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 Posted: Thu Dec 15, 2016 2:58 pm
"I don't mind." he said. "It would be something useful I could do, something that wouldn't hurt people." He nodded. "And I don't mind if she comes down with you, she'll need to get familiar with people."
In spite of his profession he'd never been one for animals, he tolerated dogs but that was all, cats responded well to being tolerated too.
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Posted: Thu Dec 15, 2016 3:05 pm
The days continued to pass, too quickly, and some part of Rodney wished it called for a much longer time, that Lawrence could have the rest of his natural life to decide...
But always he was reminded, it would only be a small delay, mattering to no one (but him and Lawrence).
And there was a heavy weight of victims, past and future, whose own souls felt sometimes physically intwined with the flames that danced around the demon on his right arm.
For now, he had the other Work, preparing for the treatment and care of the Lawrence's body.
"Would you like to see it?" He asked one day, Butch in tow. "The statue."
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Posted: Thu Dec 15, 2016 3:11 pm
Life had changed in the room for Lawrence, his routine had altered, everything had altered. Where once he'd have been out, looking for new victims, casing every passer by on the street for their vulnerability, he found himself instead forced to finally take stock of himself. Where once he'd been looking outward, now he looked in.
What he saw was depressing, a hollow shell of a man who'd gone very very far wrong.
The books helped and if he had any regrets it was solely that he wasn't able to truly test the resolve he'd built up to do the right thing and to try to mend what he'd done. Perhaps, in the end he resolved that the best thing he could do would be to meet death in a way that meant no one else could ever be harmed.
He read, he chatted, he ate, he slept and he thought.
At night his dreams were strange, littered with people he'd forgotten. He looked up when Rodney arrived, he'd not forgotten about the statue, it was important. He hadn't asked though, you couldn't rush art.
"Certainly." he said. "How?"
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Posted: Thu Dec 15, 2016 3:14 pm
"I can bring down some photos. I printed off a few. ...Collar, please," Rodney said, getting Butch situated.
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Posted: Thu Dec 15, 2016 3:19 pm
It was a routine compliance, donning the collar and sitting to wait. He'd gained a little weight in the time he'd been there, shedding something of the gaunt desperation from before. If he had to assess himself he'd have said his coat was shinier and his demeanour better. He looked human, his body exactly how it was supposed to be, with silver and white streaks in his pale hair. Without meticulous grooming he was hairy, his arms visibly so, but the hair was soft to the touch and felt like it was /supposed/ to be there.
He wore his skin more easily than he could ever remember. "Done." he said.
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Posted: Thu Dec 15, 2016 3:39 pm
They traded, sometimes, notes, books, and other things. This time Rodney also had a batch of scones from a recipe he was trying for the first time, tucked in with the pictures of the statue's progress.
"Here are the sketches," he said softly, handing them over. There were several, not all of them finished. An angel with a warm expression, singing and playing a lyre. An angel tending to a worried child's dog.
"Somehow, I seemed most drawn to this one," Rodney said.
The piece was complex, an angel who wore a hood and guarded in its hands a lit candle, sheltering it from a wind that whipped at its robes. At its feet were pages of music notes.
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Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2016 2:39 am
The smile when he saw Rodney in person was always genuine and though to someone else it might have seemed like a twisted relationship between them both, to him it was anything but that, rating it as possibly one of the purest relationships he’d ever experienced in his life. There could be no secrets, there was no need for them with time so short and when he explained to the other man about his numbed emotions it was without apology or false guilt. He could be honest and it felt good.
Taking the sketches he looked them over as if he had all the time in the world, patiently scanning each in turn. They were all beautiful and it touched him deeply that so much time and effort had been invested into considering him as a person and his final resting place. He wasn’t one for emotion as a general rule but inexplicably, looking over the careful sketches, he found himself beginning to tear up a little. It felt like more attention than had ever been paid to him by anyone other than himself.
The depictions were like a symbol of who he wanted to be, caring and gentle, of use to people. But it was the last that seemed to reach into him and strike a chord in his very core. The hood reminding him of his desperate guises, an obscuring of who he was, while also being a protection from the metaphorical elements of the world. He’s tried to explain to Rodney the importance of music to him, the sense of permanence associated with it. He even showed him the three sets of sheet music named after his each of his children that he’d written after their demise. The light, well, that meant something too
“I like that one best.” He said quietly, touching the sketch very lightly with a fingertip, as if he could feel it already. “It is my wish that that light hasn’t gone out. But even if it has, you know what? I’m willing to take whatever I’ve earned. It feels good not to run anymore.”
