Martin's voice was a mix of winded laughter and hiccuping sobs, reeling from the tidal waves of emotional and sensory feedback. It'd only been a few days, but he'd been pulled right out of time itself; immersed again, he had a completely new body and purpose. It didn't rip him away from his past – as much as he rejoiced in the laughter, he grieved in the tears. Likewise, as much as he tried to laugh off his fears, he wept in absolute gratitude.
His fingers grasped tufts of hair, clumps of shirt – real things. Not that things outside of time were fake...only different. Dirt on his bare knees was practically a revelation. It all threatened to drown out what mattered most, but the heat he felt from the metal that used to be his grounded him, fixed his attention back on the wrecked and weeping shape that held him – that made him. The one who suffered so much on Martin's behalf – seemingly needlessly, from the boy's confused, frightened state of things. Always the words someone has to colored what little rhyme or reason he could come up with as to why.
Far away from it all, from the end of those things, he had much better perspective. His own motivations, reactions, and reasons were laid bare and apparent when he'd been freed of the black shell his old body had become.
Bariyan, the second father. Always working hard for his sake. Martin's heart almost broke again just thinking on the turmoil he'd caused him, let alone so many others. I have so much to atone for.
"Thank you," he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. "You did what you promised. I'm so sorry, being so awful. It won't happen again, ever. Ever. Because you fixed it."
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His fingers grasped tufts of hair, clumps of shirt – real things. Not that things outside of time were fake...only different. Dirt on his bare knees was practically a revelation. It all threatened to drown out what mattered most, but the heat he felt from the metal that used to be his grounded him, fixed his attention back on the wrecked and weeping shape that held him – that made him. The one who suffered so much on Martin's behalf – seemingly needlessly, from the boy's confused, frightened state of things. Always the words someone has to colored what little rhyme or reason he could come up with as to why.
Far away from it all, from the end of those things, he had much better perspective. His own motivations, reactions, and reasons were laid bare and apparent when he'd been freed of the black shell his old body had become.
Bariyan, the second father. Always working hard for his sake. Martin's heart almost broke again just thinking on the turmoil he'd caused him, let alone so many others. I have so much to atone for.
"Thank you," he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. "You did what you promised. I'm so sorry, being so awful. It won't happen again, ever. Ever. Because you fixed it."