"He told me what you told me. That I can't go back. But he said it's not my fault but ... I still think it kind of is." He could have done better, tried harder and he wanted to go home some day but for now, it wasn't so bad. He had a brownie and he had Barty, sitting with him, touching him. When was the last time he had that? He couldn't really remember. Dad didn't really get close to him and his siblings weren't interested. It was strange but nice.

"I'm gonna live with you, aren't I?" Aziraphale kept eating and his eyes drifted to Barty's nails. They had chipped black paint on them. "I think it will all be okay in the end. We are loved, Barty. So we will be okay. Together."

He reached out without thinking and touched one of the nails with his fingers before he caught himself and pulled away. "Sorry."