He looked at it a little longer. “It just. It is how I feel. Wearied by the world. Windswept. You are doing me a favour with all of this, possibly more than you realise.”
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Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2016 2:33 pm
"It would be lit," Rodney said. "It's...a seeker, but also a guardian. Someone who...lives in a very dark and hostile world, but for who...the solitary brightness is important and worth protecting, and keeping. It...reminded me the most of you. There is a sort of...searching, and yearning, but still...you've talked about feeling a dark hole that is always in the middle of you, and this is...in answer to that, a warm light, home, a...guide, in the darkness and troubles. Those...were just some of the thoughts I'd had, but, if you see it with...other meanings, that's right, it's...yours."
He folded up a scone in a napkin, offering it to Lawrence.
"I've blocked out part of the stone. If there were changes, I can still make them, but I'm...glad it's a design that resonates with you too."
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Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2016 2:47 pm
Even hearing Rodney's perspective on the statue brought back the longing and the strange incomprehensible emotions. It gave him hope in a way he couldn't explain in spite of being a fairly bleak image. "I appreciate your perspective of it too." he said, taking Rodney's view of it all as a compliment of the highest order.
"I look forward to seeing it finished." he said, and scratched Butch behind the ears.
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Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2016 2:51 pm
Rodney's expression crumpled some at that, as if it had all been brought wrenchingly forward.
"Yes," he said, "I should have it ready, at the time."
He leaned forward quite suddenly to rest his head on Lawrence's shoulder.
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Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2016 2:59 pm
There was a moment of minor confusion for Lawrence where he wondered if Rodney was all right or if he'd gotten dizzy, wrapping his arms around him and then self indulgently holding him close. He didn't fully understand why he'd come close if not because of some ailment.
He found it almost hurt him to hold the other man, a sort of gnawing ache taking hold in his gut at the warmth and the smell of him. He knew why he personally was hugging him, but he played dumb anyway.
"I'm sure it will be lovely." he said.
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Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2016 3:40 pm
Rodney gripped him back.
"It will watch over the outlook. And your body. And...me..."
It was no use asking why. The paths they chose were not too far apart. Over and over, he thought, maybe it was why they had gotten along. Even if neither had known.
Justice, mercy, it was different from the other ones, but in the end...it would be the same.
"Don't choose destruction," he said.
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Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2016 3:51 pm
"I don't want to." he said, and meant it. Things felt different to him, he felt like he had changed. Maybe it wouldn't be enough, maybe it had been too long, but for once in his life he felt like he had a choice, a choice he'd never actually seen before.
"I only wish I could stay with you a little longer than I have." he said. "But I know that is temptation talking more than anything else. I know I can't." He exhaled, wanting to kiss Rodney still, even now, but knowing he wasn't allowed to.
"If we end up in the same place, I'll get to see you again." And that was as much motivation as anything else. It wasn't selfish, not like everything else, it was love this time, he was sure, and wasn't love reason enough?
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Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2016 4:07 pm
"We wouldn't meet again in hell," Rodney said, "It's...as I said, a place...where the trash is burned. A lake of fire, destruction, obliteration. Souls don't...lean on each other in their misery. They're...apart, everything is apart, apart from God, from each other, and...cast with the angels who turned their backs on God into the void. We...would have to meet in heaven, we would both have to make it..."
Rodney found Lawrence's hands again, to grip in his own.
"You're going to make it."
And even if Rodney didn't make it too, Lawrence wouldn't really care, not in the end, it would be so...glorious and wonderful, apart from any suffering or pain, there would only be joy and relief.
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Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2016 4:14 pm
Lawrence seemed to flinch a little at Rodney's words, finding himself a little dented by the loss of the hope he'd scraped together. Having the weight of needing to get to heaven no matter what to even have a chance of seeing Rodney again brought back the weariness that had departed for a time. It was all so much.
He didn't know what to say to it.
But he'd keep going, he'd try to choose.
"I hope so." was about all he managed.
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