keeping him company, feels like it's rearranged his priorities a little. That's more important to him than how he personally feels, or even what anyone in Almyra thinks of him. He wouldn't let any Almyran's opinion - or the opinions of everyone in Almyra - dictate what he did or how he treated Sylvain while the man was conscious; why should now be different?
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Felix lifts his head and blinks. "...all right. Thank you. I'd prefer to be there with Inda, as well." He finally releases Claude and stands, offering him a hand.
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He takes Felix's hand, rising to his feet. "I should go let Dimitri and Grant know that I'm feeling better. Give me a sec?"
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He squeezes Claude's hand lightly. "All right. I'll wait--" In the other room, is what he was going to say, but maybe it's better if he and Claude go back into that room together. Besides, if Dimitri and Grant are still loitering out in the hall, Felix doesn't really want to have to talk to them. "--here."
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Then Claude slips out of the room, and Felix will hear faint murmuring just outside the door. However, he won't get long to pay attention to that (or consider eavesdropping) before he's distracted.
Arbiter, who's been looming large but silent this whole time, shifts in order to lean down, lightly resting his beak on Felix's shoulder. A red eye - eternally baleful by the nature of Corviknights, but somehow calm for now - blinks slowly at Felix, before Arbiter's head lifts again.
There's something...strangely formal about the gesture, somehow. It's almost reminiscent of the flat of a sword being laid atop one's shoulder in recognition of some great deed. It certainly seems to be some kind of odd gesture of benediction from one of Claude's most notoriously protective, judgmental pokémon.
Felix will notice, in fact, that most of Claude's pokémon are currently regarding him. (Not, perhaps, too surprising, as with Claude's absence there's not a whole lot else to pay attention to in the room besides each other, but it might make Felix a little awkward. But there's a definite air of approval. In fact, Sturm beams and actually claps his hands in obvious indication of his happiness. Clearly, Claude's fussing team are happy that Felix has helped Claude out of his funk.
Nowhere is this more evident than in Jadoube the Zoroark, who has some interesting options for showing her approval. She shakes herself off and straightens up...and then, with a shimmer of illusion, she takes on the appearance of Claude himself. And (s)he gives Felix a thumbs up. "You did great!" she says, in Claude's own voice.
There's a certain tone to that praise, interestingly - Felix, having grown so familiar with Claude, might recognize it. It's got that fond, almost paternal tone Claude gets when he's talking to his pokémon, not to another person. Jadoube may well be parroting what Claude tells them when they've done well, in order to communicate the same to Felix.
This friendly (if faintly disturbing) message imparted, the illusion fades and Jadoube is simply a Zoroark again.
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He startles when an enormous beak comes down to rest on his shoulder. He turns with wide eyes to see Arbiter looking back at him in approval. "Oh. You're...welcome?" The gesture is an abrupt reminder that these Pokemon were here to witness that entire conversation, have been watching him and listening this whole time. If he thinks about it too much, he'll feel humiliated, so instead he turns his attention to the fact that he's now the center of their attention.
"What?" He can't help backing away a little toward the door at their staring, despite the fact that they're obviously the opposite of upset with him. There's a reason he put all of his and Sylvain's Pokemon other than Inda in their balls today, even Varley. He didn't want to feel watched in his raw, pathetic state. "I caused the problem in the first place, I was just...rectifying it. That's all."
Then the Zoroark moves, and Felix stares as she...turns into Claude and uses his voice. What the fuck? What the fuck.
"Uh...thanks. Don't ever do that again. ...I have to go."
Sure, he said he'd wait here, but he didn't say he'd necessarily stay on this side of the door. He hopes Claude is almost finished with his talk, because he's absolutely going out into the hall now.
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Claude, meanwhile, looks up in slight surprise when Felix pops out of his room. "Hey - was I taking that long?" His assumption is that Felix got impatient, and that's why he ducked out rather than waiting any longer.
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A good place to end it, I think, unless Felix has a closing comment to make