[Dimitri’s already dismissed Dedue’s request to look at his injured eye twice, and Felix is scowling hard at the mess around them, questioning, when Ashe’s imploring reaches his ears. Something wavers in that one syllable, enough for his anger to step back and make way for concern. He steps over broken glass and pushes past clattered-over chairs as he makes his way over.
His mind works hard in his skull in those few passing moments, suddenly turning over a hundred possibilities why he'd detect distress in Ashe's voice. A headcount is the first thing that barrels to the surface, simple and easily prioritized, and a weighted stone sinks in his stomach when he realizes that they’re missing someone.
That better not be the case. That better not fucking be the reality, or he’ll—]
What is it? [He says, coming ‘round one of the bullet-ridden couches to better see what’s waiting for him in this corner. But his next words wither on his lips, the sight of his old friend staring up at him, dead-eyed, with crimson staining his front.
The whole world goes numb for a second. Dimitri does little more than stand, looking down at Sylvain with Ashe by his side. He looks like a shell, he looks wrong — like someone’s taken a copy of the man and wrung everything that made him Sylvain.
He’s not sure how long he’s stood speechless, but at some point, Felix has drawn close, his shock more visible on his face, the anger he spouts almost enough to pierce the veil hanging over Dimitri. He’s cursing, furious and cold, and the front door almost falls off its hinges when he bolts out and into the street in a vain, desperate attempt to catch up to whoever did this to them. Dimitri knows it’s a useless effort.
Someone’s talking to him. Dedue’s voice finally breaks past the white-noise storm in his head. ”…are we going to do now?” come the words, and the world snaps back into place. Dimitri looks at him, then at Ashe, pointedly ignoring Sylvain’s corpse.]
…Clean this mess up. The restaurant’s closed indefinitely until then. Call in help if you need to, and we’ll see if we can identify these bastards after the fact.
["And Sylvain?” Dedue’s face is like stone, with the small exception of an inscrutably wrinkled brow.
A muscle jumps in Dimitri’s jaw. To both of them-] Load up his body and bring him back to HQ. Does it even need to be said?
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His mind works hard in his skull in those few passing moments, suddenly turning over a hundred possibilities why he'd detect distress in Ashe's voice. A headcount is the first thing that barrels to the surface, simple and easily prioritized, and a weighted stone sinks in his stomach when he realizes that they’re missing someone.
That better not be the case. That better not fucking be the reality, or he’ll—]
What is it? [He says, coming ‘round one of the bullet-ridden couches to better see what’s waiting for him in this corner. But his next words wither on his lips, the sight of his old friend staring up at him, dead-eyed, with crimson staining his front.
The whole world goes numb for a second. Dimitri does little more than stand, looking down at Sylvain with Ashe by his side. He looks like a shell, he looks wrong — like someone’s taken a copy of the man and wrung everything that made him Sylvain.
He’s not sure how long he’s stood speechless, but at some point, Felix has drawn close, his shock more visible on his face, the anger he spouts almost enough to pierce the veil hanging over Dimitri. He’s cursing, furious and cold, and the front door almost falls off its hinges when he bolts out and into the street in a vain, desperate attempt to catch up to whoever did this to them. Dimitri knows it’s a useless effort.
Someone’s talking to him. Dedue’s voice finally breaks past the white-noise storm in his head. ”…are we going to do now?” come the words, and the world snaps back into place. Dimitri looks at him, then at Ashe, pointedly ignoring Sylvain’s corpse.]
…Clean this mess up. The restaurant’s closed indefinitely until then. Call in help if you need to, and we’ll see if we can identify these bastards after the fact.
["And Sylvain?” Dedue’s face is like stone, with the small exception of an inscrutably wrinkled brow.
A muscle jumps in Dimitri’s jaw. To both of them-] Load up his body and bring him back to HQ. Does it even need to be said?