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[deuceoftears]

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[deuceoftears]

He felt it, though.

[howtheyshine]

[All at once he's reminded of what Arthur said to him just before he was--banished? Sent here? Brought here? About the murder he committed, about how much he liked it. The enjoyment he had. How revolted Yellow had been then. How horrifying the thought of reliving that death over and over as Arthur--

No.]

I didn't want him to die. I wanted him to suffer.

[deuceoftears]

Well, he died and suffered.

So now what?

lmf i'm so sorry for him

[howtheyshine]

[A longish silence.

A furious growl.

Annnnd he hangs up.]

BABY!!! baby baby. squishy golden baby. you are my sunshine

[deuceoftears]

Thank you for wanting to warn me. That was kind of you, even if I'm too stupid to listen.

[howtheyshine]

You're not supposed to call again when I hang up.

[THAT IS NOT HOW IT WORKS IN THE MOVIES HE'S WATCHED OVER THE LAST WEEK OKAY.]

[deuceoftears]

I'm sorry.

[So contrite!!!!]

I just thought I ought to acknowledge it.

[howtheyshine]

I didn't want to warn you. [SULLEN.] I don't care if you know.

[deuceoftears]

What do you want, then?

[howtheyshine]

I don't want anything!

[deuceoftears]

Do you want to hurt Arthur more?

[howtheyshine]

I want him to-- [The words are snapped out, and then he stops, because he doesn't know. He doesn't know what he wants. But the formless rage keeps pressing against a wall of things he can't name.] Forget it.

[deuceoftears]

You want to know something awful?

[howtheyshine]

...Maybe. [It's curiosity more than the desire to know something awful.]

[deuceoftears]

There's no amount of hurting people that unhurts you. It's absolutely terrible.

Some people like it, but that's a separate thing, it still doesn't fix what happened.

Do you want him to be sorry? Do you want him to understand?

[howtheyshine]

I want him to pay. I want him to know, I want...

[ He wants Arthur to recite more poetry in that soft cadence of his, the quiet power and finality in words known by heart. He wants to learn the defiance he felt rise like sweet bile when Arthur was afraid. He wants to hear Arthur laugh like the way dust dances in the sunlight. He wants the first person he ever knew to want to know him as much.]

I hate him.

[deuceoftears]

That's fair.

[Arthur had been hateful to Yellow, after all. Jedao's voice is quiet, melancholy with understanding. He misses the first person he ever knew, too. He wishes that man had been - different.]

You can hate him. You can make him pay, a little.

But if you keep hurting him - if you can't let it be enough, that he's paid with one miserable, terrified death - then you're just going to be stuck in the feeling of how much you hate him all the time.

And I think you deserve to feel lots of other things.

[howtheyshine]

I don't want to. [That's hissed low and--under the snarl, under the scorn--fearful.]

[deuceoftears]

Why not?

[howtheyshine]

[ There are too many of them. Too many feelings, too many layers to it all, too much. Even if some of them are good feelings, even if some of the layers are wonder and warmth and curiosity and delight. ]

Because I don't want to.

[deuceoftears]

Well, you don't have to. But I still can't let you kill people just because you hate them.

What other feelings have you tried?

[howtheyshine]

...How am I supposed to know that?

[deuceoftears]

Which part?

[howtheyshine]

What emotions I've tried. I don't know. They just happen.

[deuceoftears]

Well, you could tell me a little bit about what some of them were like, and I could help you try to find words for them?