the next right thing | thierry | re: results
Ever since he was born, Thierry's world was one of expectations.
Of directions, too-tight collars, demands, punishments, exploitations, and the indignity of inaction. Of social gatherings, hushed whispers, things behind closed doors that no one ever dared to speak of and so no one ever heard. If you never scream, help never comes, and even when it does, when you live in a beautiful gilded cage why should anyone believe you're in need of it at all?
Thierry had screamed, twice, and no one had listened, and so he had lapsed into silence and cowardice and growing sickness as he watched his meager value to people whose love came at a cost not worth paying stay afloat with his sister's life for forfeit.
Thierry died desperately trying to right a wrong, and he'd do so again, now.
He says, everyone finally able to see the tears that trickle down his face. It's striking, really, how awfully young he looks. How much younger he seems, curled in on himself, crying and scared and frozen in place.
"Did I do the right thing?"
He asks to no one, grief and fear raw in his voice as he brings his arms up to hold himself defensively, eyes already darting around as if trying to gauge potential threats. He seems terrified. Fully, blindingly terrified. But he still manages to speak.
"Does it make me a terrible person?"
Thierry laughs, a shaky and unsure thing, as shaky and unsure hands come up to try to futilely wipe at tears that won't stop coming.
"I said it all along, didn't I? Equinox is not your enemy. I love my team like I love my own family, make no mistake. Perhaps it's...fitting."
He laughs more, mirthlessly, and cries even harder.
"I've always managed to fail my family, somehow. I'm sorry. I couldn't do it."
