For a long few moments, Skulduggery stared at Solomon in disbelief. Then he sat back against the armrest, shook his head, and laughed. "I won't argue with you there."
Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe Solomon would have a completely different reaction in the morning. But this wasn't an outright rejection, and Skulduggery would take what he could get.
Solomon was unconscious again. His breathing had evened out, his head turned back, the steady beeping of a heartrate monitor on his left slightly less insistent. Heartrate monitors. Skulduggery wasn't used to their presence anywhere near sorcerers. The steady beeping was really starting to become a nuisance, but he was fairly sure destroying the monitor would set off some kind of alarm somewhere.
Speaking of, didn't nurses make nighttime rounds? Skulduggery glanced towards the closed door, thought about it, and shrugged. If anyone did come in, he'd just have to do what he did best - improvise.
"I guess this means you believe Gabe's an Archangel," he murmured, looking back to the bed. "In fact, now that I'm thinking about it, your reason for destroying your cane is probably entirely selfish. But that's alright. I won't hold it against you."
Solomon didn't move.
"You were going to kill three billion people," Skulduggery added. There was no anger in his tone, no disappointment - not much of anything. Just like when he'd answered Solomon's questions, his tone was level. "That, I do hold against you. I don't know how long you knew about the Passage, but I do remember you telling me there was nothing dangerous about Necromancy. Multiple times. How many of those times were you knowingly lying to me?"
He knew that he'd lost Solomon a long time ago. Skulduggery just hadn't known the extent of that loss. And now that an opportunity to get him back was suddenly presenting itself, he had no idea how to feel.
No idea how to feel. That was becoming a running theme today.
Solomon still hadn't moved. Skulduggery watched the man silently, with a short flash of irritation at each infernal beep of the machine, before sighing, and allowing his tone to become flat. "How would you react if I told you an Archangel was in love with me?"
No change from the bed, or from the heartrate monitor. Solomon was well and truly unconscious. That suited Skulduggery just fine.
"I should have seen it. I should have realised, but I didn't. He kept dodging the question every time I asked why he singled me out, and... I really should have seen this sooner. Why didn't I? Because he's an Archangel? Never make assumptions about religion, I've always said. Never assume Archangels are any different from the rest of us."
He paused, let the sound of Solomon's heartrate fill the hospital room for a second, and then laughed again. "I've gone completely nuts."
Several months in a dimension getting tortured by Faceless Ones - not to mention everything that happened before that with Landel. Who was to say Skulduggery wasn't still running through that sun-bleached city? Hadn't suffered a complete psychotic break? Who was to say he'd never escaped the Institute at all, and this was another of Landel's twisted experiments?
He nodded to himself. "Two shovels short of a gardening shed. One cent short of a euro. The wheel is turning, but the hamster is dead. Solomon, I think it's best if I stopped talking for the night."
Solomon didn't answer, but Skulduggery went silent anyway. That, he decided, was how the night was going to pass. In silence.
About an hour later, he changed his mind and started humming softly, the same song, over and over again. 'Rare Auld Times,' by the Dubliners.
no subject
Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe Solomon would have a completely different reaction in the morning. But this wasn't an outright rejection, and Skulduggery would take what he could get.
Solomon was unconscious again. His breathing had evened out, his head turned back, the steady beeping of a heartrate monitor on his left slightly less insistent. Heartrate monitors. Skulduggery wasn't used to their presence anywhere near sorcerers. The steady beeping was really starting to become a nuisance, but he was fairly sure destroying the monitor would set off some kind of alarm somewhere.
Speaking of, didn't nurses make nighttime rounds? Skulduggery glanced towards the closed door, thought about it, and shrugged. If anyone did come in, he'd just have to do what he did best - improvise.
"I guess this means you believe Gabe's an Archangel," he murmured, looking back to the bed. "In fact, now that I'm thinking about it, your reason for destroying your cane is probably entirely selfish. But that's alright. I won't hold it against you."
Solomon didn't move.
"You were going to kill three billion people," Skulduggery added. There was no anger in his tone, no disappointment - not much of anything. Just like when he'd answered Solomon's questions, his tone was level. "That, I do hold against you. I don't know how long you knew about the Passage, but I do remember you telling me there was nothing dangerous about Necromancy. Multiple times. How many of those times were you knowingly lying to me?"
He knew that he'd lost Solomon a long time ago. Skulduggery just hadn't known the extent of that loss. And now that an opportunity to get him back was suddenly presenting itself, he had no idea how to feel.
No idea how to feel. That was becoming a running theme today.
Solomon still hadn't moved. Skulduggery watched the man silently, with a short flash of irritation at each infernal beep of the machine, before sighing, and allowing his tone to become flat. "How would you react if I told you an Archangel was in love with me?"
No change from the bed, or from the heartrate monitor. Solomon was well and truly unconscious. That suited Skulduggery just fine.
"I should have seen it. I should have realised, but I didn't. He kept dodging the question every time I asked why he singled me out, and... I really should have seen this sooner. Why didn't I? Because he's an Archangel? Never make assumptions about religion, I've always said. Never assume Archangels are any different from the rest of us."
He paused, let the sound of Solomon's heartrate fill the hospital room for a second, and then laughed again. "I've gone completely nuts."
Several months in a dimension getting tortured by Faceless Ones - not to mention everything that happened before that with Landel. Who was to say Skulduggery wasn't still running through that sun-bleached city? Hadn't suffered a complete psychotic break? Who was to say he'd never escaped the Institute at all, and this was another of Landel's twisted experiments?
He nodded to himself. "Two shovels short of a gardening shed. One cent short of a euro. The wheel is turning, but the hamster is dead. Solomon, I think it's best if I stopped talking for the night."
Solomon didn't answer, but Skulduggery went silent anyway. That, he decided, was how the night was going to pass. In silence.
About an hour later, he changed his mind and started humming softly, the same song, over and over again. 'Rare Auld Times,' by the Dubliners.