[ Noah looks so low. He's still not looking at Gansey, and if anything, he seems more upset than he was at the beginning of all this. That's not what Gansey wants. He sees this sadness in all of his friends, to an extent. All of them have some level of wanting, of needing, and of not really knowing how to fill that need. It's a feeling that Gansey recognizes in no small part because he feels it himself, and feels it all the time. It's always there.
But he feels it particularly at night, and when he's alone. That's why he can't leave Noah alone, why he can't walk away from any of them.
He doesn't see it as trying to fix them. That word sends a spike of guilt through his chest, and causes an immediate, internal refusal. No, his friends are not broken things that he needs to fix. They've just been hurt. They've been through awful things, and they're not happy anymore, and if Gansey can just find that crucial thing to make them happy, then they'll be all right. They will all be all right. Just like he will be all right when he finds Glendower, and finally understands --
But it's a childish belief, and he knows it even while those thoughts rise to the surface again. There is no easy way to make any of them all right. Noah is standing here as evidence of that. In their own world, Gansey had thought that if he could just bring Noah back, then he'd be okay.
But now he's alive. And he's not okay.That spike of guilt bleeds slowly into some other feeling, less easy to identify and altogether more painful. He hears his own words as if they're said by someone else, much further away. ]
That's just the thing. You don't need fixing.
I just want you to be happy.
[ Stupid, meaningless and childish words. He knows it. He berates himself for it, and he says it anyway. ]
Noah.
[ That's more quiet, and feels more real. For a moment, he searches for other words to follow it, and none of them seem better than what he said before. So in the end, he closes the slight distance between them to pull Noah into his arms - like he did at the door, but more gentle. He wants to comfort, and his words aren't doing it. They're not enough.
For once, perhaps, words just aren't enough at all. ]
no subject
But he feels it particularly at night, and when he's alone. That's why he can't leave Noah alone, why he can't walk away from any of them.
He doesn't see it as trying to fix them. That word sends a spike of guilt through his chest, and causes an immediate, internal refusal. No, his friends are not broken things that he needs to fix. They've just been hurt. They've been through awful things, and they're not happy anymore, and if Gansey can just find that crucial thing to make them happy, then they'll be all right. They will all be all right. Just like he will be all right when he finds Glendower, and finally understands --
But it's a childish belief, and he knows it even while those thoughts rise to the surface again. There is no easy way to make any of them all right. Noah is standing here as evidence of that. In their own world, Gansey had thought that if he could just bring Noah back, then he'd be okay.
But now he's alive. And he's not okay.That spike of guilt bleeds slowly into some other feeling, less easy to identify and altogether more painful. He hears his own words as if they're said by someone else, much further away. ]
That's just the thing. You don't need fixing.
I just want you to be happy.
[ Stupid, meaningless and childish words. He knows it. He berates himself for it, and he says it anyway. ]
Noah.
[ That's more quiet, and feels more real. For a moment, he searches for other words to follow it, and none of them seem better than what he said before. So in the end, he closes the slight distance between them to pull Noah into his arms - like he did at the door, but more gentle. He wants to comfort, and his words aren't doing it. They're not enough.
For once, perhaps, words just aren't enough at all. ]