[ It's a shame Aziraphale wasn't around to put it into words. It's not like how humans use the term, but it's definitely Love. But if Aziraphale's the type of dog that runs up to the nearest person and loves them unconditionally, Will's the kind that picks two people and attempts to attack anyone outside of that. The human race is certainly capable of Good, sure, but after spending so long seeing the Bad they can do, he's incapable of feeling the type of Love that proper angels do.
But with those specific three idiots, he can remember it. Alex probably doesn't get the whole thing. It'd be hard to put into better words. But it slots into place Enough when he answers "Okay". It gets past the stinging in his hands, a small chunk of some ever-present anxiety lifts, and that's good enough to work with for now. He's in the middle of some word that only gets through a single syllable before scratching to a stop.
Wait.
Hands.
Okay, no, rewind. Something infinitely wrong just happened there. There's a short moment spent doing the most basic hand exercise; make a fist, release, curl each finger in and out like a wave. It's the same there-yet-distant feeling of a program running with no errors. It is his hand, but yet.
No amount of time disorientation will erase That Day. Bernkastel ripped his arm off a year ago. He hasn't had feeling since.
Which means it's not His. Alex is forgotten in favor of mentally running over a DOS readout. One Contract, no ceremonies. Maya is physically fine. Lion is physically fine. Alex has damage i-
no subject
But with those specific three idiots, he can remember it. Alex probably doesn't get the whole thing. It'd be hard to put into better words. But it slots into place Enough when he answers "Okay". It gets past the stinging in his hands, a small chunk of some ever-present anxiety lifts, and that's good enough to work with for now. He's in the middle of some word that only gets through a single syllable before scratching to a stop.
Wait.
Hands.
Okay, no, rewind. Something infinitely wrong just happened there. There's a short moment spent doing the most basic hand exercise; make a fist, release, curl each finger in and out like a wave. It's the same there-yet-distant feeling of a program running with no errors. It is his hand, but yet.
No amount of time disorientation will erase That Day. Bernkastel ripped his arm off a year ago. He hasn't had feeling since.
Which means it's not His. Alex is forgotten in favor of mentally running over a DOS readout. One Contract, no ceremonies. Maya is physically fine. Lion is physically fine. Alex has damage i-
And it clicks. ] Dammit all, again?!