[Stephen talks through it all as flippantly as someone might tell an anecdote about a social mishap at a party. High stakes rendered down into drama, trauma turned to dry humour. As if he hadn't just been crying for the weight of this, having it ripped open and dragged up into the present by Tony Stark's arrival.
Takeshi lets him. Doesn't strip the layers of it back, doesn't punch through it. He'd be a hypocrite if he did, self-aware to recognise that he'd tell his own history the same way. A little heavier, maybe. A little drier.
The pieces click together, though. Powers of perception or just understanding the shapes of things, of the guilt edging Stephen's frame, the outrage in Stark's accusation.]
You gave the stone up anyway.
[There isn't any judgement in the statement. No sense of rushing ahead, or pushing Stephen to hurry up. If anything, it's a hand offered to help Stephen past the hardest part, Takeshi's expression steady, patient. Listening.]
no subject
Takeshi lets him. Doesn't strip the layers of it back, doesn't punch through it. He'd be a hypocrite if he did, self-aware to recognise that he'd tell his own history the same way. A little heavier, maybe. A little drier.
The pieces click together, though. Powers of perception or just understanding the shapes of things, of the guilt edging Stephen's frame, the outrage in Stark's accusation.]
You gave the stone up anyway.
[There isn't any judgement in the statement. No sense of rushing ahead, or pushing Stephen to hurry up. If anything, it's a hand offered to help Stephen past the hardest part, Takeshi's expression steady, patient. Listening.]