[It's not like Diego was unaware of the tumultuous, insane mess his life has been for the last couple months. But there is knowing something, or a lot of somethings, an entire life-story-chapter's worth of things...
And then there is hearing it all itemized and listed out, like a goddamn itinerary.
Every single point Ben makes is like another twist of a knife between his ribs. One thing after another after another, over and over and over, in a never-ending cascade of things that just keep happening. Hargreeves never really have been the sorts that catch breaks often, have they?
He sits quietly as Ben makes his way through his list. Tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. He hates that he's right. He hates more that they both know he's right. He tenses the most obviously and visibly at the mention of Patch, and Mom.
The silence draws for several long minutes when Ben is done. Diego can see his brother giving him that pointed look from the edges of his vision, but his own eyes are focused on his hands in his lap. He doesn't know what to say, or how to say it at all, but Ben's right. It's not one little thing, or even just a couple of things. It's so much and it's all at once and it's a never-ending pile on. Who could sleep with that much on their minds?
But there is one thing in that giant list of his that sticks out more than the rest. Is more immediate and in his face than all of the rest of it. He licks his lips and bites the lower one for a moment before finally, quietly, admitting: ]
She's here, Ben... Patch is here and I don't know how to look at her and not see her, dead on that motel room floor. [Finally, he looks up.] I talked to her... but not like... really talk, just... bullshit. And she was following one of the weird ghost things? Trying to find something out from her, I just followed her but...
[He pauses as something occurs to him, shaking his head a little.] God, I'm sorry, Ben, I shouldn't... [He presses his palms against eyes. Was it even fair to push this conversation on Ben? When he was newly-alive again, too.]
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And then there is hearing it all itemized and listed out, like a goddamn itinerary.
Every single point Ben makes is like another twist of a knife between his ribs. One thing after another after another, over and over and over, in a never-ending cascade of things that just keep happening. Hargreeves never really have been the sorts that catch breaks often, have they?
He sits quietly as Ben makes his way through his list. Tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. He hates that he's right. He hates more that they both know he's right. He tenses the most obviously and visibly at the mention of Patch, and Mom.
The silence draws for several long minutes when Ben is done. Diego can see his brother giving him that pointed look from the edges of his vision, but his own eyes are focused on his hands in his lap. He doesn't know what to say, or how to say it at all, but Ben's right. It's not one little thing, or even just a couple of things. It's so much and it's all at once and it's a never-ending pile on. Who could sleep with that much on their minds?
But there is one thing in that giant list of his that sticks out more than the rest. Is more immediate and in his face than all of the rest of it. He licks his lips and bites the lower one for a moment before finally, quietly, admitting: ]
She's here, Ben... Patch is here and I don't know how to look at her and not see her, dead on that motel room floor. [Finally, he looks up.] I talked to her... but not like... really talk, just... bullshit. And she was following one of the weird ghost things? Trying to find something out from her, I just followed her but...
[He pauses as something occurs to him, shaking his head a little.] God, I'm sorry, Ben, I shouldn't... [He presses his palms against eyes. Was it even fair to push this conversation on Ben? When he was newly-alive again, too.]