That's the way these things go. The worst part isn't the happening; it's the aftermath, when the dust has settled and the tide receded and you're left in the ash and mud with all the awkward, uncomfortable consequences. We have stories upon stories about tragedies. Not so many about what happens once you're left behind.

Dimitri winces at Darcy's explanation. That would do it. "I'm sorry. I can't imagine what that must be like." (At least Dedue is his own person. As awful as it feels to be apart from him, Dimitri has to wonder if it's not for the best. Like being stripped of his Crest, maybe, but even that would feel like a twisted blessing.) This whole scenario has been precisely tailored to recall the worst for each of them.

... perhaps not by coincidence, Dimitri thinks, recalling his conversation with Ossie. 'Hurt people hurt people,' the saying goes, but that's usually meant for wilful acts of harm -- not this, the incidental casualties of overlapping pain. Dimitri's tone darkens, and his body tenses. "You told me the Captain would torture us. Now I understand what you meant."

A severed limb still twitches in his peripheral vision, but it's not attached to anyone. Steadier, now, it's easier for him to ignore.