[ It's nice, letting someone wash him. Less like worship, more like camaraderie; for a moment he forgets they aren't two dogs in a cage. For a moment he forgets which version this is supposed to be. He forgets disciple, protected; he thinks, as he always does, of her.
Then Lazarus says unless you caused that detonation, and John looks at him.
John just looks at him.
His crown is gone. His hair is wet and rumpled by gentle hands. For the barest moment, there is nothing in him but the great heaving grief of that first embrace— the clenched desperation of a dying or very guilty man— for the barest moment, his eyes are yellow.
Then he rises (had he been sitting?) and he is taller than he ought to be. He is somehow more. The bunker is less real than his body, and his body is less real than his black-hole eyes. The universe bends around the gravity of God.
He says: ]
There won't be a lot of rainbows from here on out, mate.
1/2
Then Lazarus says unless you caused that detonation, and John looks at him.
John just looks at him.
His crown is gone. His hair is wet and rumpled by gentle hands. For the barest moment, there is nothing in him but the great heaving grief of that first embrace— the clenched desperation of a dying or very guilty man— for the barest moment, his eyes are yellow.
Then he rises (had he been sitting?) and he is taller than he ought to be. He is somehow more. The bunker is less real than his body, and his body is less real than his black-hole eyes. The universe bends around the gravity of God.
He says: ]
There won't be a lot of rainbows from here on out, mate.