towerofanimus | Given time you'll understand

Entry tags:

Given time you'll understand

Characters: Archer (

swordedpast) and Saber Alter (

scorchedchivalry)
Setting: Outside room 01-09, February 22nd.
Format: Prose to start, may change as the log continues.
Summary: In the wake of Rin's death in dreams, Archer turns to Saber Alter to make sense of things.
Warnings: Nothing concrete, just angst and references to death for now.

He's been brooding since Rin disappeared into dreams, where he couldn't follow. He slept a little during that time, trying to perceive her dreams, but received only fragments and was unable to do anything to help. In the end, she slipped further away from him into coma and death, and so now he broods even harder.

Now that she's back, Archer wants to help her. He always wants to help her, as poorly as he shows it sometimes. But there's too much awareness in his mind of all the things he's been trying to deny. How different she is from his former Master, and yet how similar. How little he's been able to do to support her since they made their pact. All of that, and more--

He broods some more in the hallways of the dormitories, and he takes his frustration out on monsters, and as morning comes, he finds his feet drawing him somewhere he's only passed before. The room with a familiar title on its nameplate. He doesn't understand at first why he's brought himself here, but after a moment he remembers: he saw Saber in that dream of Rin's. She might be hurt herself, or she might know something more about what happened. That's the only reason he wants to see her. It's not at all because as the person who was once his star, she might be able to put him back on track. He was never on track, anyway.

Archer fades into spirit form and waits in the hall for Saber Alter to appear. She'll sense him soon enough, he knows.

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Saber was on her way back to her room to check on her cat when she felt the presence of another servant. One she couldn't see. Saber had never been capable of spirit form, so she never thought much about whether it was useful in the Tower or not.

"Is there really any point in using that form when I can feel you anyways?"

She asks this to the air, not sure exactly which servant was around, as she paused at her door.

He fades back into existence as simply as that. One moment he's nothing, the next he's a red-cloaked man leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "If you're the only one I want to see right now, it's perfect."

It doesn't even occur to him that she might not have known it was him. It's Saber. She always knows, doesn't she?

"So, did you suffer the same fate as my Master in those dreams?" He might as well get straight to the point. That is the point, he's certain. Mostly certain.

If she'd had to guess, she would've chosen Archer as the one waiting, but it didn't matter. Saber opened her door and beckoned Archer to follow her, scooping the black cat up before she escaped out into the hallway.

"I do not know what became of Rin after I woke up. I was barely in the dreamscape for more than a half an hour." She sat down on the bed, cat curling up in her lap. "I did warn Rin to be careful and not linger long there."

"Practical as always, Saber." He follows her in, sparing a brief glance for the cat. "I can't say the same for Rin. I caught glimpses of her experiences there, but no more, and then she was out of my grasp." His voice goes flat. "You say you warned her, but it seems she cared little for your advice. She died in there."

He's trying to keep his expression neutral, but bitterness twists his mouth downwards.

"I am not surprised. Rin rarely heeds any advice that is not of her own creation." Saber idly pet the cat. "She also does not see death here as anything of concern. If I were a gambling man, I would have bet she did not even take the game seriously."

So much for keeping the frustration and worry off his face. "Tch--" Archer bites back a snarl. "Why? It might be a sorry excuse for a life here, but it's not like her to care so little for it anyway."

This is what he really came to ask about, of course. He doesn't want to admit it, but it is. And as always, he tips his hand too easily to Saber.

Hand stilling, Saber met his eyes steadily, coming to a realization

"You cannot separate the Rin that is here with the Rin we both know. Until you can do that, you will never be able to serve her properly."

His eyes flash with near-panic at Saber's blunt statement--that, and the memory it recalls of the administrators' recent casual reminders about the nature of the different worlds. Can it be true? It can't be. But he covers it up. He covers it up and he lies.

"Don't underestimate me so. I know that Rin Matou is not Rin Tohsaka." His stance, the way he juts his chin--they're familiarly stubborn. "But she's Rin enough that I'm bound to serve her, properly or not, and it's irritating to see my Master like this. Or worse--"

He catches himself before he can say more about that.

It was indeed familiar. Almost irritatingly so.

"Knowing does not stop you from treating her and expecting her to react as the Rin we know," Saber pointed out. "That may very well make it harder for the two of you to coexist. And what were you going to say?"

The way the brief light in his eyes faded when she prodded him about his unspoken words was less familiar, though. He sighed. "I speak of last month, Saber. When we thought years or more had passed. She was really broken then, and it didn't sit well with me at all."

He seemed to be putting it mildly.

"I believe that was because you attempted to kill her." Saber frowned. "I saw to her and kept her from deteriorating completely."

His breath hitched as he tried to reply. "Of course--I'd failed." And something strange slipped out of him in response.

"Is that what this is really about?" Saber knew failure well.

And then he was back to glaring. "'Really' about? Do you think I'd come to you and lie and evade and feint, Saber?" He drew up his shoulders and started to sneer, to show what he thought of that idea.

The expression faltered. He sighed. "Unfortunately, you're probably right." His shoulders slumped. "Damn...!"

"I know you too well," she pointed out. "You do realize that her death in the dreamscape is not the fault of yours, correct?"

It wasn't as if Rin could've summoned Archer to aid her. Saber hadn't had access to her prana there, so she assumed the same of Rin; the knight hadn't been there long enough to know that had changed.

That might have been the wrong button to push. Archer's eyes flashed with anger. "Why wasn't I there? Why did I remain awake while she slept? I should have been at her side!" His fists curled at his sides, and he didn't entirely seem to be talking about the dreamscape alone.

