He is indeed surprised, but also pleased with himself in the midst of said surprise. He did a good twice in a row. "I just think chocolate is better than plain sugar. Um, thank you."
He pauses and sighs. Right. More business. "I already kind of told him part of it was shitty, because he knows I'm afraid of being trapped. More than afraid of it. So I asked him if that's what he was trying to do, and he said yes and tried to make excuses, and I made him answer the question of what I'm most afraid of other than-- than the Dark World, and when he finally did I asked him how I could even pretend he was there for me and John when he started with that."
And then other discussions happened, but those are not as relevant to this.
"And the conversation kind of got broken off, but I thought about it more, and..."
He sighs through his nose. "I want to talk to him about what he was actually doing, because I think he thinks he was investigating and he wasn't."
"You're right," she agrees as she walks over with the cup of hot mocha with little marshmallows. Just pour that coffee into the cocoa mix and go. Tiny bit of milk to round it out. She puts it down on the coaster in front of him.
"He was 'protecting' John. And 'protecting' can get" her eyes are somewhere else for a moment, someone else, "pretty dark, when someone feels like someone they love is slipping through their grasp."
She sits down with her own coffee.
"If you heard the quote marks, that's because it's not that either. It's an attempt to regain control of a situation so nothing gets worse. It's a defense mechanism, and I'm not at all surprised."
That makes sense. It felt like that, like something that-ish. He nods slowly, tweaking the heat in his mug as he picks it up, and then shifts so he can cross his legs on the chair.
"Anyway, I was pretty nasty about pointing out the trapping part, and I don't actually feel sorry about that, but I'm not ready to talk to him about everything else yet, and how much it... how much it hurt that he would do that when he knows how hard I worked to trust him in the first place. I need to figure out how to say it so he won't just decide it means he's terrible."
She watches him adjust and smiles a little. The kid's adorable, and he feels such a fondness in her chest every time she watches him do all the little things kids do. The urge to ruffle his hair and hug him is high.
"Anyone ever introduce you to the concept of an 'I Statement'?"
"It's a format for communicating difficult things to someone when you're trying to explain your perspective clearly without assigning blame, activating defensiveness, or sounding threatening."
She pulls out a notebook and she'll write down the format there for him:
When you _________ their action____________
I feel or think _________your feeling_________
Because ______why it made you feel that way________
I would prefer _________your preference_____________.
She pushes the notebook over to him and points to the spot just below.
Oh, it's a formula. He brightens, fascinated, and reads it over. Reads it over again, a frown teasing across his face. And then he starts scribbling away, though he gets hung up on the 'I would prefer.'
"...I'm going to change it a little."
He pauses after the last sentence, rereads, and then offers it to Saga.
When you tried to trick me into somewhere I couldn't escape, I was scared at first, and then after that it hurt. It's hard for me to trust people. I want to talk to you about that, but I want you to know I still care about love you and I want to talk because I want to trust you and I don't think you want to hurt me.
She'll look it over, then make a couple of tweaks.
When you tried to trick me into somewhere I couldn't escape, I was scared at first, and then after that it hurt.because it's hard for me to trust people. I want to talk to you about that,butbecause I want you to know I love you and I want to talk because I want to trust you and I want you to know I don't think you want to hurt me.
Better for what he told Saga he wants to do. Better for what he does want to do. But he's suddenly encountering a part of himself that doesn't want to do this at all.
"I'm his friend. My brother is his other half. And he wanted to hurt me. Not... not do anything to me, like hit me, I don't mean that, but he knows. He knows how-- I learned what a panic attack was because the first time I had one I was with Arthur, and it was about being trapped."
He slaps the pad of paper onto the table and tries to center himself with a drink of his mocha.
Quieter, he adds, "He fucking knows. And I think he wanted to use it."
She can't help half a smile as she watches him enjoy.
"'Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.'" She sips her own coffee. "It's an adage I try to live by, because more often than not, it saves a lot of heartache."
She turns her hand to Edwin.
"You have every right to be mad at him, because what he did was shitty, like you said. But I think you'll be hurting both of you more if you assume that he was trying to hurt you. Or that he doesn't care about you."
Sip.
"I can't say for certain, but I think it's likely that he panicked over whatever you did to John, and since he couldn't fix it, but he needed to do something, he tried to control the situation by 'fixing' things on your side, and he couldn't see the harm he was doing to you or allow for your right to decide things for yourself while he was panicked."
A pause.
"...and the accent and his poise makes it sound like he's not being a freaked out dumbass when yeah, he's still being a freaked out dumbass."
"Oh no. I didn't say he wasn't being cunning. He did some underhanded shit, and I'm going to have a talk with him about it separately."
She looks to Edwin.
"Nothing I said makes what he did any less harmful. Or your anger any less deserved." She makes sure she has his eye. "I'm glad you stood up for yourself and told him what he was doing was wrong."
As always in moments like these, he makes a study of her expression, looking for similarities to others and patterns to use with people later. It helps that he's met enough people by now to have more of a cross-comparison mental database to pull from.
"I... am too." He says it experimentally, trying to see if the words still feel true out loud. "I wasn't... nice about it. Maybe I'll feel bad about that part later, but... I really... I don't think I can be kind about any of it yet."
"So there's sports where you play as a team, but only one person is 'playing' at a time. When the first person feels like they're not up to dealing with something, or they need a break, or the opponent they're up against is getting the better of them, they can 'tag in' their partner to take over the competition."
She sips her coffee.
