Things click a little, when Amos says that. 'He's me.' But not in a way that lends any real relief -- the clarity given by those words just makes him feel like he's standing at the edge of a cliff, a terrible ache sitting heavy in his guts. Gen knows that something warped Amos when he was very young, after all. And that child, the version of Amos still hunched over watery-eyed and pale before them is so young, and so terribly scared.
His instincts scream that he doesn't want to know what caused that fear.
But simply looking away and turning a blind eye isn't an option right now, is it? Because they need to figure out what's going on here in order to get out of this predicament. But even more importantly -- because he's all too aware of how ragged Amos' breaths sound from behind him. (He gets it. He does. He can't even imagine how he'd feel if he were to run into a younger version of himself.) He needs to be the one to deal with this situation, doesn't he? ]
... hey. [ Being kind, being gentle -- those aren't things that come easily to him. His father had made sure to shake any such 'softness' out of him from as far back as he can remember. But at least he can try -- his tone of voice is just a little lower, softer when he speaks towards that young version of Amos once more. ] Look here.
[ Gen waits until he's sure the kid's attention is on him, then taps his shoe against the line of bricks right before him. ]
See this line? I won't cross it unless you ask me to. [ And from right where he's standing, the kid's well out of his reach. A pause before he sighs -- remembering an ashtray -- and raises his hand to show his empty palms. ] And I don't have anything to throw at you. ... I'm not looking to hurt you.
[ To further emphasize his point, he huffs a quiet exhale, then slowly takes a seat on the ground, cross-legged with his hands resting against his knees. His gaze remains hard and focused, but at least he poses less of a physical threat this way, he's sure; he tries, too, to keep his voice calmer when he asks, ]
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Things click a little, when Amos says that. 'He's me.' But not in a way that lends any real relief -- the clarity given by those words just makes him feel like he's standing at the edge of a cliff, a terrible ache sitting heavy in his guts. Gen knows that something warped Amos when he was very young, after all. And that child, the version of Amos still hunched over watery-eyed and pale before them is so young, and so terribly scared.
His instincts scream that he doesn't want to know what caused that fear.
But simply looking away and turning a blind eye isn't an option right now, is it? Because they need to figure out what's going on here in order to get out of this predicament. But even more importantly -- because he's all too aware of how ragged Amos' breaths sound from behind him. (He gets it. He does. He can't even imagine how he'd feel if he were to run into a younger version of himself.) He needs to be the one to deal with this situation, doesn't he? ]
... hey. [ Being kind, being gentle -- those aren't things that come easily to him. His father had made sure to shake any such 'softness' out of him from as far back as he can remember. But at least he can try -- his tone of voice is just a little lower, softer when he speaks towards that young version of Amos once more. ] Look here.
[ Gen waits until he's sure the kid's attention is on him, then taps his shoe against the line of bricks right before him. ]
See this line? I won't cross it unless you ask me to. [ And from right where he's standing, the kid's well out of his reach. A pause before he sighs -- remembering an ashtray -- and raises his hand to show his empty palms. ] And I don't have anything to throw at you. ... I'm not looking to hurt you.
[ To further emphasize his point, he huffs a quiet exhale, then slowly takes a seat on the ground, cross-legged with his hands resting against his knees. His gaze remains hard and focused, but at least he poses less of a physical threat this way, he's sure; he tries, too, to keep his voice calmer when he asks, ]
What happened here. [ To you. ]