The past was terrible, and there had been no future. Whatever joy he'd once found in his position was irrevocably tainted by the knowledge of what reality had actually been, and the promise of an inevitable death had been less of a looming dread and more of a welcomed relief.

Here though, now though, an uncountable distance away from home and Hell and his and the Council's crimes where none of that mattered, it was all just so much dust in the wind. This felt good now, he was learning about Cassiel now. What had been and what would be simply did not matter.

Perhaps this reckless, wild acceptance of the absurdity of their situation and dedication to living within the present moment was why he felt, behaved, so unpredictably now. Like say, grabbing Cassiel as he was flipped over their head to just haul them along for the ride. All to the sound of the archangel's uninhibited, delighted laughter.