What happened, but . . . it was all blurred. It was . . .
[He's grateful that Bruno doesn't press for details. He's grateful, too, he doesn't immediately try and tell him it's not his fault. It is. It is, sure as if he shoved Abdul in front of Hol's gun and Cream's void. Abdul ought to have lived, but he didn't, and it's Polnareff's fault he didn't, those are just the facts.]
It was all of it. All at once, he got shot and then it was . . .
[Hell. He wants to explain and he doesn't, all at once. Or rather: he wants Bruno to simply know, without the need for words. But his lover isn't a telepath, and so Polnareff takes in a harsh breath and says:]
He was eaten. Just fucking eaten by a Stand, by Dio's fucking henchman, just fucking-- I looked behind me and there was nothing left but his arms, just his arms, god! The last thing he did was shove me out of the way, and I didn't-- I should've--
[He shoves a hand over his eyes, gritting his teeth to try and stave off another sob.]
I think I loved him. [Guilt surges up in him, hot and all-encompassing, on top of everything else. He shouldn't tell Bruno that; that's mean and cruel, but god help him, it's true. That love isn't in place of Bruno, it isn't as if his boyfriend is some stopgap measure meant to fill the void, but it still feels like a betrayal.] And I never knew enough to tell him, and then I got him killed, and I never-- how the fuck can I live with that?
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[He's grateful that Bruno doesn't press for details. He's grateful, too, he doesn't immediately try and tell him it's not his fault. It is. It is, sure as if he shoved Abdul in front of Hol's gun and Cream's void. Abdul ought to have lived, but he didn't, and it's Polnareff's fault he didn't, those are just the facts.]
It was all of it. All at once, he got shot and then it was . . .
[Hell. He wants to explain and he doesn't, all at once. Or rather: he wants Bruno to simply know, without the need for words. But his lover isn't a telepath, and so Polnareff takes in a harsh breath and says:]
He was eaten. Just fucking eaten by a Stand, by Dio's fucking henchman, just fucking-- I looked behind me and there was nothing left but his arms, just his arms, god! The last thing he did was shove me out of the way, and I didn't-- I should've--
[He shoves a hand over his eyes, gritting his teeth to try and stave off another sob.]
I think I loved him. [Guilt surges up in him, hot and all-encompassing, on top of everything else. He shouldn't tell Bruno that; that's mean and cruel, but god help him, it's true. That love isn't in place of Bruno, it isn't as if his boyfriend is some stopgap measure meant to fill the void, but it still feels like a betrayal.] And I never knew enough to tell him, and then I got him killed, and I never-- how the fuck can I live with that?