04-08-2014, 03:35 PM
Aria had been listening to his words- his demands- and was very still, almost as if she had been bracing herself against his verbal blows. Now that he was sitting down, she seemed to gather herself. She stood up and looked at him with- he didn't know, anger, pain, defiance- whatever it was, she looked him in the eye and seemed to hurl his demand off her. "We do not have the right.
"
The open admission affected him. She didn't justify herself or the group she belonged to. She agreed with him. She went on, "But that doesn't stop them. They are dangerous. We are afraid of the past. The gods ripped apart the world. It is our duty to defend those who cannot defend themselves from those that wield the power of the gods.
"
Aria turned to Jensen, "We are the Atharim. It is our heritage, the remnant of the remnant to know and protect against the return of the gods. We protect the innocent.
" She sank to her chair and added weakly. "And yet here I am, letting not one, but two of you live. For the third time since I came to this God forsaken city.
"
He only vaguely heard those words. Stuff was going on all around him- a buzz, movement, Jensen saying something to Giovanni- but he only kept seeing Hayden's face. Hayden had been a good kid, never hurting anyone. He was going to be a good man. Power wasn't going to change that for him. And yet this group- not Aria, he accepted that. She had refused to participate- would have snuffed out his life like that.
For the first time, Connor felt powerfully glad that they had kept Hayden home. And now Aria and Giovanni's words truly hit home for him and he loved them for it. Hayden had died with his father and mother around him. He hadn't been taken, to be poked and prodded by strangers, alone and scared; nor to be put down quickly and quietly. He had died knowing he was loved. Those lucid moments he had where they had expressed their love for him, those cherished moments holding his son's hand, of watching him when he was asleep. They could have been taken from him. He could have missed out on that. Hayden's death was a meaningless senseless thing...but it could have been so much worse. He wanted to call Jaime, to tell her that she had saved him, that they had saved Hayden from so much. He needed to tell her, to give her peace.
As painful as those memories were, he could now see those moments differently. It was like the universe had changed in an instant. Given the choice to watch his son die like that- to bear that memory and pain with him for the rest of his life- or to have had Hayden taken from him in some suspicious accident....well he'd pay that price happily over and over. It was a sacrifice he'd make again and again, a gift he'd give his son always.
He felt deeply thankful for those moments, for that time together. He felt something break inside, the anger and resentment and guilt gave way to sadness. He missed his son so much. But it was mingled with gratitude, with appreciation. How could he feel appreciative to God or the universe or fate for giving him that time with his son, as painful as it was, when it had also given him that "gift"?
But emotions aren't logical. He put his head down and cried, deep quiet sobs from the depths of his heart, feeling the loss of his son, but also the appreciation for those moments. He cried and cried, feeling like he was purging himself. It seemed like hours, but could have been minutes- time had no meaning anymore to him. After a while, he quieted, the wash of emotion sort of drifting away. He felt a sense of peace, of quiet. He missed his son. He always would. His son would always be a missing part of his life. But he had been given so much to hold on to, so many memories, knowing he had made a difference to him, that he hadn't failed his son. The absurdity of it all, to view it as a gift. But it was a gift nonetheless. It was a way to live with himself.
Somehow, he felt like he could live again. A part of him felt a stab of guilt at that. But the peace he had felt drifted in again, letting him know it was ok. It was ok to feel those things- the anger and guilt and sorrow. They were feelings and he owned them, even when they were momentary. But the underlying peace would be there too.
He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, seeing only blurry shapes at first. He wiped his eyes and said "I'm sorry. It's been such a night.
" And then he fell silent, just looking at everyone. For the first time, he felt at peace.
Edited by Connor Kent, Apr 8 2014, 07:36 PM.
"
The open admission affected him. She didn't justify herself or the group she belonged to. She agreed with him. She went on, "But that doesn't stop them. They are dangerous. We are afraid of the past. The gods ripped apart the world. It is our duty to defend those who cannot defend themselves from those that wield the power of the gods.
"
Aria turned to Jensen, "We are the Atharim. It is our heritage, the remnant of the remnant to know and protect against the return of the gods. We protect the innocent.
" She sank to her chair and added weakly. "And yet here I am, letting not one, but two of you live. For the third time since I came to this God forsaken city.
"
He only vaguely heard those words. Stuff was going on all around him- a buzz, movement, Jensen saying something to Giovanni- but he only kept seeing Hayden's face. Hayden had been a good kid, never hurting anyone. He was going to be a good man. Power wasn't going to change that for him. And yet this group- not Aria, he accepted that. She had refused to participate- would have snuffed out his life like that.
For the first time, Connor felt powerfully glad that they had kept Hayden home. And now Aria and Giovanni's words truly hit home for him and he loved them for it. Hayden had died with his father and mother around him. He hadn't been taken, to be poked and prodded by strangers, alone and scared; nor to be put down quickly and quietly. He had died knowing he was loved. Those lucid moments he had where they had expressed their love for him, those cherished moments holding his son's hand, of watching him when he was asleep. They could have been taken from him. He could have missed out on that. Hayden's death was a meaningless senseless thing...but it could have been so much worse. He wanted to call Jaime, to tell her that she had saved him, that they had saved Hayden from so much. He needed to tell her, to give her peace.
As painful as those memories were, he could now see those moments differently. It was like the universe had changed in an instant. Given the choice to watch his son die like that- to bear that memory and pain with him for the rest of his life- or to have had Hayden taken from him in some suspicious accident....well he'd pay that price happily over and over. It was a sacrifice he'd make again and again, a gift he'd give his son always.
He felt deeply thankful for those moments, for that time together. He felt something break inside, the anger and resentment and guilt gave way to sadness. He missed his son so much. But it was mingled with gratitude, with appreciation. How could he feel appreciative to God or the universe or fate for giving him that time with his son, as painful as it was, when it had also given him that "gift"?
But emotions aren't logical. He put his head down and cried, deep quiet sobs from the depths of his heart, feeling the loss of his son, but also the appreciation for those moments. He cried and cried, feeling like he was purging himself. It seemed like hours, but could have been minutes- time had no meaning anymore to him. After a while, he quieted, the wash of emotion sort of drifting away. He felt a sense of peace, of quiet. He missed his son. He always would. His son would always be a missing part of his life. But he had been given so much to hold on to, so many memories, knowing he had made a difference to him, that he hadn't failed his son. The absurdity of it all, to view it as a gift. But it was a gift nonetheless. It was a way to live with himself.
Somehow, he felt like he could live again. A part of him felt a stab of guilt at that. But the peace he had felt drifted in again, letting him know it was ok. It was ok to feel those things- the anger and guilt and sorrow. They were feelings and he owned them, even when they were momentary. But the underlying peace would be there too.
He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, seeing only blurry shapes at first. He wiped his eyes and said "I'm sorry. It's been such a night.
" And then he fell silent, just looking at everyone. For the first time, he felt at peace.
Edited by Connor Kent, Apr 8 2014, 07:36 PM.