Char always had been the kind to bear bitterness for a long time. He'd made no secret of his resentment towards Red and his team, and much of it had stemmed from that loss years ago -- he'd never forgiven them for the way that had hurt Green, nor for the callous, infuriating way that they refused to ever acknowledge that hurt in the least. As years went by, though, that sting started to fade. Not because of any forgiveness on his part or any apology on Red's, but simply because it became clear this was a lot like the grudge he bore to Aiden: one he'd never really get a resolution to, because he was the only one who felt wronged.
Still, as long as that grudge had been around, he'd questioned what had just happened. At first, he'd wondered if it had been entirely in his head, just his bitter, spiteful nature imagining things. Vinnie's reaction, however, made it clear. That was real. All his resentful supposing had been spot on: they hadn't mattered in the least. They were pointless.
A more logical mind might suppose that what was true years ago may not have been true now, but with their history as conflicted as it had been, it was much harder for a Lonely heart to give it the benefit of the doubt. Betrayal cut him and cut him deep, and this -- having such a shattering blow pulled out of him only to find out it'd barely been an afterthought to Vinnie -- felt like a betrayal. It felt... ridiculous. Humiliating, even. All that time spent trying so hard to be Vinnie's equal, all those shaky steps and that effort to understand him, his endeavours now to not rock the boat and let him nose his way uninterrupted into Char's family... he'd been trying so hard for someone who'd written them off as an annoyance.
He couldn't begin to piece the words together, at first, but the noise of the shattering mug broke the spell of silence, and broke it thoroughly. Ignoring the puddle of hot tea, Char stepped forward, ceramic fragments crunching under his feet. "Wasn't just in my imagination, was it?" He demanded -- not just talking about the strange exchange of memories, but the message in them: exactly how little their efforts had meant.
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Still, as long as that grudge had been around, he'd questioned what had just happened. At first, he'd wondered if it had been entirely in his head, just his bitter, spiteful nature imagining things. Vinnie's reaction, however, made it clear. That was real. All his resentful supposing had been spot on: they hadn't mattered in the least. They were pointless.
A more logical mind might suppose that what was true years ago may not have been true now, but with their history as conflicted as it had been, it was much harder for a Lonely heart to give it the benefit of the doubt. Betrayal cut him and cut him deep, and this -- having such a shattering blow pulled out of him only to find out it'd barely been an afterthought to Vinnie -- felt like a betrayal. It felt... ridiculous. Humiliating, even. All that time spent trying so hard to be Vinnie's equal, all those shaky steps and that effort to understand him, his endeavours now to not rock the boat and let him nose his way uninterrupted into Char's family... he'd been trying so hard for someone who'd written them off as an annoyance.
He couldn't begin to piece the words together, at first, but the noise of the shattering mug broke the spell of silence, and broke it thoroughly. Ignoring the puddle of hot tea, Char stepped forward, ceramic fragments crunching under his feet. "Wasn't just in my imagination, was it?" He demanded -- not just talking about the strange exchange of memories, but the message in them: exactly how little their efforts had meant.