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[theshabbiestofmen]

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[theshabbiestofmen]

The voice of God. Right?

[majestyofthethrone]

Because God's voice can't be heard by people. Right?

[She takes a moment, and fidgets, and after he's read that, she erases it and writes out.]

My soul is the Throne of God. And when I turned fifteen, something happened, and God took residence inside my soul. So He sealed my voice.

[And a pause.]

I'm not crazy.

[theshabbiestofmen]

I didn't think you were.

[Nor does he think she's lying-- but it still takes him a few moments to digest. He glances down, frowning.]

What . . . what does that mean, exactly? Being a Throne of God, and-- and hosting God in you, all that. I don't know what that means.

[majestyofthethrone]

I don't really know either.

You see why I can't tell anyone? Because it doesn't make sense.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Yes, well. I'm a time-traveling wizard. I don't think much of our lives makes sense anymore.

So-- can you talk, but choose not to, or can you really not at all?

[majestyofthethrone]

[She's a little surprised he's taking it so well. Most people...don't. Except for people like Dean, people who know that there's things bigger than himself - although Dean doesn't seem to care about that.]

I can't even make noises that aren't vocalizations. Like sighs. Or sniffles. I can't even play the flute anymore.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Goodness.

[He says that quietly, still staring at the floor. And then, again:]

Goodness.

[A beat.]

Have you-- er-- met God, then?

[majestyofthethrone]

[She nods, tightly. Technically, so has Sirius, although he didn't know it at the time and still doesn't know.]

[theshabbiestofmen]

What's . . . it . . . like?

[majestyofthethrone]

[She expresses everything through music, and math, and perfect numbers and whole notes, so it takes her a moment to translate that sensation in her head.]

It's like hearing music but feeling love. You can feel the whole of creation and how it slots together perfectly, and...I don't know. It's hard to describe. I've been trying to recreate the sensation for two years now.

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He nods again, and doesn't say anything for a long minute. Finally, he huffs a sigh and pushes a hand through his hair.]

I'm sorry. I'm not . . . I believe you, I truly do, it's just-- difficult for me. I've a hard enough time with my own existence, let alone with a higher being. To have stark proof that one exists, even in just one world-- it's difficult.

[majestyofthethrone]

[She smiles a little, but it's wobbly, because she's always afraid people will push her away when they know, and she reaches for his hand.]

Things suck. Things suck for me and God is in my soul so yes, I understand. Just because He's there - it doesn't fix anything.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Mm.

[He smiles as she takes his hand-- a tired smile, very much strained.]

Is it-- I mean-- could it simply be a powerful entity? Or not, not God as we think of him? It?

[majestyofthethrone]

[She shakes her head]

When you meet Him, you know.

[theshabbiestofmen]

When?

[majestyofthethrone]

[There's a quiet pause.]

If you stay friends with me, it'll probably happen sooner or later.

[theshabbiestofmen]

How-- how do you mean?

[majestyofthethrone]

Sometimes He takes over.

[She makes a little gesture, like driving. He takes the wheel.]

[theshabbiestofmen]

Jesus.

[A beat, and he gives a nervous little laugh.]

Don't tell me he's in there too.

[majestyofthethrone]

[She shakes her head at that - no, no, he's not.]

I can't tell Sirius.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Why not? He'd understand. Or, well, he might not, I don't know if I understand-- but he'd be sympathetic.

[majestyofthethrone]

[She's quiet for a moment]

He'd sympathize. And then he would go to kiss me, and he would think, no, wait, is this her, or is it God, God is in this body, there's something else here, and he wouldn't

[She erases that and tries not to think of Adam, who found out, and refused to touch her after. Her touch (no, His touch, His), once, restored his sight, for a few minutes. And he saw her and told her she was beautiful but he couldn't, it changed things.

She didn't even like him all that much, but he made her feel real, in those moments after she lost her voice. He told her it was because he couldn't see anymore]

I've been through this before.

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He glances over at her, quiet and serious.]

I . . . can't promise that won't happen. But if you asked me, I'd tell you that no, no it wouldn't happen like that.

[He stretches out his arm. It's covered in scars, little and large, white and savagely applied.]

Most people won't even touch a werewolf, as if they might catch the disease by proximity. But Sirius has never worried about that. We've shared beds; he's fallen asleep on top of me. He grabs me and wrestles me and after the full moon is over he gets my clothes and carries me back to a bed. He . . . he doesn't care about that sort of thing. And I truly don't think he'd stop liking you because of this.

[majestyofthethrone]

[She reaches for him and hugs him - she doesn't like to touch people, she doesn't do it often, not with people she doesn't trust, but she does it then, she just reaches out and holds on.]

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He jumps a little, startled by that sudden touch, and nearly pulls away-- but he likes it, he likes the simple platonic contact, and he curls into it after a moment.]

I'm all right. Truly I am.