He doesn't know how to explain if John still doesn't understand. There was a bar set before Yellow ever existed, long before Edwin did. He doesn't know where the bar is. He just knows he hasn't reached it.
He understands. He just very much disagrees. And he could question more, but he's got enough experience with Natalie that he has an idea what this is.
There's nothing broken, or tainted, or wrong with you, Edwin. You don't have to be like me to be a person or to be happy or to graduate. We might have started from the same place, but we've taken different paths and it's made us different.
There's a weird... disappointment that Edwin can't define. A fatigue and sense of loss he doesn't know what to do with. John doesn't get it. He doesn't know. He doesn't know what it's like to try so hard for the person that made you and have them sneer at the effort. He doesn't know what that means.
He doesn't understand that different is worse. Maybe not all kinds of different. But whatever kind Edwin is.
John breathes in deep and holds back the urge to growl. Arthur. Astarion. Edwin. He loves all of them and all of them are fucking stupid but not in a way that means they don't deserve to be happy and aren't wonderful and clever and smart but in the way that means that they're all sitting there building walls in front of themselves, walking into them, and then being sad that a wall is keeping them from being the person they want to be.
No! Not 'okay!'
It's growled but low, frustrated, not angry.
It's not okay for you to insult my brother! It's not okay for you to think my brother is less or worse or not as good.
I love you! I love you for who you are, not because you're a shitty version of me! I love you because you're different from me! And I'm- I'm angry that you're going to sit there and think that you're not as good when you're just as good and whatever metric you're using that tells you different is probably just because people say stupid shit a lot of the time!
He flinches, tenses, the way he always does when someone in close proximity gets upset, and it takes him a few extra seconds when John is finished talking to catch up.
And then he is angry, though he couldn't say at what if asked. He pushes away from his brother and jumps to the ground to find the nearest piece of furniture he can jam himself under.
And John is going to let him and then sit next to it with his arms crossed.
I'm not taking it back. You're fucking wonderful. And no, you can't prove different because I know you'd just be doing it to try and show me I shouldn't believe in you and it's not going to work so fucking accept the responsibility of being someone I love and stop hiding behind the idea that there's something wrong with you! There isn't!
He pulls on his ears, frustrated enough to reply less with words or even ideas than a burst of anger and old hurt and bitterness.
Fuck you!
This time he manages to mean it.
You didn't have to come back to the barge as a fucking animal. You didn't have to come back and look like-- like-- like a daemon, like something that isn't even its own person, like something that only exists because a human already did.
No! I didn't! Because my path is different! I had other shit to deal with!
Why the fuck do you think everything that happens to you is a judgment on you? Or is that just what you decided because it makes it easier for you to tell yourself that you're less and you're worse and you're not your own person?
Or you know what, sure! Sure. It's on purpose. Did you ever think that you ended up like that because you needed to see what it's like to be something like that because you aren't even though you keep thinking you are?! That maybe you needed to get angry with the idea to realize it's all in your head?!
He wads in on himself, shape going loose and formless as he squeezes around his crown until it hurts.
It's too much to think about, it's too much to feel, he can't even pick apart the first piece of what John says before he starts the second piece and it's in such direct opposition to the first part that it makes some bit of Edwin's psyche ache trying to get the two things into alignment.
Shut up, shut up, you're just fucking confusing me.
You said it wasn't on purpose and then you said it was, and I know you didn't mean both but-- I just-- I just--
He keeps squeezing the crown, not hard enough to break anything.
I'm afraid of it being a judgement, I'm scared that it is and that maybe I'll think it isn't and then I'll be wrong. That I'll-- I'll miss something that's supposed to be a lesson, o-or what I need to graduate.
His voice drops, shame-tinted again.
I-- I never noticed the things that Arthur wanted me to, I didn't... didn't know things were important that I should have, and I don't know what's a judgement and what's not.
Ah. Well, that does give him a few things to work with. He'll start with the most important.
Arthur talks a lot of shit. And he can be really unhelpful when he wants something, especially in a crisis, because he asks for things without any fucking context to tell you how he wants them. A pause. He used to bitch at me too.
