One moment, Flynn was at the door, and the next they were on the floor in a heap. Spectre didn't mind, though. The floor was as good a place as any for crying, and he wrapped his arms snugly around his dear friend. The angel closed his eyes in relief, as Flynn finally let it all out. Well... not all of it, probably. But enough. Enough to be healthy. He shuddered and sobbed in Spectre's arms, and it touched Spectre's heart that Flynn knew this was okay. He could be utterly vulnerable with Spectre, and not have any fear that anything bad would happen. He could cry.
Then Spectre started crying too. Not the deep, soul-rending crying that Flynn needed, but something quieter. His tears fell, and his heart released what was inside. His mourning for Jax and Quinn. His deep and horrible fear for Thomas, and for Peter. His impotent anger at whomever had done this to Quinn, and at the deceased Charon. There was so much going on, so much pain crushing down on them. But here, they could escape the crush by doing something that at first seemed like giving in to it. But Spectre knew that here, crying in each other's arms, they were making themselves a little bit more okay. They were doing the strongest thing two men could do. They wept.
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Date: 2008-06-17 12:20 pm (UTC)From:Then Spectre started crying too. Not the deep, soul-rending crying that Flynn needed, but something quieter. His tears fell, and his heart released what was inside. His mourning for Jax and Quinn. His deep and horrible fear for Thomas, and for Peter. His impotent anger at whomever had done this to Quinn, and at the deceased Charon. There was so much going on, so much pain crushing down on them. But here, they could escape the crush by doing something that at first seemed like giving in to it. But Spectre knew that here, crying in each other's arms, they were making themselves a little bit more okay. They were doing the strongest thing two men could do. They wept.