The emotion, the betrayal, the love, and the forgiveness - or, if not quite forgiveness, then at least the ability to overlook and love regardless of the hurt - brought tears to Paddy's eyes. He didn't need the light show to see how beautiful everyone's souls were right at that moment. Although, he had to admit, the light show in and of itself was beautiful. It was a miracle, the purest form of God's love. The unconditional acceptance of someone so close as to be a brother. This was the most important part of anyone's recovery; knowing they still had people to lean on, people they could depend on, people who would help them whenever and however they needed it.
The spell solidifying meant more to Paddy than any of the men's jokes from before had. He didn't have to know exactly what Erskine Ravel's betrayal was to know that.
"I have a Dead Men story," Tanith murmured beside him, awestruck. "I am watching a Dead Men story unfold. This is... this is like meeting Gordon Edgley in person. This is amazing. This is the best story I will ever have... that I will never get to tell anyone else."
Paddy smiled. "The best stories are always the ones you're never able to repeat." The number of times he'd almost told his sister something about what her son was doing on the day Solomon and Dexter came over...
"How aren't you bursting?" Tanith asked. "You've just seen two people come back from the dead, and three Archangels, and all of this soul-leashing - and Lucifer. Don't you ever need someone to talk to?"
"About Lucifer? That wouldn't help anything, save making whatever poor soul I talk to needlessly panic."
"Needlessly?"
"Well, from what I've seen, you'll all have it well in hand. Am I wrong?"
Tanith's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, and then she slumped. "I guess we do have a weird talent for saving the world."
"And as for the rest, I don't need to tell anyone else to justify what I'm seeing. If ever I needed to ask a question or get something off my chest..." Paddy thought about it. "I suppose I could always call Solomon."
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The spell solidifying meant more to Paddy than any of the men's jokes from before had. He didn't have to know exactly what Erskine Ravel's betrayal was to know that.
"I have a Dead Men story," Tanith murmured beside him, awestruck. "I am watching a Dead Men story unfold. This is... this is like meeting Gordon Edgley in person. This is amazing. This is the best story I will ever have... that I will never get to tell anyone else."
Paddy smiled. "The best stories are always the ones you're never able to repeat." The number of times he'd almost told his sister something about what her son was doing on the day Solomon and Dexter came over...
"How aren't you bursting?" Tanith asked. "You've just seen two people come back from the dead, and three Archangels, and all of this soul-leashing - and Lucifer. Don't you ever need someone to talk to?"
"About Lucifer? That wouldn't help anything, save making whatever poor soul I talk to needlessly panic."
"Needlessly?"
"Well, from what I've seen, you'll all have it well in hand. Am I wrong?"
Tanith's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, and then she slumped. "I guess we do have a weird talent for saving the world."
"And as for the rest, I don't need to tell anyone else to justify what I'm seeing. If ever I needed to ask a question or get something off my chest..." Paddy thought about it. "I suppose I could always call Solomon."