All of it's been a lot to take in, though Jaime's not entirely sure what he had expected. Resistance, perhaps, or maybe Ken would have just accepted that Jaime knew, and said that where he was from, Minato was dead.
But with these people, things are always more complicated than they seem at first glance, and always, always worse. Jaime's learned to steel himself to prepare for the worst, but he can never actually prepare himself; he's too close to the situation, too close to these people, and their injuries are his injuries too. He wishes more than anything that they got the happy ending that they deserved - and he knows immediately that Ken would argue the fact, because nothing ever ends and there's no such thing as a purely happy ending - but that doesn't stop him from thinking it. For fighting this hard, they deserve nothing but life and peace, Minato included.
And Minato has neither, just a group of people he'd give anything to help splintered by his own demise. Seeing the unshed tears in Ken's eyes makes him feel bad for even asking, but he shakes that off almost immediately after. It's a good thing he knows, because the more he knows, the better off he'll be to be able to do his part and help -- and if Ken thinks that he's not the one who needs Jaime's help anymore, than the same certainly doesn't go for Minato.
But if Ken's the one brimming over with emotion here, Jaime's the one who very studiously isn't. His hands remain folded on top of the table as Ken speaks, and he watches him closely, intently, seriously. He may not understand why so many of these things happened, but he has a feeling that if he gets anything out of this conversation, understanding this should be it.]
You could tell him that it was hard for a while, but that you've all decided to move on. You've come so far, Ken, even if it's been harder than any of you guys could've ever predicted, [he says, finally, voice quiet and neutral. It's a suggestion floated without much seriousness; he knows that Ken won't go for it, though he's not entirely certain if Minato would actually ask any more of him, or prefer to go on in, if not happy, then in blind ignorance. But he kept one big secret from Ken for his own good, and if Ken thinks it necessary, he'll keep another from Minato for his own good. Jaime keeps a lot of other people's secrets. He's good at other people's secrets.
The chairlegs scraping against the ground sounds loud against the silence of the room as Jaime rises to his feet and pads over to where Ken's seated. He crouches beside him, placing one hand on his shoulder.]
Look, Ken... I'm not gonna tell you that keeping it a secret for him for that long - [because, unfortunately, he's not underneath any illusions that Minato's change will be rapid by any stretch of the imagination] - is a good thing, but I promise I won't be the one to tell him, at least.
[It is, he realizes, almost verbatim to what he had told Bart so long ago.]
But I am glad you told me, even if I hadda force it out of you. Keeping secrets isn't easy. And keeping this one...
[Every time Ken looks at Minato, is he going to have to shake himself out of thinking of him as a dead man walking? Is he going to have to try not to show how much he cherishes every extra moment with him, knowing that it's even more fleeting than he could have ever imagined? Maybe Ken's no stranger to talking to people he knows as dead, but this one's different.
It's the first time that Jaime hasn't had to keep someone's death a secret, but that someone else has knowledge of his death. Of course it would be something like this with the people involved.]
It's not going to be easy. You'll need someone to talk to about it.
no subject
All of it's been a lot to take in, though Jaime's not entirely sure what he had expected. Resistance, perhaps, or maybe Ken would have just accepted that Jaime knew, and said that where he was from, Minato was dead.
But with these people, things are always more complicated than they seem at first glance, and always, always worse. Jaime's learned to steel himself to prepare for the worst, but he can never actually prepare himself; he's too close to the situation, too close to these people, and their injuries are his injuries too. He wishes more than anything that they got the happy ending that they deserved - and he knows immediately that Ken would argue the fact, because nothing ever ends and there's no such thing as a purely happy ending - but that doesn't stop him from thinking it. For fighting this hard, they deserve nothing but life and peace, Minato included.
And Minato has neither, just a group of people he'd give anything to help splintered by his own demise. Seeing the unshed tears in Ken's eyes makes him feel bad for even asking, but he shakes that off almost immediately after. It's a good thing he knows, because the more he knows, the better off he'll be to be able to do his part and help -- and if Ken thinks that he's not the one who needs Jaime's help anymore, than the same certainly doesn't go for Minato.
But if Ken's the one brimming over with emotion here, Jaime's the one who very studiously isn't. His hands remain folded on top of the table as Ken speaks, and he watches him closely, intently, seriously. He may not understand why so many of these things happened, but he has a feeling that if he gets anything out of this conversation, understanding this should be it.]
You could tell him that it was hard for a while, but that you've all decided to move on. You've come so far, Ken, even if it's been harder than any of you guys could've ever predicted, [he says, finally, voice quiet and neutral. It's a suggestion floated without much seriousness; he knows that Ken won't go for it, though he's not entirely certain if Minato would actually ask any more of him, or prefer to go on in, if not happy, then in blind ignorance. But he kept one big secret from Ken for his own good, and if Ken thinks it necessary, he'll keep another from Minato for his own good. Jaime keeps a lot of other people's secrets. He's good at other people's secrets.
The chairlegs scraping against the ground sounds loud against the silence of the room as Jaime rises to his feet and pads over to where Ken's seated. He crouches beside him, placing one hand on his shoulder.]
Look, Ken... I'm not gonna tell you that keeping it a secret for him for that long - [because, unfortunately, he's not underneath any illusions that Minato's change will be rapid by any stretch of the imagination] - is a good thing, but I promise I won't be the one to tell him, at least.
[It is, he realizes, almost verbatim to what he had told Bart so long ago.]
But I am glad you told me, even if I hadda force it out of you. Keeping secrets isn't easy. And keeping this one...
[Every time Ken looks at Minato, is he going to have to shake himself out of thinking of him as a dead man walking? Is he going to have to try not to show how much he cherishes every extra moment with him, knowing that it's even more fleeting than he could have ever imagined? Maybe Ken's no stranger to talking to people he knows as dead, but this one's different.
It's the first time that Jaime hasn't had to keep someone's death a secret, but that someone else has knowledge of his death. Of course it would be something like this with the people involved.]
It's not going to be easy. You'll need someone to talk to about it.