The promise - it all fits into place so nicely now. He would have never made Special Officer without pushing, without going far beyond what was expected. He had to become what he hated; he had to hurt and subjugate in order to fit in and then eventually rise above. He had to be more than the British men around him, he had to be crueler, adhere closer to the rules, enforce with an iron fist. He had to be better than them, or else nothing would succeed.
The promise. What a goddamn thing to have to promise to a dying father, the father that you yourself had to shoot. What a thing to do to a thirteen-year-old. He’s inherently horrified by it, disgusted by himself for such a harsh judgement made so quickly.
But he was just a boy.
Another aspect of Raju’s personality becomes clear. If Raju is here, then he can’t fulfill that promise to his father, his village, Seetha. No wonder…no wonder he feels as he feels. No wonder he keeps it all so bottled up that it erupts from him in literal flames.
Crozier’s throat feels thick, a lump forming right behind his vocal cords. He sits back, heavy with the weight of everything he’d just learned about this man he’d been living with for months. With this man that he…
How could Raju possibly feel anything in return for someone who never understood his sacrifices? Some Irishman who wanted to rise in the ranks and be one of them, marry into them, be seen as English more than anything in the world even though he’d never be equal to them in their eyes.
He looks down at himself, his reddened hand and the mangled stump, and blinks very slowly.
“I understand,” he tells him softly. “I understand everything now.”
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2024-06-12 01:45 pm (UTC)The promise - it all fits into place so nicely now. He would have never made Special Officer without pushing, without going far beyond what was expected. He had to become what he hated; he had to hurt and subjugate in order to fit in and then eventually rise above. He had to be more than the British men around him, he had to be crueler, adhere closer to the rules, enforce with an iron fist. He had to be better than them, or else nothing would succeed.
The promise. What a goddamn thing to have to promise to a dying father, the father that you yourself had to shoot. What a thing to do to a thirteen-year-old. He’s inherently horrified by it, disgusted by himself for such a harsh judgement made so quickly.
But he was just a boy.
Another aspect of Raju’s personality becomes clear. If Raju is here, then he can’t fulfill that promise to his father, his village, Seetha. No wonder…no wonder he feels as he feels. No wonder he keeps it all so bottled up that it erupts from him in literal flames.
Crozier’s throat feels thick, a lump forming right behind his vocal cords. He sits back, heavy with the weight of everything he’d just learned about this man he’d been living with for months. With this man that he…
How could Raju possibly feel anything in return for someone who never understood his sacrifices? Some Irishman who wanted to rise in the ranks and be one of them, marry into them, be seen as English more than anything in the world even though he’d never be equal to them in their eyes.
He looks down at himself, his reddened hand and the mangled stump, and blinks very slowly.
“I understand,” he tells him softly. “I understand everything now.”