Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.

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The Glory, Glory. (2)

[(Anonymous)]

His body was whole again. Graham reached out and curled his fingers, the bandage free skin was pink and new like it was when he first met the Blackfoot. The tender aching in the center of his bones was gone from his hands and spine. He could see now, everything and yet nothing at the very same time. The entire cosmos, galaxies, stars, everything swirling and molding itself, and he felt himself coming apart, becoming part of it.
“You were always part of it,” A fatherly voice said from just over his shoulder. He turned to see the man, but he was not there.
“It’s not what you expected, I know,” A man who sounded like the son of that father said, his voice both youthful and sad. “We couldn’t ever tell you it would be like this. Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, they are all just words. Descriptors. They are never fitting. It’s everything Joshua Graham. Everything all at once: all of the beauty, all of the pain, and who you were as a man shapes how you see it. How it folds and bends around you. You’ve been a wicked man, and repented with a faith that would shake even Job. Welcome home my wayward brother, my father’s beloved son, but you aren’t ready for all of this yet. You have one person with whom you never made peace in your life.”
“Forgive me Lord,” Graham said, tears in his eyes; the first genuine tears of a lifetime that should have humbled him and left him weeping until he wasted and died. All his sins, all his mistakes, lay bare in a churning ball of inescapable furry. He found himself saying a prayer that God would forgive him, God would see he was a just man in the end, and take this heavy burden from his shoulders. Then he felt a light tapping on the same shoulder he heard the voices coming from.
It was Edward Sallow, before he was Caesar. Edward Sallow, as Joshua Graham first knew him, his hair a mess of thick brown curls, wrinkles gone from his eyes. A rosy and soft boy, full of ideas and bravery, a boy who had no idea the levels of depravity his golden tongue could bring others to. Petulant, cruel, Edward, but yet at the same time the youth held the gaze of a man, wise in years. He sat in a chair, which appeared in the white room that they both occupied.