"I know," he agrees. They don't get a say, any more than Quentin had had a say in the things he's done to himself... or had Jedao do the last few months. But that... it had been Jedao doing them. "All we can do is be there." He doesn't feel like their presence will even mitigate the risk, it'll simply be a comfort for Quentin.
He wishes Quentin had stuck to asking them that, especially since he doesn't appear to really want what he did ask for.
"I don't know about worse. But it's... hard." He'd tried so hard to protect him and failed so miserably, and he's been doing his best not to think about it all this time. Ironically, the fact he was struggling so much with his own situation had made it at least a little easier, despite the constant reminder of Quentin's eye patch, this... letting him go back under Kamski's knife. It's hard.
"There is," he counters quietly. "Keep him from having to go through it scared and alone." It's not anything concrete, not in the way Jedao would be more comfortable with, but it's important to Quentin. He doesn't know what he'll do if Kamski does do something... evil, for lack of a better word. The fact Quentin acknowledged it as even a joking possibility makes him feel vaguely sick.
"No," he agrees as steadily as he can. "But he's decided he's going to, and he's scared. Not even because of Kamski, just... because it's his eye again."
Maybe it's that he has a more fatalistic attitude, that he's so used to having no power to affect anyone's decisions, no ability to actually protect anyone, that lets him just... accept Quentin's decision without letting it show how much it's twisting him up. He wishes Quentin would just let Jedao kill him, though. It feels so much safer.
"I know." His voice cracks just a little at that, because this is Jedao, because he doesn't have to be an automaton for him. "I saw." And even if he doesn't say it it's easy enough to tell he wishes Quentin would take that route instead.
"But dying is... I guess it's harder for him than this." And he supposes he can understand that, or try to; even if dying at Jedao's hand had been one of the easiest things he's ever done.
"I know," he agrees again, because he does. Quentin has no control over Kamski, and he can't see that he has any particularly good reason to trust the man, but he's going to anyway.
"Yeah. Okay." He can see the appeal, that Jedao needs to be worn out past the point of being able to hyperfocus on this, and he could use the distraction too. He pads over finally and drapes himself over Jedao's back, his armor left back in their room when he'd come looking for him. "Enclosure?" It may still not be working quite right, but it's working well enough for what they'd need... and gives them a little more chance of privacy for the kind of no holds barred, brutal fighting he imagines Jedao wants.
There's something more to how wound up Jedao is about this, but Fives isn't sure what or how to get at it, not right now. Maybe... maybe after wearing himself out he'll be more able to talk about it, whatever it is, he doesn't think there's any point in trying to push now.
"Come on, I'll clean up the floor with you, Cyar'ika." The one time he can confidently promise that, because no matter how many dirty tricks Jedao pulls out Fives has him outmatched when it comes to close quarters, unarmed combat... especially now that he's seen so many of his dirty tricks.
He squeezes him tight, maybe a little too tight, and heads for the door, and the Enclosure from there.
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"This must be worse for you," he says, because admitting that it could be about him feels like a few different kinds of failure.
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"I don't know about worse. But it's... hard." He'd tried so hard to protect him and failed so miserably, and he's been doing his best not to think about it all this time. Ironically, the fact he was struggling so much with his own situation had made it at least a little easier, despite the constant reminder of Quentin's eye patch, this... letting him go back under Kamski's knife. It's hard.
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Which is. Hard for him. Not because he can't, but because Quentin doesn't want them to.
"But it doesn't matter."
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But Jedao will be there, for both of them, no matter how cornered and helpless he feels.
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Maybe it's that he has a more fatalistic attitude, that he's so used to having no power to affect anyone's decisions, no ability to actually protect anyone, that lets him just... accept Quentin's decision without letting it show how much it's twisting him up. He wishes Quentin would just let Jedao kill him, though. It feels so much safer.
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"I told him I'd do it." And he will. For Fives just as much as Quentin.
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"But dying is... I guess it's harder for him than this." And he supposes he can understand that, or try to; even if dying at Jedao's hand had been one of the easiest things he's ever done.
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And Quentin wants them to pretend to control it. And Jedao is - angry. And he has no right to be. He has to shut it down.
"Let's go somewhere we can wrestle until I can't move."
The one form of combat where Fives has the definitive and crushing advantage.
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"Yeah. Okay." He can see the appeal, that Jedao needs to be worn out past the point of being able to hyperfocus on this, and he could use the distraction too. He pads over finally and drapes himself over Jedao's back, his armor left back in their room when he'd come looking for him. "Enclosure?" It may still not be working quite right, but it's working well enough for what they'd need... and gives them a little more chance of privacy for the kind of no holds barred, brutal fighting he imagines Jedao wants.
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"Come on, I'll clean up the floor with you, Cyar'ika." The one time he can confidently promise that, because no matter how many dirty tricks Jedao pulls out Fives has him outmatched when it comes to close quarters, unarmed combat... especially now that he's seen so many of his dirty tricks.
He squeezes him tight, maybe a little too tight, and heads for the door, and the Enclosure from there.