"What should have been and what had been are never the same." He should know that. "While in the dreamscape, she and I had no access to our prana. She was no more powerful than a normal human. As was the case with me. She could not have summoned you even if she wanted."

Which Saber was fairly certain Rin did not want.

"You must temper your words and emotion, Archer, lest you reveal yourself to her as the boy you once were."

Frustration twists up his face at that first chiding comment of hers. That only irritates him more; why can't he keep his remorseless mask on right now? Why doesn't he even have the strength to do that?

He certainly doesn't have the strength to hold back the words that spill out next. "Reveal myself to her...? Hah, that'd never happen, Saber. She barely knows him. He died in her world, you know...she didn't save him when she could have."

"I am aware of that." She tilted her head a little. "And she holds absolutely no respect for that boy."

His lip curled against his teeth. "You think she has any reason to respect me either? How ridiculous. She doesn't, you know..."

He started to catch himself. He almost managed it. Then his gaze wavered, and he started to crumble.

"In the world she dreamed up of the future, I could do nothing to stop her fall. In this world, she turns to a Lancer who gives his name freely and with honor for what her own Servant is not good enough for. And in the world I came from--"

His voice shook like his breath.

A darkness flared in Saber's eyes. "That Lancer is not what he seems. He gave his honor up when he cursed a king in his anger when his own master betrayed him. He is nothing but a tool for Rin. I am the one she turns to when you cannot provide. Because we are both tainted by the same thing."

A pause. "You must not take those future worlds as anything other than the creations of the Administrators. They were not of our own."

That darkness and the words that followed it gave Archer pause. But only for a moment. Then he laughed bitterly. "Is that so? The administrators created a world for each of us, then. It's pure coincidence that mine was a wistful fantasy, the kind of thing that'd be dreamed up by someone who only knows lies, and hers a more likely truth, right? I cannot save her because I didn't save her, Saber...!"

He caught his breath there, but he continued before she could stop him for lack of sense. "You don't believe the worlds are destroyed, I know. But you've said it. You and Rin are both tainted. Why...? Why would the only two people left worth anything in the world be so corrupted, if I hadn't failed somehow? There's only one way left to me to fail, you know. I let the world be destroyed--but it's fine, Saber, it's fine because if I can save her here, I'll make up for it." The hysteria in his voice was overwhelming now. "That's how it works, right? There's a reason for this--it can't simply be that I was saved again when so many others died--"

Saber listened to Archer's ravings, taking them all in... and she pitied him. She let it go for a bit before she had to interrupt.

"Silence, Shirou Emiya."

Her words hit him like a slap, like the flat of her blade, like a practice sword slammed into his body a long time ago.

All further speech dried up in his throat.

He wanted to protest, of course. He wasn't that kid anymore. But recognition quickly shone in his eyes: here in the Tower, returning to all of Shirou's old wishful delusions of a world where every person waited for him to save them was exactly what he'd been doing.

Archer slumped back against the wall, glowering sullenly at Saber. He looked petulant, but it was a sight better than how he'd been a moment ago.

"That is better."

Saber let the silence linger for a moment longer before speaking again.

"You always have tried to be the hero. Not once do I think you ever understood what it meant to be a hero. And I am unsure if you ever will if you insist on trying to make up for what you see as your own failure by trying to save Rin from herself."

"I understand it well enough." The desperation was gone from his eyes now; only the usual hollowness stood in its place.

He straightened up. "But that won't matter if I can't understand her."

Archer felt an awareness lurking at the back of his head, a grasp of just what was happening to Rin that he'd been denying while hellbent on saving her to atone for his own sins. He wasn't sure he wanted to meet it.

"...are you sure you want to understand her?"

Saber understood Rin and she wasn't sure Archer could handle all that Rin Matou was.

"I can't save her if I don't understand her, Saber."

He spoke bluntly this time, simply, without either madness or wistfulness. There was something of that long-ago boy in him, but also something far more weary and resigned. "She isn't Rin Tohsaka, but she's my Master nonetheless. It's not as if I'm not already disgraced a million times over, so this isn't about dignity or anything stupid like that. It's just that I serve a Master who needs help."

"That was not an answer to my question," Saber pointed out. "You are correct in that you cannot save her if you do not understands her."

But understanding Rin Matou would destroy so much of what Archer thought and believed. He would learn then that he would never be able to save her.

"But are you sure you want to understand her?"

He didn't flinch away or glare or rave. He just met her gaze. "I don't want anything." It wasn't a lie. He'd lost the ability to have ordinary desires a very long time ago. "But I need to understand her. There's a difference."

"There is." Saber returned her attention to her cat, scritching her behind the ears. "Just remember that when you learn things you would rather have not known."

She sighed softly. "There is a reason they say ignorance is bliss."

"Ignorance is bliss until you walk off the cliff you weren't looking at," Archer says sharply. "Anyway, I'm not ignorant enough to be blissful anymore, so why leave any stone unturned?"

A frown tugged at his mouth. "What is it that's wrong with her?" Something glimmering in his eyes said that he sort of knew. That he had the pieces to put it together. And yet...

That didn't mean there still weren't things he wouldn't wish he didn't know.

"It is not my place to speak of it."

Frustration flashed in his eyes, but beneath it was humility. This was Saber; he wouldn't push her on this subject. "Fine. I'll learn it sooner or later anyway, and I'll find a way to fix it. It's just what I need to do as her Servant."

And with a last glance at Saber and the cat she held, he turned to leave the room.

Saber waited until Archer was gone before commenting to her cat.

"...no, it is not. He does not see with open eyes, Amy. And I will not force his eyes open. Only she can," she mused, petting the cat.

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Given time you'll understand

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