dissonates | [Locked to Guy]

[Asch crosses his arms and waits for the next round of bullshit. At the very least he wants an answer.]

[Guy's quiet for a while, but he does eventually speak.]

The Score wasn't absolute; it was one path of many. But even with infinite paths we can take, they still exist, somewhere in the memory particles of Auldrant. We still have predestined lots in life...even if we don't know what they are.

Your lot in life...was to die in Eldrant. Luke's was to sacrifice himself. Mine is to lose people, and to keep going on. And I've accepted it; if I end up losing you to something other than death, so be it. That's just how it is.

My lot in life!? [Okay Guy, you're getting a taste of rage now. Asch grabs him by the collar, yanking him closer.] What the hell kind of attitude is that!? Aren't you the one who told me not to give up, not to be such a defeatist about it? Why are you just giving up!?

[Guy glares, and grabs Asch's wrists to try and wrench his hands from his collar.]

Keep your voice down or Natalia'll hear us.

[Like hell. Those hands aren't moving. And he's not even listening because Guy is just ignoring the issue again.]

When I found out I was going to die, I looked for answers. I looked for ways to stop it, even just to slow it down. When I didn't find anything, I didn't just lie down and take it - I kept fighting with every damn breath I had! When I dedicate myself to something I don't let anything stop me. Considering how angry you got whenever I so much as hinted that I was giving up, I expected nothing less from you.

[And he's... really disappointed to find that isn't the case.]

That's different.

It's not. [Asch grits his teeth and shoves Guy away, trembling with rage.] It's not different at all. That's what you don't understand.

[Guy's boot scrapes across the shingles as he catches himself, and straightens his collar. He doesn't look at Asch.]

[Asch watches him for a long moment, breathing deeply and forcing himself to calm down. Finally he stands up, looking ahead instead of at Guy.]

I'm not like you - I can't look at it the way you can. There's no room for logic in my emotions, no discussions on 'what if' or 'when'. I feel whatever I feel, and deal with problems as they come. And looking at us now, I'm glad of that.

[Guy glances at Asch briefly before turning away again, reaching up to rub his shoulder uncomfortably.

In that one glance, though, if Asch was paying attention he might have spotted something; a hint of longing, fear, maybe even loneliness. Maybe even a glint of something resembling Guy's expression when Asch had been returned to him in bloody ribbons just a few months before.

As quickly as it showed it was put away, and Guy sighed and waved a hand.] Fine, fine. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to treat this so casually.

[Thank god for peripheral. Asch glances sidelong at him as he speaks, expression a mixture of wariness and pain. It takes him a while to respond.]

You can be honest with me. If you're afraid of losing this, losing me, you can tell me. You don't have to be infallible.

I'm not trying to be infallible.

Yes you are. You always want to be the one people can trust, the one everyone can rely on. The strong person who never needs help, because you think you've been through enough to know better. But you're not, Guy. You're not some perfect therapist. [He closes his eyes, then looks over to meet Guy's eyes steadily.] You're just as screwed up as the rest of us.

[Guy glares back for a second. This conversation isn't spot on, but it's way too close for comfort.] You think I don't know that?

[Asch shrugs a little.] I wonder if you forget sometimes. Or you pretend that you do.

[Saying "you don't understand me," would probably be childish borderlining on infantile, so Guy swallows the urge to do so and just looks away.]

[Asch stands quietly for a moment, then looks away, lips pursing.] I know you don't like what I'm saying, so I have this to say, and then I'll go: you can spend all the time you want preparing for the worst, but be careful you don't sacrifice what you're worried about losing even sooner.

[Guy is silent for a good long while, probably long enough for Asch to assume the conversation is concluded and begin to climb his way down.

Then he mumbles something.]

[Asch had in fact started heading down again; at the sound, though, he stops, but he doesn't turn back.]

...What?

I don't.

...want to even consider it. Ever.

[That makes Asch turn back, brows lifting slightly. He waits, uncertain.]

[Guy just draws up his knees, bowing his head.]

...sorry.

[...Sigh. The whole situation is so... so stupid. Asch finally moves back, sitting down beside Guy once more, leaning shoulder to shoulder with him.] ...Idiot.

[Guy snorts, but leans against him in response.]

I am. Out of all the people here, you'd probably get it.

[He winds an arm around Guy's shoulders, tugging him a bit closer.]

I've had enough lectures about my own idiocy. Stupid Fabre genes. Maybe they're contagious.

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