Barney wasn't struck dumb so much by the words, as by the fact that the man didn't deny any of it.
Not that he should. Not that he would even have a reason to. It was just that most people would; most people would at least say something along the lines of 'It's fine, I'm not here to hurt you.' Start off an explanation by defending themselves, or by reassuring Barney, or at the very least confessing that, yes, there was something more to it.
He didn't. Dad, Grandad, whatever. And the question wasn't a dodge, either. Something about the man's eyes, the way he looked at Barney, like he was really and truly interested in what the answer was. Like the answer was the only thing that mattered. Somewhere in the back of Barney's mind, an unattainable thought flickered.
"Honestly?" he asked. "I'd love it if you really were Santa."
Ghastly blinked. "Of course I remember. I'm over 400. I don't have Alzheimer's."
He paused, and then the smile he gave was a gentle one. Whether it was gentle for Allie's benefit or for his own, he wasn't sure. "If something is ghastly," he tried to explain, "it doesn't mean no one should like it. It just means that you have to look deeper than the outward appearance to find something that's worth liking. It's hard for people to do now, but it was especially hard back then. That was my way of reminding people."
He'd come up with the name before realising any of that, of course. Like with any sorcerer who took their names seriously, Ghastly could feel it clicking into place, feel the magic of the seal around his given name that it provided. It wasn't until later that Ghastly really thought about it, and understood why the name fit him so well.
no subject
Not that he should. Not that he would even have a reason to. It was just that most people would; most people would at least say something along the lines of 'It's fine, I'm not here to hurt you.' Start off an explanation by defending themselves, or by reassuring Barney, or at the very least confessing that, yes, there was something more to it.
He didn't. Dad, Grandad, whatever. And the question wasn't a dodge, either. Something about the man's eyes, the way he looked at Barney, like he was really and truly interested in what the answer was. Like the answer was the only thing that mattered. Somewhere in the back of Barney's mind, an unattainable thought flickered.
"Honestly?" he asked. "I'd love it if you really were Santa."
Ghastly blinked. "Of course I remember. I'm over 400. I don't have Alzheimer's."
He paused, and then the smile he gave was a gentle one. Whether it was gentle for Allie's benefit or for his own, he wasn't sure. "If something is ghastly," he tried to explain, "it doesn't mean no one should like it. It just means that you have to look deeper than the outward appearance to find something that's worth liking. It's hard for people to do now, but it was especially hard back then. That was my way of reminding people."
He'd come up with the name before realising any of that, of course. Like with any sorcerer who took their names seriously, Ghastly could feel it clicking into place, feel the magic of the seal around his given name that it provided. It wasn't until later that Ghastly really thought about it, and understood why the name fit him so well.