This is all too reminiscent of when they were on the rooftops, when he was leading Tadashi back towards safety. This time, though, he can't just push Tadashi down- away, even, and the lack of escape is somewhat agitating all on its own.
He's dealt with this enough in the quiet of an empty room, why does it need to be brought up again? Moreover-
"...you don't understand. I can't tell if I do or don't my own-!"
There's a pain in his voice, the agony of someone faced with what should be a simple and easy decision. Logically, he knows what he's done; he's broken laws, he's taken steps to hurt people, he's taken steps to kill people and in one case succeeded, though it wasn't the one he was after. All of these, logically, should be horrific to him, and perhaps on some level they are- they go against what he's grown with, what he's learned over time, all these rules and boundaries that society sets in place for the greater good.
Emotionally? Krei never stopped cutting corners. There would have been more Abigails, more lost daughters and sons and children, but closer to home was his Abigail gone from his mistakes. A wrong demanded to be righted, damn the consequences, and he gave in to that and pushed against those boundaries as he gave in to his desire for vengeance and the need to fix this the only way he, as a man, as a father, could.
And then it was over. Abigail was back, but he'd lost a student, and everything he'd worked so hard for over the years. He was facing years in prison, the distress of what family he'd regained, and then-
-then an opening, and he couldn't help but take it because it felt as though he was drowning and it was the only lifeline he could see. He may barely be able to keep his head above the water, even now, but to do anything else is to let go of that rope and risk never coming back up at all.
no subject
He's dealt with this enough in the quiet of an empty room, why does it need to be brought up again? Moreover-
"...you don't understand. I can't tell if I do or don't my own-!"
There's a pain in his voice, the agony of someone faced with what should be a simple and easy decision. Logically, he knows what he's done; he's broken laws, he's taken steps to hurt people, he's taken steps to kill people and in one case succeeded, though it wasn't the one he was after. All of these, logically, should be horrific to him, and perhaps on some level they are- they go against what he's grown with, what he's learned over time, all these rules and boundaries that society sets in place for the greater good.
Emotionally? Krei never stopped cutting corners. There would have been more Abigails, more lost daughters and sons and children, but closer to home was his Abigail gone from his mistakes. A wrong demanded to be righted, damn the consequences, and he gave in to that and pushed against those boundaries as he gave in to his desire for vengeance and the need to fix this the only way he, as a man, as a father, could.
And then it was over. Abigail was back, but he'd lost a student, and everything he'd worked so hard for over the years. He was facing years in prison, the distress of what family he'd regained, and then-
-then an opening, and he couldn't help but take it because it felt as though he was drowning and it was the only lifeline he could see. He may barely be able to keep his head above the water, even now, but to do anything else is to let go of that rope and risk never coming back up at all.