#he's in limbo with Cody. somewhere

[singsofecho-misc]

literally where the fuck is my husband

[alrosary]

“Cody? Cody!”

It is a plaintive, pitiful call, and he hates the way it sounds even to his own ears. He won’t admit any of the things he should: that he has no idea where he is, that he has even less idea where his sister could be, that this is all just another fever dream because he’s--he’s--oh, he can’t say it. Still can’t. Never could.

(He’d always had vague ambitions of dying like a martyr, but he’s never read anything about a martyr that died for no cause at all.)

If he’s dead (flinches away at the thought of it, stumbles in the snow), then this should be Heaven. Only there are no pearly gates, no Saint Peter to welcome him in with open arms and a commendation for years of service. And if he’s dead, and this is Heaven, even though it looks more like an inhospitable wasteland, then Cody should be here, too. Cody should have woken up right beside him. And Dogma can’t imagine what’s worse--that Cody is out there in the tundra somewhere, lost and alone and waiting for rescue, or that Cody never made it here at all.

Consider the options: Cody is in Limbo. Cody is wallowing eternal in Purgatory. Cody has been sent to Hell by a just God.

No. Eidolon is another name for Hell, then, because Cody has never done anything to damn herself in her life. This is Hell, and God weighed his heart against a feather and found him wanting for--for what? For forgiving Russell? Love thy neighbour, the commandments say, but there’s no provision for loving a neighbour that burned a church to the ground, that left a stuffy priest and his poor sister to go up in flames with it. Dogma didn’t know there were conditions, an if-then that would condemn him on a technicality.

(God is good and right and just, and he would never make such a mistake, and--is this another dream? Is Russell here?)

The snow is bitter cold, and the fretting is drawing warmth from his fingertips. There isn’t any time for what-ifs. Worrying can wait for when he and Cody are safe in the bunkhouse together. Worrying can wait for when he dies in the frost, a fitting punishment for abandoning his sister to the whims of the divine. Worrying can wait.

“Cody!”