The mask cracked. Nunnally-- no, Lelouch couldn't afford to show any weaknesses now. What Suzaku was suggesting probably wouldn't hurt the time line in the same way averting F.L.E.I.A. would have, but there were so many different variables-- couldn't he see that fighting against it like this was only making it harder for Lelouch to accept? He didn't even want to accept it, not when everything he'd built up so carefully over his entire life would be torn away if he went through with this, but if he let those selfish desires dictate his actions, he'd be no better than his parents. He may as well have been already when it meant giving up on saving Nunnally, but if he could--
He turned away again, disgusted with both himself and Suzaku. Lelouch wanted to save his sister so badly, to save all of them, but those uncertainties-- was there even a way to get rid of them? He'd tried finding one earlier on the bulletin, but that research had proven to be inconclusive at best. Maybe if he did more-- but was he only fooling himself? His disgust grew even further. If his own beliefs could be cast into doubt this easily, they couldn't have been worth anything in the first place, but if he'd been right and giving in meant damning everyone to his parents' world...
Resisting the urge to rake his hand through his hair or cross his arms over his chest again, Lelouch turned back to Suzaku and gave him a long look. During that short interval, he'd managed to chase away most of the emotions that had been slowly creeping their way back onto his face, but not all of them. If he hadn't broken down already, now would have been the time to do it, but once was more than enough.
"Suzaku..." he began slowly instead, giving up the cold routine for now but still restraining himself from showing too much. "I can swear to you that I will try to find a way, but you know as well as I do that unless we can know for absolute certain, I can't take that kind of risk. This concerns more than you or me or Nunnally, don't you see? Even the smallest change could ensure that my parents succeed, and while there may be a way around that, the amount of information I would need to calculate it--" He broke off, his features twisting with worry and pain. If a butterfly flapping its wings could cause hurricanes halfway across the world, what could something like this do? Ragnarok. The death of the gods. The end of everything that was new and a retreat into the world of the past. Nunnally never would have wanted that.
"Don't ask me again," he ordered, looking away. "I already-- just don't."
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He turned away again, disgusted with both himself and Suzaku. Lelouch wanted to save his sister so badly, to save all of them, but those uncertainties-- was there even a way to get rid of them? He'd tried finding one earlier on the bulletin, but that research had proven to be inconclusive at best. Maybe if he did more-- but was he only fooling himself? His disgust grew even further. If his own beliefs could be cast into doubt this easily, they couldn't have been worth anything in the first place, but if he'd been right and giving in meant damning everyone to his parents' world...
Resisting the urge to rake his hand through his hair or cross his arms over his chest again, Lelouch turned back to Suzaku and gave him a long look. During that short interval, he'd managed to chase away most of the emotions that had been slowly creeping their way back onto his face, but not all of them. If he hadn't broken down already, now would have been the time to do it, but once was more than enough.
"Suzaku..." he began slowly instead, giving up the cold routine for now but still restraining himself from showing too much. "I can swear to you that I will try to find a way, but you know as well as I do that unless we can know for absolute certain, I can't take that kind of risk. This concerns more than you or me or Nunnally, don't you see? Even the smallest change could ensure that my parents succeed, and while there may be a way around that, the amount of information I would need to calculate it--" He broke off, his features twisting with worry and pain. If a butterfly flapping its wings could cause hurricanes halfway across the world, what could something like this do? Ragnarok. The death of the gods. The end of everything that was new and a retreat into the world of the past. Nunnally never would have wanted that.
"Don't ask me again," he ordered, looking away. "I already-- just don't."