There was a part of Chris that was comfortable with death. A small part, the part that hoped it wouldn't matter. That hoped he didn't actually die. That maybe, just maybe, things could be made right again. Which wasn't really being okay with death. This was a man who had railed against everything to stop death, to save his family. Even if it meant the death of his brother to do it.

The sadness and anguish Wille felt rose up in Chris, as if he needed the physical reminder of how poorly he was doing as a whitelighter. "Sorry, I'm doing a shit job." He reached up to grasp Wilhelm's hand and pick himself up off the grass, dusting himself off. Pretend grass stains, cool.

Was it absolutely terrible of him that he found the brooding thing kind of cute?

"Nice car. I think I stole one just like it once." Wow that came out wrong. Maybe he should just shut up while he was still ahead.