What sticks out most in Richie's mind about the experience is how it ended. He looked to Seth with a fear unlike any other. In those brief seconds Richie knew what was going to happen and was powerless to stop it. He didn't need to look his brother in the eye to know the truth. They both knew what was coming. One way or another Richie would burn.
He remembers the screaming. Loud cries of agony sounded foreign to his ears. They weren't supposed to belong to him, yet here they were, forced out of lungs that kept filling with smoke. He remembers the smell of his own flesh turned to ash and the rushing sound of flames over his ears.
When Richie emerged again with clothes singed and glasses cracked, it wasn't the present that he remembered. As he struggled to regain consciousness his mind was transported back two decades. Instead of a concrete floor hey lay on a gasoline soaked carpet. He reached for himself as a child. No help came, and the young Richard Gecko simply smiled with a grim satisfaction as he quickly ushered Seth out the door.
Past mixing with present makes Richie's head spin. He finally looks to Seth, needing an answer to a question he hesitates to ask.
A lot of bad has happened over the course of Seth's life. Some of it was caused by him, some of it was done to him, and some of it simply happened around him. Some of it was bad, some of it was worse. But nothing will ever be as awful as standing by and watching his brother burn. Nothing will ever feel as bad as knowing he was the cause of it. Their current fucked up lives lead to him having to set his own damn brother on fire. And there was no real guarantee that it would even work. Because nothing is guaranteed. Not that it ever was. But ever since they found themselves as a part of this new world, all of the rules have changed. It used to be that Seth could just about guarantee the failure or success of most of what he undertook. There was always that margin of error, but he always went in having a pretty good idea of the outcome.
Now every situation feels like 'there's a theory from a book I read once that this thing might work for a situation that sounded sort of like this.' And that's exactly what it felt like when he was standing in front of Richie, ready to set him on fire. It also felt like the only solution. He was already losing his brother, after all.
Seth shakes his head before Richie's question even really registers. It's like something in him wants to be sure that there's no hesitation, because that's just how sure he is of the answer. And yet there are comparisons that can be made between what Richie did to Ray, and what Seth did to Richie. Too many. Seth shakes his head again.
"No. No, fuck that. Just get that shit out of you head, alright? You are not dad."
It's easier said than done. Richie touches his hands to the top of his head, pushing his fingers back into his hair and covering his eyes with the heels of his hands."Then I don't know what the fuck this is." He doesn't mean to lash out at Seth. Feelings of frustration and anger at his lack of defenses in protecting his mind pour from Richie in his abrupt words. Fingers drag down his face before gravity finds his hands again and this time his arms hang limply at his sides.
"I don't know how to keep her out. This isn't just seeing things. Amaru tells me to go and I go. What's going to stop it next time? Are you just going to have to babysit me and light me on fire every other day?" Richie's mind begins to race as he runs through scenario after scenario in his head. "Because I can't do that, brother. It's more a mindfuck than anything Amaru could pull."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He remembers the screaming. Loud cries of agony sounded foreign to his ears. They weren't supposed to belong to him, yet here they were, forced out of lungs that kept filling with smoke. He remembers the smell of his own flesh turned to ash and the rushing sound of flames over his ears.
When Richie emerged again with clothes singed and glasses cracked, it wasn't the present that he remembered. As he struggled to regain consciousness his mind was transported back two decades. Instead of a concrete floor hey lay on a gasoline soaked carpet. He reached for himself as a child. No help came, and the young Richard Gecko simply smiled with a grim satisfaction as he quickly ushered Seth out the door.
Past mixing with present makes Richie's head spin. He finally looks to Seth, needing an answer to a question he hesitates to ask.
"This makes me Dad, doesn't it?"
no subject
Now every situation feels like 'there's a theory from a book I read once that this thing might work for a situation that sounded sort of like this.' And that's exactly what it felt like when he was standing in front of Richie, ready to set him on fire. It also felt like the only solution. He was already losing his brother, after all.
Seth shakes his head before Richie's question even really registers. It's like something in him wants to be sure that there's no hesitation, because that's just how sure he is of the answer. And yet there are comparisons that can be made between what Richie did to Ray, and what Seth did to Richie. Too many. Seth shakes his head again.
"No. No, fuck that. Just get that shit out of you head, alright? You are not dad."
no subject
"I don't know how to keep her out. This isn't just seeing things. Amaru tells me to go and I go. What's going to stop it next time? Are you just going to have to babysit me and light me on fire every other day?" Richie's mind begins to race as he runs through scenario after scenario in his head. "Because I can't do that, brother. It's more a mindfuck than anything Amaru could pull."