[Again, with a little more command in it. He doesn't want to. But this hurts to watch. It hurts to sit here and know his friend is suffering and trying to brush it all under a rug, just like he does. Of all the things to pick up from him, this is what Lance takes on. Or ... maybe he had it in him all along, and it's only now bubbling up.]
[He's going to talk to Jean. He makes up his mind right then and there. Maybe it'll blow up, or maybe it'll actually help something. Give Lance a little reprieve while he keeps trying to find his footing. And -- god he deserves it. The guy works so hard here. Anyone would be stupid not to see it.]
[It only makes him want to try to help more. But he can't do that. Not until he knows how to.]
[He puts a hand out, to try and forestall the teen's exit. To try and get him to look him in the eye. Even for a moment. He would stand up, he would block him that way, if it didn't feel like so much overkill. Unnecessarily so.]
Talk to me.
[It's not whining. Not if his friend, his teammate, needs to get it out. He's supposed to listen to his team. Supposed to be there for them. And more and more it's felt like he can't do that, for whatever reason. Either he's not aware of what's happening, or they're ducking out without notice like Armin or he's slipped too far away from the ideal they need.]
[So the next word is quiet. And aching a little around the edges.]
no subject
[Again, with a little more command in it. He doesn't want to. But this hurts to watch. It hurts to sit here and know his friend is suffering and trying to brush it all under a rug, just like he does. Of all the things to pick up from him, this is what Lance takes on. Or ... maybe he had it in him all along, and it's only now bubbling up.]
[He's going to talk to Jean. He makes up his mind right then and there. Maybe it'll blow up, or maybe it'll actually help something. Give Lance a little reprieve while he keeps trying to find his footing. And -- god he deserves it. The guy works so hard here. Anyone would be stupid not to see it.]
[It only makes him want to try to help more. But he can't do that. Not until he knows how to.]
[He puts a hand out, to try and forestall the teen's exit. To try and get him to look him in the eye. Even for a moment. He would stand up, he would block him that way, if it didn't feel like so much overkill. Unnecessarily so.]
Talk to me.
[It's not whining. Not if his friend, his teammate, needs to get it out. He's supposed to listen to his team. Supposed to be there for them. And more and more it's felt like he can't do that, for whatever reason. Either he's not aware of what's happening, or they're ducking out without notice like Armin or he's slipped too far away from the ideal they need.]
[So the next word is quiet. And aching a little around the edges.]
Please.