[That's not right. He shakes his head like he's trying to rid it of clinging webs, narrowing his eyes at the still-ambiguous features in front of him.]
I came back. [Closer.] I'm with the captain.
[A shivering resonance breaks apart that last word into a fractured distortion, as if not only formed of other voices but other names. He pulls his fingertips from strangely sticking sand and reaches out, tentatively, to brush against Lazarus' shoulders. They both exist, whole and clean, but this is a dream, and Paul knows their deceptions and pitfalls nearly as well as Lazarus does.]
It's all right.
[Quieter, the lapping echoes of the chorus harmonizing. He doesn't know how to explain, yet; he knows Lazarus will be concerned. It would have been simpler to lie.
He owes Lazarus more than that. He owes a man who became God more than that.]
no subject
[That's not right. He shakes his head like he's trying to rid it of clinging webs, narrowing his eyes at the still-ambiguous features in front of him.]
I came back. [Closer.] I'm with the captain.
[A shivering resonance breaks apart that last word into a fractured distortion, as if not only formed of other voices but other names. He pulls his fingertips from strangely sticking sand and reaches out, tentatively, to brush against Lazarus' shoulders. They both exist, whole and clean, but this is a dream, and Paul knows their deceptions and pitfalls nearly as well as Lazarus does.]
It's all right.
[Quieter, the lapping echoes of the chorus harmonizing. He doesn't know how to explain, yet; he knows Lazarus will be concerned. It would have been simpler to lie.
He owes Lazarus more than that. He owes a man who became God more than that.]
Where are you?