"In this case, we're both trying to make sure that Arthur realizes the problem with what he did, but that he does so in a constructive way. If you can't be constructive, you can tag me in to handle it until you're ready to tackle it."
There's a distinct and heavy relief from Edwin. He bunches his sweater cuff around his fingers so he can rub his face with something that feels nice instead of his hand again.
"I think I need to tag you in. Because--" He stares into his mocha, something lead and guilty sliding from his chest into the region of the stomach. "Because I'm angry, but I'm... also... scared."
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"You can, in fact. And you, kiddo, have discovered the wonder that we call 'the mocha': the combination of chocolate and coffee."
She'll pull out the little cocoa packet.
"Coming right up."
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He pauses and sighs. Right. More business. "I already kind of told him part of it was shitty, because he knows I'm afraid of being trapped. More than afraid of it. So I asked him if that's what he was trying to do, and he said yes and tried to make excuses, and I made him answer the question of what I'm most afraid of other than-- than the Dark World, and when he finally did I asked him how I could even pretend he was there for me and John when he started with that."
And then other discussions happened, but those are not as relevant to this.
"And the conversation kind of got broken off, but I thought about it more, and..."
He sighs through his nose. "I want to talk to him about what he was actually doing, because I think he thinks he was investigating and he wasn't."
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"He was 'protecting' John. And 'protecting' can get" her eyes are somewhere else for a moment, someone else, "pretty dark, when someone feels like someone they love is slipping through their grasp."
She sits down with her own coffee.
"If you heard the quote marks, that's because it's not that either. It's an attempt to regain control of a situation so nothing gets worse. It's a defense mechanism, and I'm not at all surprised."
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"Anyway, I was pretty nasty about pointing out the trapping part, and I don't actually feel sorry about that, but I'm not ready to talk to him about everything else yet, and how much it... how much it hurt that he would do that when he knows how hard I worked to trust him in the first place. I need to figure out how to say it so he won't just decide it means he's terrible."
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"Anyone ever introduce you to the concept of an 'I Statement'?"
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She pulls out a notebook and she'll write down the format there for him:
When you _________ their action____________
I feel or think _________your feeling_________
Because ______why it made you feel that way________
I would prefer _________your preference_____________.
She pushes the notebook over to him and points to the spot just below.
"Give it a shot."
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"...I'm going to change it a little."
He pauses after the last sentence, rereads, and then offers it to Saga.
When you tried to trick me into somewhere I couldn't escape, I was scared at first, and then after that it hurt. It's hard for me to trust people. I want to talk to you about that, but I want you to know I
still care aboutlove you and I want to talk because I want to trust you and I don't think you want to hurt me.no subject
When you tried to trick me into somewhere I couldn't escape, I was scared at first, and then after that it hurt
.because it's hard for me to trust people. I want to talk to you about that,butbecause I want you to know I love you andI want to talk becauseI want to trust you and I want you to know I don't think you want to hurt me."How's that fit?"
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"This is better."
Better for what he told Saga he wants to do. Better for what he does want to do. But he's suddenly encountering a part of himself that doesn't want to do this at all.
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"Something the matter?"
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There should not be a 'but' there. John wouldn't have a but there.
"I--"
Another pause.
"I'm angry."
And it's a kind of anger so specific he's never encountered it before.
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First questions first.
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He slaps the pad of paper onto the table and tries to center himself with a drink of his mocha.
Quieter, he adds, "He fucking knows. And I think he wanted to use it."
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"Have you ever heard of something called Hanlon's razor?"
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"'Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.'" She sips her own coffee. "It's an adage I try to live by, because more often than not, it saves a lot of heartache."
She turns her hand to Edwin.
"You have every right to be mad at him, because what he did was shitty, like you said. But I think you'll be hurting both of you more if you assume that he was trying to hurt you. Or that he doesn't care about you."
Sip.
"I can't say for certain, but I think it's likely that he panicked over whatever you did to John, and since he couldn't fix it, but he needed to do something, he tried to control the situation by 'fixing' things on your side, and he couldn't see the harm he was doing to you or allow for your right to decide things for yourself while he was panicked."
A pause.
"...and the accent and his poise makes it sound like he's not being a freaked out dumbass when yeah, he's still being a freaked out dumbass."
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"So either he was trying to use it, or he just forgot the thing that scares me most in the fucking world."
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"Oh no. I didn't say he wasn't being cunning. He did some underhanded shit, and I'm going to have a talk with him about it separately."
She looks to Edwin.
"Nothing I said makes what he did any less harmful. Or your anger any less deserved." She makes sure she has his eye. "I'm glad you stood up for yourself and told him what he was doing was wrong."
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"I... am too." He says it experimentally, trying to see if the words still feel true out loud. "I wasn't... nice about it. Maybe I'll feel bad about that part later, but... I really... I don't think I can be kind about any of it yet."
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"If you need to tag me in for this, this is part of my duties: as his warden and as your..." she grins a little "can I say 'your friend'?"
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Unequivocally.
Side note-- "Tag you in?"
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"So there's sports where you play as a team, but only one person is 'playing' at a time. When the first person feels like they're not up to dealing with something, or they need a break, or the opponent they're up against is getting the better of them, they can 'tag in' their partner to take over the competition."
She sips her coffee.
"In this case, we're both trying to make sure that Arthur realizes the problem with what he did, but that he does so in a constructive way. If you can't be constructive, you can tag me in to handle it until you're ready to tackle it."
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"I think I need to tag you in. Because--" He stares into his mocha, something lead and guilty sliding from his chest into the region of the stomach. "Because I'm angry, but I'm... also... scared."
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