[She speaks. Rapid, scattered, broken, but she's speaking, like she didn't before. Like he didn't give her a chance to before. And slowly but surely, his gaze lifts from the ground to examine her.]
[Maybe Riley has some idea, now, of why he was punished so many times for staring. It's not staring at, but staring into. She's experienced firsthand how brutal his analysis can be, and is perhaps the only person who's received it and come out physically unscathed so far. Some time not terribly far from now, Giorno will realize this, will understand on a bone-deep level how phenomenally inappropriate it was to do that to her. Right now, he just knows it was wrong; right now, he's just in shock.]
[But it's true, too, that he desperately wants to believe her, and this is the first thing she's said that fills him with anything but doubt. There's a suspicion under his skin that he can't get rid of, not yet, but it recedes slightly at what she tells him now. Because she's telling the truth, and because . . . this is Riley. He recognizes her now. This is his sister.]
[He missed her.]
. . . Okay.
[His voice is so terribly quiet, it's nearly inaudible. But it's his voice, not anyone else's. Just Giorno, not who he tries to be to anyone else, not the version of himself that tries to right wrongs.]
I believe you. It's just . . .
[He presses his lips together, hesitating, wavering on whether to say anything at all. After a moment, he shakes his head.]
Good intentions don't . . . mean good outcomes. It's not that simple. I wish it was, but . . .
[His hands curl into frustrated fists. Why is this so hard to articulate? He's supposed to be good at words.]
You've never — before, when you hurt people, no one else was involved. You didn't have to worry about collateral damage. And this — I know you didn't intend it to be, but that's what this is. You can't take care of . . . all of them all the time, Riley, you're one person and bad things happen to us all the time. What if you fall asleep again? What if something happens to change you for a while, because that happens all the time? What if you disappear? We'll help you, we'll all help, but I'm — scared—
[scared?]
Because what if it happens again? What's the plan? I have a plan now, for the— the orphanage, but what's stopping all of this from happening again? Even if you mean well, that's not . . . that doesn't fix everything.
no subject
[Maybe Riley has some idea, now, of why he was punished so many times for staring. It's not staring at, but staring into. She's experienced firsthand how brutal his analysis can be, and is perhaps the only person who's received it and come out physically unscathed so far. Some time not terribly far from now, Giorno will realize this, will understand on a bone-deep level how phenomenally inappropriate it was to do that to her. Right now, he just knows it was wrong; right now, he's just in shock.]
[But it's true, too, that he desperately wants to believe her, and this is the first thing she's said that fills him with anything but doubt. There's a suspicion under his skin that he can't get rid of, not yet, but it recedes slightly at what she tells him now. Because she's telling the truth, and because . . . this is Riley. He recognizes her now. This is his sister.]
[He missed her.]
. . . Okay.
[His voice is so terribly quiet, it's nearly inaudible. But it's his voice, not anyone else's. Just Giorno, not who he tries to be to anyone else, not the version of himself that tries to right wrongs.]
I believe you. It's just . . .
[He presses his lips together, hesitating, wavering on whether to say anything at all. After a moment, he shakes his head.]
Good intentions don't . . . mean good outcomes. It's not that simple. I wish it was, but . . .
[His hands curl into frustrated fists. Why is this so hard to articulate? He's supposed to be good at words.]
You've never — before, when you hurt people, no one else was involved. You didn't have to worry about collateral damage. And this — I know you didn't intend it to be, but that's what this is. You can't take care of . . . all of them all the time, Riley, you're one person and bad things happen to us all the time. What if you fall asleep again? What if something happens to change you for a while, because that happens all the time? What if you disappear? We'll help you, we'll all help, but I'm — scared—
[scared?]
Because what if it happens again? What's the plan? I have a plan now, for the— the orphanage, but what's stopping all of this from happening again? Even if you mean well, that's not . . . that doesn't fix everything.