lanselos_du_lac

Galahad nods. There's some strange reassurance in knowing that they have this in common, that they both accepted a destiny without question, and at the same time it makes him want to reach into himself and grab hold of that part that's angry with God, to blow on it until it becomes more than an ember. He thinks about Magnus, wanting something other than his purpose -- even SecUnit. Even Laertes talked about making himself new.

He wonders if everyone feels that way, if what seemed so isolating and deviant to him, to push against what you were made for and given no say in, is actually common-place. That idea makes him angry and sad at the same time: it isn't all God's doing, but it feels as if God should have done something about it.

(He believes in God -- it's nearly impossible not to when He's been the Word in his head for so long -- but more and more he thinks he doesn't love God. God is a Father who has demanded perfection from him all his life, and permitted no failure, and Galahad has failed. Sometimes he even longs to fail. He likes the striving, the time he needs to learn a new skill, the effort it takes to be wrong and try again. He wants it. He doesn't want to be perfect any more, if he ever did, and though he thinks he will still want to please God for the rest of his life, he will always in some way wish he could be taken back, it isn't the prevailing want of his life. There is room for other things, and he's glad.)

But God should have protected everyone else. If God expected certain things of Galahad, everyone else is just human, and Galahad is angry that the Father of the world couldn't have spared His children this. It should be possible.

All he says, very quietly, is, "Now?"