As soon as he hits Barry's chest, his hands fist into his shirt and he tucks his face down, the tears feeling hot in his eyes as his shoulders shake. He's selfish. He's fucking selfish, for screaming at all of them, for shoving them away and then expecting them to comfort him when he's down. When has he ever done anything for them? When has he ever given anything back? He's allowed to be hurt, but--
Well, it's the paradox. He deserves to be who he is, to act as he does, because he's struggled so hard to live and survive. The world owes him. The universe owes him everything. But he doesn't want to give that back. To become that ugliness, to break someone over his knee-- that's not Taako. If they remember it, if something he does crystallizes into horror and trauma and vengeance, he's gone too far.
That look in Barry's eyes, pushing him to walk out, to leave him? He knows where Barry's limits are. And he knows he crossed them.
His voice feels rough and wet, throat scratchy and pained, but he's still talking as he gulps for air.]
I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I don't know what to fucking do, I don't want to forget, I don't want to be alone again.
[Ironically, he doesn't remember if he's ever broken down like this on Barry. Everything feels like a blur, from having a family to nothing to everything all at once. There's still that well of shame, the anxiety of vulnerability, but he can't bring himself to let go.
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As soon as he hits Barry's chest, his hands fist into his shirt and he tucks his face down, the tears feeling hot in his eyes as his shoulders shake. He's selfish. He's fucking selfish, for screaming at all of them, for shoving them away and then expecting them to comfort him when he's down. When has he ever done anything for them? When has he ever given anything back? He's allowed to be hurt, but--
Well, it's the paradox. He deserves to be who he is, to act as he does, because he's struggled so hard to live and survive. The world owes him. The universe owes him everything. But he doesn't want to give that back. To become that ugliness, to break someone over his knee-- that's not Taako. If they remember it, if something he does crystallizes into horror and trauma and vengeance, he's gone too far.
That look in Barry's eyes, pushing him to walk out, to leave him? He knows where Barry's limits are. And he knows he crossed them.
His voice feels rough and wet, throat scratchy and pained, but he's still talking as he gulps for air.]
I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I don't know what to fucking do, I don't want to forget, I don't want to be alone again.
[Ironically, he doesn't remember if he's ever broken down like this on Barry. Everything feels like a blur, from having a family to nothing to everything all at once. There's still that well of shame, the anxiety of vulnerability, but he can't bring himself to let go.
He really is sorry. For what it's worth.]