[Barry had been prepared to remain level-headed for once. Where Taako is all caught up in emotions he's buried deep down for months, simmering for so long only to erupt into a violent boil, Barry is supposed to be the voice of reason. The calm, rational voice appealing to logic, penetrating the veil of grief and rage with words of understanding, with examples of flaws in Taako's thinking, with reminders of who they used to be. Who they were for so long. A family.
And they really were a family. Lucretia loves them. She loves them so much, she made the impossible choice to become the villain of their story for a chance to make right what they did wrong. She loves them so much, she wiped away the painful memory of the thousands of lives lost because of them, because she couldn't bear to see them in pain.
Was it the right choice? No. Was it the only choice? No. But it wasn't malicious. It wasn't made easily, flippantly. She'd felt cornered. Desperate. Taako should know all about that.
But this? He can't listen to this with a straight face. He can't listen to Taako, a man he's considered his brother for decades, saying he could've killed the woman they've all considered a sister. Like that's what he wants. Like that's what he thinks is right and just, a fitting punishment for his pain.]
Listen to yourself! Do you hear what you're sayin'?! [Any pretense of calm is gone as Barry strides forward, shouting, grabbing Taako by the shoulders. A desperate part of him wants to shake some sense into him, but he refrains. He just grips him, forcing the elf to look him in the eyes, to see the horror and hurt his words have caused.] You don't say somethin' like that! This isn't you!
[His hands tighten around Taako's arms, shaking with effort, with the overwhelming emotion and awful, shameful memories of his lonely years hiding away flooding back to him. He has to fight to lower his voice.] Do not put words in my mouth, Taako. Don't you think I get it? Don't you think I thought the exact same thing?
[Many times. For years. The memory is sour on his tongue.] Think real hard about what y'just said, Taako.
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[Barry had been prepared to remain level-headed for once. Where Taako is all caught up in emotions he's buried deep down for months, simmering for so long only to erupt into a violent boil, Barry is supposed to be the voice of reason. The calm, rational voice appealing to logic, penetrating the veil of grief and rage with words of understanding, with examples of flaws in Taako's thinking, with reminders of who they used to be. Who they were for so long. A family.
And they really were a family. Lucretia loves them. She loves them so much, she made the impossible choice to become the villain of their story for a chance to make right what they did wrong. She loves them so much, she wiped away the painful memory of the thousands of lives lost because of them, because she couldn't bear to see them in pain.
Was it the right choice? No. Was it the only choice? No. But it wasn't malicious. It wasn't made easily, flippantly. She'd felt cornered. Desperate. Taako should know all about that.
But this? He can't listen to this with a straight face. He can't listen to Taako, a man he's considered his brother for decades, saying he could've killed the woman they've all considered a sister. Like that's what he wants. Like that's what he thinks is right and just, a fitting punishment for his pain.]
Listen to yourself! Do you hear what you're sayin'?! [Any pretense of calm is gone as Barry strides forward, shouting, grabbing Taako by the shoulders. A desperate part of him wants to shake some sense into him, but he refrains. He just grips him, forcing the elf to look him in the eyes, to see the horror and hurt his words have caused.] You don't say somethin' like that! This isn't you!
[His hands tighten around Taako's arms, shaking with effort, with the overwhelming emotion and awful, shameful memories of his lonely years hiding away flooding back to him. He has to fight to lower his voice.] Do not put words in my mouth, Taako. Don't you think I get it? Don't you think I thought the exact same thing?
[Many times. For years. The memory is sour on his tongue.] Think real hard about what y'just said, Taako.