Envy nods into the top of Wrath's head. He's not usually one for long embraces, but this...this is a special case. Right now, he really doesn't want to let go.
"Yeah...yeah, I know. Going through the Gate's the last thing I remember."
They were already holding each other pretty tightly, but he does squeeze a little tighter for a second. He knows there's more for him, that it's possible he'll be sent back to find it out one day, whether it's by vanishing or by one of those long dreaming sleeps. But that's not important right now, so he thinks.
But yes, he knows what Wrath had done. He knows why he was making those frantic apologies to Lust. Envy's so relieved that he has already known, that he already went through being angry over it and then let go of that years ago. Now he knows the whole thing was just...sad. All of them fighting each other, killing each other, and for what? His rotting mother's immortality?
Wrath hadn't even been alive a year, when he'd done it. Sloth had been four. Lust, fourteen. Not a single one of the people fighting to the death in that warehouse had hit twenty years old.
It was the same idea Heather had always pushed him on when it came to Al, even if human ages hadn't ever meant the same to homunculi in that literal sense. Wrath was an actual kid.
"I know what happened. I already knew when you came the first time...it's okay. You didn't know any better. I'm not mad at you anymore, neither of us are."
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"Yeah...yeah, I know. Going through the Gate's the last thing I remember."
They were already holding each other pretty tightly, but he does squeeze a little tighter for a second. He knows there's more for him, that it's possible he'll be sent back to find it out one day, whether it's by vanishing or by one of those long dreaming sleeps. But that's not important right now, so he thinks.
But yes, he knows what Wrath had done. He knows why he was making those frantic apologies to Lust. Envy's so relieved that he has already known, that he already went through being angry over it and then let go of that years ago. Now he knows the whole thing was just...sad. All of them fighting each other, killing each other, and for what? His rotting mother's immortality?
Wrath hadn't even been alive a year, when he'd done it. Sloth had been four. Lust, fourteen. Not a single one of the people fighting to the death in that warehouse had hit twenty years old.
It was the same idea Heather had always pushed him on when it came to Al, even if human ages hadn't ever meant the same to homunculi in that literal sense. Wrath was an actual kid.
"I know what happened. I already knew when you came the first time...it's okay. You didn't know any better. I'm not mad at you anymore, neither of us are."