Sam is suddenly supporting him and though it hurts to keep his head level even with that support, Albert leans into it, his forehead coming to press against Sam's as his eyes drift closed again. This is easier somehow, sitting here in the embrace of someone he's equally embraced as family. Easier and harder all at once and isn't it strange how large his family's gotten now?
At first it had been him, lost his traditional family in the way that everyone loses their parents eventually. Then Hilda, but he'd lost her too and himself in the process and thought he'd never find that support again, was resigned to never find it and remain alone to lament his existence.
But then the nine of them gathered around him, putting back the pieces he'd lost and abandoned all hope of finding, but in new places and new ways, healing the hurt and the biggest right at the center had been in the hands of an always reckless but beautifully insightful redhead with a smile like the sun. He'd lost them too, at intervals, but that one always seemed to come back.
And now there's this. There's Terezi, his adopted daughter whom he can't entirely explain his attachment to for cultural barriers but he dotes and adores her and revels in her cleverness and wants the world to be better for her. There's Venus with the same signs of damage in her that he carries, matching scars on people worlds and times apart that still somehow understand each other and nurture healing through shared pain. There's Kurloz, so haunted but so full of hope too even when he can't see it and he lets Albert guide him there, lets him share his own hope and instead of diminishing it grows in being shared. And Bruce with his mirrored weaknesses, Bucky with his mirrored experiences, Clara with her soldiering through and Steve with his inherent goodness that makes others want to strive for the same.
And Sam. Sam who he'd grown so close to in such a short amount of time. Sam who even if he doesn't understand will accept unconditionally, will see a mess of damage and emotional baggage as an entire person and not blame them for feeling how they feel because that, too, is part of the Human condition, the Mortal condition for all the Trolls go through it too. Sam who seems to be able to hold up the collective psyches of each of them and still be able to ask for help himself when he needs it, a feat in and of itself and one Albert's never been able to manage. But he would, he thinks. He would ask Sam for help, should have done before this when he had the chance. He's always been there with open arms, Albert's just always been too bullheaded to be able to show his damage in that way.
But he could, now. Sam is his brother and leads him straight and maybe after the Arena, when the source of brightness in his life is safely tucked away in 13 and out of the repeated hell and cycle of endless death that is the Neverending Quell... maybe when Jet is safe, Albert can speak freely and lay down the burdens he's carried for so long. Sam has already proved willing and able to lend a hand.
Family.
So strange how it grows even in the worst of circumstances. Or maybe because of them. That's when you find out, really. When you find out who will stand by you in the darkness as well as the light, and as the light grows dimmer in Albert's eyes he feels he's standing there with Sam as the darkness closes in. It's a strange feeling, almost out of body, but it's better than drowning in his own lungs.
"Th...ank...y..," is all he manages to croak, but the words are there regardless. The sentiment is there. Trust, fidelity, fraternity. Brothers not just in arms but in practice.
Albert's breath rattles liquid in his chest, coming out like static with pops and crackles as his weight grows heavier against Sam's support, but it grows quieter slowly, soon barely audible over the moving air of the caves themselves.
no subject
At first it had been him, lost his traditional family in the way that everyone loses their parents eventually. Then Hilda, but he'd lost her too and himself in the process and thought he'd never find that support again, was resigned to never find it and remain alone to lament his existence.
But then the nine of them gathered around him, putting back the pieces he'd lost and abandoned all hope of finding, but in new places and new ways, healing the hurt and the biggest right at the center had been in the hands of an always reckless but beautifully insightful redhead with a smile like the sun. He'd lost them too, at intervals, but that one always seemed to come back.
And now there's this. There's Terezi, his adopted daughter whom he can't entirely explain his attachment to for cultural barriers but he dotes and adores her and revels in her cleverness and wants the world to be better for her. There's Venus with the same signs of damage in her that he carries, matching scars on people worlds and times apart that still somehow understand each other and nurture healing through shared pain. There's Kurloz, so haunted but so full of hope too even when he can't see it and he lets Albert guide him there, lets him share his own hope and instead of diminishing it grows in being shared. And Bruce with his mirrored weaknesses, Bucky with his mirrored experiences, Clara with her soldiering through and Steve with his inherent goodness that makes others want to strive for the same.
And Sam. Sam who he'd grown so close to in such a short amount of time. Sam who even if he doesn't understand will accept unconditionally, will see a mess of damage and emotional baggage as an entire person and not blame them for feeling how they feel because that, too, is part of the Human condition, the Mortal condition for all the Trolls go through it too. Sam who seems to be able to hold up the collective psyches of each of them and still be able to ask for help himself when he needs it, a feat in and of itself and one Albert's never been able to manage. But he would, he thinks. He would ask Sam for help, should have done before this when he had the chance. He's always been there with open arms, Albert's just always been too bullheaded to be able to show his damage in that way.
But he could, now. Sam is his brother and leads him straight and maybe after the Arena, when the source of brightness in his life is safely tucked away in 13 and out of the repeated hell and cycle of endless death that is the Neverending Quell... maybe when Jet is safe, Albert can speak freely and lay down the burdens he's carried for so long. Sam has already proved willing and able to lend a hand.
Family.
So strange how it grows even in the worst of circumstances. Or maybe because of them. That's when you find out, really. When you find out who will stand by you in the darkness as well as the light, and as the light grows dimmer in Albert's eyes he feels he's standing there with Sam as the darkness closes in. It's a strange feeling, almost out of body, but it's better than drowning in his own lungs.
"Th...ank...y..," is all he manages to croak, but the words are there regardless. The sentiment is there. Trust, fidelity, fraternity. Brothers not just in arms but in practice.
Albert's breath rattles liquid in his chest, coming out like static with pops and crackles as his weight grows heavier against Sam's support, but it grows quieter slowly, soon barely audible over the moving air of the caves themselves.
It's not long before the sound stops altogether.