[ He watches. Secondhand and half-blind, more by assumption and memory than real mechanics, he watches the fight play out. He isn't wholly surprised when Lazarus succeeds the trial: the trial is meant to be succeeded, for better or for worse. It's a step towards horrible understanding. It's the opening of a door.
The door opens. Lazarus passes through it with his insubstantial partner, and John is left a little more alone, because that is how the trial is meant to work.
He lingers there, for a while, in the halls. It is very quiet without anyone to play disciple; there is nothing here but him and his dead, which shift and settle like his own breath. He does not speak again until he wakes, because there is no one to speak to. God doesn't have a cavalier. ]
no subject
The door opens. Lazarus passes through it with his insubstantial partner, and John is left a little more alone, because that is how the trial is meant to work.
He lingers there, for a while, in the halls. It is very quiet without anyone to play disciple; there is nothing here but him and his dead, which shift and settle like his own breath. He does not speak again until he wakes, because there is no one to speak to. God doesn't have a cavalier. ]