John's voice seemed to be very far away, as though it were coming to him from a distance. His limbs felt heavy and disjointed and his tongue felt thick inside his mouth. What might have been tears burned at the back of his eyes but a cold voice inside his head whispered not in front of him and Raphael clamped down and didn't cry.
His mind pitched around wildly, from thoughts of those whom he'd let down, whom orders had prevented him from saving, to thoughts of Michael and the enormity of the other's emotion and the gravity of what he'd done by deceiving him. It had gotten far, fast, because he'd stoked a fire that had been burning for centuries and now it might devour them both.
As Constantine finished speaking Raphael's body went limp as a deflated ballon and he seemed to sag internally. Silly trite man with his silly trite words. He couldn't stop anything and it didn't matter to him anyway. He probably wanted it, even if he wouldn't admit it.
They all want it
"I hope you don't say anything," he said in a dull, muted tone, "But it's not as if it makes any sort of difference about the inevitable. It only buys time. And when it comes right down to it, I'm not sure you really do wish you had an answer. I am not your 'kind' by any stretch; why bother?"
He looked at the man, even though he was shorter and John's eyes were averted.
"He will come with me, you know. Regardless of whether I urge or not. He has promised. Isn't it terrible? He loves me more than Him... for nothing. For a straw house, an illusion that isn't there. But it won't stop. I refuse to be alone even if its costly; so when the time comes I will reach for his hand.
And if and when that day comes, do you think that either of us shall remember this place or its residents fondly? Crowley says that Falling changes one terribly; but somehow I think that at the base of it all hatred would be something we'd be allowed to recall."
He said everything in a monotonous, lifeless tone and his mouth felt very dry at the end of it. Then he gave the man a sad little smile.
"I will regret Gabriel, though. He cared - really cared. I hope I remember that as well."
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His mind pitched around wildly, from thoughts of those whom he'd let down, whom orders had prevented him from saving, to thoughts of Michael and the enormity of the other's emotion and the gravity of what he'd done by deceiving him. It had gotten far, fast, because he'd stoked a fire that had been burning for centuries and now it might devour them both.
As Constantine finished speaking Raphael's body went limp as a deflated ballon and he seemed to sag internally. Silly trite man with his silly trite words. He couldn't stop anything and it didn't matter to him anyway. He probably wanted it, even if he wouldn't admit it.
They all want it
"I hope you don't say anything," he said in a dull, muted tone, "But it's not as if it makes any sort of difference about the inevitable. It only buys time. And when it comes right down to it, I'm not sure you really do wish you had an answer. I am not your 'kind' by any stretch; why bother?"
He looked at the man, even though he was shorter and John's eyes were averted.
"He will come with me, you know. Regardless of whether I urge or not. He has promised. Isn't it terrible? He loves me more than Him... for nothing. For a straw house, an illusion that isn't there. But it won't stop. I refuse to be alone even if its costly; so when the time comes I will reach for his hand.
And if and when that day comes, do you think that either of us shall remember this place or its residents fondly? Crowley says that Falling changes one terribly; but somehow I think that at the base of it all hatred would be something we'd be allowed to recall."
He said everything in a monotonous, lifeless tone and his mouth felt very dry at the end of it. Then he gave the man a sad little smile.
"I will regret Gabriel, though. He cared - really cared. I hope I remember that as well."