Just to be clear about that. A moment later, he clarifies-
...I don't think it's on purpose. But his perception of things is pretty fucking warped when he's angry. I let him hit his head on things plenty of times just because he was being a shit.
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He doesn't see how that makes an argument that John isn't better than him.
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He keeps petting him.
So this is about speed?
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He doesn't know how to explain if John still doesn't understand. There was a bar set before Yellow ever existed, long before Edwin did. He doesn't know where the bar is. He just knows he hasn't reached it.
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There's nothing broken, or tainted, or wrong with you, Edwin. You don't have to be like me to be a person or to be happy or to graduate. We might have started from the same place, but we've taken different paths and it's made us different.
Not better or worse. Just different.
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He doesn't understand that different is worse. Maybe not all kinds of different. But whatever kind Edwin is.
Okay.
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No! Not 'okay!'
It's growled but low, frustrated, not angry.
It's not okay for you to insult my brother! It's not okay for you to think my brother is less or worse or not as good.
I love you! I love you for who you are, not because you're a shitty version of me! I love you because you're different from me! And I'm- I'm angry that you're going to sit there and think that you're not as good when you're just as good and whatever metric you're using that tells you different is probably just because people say stupid shit a lot of the time!
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And then he is angry, though he couldn't say at what if asked. He pushes away from his brother and jumps to the ground to find the nearest piece of furniture he can jam himself under.
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I'm not taking it back. You're fucking wonderful. And no, you can't prove different because I know you'd just be doing it to try and show me I shouldn't believe in you and it's not going to work so fucking accept the responsibility of being someone I love and stop hiding behind the idea that there's something wrong with you! There isn't!
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Go away!
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He can't even make himself mean it, though, and the lack of conviction shows through his own growl.
Fuck you. I don't want to be-- be-- I don't want to be whatever I am!
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Don't like it? Change it! That's something you can do! Every day! It's not easy but it's small enough that you can do it!
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Fuck you!
This time he manages to mean it.
You didn't have to come back to the barge as a fucking animal. You didn't have to come back and look like-- like-- like a daemon, like something that isn't even its own person, like something that only exists because a human already did.
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Why the fuck do you think everything that happens to you is a judgment on you? Or is that just what you decided because it makes it easier for you to tell yourself that you're less and you're worse and you're not your own person?
Or you know what, sure! Sure. It's on purpose. Did you ever think that you ended up like that because you needed to see what it's like to be something like that because you aren't even though you keep thinking you are?! That maybe you needed to get angry with the idea to realize it's all in your head?!
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It's too much to think about, it's too much to feel, he can't even pick apart the first piece of what John says before he starts the second piece and it's in such direct opposition to the first part that it makes some bit of Edwin's psyche ache trying to get the two things into alignment.
Shut up, shut up, you're just fucking confusing me.
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Instead, he hunkers down and lays on the ground so he can look at Edwin, folding his arms underneath his head.
His voice is a lot gentler then.
Okay. Let's start there.
What did you find confusing?
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He keeps squeezing the crown, not hard enough to break anything.
I'm afraid of it being a judgement, I'm scared that it is and that maybe I'll think it isn't and then I'll be wrong. That I'll-- I'll miss something that's supposed to be a lesson, o-or what I need to graduate.
His voice drops, shame-tinted again.
I-- I never noticed the things that Arthur wanted me to, I didn't... didn't know things were important that I should have, and I don't know what's a judgement and what's not.
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Arthur talks a lot of shit. And he can be really unhelpful when he wants something, especially in a crisis, because he asks for things without any fucking context to tell you how he wants them. A pause. He used to bitch at me too.
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It's both a confession and an almost-amused commiseration.
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Just to be clear about that. A moment later, he clarifies-
...I don't think it's on purpose. But his perception of things is pretty fucking warped when he's angry. I let him hit his head on things plenty of times just because he was being a shit.
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...What'd he say?
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What?
Whe-
You mean when he was being a shit?
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Usually just 'fuck!'
Sometimes 'AUGH'.
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That makes him feel better about something anyway, for some reason.
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