[ He doesn't complain about being scooped up, nor about being handed over. He is used to having his decisions made for him, at this point in his life. It's just a relief not to have been ignored, not to have to try to explain himself, in the midst of all of this urgent chaos.
The same way that he's relieved to see that it is his mother, after all, who takes him up with her into the open side of the vertibird, all at once a clear and detailed memory. The soldiers with her are the same, as some clear, crisp-edged glimpse of the past leaches back into the surreality of the dream. Arcade bears the woman holding him no specific, immediately recognizable resemblance - he takes after his father in those ways. But it's obvious who she is, just the same. She has the same haunted, sharp-edged gaze, the same furrow in her brow.
She says nothing to Danse, or anyone else, looking beyond him at whatever it was they did see, as the vertibird lifts off and begins to leave the known world behind. One of the soldiers begins to say something, standing at the edge, the toe of his boot hanging over into open air—
Arcade wakes with a start, fumbling first to escape the layers of his makeshift bedroll and then for his glasses, in the dark. Eventually, he manages to shake the stark, vivid terror of his dream (because that's all it was, in the end, and letting himself get so worked up over it is silly, childish), but he knows even as he manages to find some measure of composure again that he won't be falling back to sleep, tonight. ]
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The same way that he's relieved to see that it is his mother, after all, who takes him up with her into the open side of the vertibird, all at once a clear and detailed memory. The soldiers with her are the same, as some clear, crisp-edged glimpse of the past leaches back into the surreality of the dream. Arcade bears the woman holding him no specific, immediately recognizable resemblance - he takes after his father in those ways. But it's obvious who she is, just the same. She has the same haunted, sharp-edged gaze, the same furrow in her brow.
She says nothing to Danse, or anyone else, looking beyond him at whatever it was they did see, as the vertibird lifts off and begins to leave the known world behind. One of the soldiers begins to say something, standing at the edge, the toe of his boot hanging over into open air—
Arcade wakes with a start, fumbling first to escape the layers of his makeshift bedroll and then for his glasses, in the dark. Eventually, he manages to shake the stark, vivid terror of his dream (because that's all it was, in the end, and letting himself get so worked up over it is silly, childish), but he knows even as he manages to find some measure of composure again that he won't be falling back to sleep, tonight. ]