It is so painfully naive and gentle a reassurance that he cannot bring himself to shatter it. What you thought was right at the time... It is a low bar to meet. He has always tried, yes; he has always loved his family. Here he is with none of them left, all the same.

"Revenge often does, I suppose." They are passing the shoal of corpses, and clean water is washing in. He flexes his fingers, grips the edge of the boat hard a moment, tries not to hold the building anger in the set of his teeth. It is like a condescending pat on the head, a good job, you shared from whatever pseudo-god rules them here. Never Mind. A king of ravens put his Annabell Lee on a spike to coax him to confess his sins to a teenager, and one day John shall make known his feelings on that.

"It seems to be clearing up," he murmurs. There are no further jutting spikes ahead, which is nearly offensive in itself. He has so many more beloved dead they could run through. Their voyeur has evidently lost interest in the show.