He also knows that it's his fault it was that way. Maybe if he hadn't let himself get so shaken, if he hadn't just dropped to his knees and dropped his teke field, Wash wouldn't have had to take the shot. Maybe they could've just knocked her back and run, so that at least she was intact, at least there was a chance she could be cured later.
It's his fault. She's dead because of him, because she gave up her life - her entire self - for him, and because he'd been too weak, too emotional, too careless, too slow...
He's never known this kind of hurt before. He and his sister's parents are young, their great-uncles are still hearty enough to go on adventures, both sets of grandparents are still alive. He's never lost anyone. Anyone. All of his family, friends, and acquaintances had survived Weirdmageddon, and even though Mabel had been zapped away from the Legion's universe by the Time Trapper, he knows she went back home, where it's safe.
The worst loss he'd ever felt before this was when he and Mabel had lost their pet fish, the Emasculator, named such a ferocious name because she was the one fish that survived when they "liberated" her and two others from an ill-kept decorative aquarium at a store behind the shop-keeper's back using empty sandwich bags.
After Emaculator died, they'd insisted on giving her a full Viking funeral at a nearby lake, because, in Mabel's words, "She was a warrior," complete with setting her tiny coffin-boat on fire. Then Mabel had insisted they had to wear black for a week at school in mourning.
A fish. That's it. That's the worst it ever got, just a stupid fish. Even all the other times he'd been hurt, it'd just happened to him. The worst thing that he'd lost had been himself, not someone else.
He wishes he'd lost himself again, wishes his mind had turned into some mutated monster thing, because it's still better than this, still would've felt less hollow. At least as he suffered and existed in anguish - again - he'd have gotten to be someone else while doing it. Way easier to dissociate that way.
He stomps away from Wash and starts to gasp like he can't breathe, like he's hyperventilating, but it's not just hyperventilating, it's the kind of sobbing that happens when someone can't seem to sob fast enough to keep up with how fast their heart is shaking to pieces. The sobs are almost like a clock ticking down, and what they're ticking down to starts to become pretty clear as blue energy starts to swirl faster around Dipper in wild tendrils, as little pebbles and debris start to lift off the ground around him like he's turned the gravity off.
Hal and Hiccup had seen him break down like this last time, during his mental breakdown after his torture at the hands of the Yellows. But this time, Dipper himself knows what's coming, this time he feels himself losing control. As the blue light sucks inward, compressing in, in preparation for the inevitable explosion, Dipper drops to his knees, lets out a grief-stricken scream, buries his head in his arms....
And then it all just...stops. The explosion doesn't come this time. The pebbles fall back down to the ground. The light just...flickers out. There's a tense moment where he just holds himself there, nearly ripping out his hair with white-knuckled fists, squeezing his head between his arms like the pressure is the only thing holding his skull together.
Then his arms suddenly drop, and his hand slides slowly down the side of his face, smearing blood as it goes because of the cut from Pidge's glasses. He looks at the ground for a moment, blinking as tears run down his face, and wipes at his cheeks with the back of his hand, sniffling slightly.
"Okay, I'm done," he says. He thinks he means he's done freaking out, but really he's just...done. Done everything. Done hurting. Done caring. Done.
He climbs to his feet again. "I'll report to Kid Q and tell her what happened. See if she needs me somewhere else, because I can't -" He waves vaguely at the fight nearby. He can fight, but he can't do it here.
"She'll probably want you to stay here on containment anyway. I'll let you know where she puts me, so you don't have to worry."
And that's it. The moment is suddenly over and he's acting like nothing just happened, like he just feels...nothing.
no subject
He also knows that it's his fault it was that way. Maybe if he hadn't let himself get so shaken, if he hadn't just dropped to his knees and dropped his teke field, Wash wouldn't have had to take the shot. Maybe they could've just knocked her back and run, so that at least she was intact, at least there was a chance she could be cured later.
It's his fault. She's dead because of him, because she gave up her life - her entire self - for him, and because he'd been too weak, too emotional, too careless, too slow...
He's never known this kind of hurt before. He and his sister's parents are young, their great-uncles are still hearty enough to go on adventures, both sets of grandparents are still alive. He's never lost anyone. Anyone. All of his family, friends, and acquaintances had survived Weirdmageddon, and even though Mabel had been zapped away from the Legion's universe by the Time Trapper, he knows she went back home, where it's safe.
The worst loss he'd ever felt before this was when he and Mabel had lost their pet fish, the Emasculator, named such a ferocious name because she was the one fish that survived when they "liberated" her and two others from an ill-kept decorative aquarium at a store behind the shop-keeper's back using empty sandwich bags.
After Emaculator died, they'd insisted on giving her a full Viking funeral at a nearby lake, because, in Mabel's words, "She was a warrior," complete with setting her tiny coffin-boat on fire. Then Mabel had insisted they had to wear black for a week at school in mourning.
A fish. That's it. That's the worst it ever got, just a stupid fish. Even all the other times he'd been hurt, it'd just happened to him. The worst thing that he'd lost had been himself, not someone else.
He wishes he'd lost himself again, wishes his mind had turned into some mutated monster thing, because it's still better than this, still would've felt less hollow. At least as he suffered and existed in anguish - again - he'd have gotten to be someone else while doing it. Way easier to dissociate that way.
He stomps away from Wash and starts to gasp like he can't breathe, like he's hyperventilating, but it's not just hyperventilating, it's the kind of sobbing that happens when someone can't seem to sob fast enough to keep up with how fast their heart is shaking to pieces. The sobs are almost like a clock ticking down, and what they're ticking down to starts to become pretty clear as blue energy starts to swirl faster around Dipper in wild tendrils, as little pebbles and debris start to lift off the ground around him like he's turned the gravity off.
Hal and Hiccup had seen him break down like this last time, during his mental breakdown after his torture at the hands of the Yellows. But this time, Dipper himself knows what's coming, this time he feels himself losing control. As the blue light sucks inward, compressing in, in preparation for the inevitable explosion, Dipper drops to his knees, lets out a grief-stricken scream, buries his head in his arms....
And then it all just...stops. The explosion doesn't come this time. The pebbles fall back down to the ground. The light just...flickers out. There's a tense moment where he just holds himself there, nearly ripping out his hair with white-knuckled fists, squeezing his head between his arms like the pressure is the only thing holding his skull together.
Then his arms suddenly drop, and his hand slides slowly down the side of his face, smearing blood as it goes because of the cut from Pidge's glasses. He looks at the ground for a moment, blinking as tears run down his face, and wipes at his cheeks with the back of his hand, sniffling slightly.
"Okay, I'm done," he says. He thinks he means he's done freaking out, but really he's just...done. Done everything. Done hurting. Done caring. Done.
He climbs to his feet again. "I'll report to Kid Q and tell her what happened. See if she needs me somewhere else, because I can't -" He waves vaguely at the fight nearby. He can fight, but he can't do it here.
"She'll probably want you to stay here on containment anyway. I'll let you know where she puts me, so you don't have to worry."
And that's it. The moment is suddenly over and he's acting like nothing just happened, like he just feels...nothing.