Like before, the Soldier's mind is pretty clearly divided between accessible and inaccessible memories. Compared to Aziraphale's last trip inside, though, the barrier between the two spaces is... fraying, a little. The holes are easier to find and a little bigger, both the darkness and the light of life before Beacon leaking out a little more than before. It's not a flood, but there's definitely a noticeable change. The Soldier's mental presence still can't follow through, though they try their damndest to try and feel what Aziraphale is doing anyway.
Whether both of them thinking about what they want to find helps, or the recent knowledge dump sifted them closer to the surface, what Aziraphale is after is surprisingly close and ready to bring to light. Steve, plus family, plus holiday leads to:
He's dragging a ten year old Steve to the house, trying to explain again as they go. "You don't have to do any of it," he's saying. "If you don't want to. But it's fun. Pa and Becca only do the fun stuff, not the fasting stuff, since Pa isn't Jewish or anything and Becca's a whiner. Ma made a good dinner, you can have that either way."
"I don't know," Steve says, reluctant, even though he's walking after him, hasn't yanked his hand away or turned back, even though the last friend he'd tried to bring along for a non-Catholic holiday hadn't even gotten this far. "You're sure your folks won't mind?"
"They said I should invite you," he repeats, stamping one foot a little harder on the next step, as if that will emphasize the point. "And I want you to."
"Well, if you want me to, sure," Steve drawls, and he lets Steve's hand go to punch him in the shoulder, but they're both grinning.
"We even got chocolate for the dreidel game," he says, pushing open the front door to the apartment, letting out heat from the oven, noise from three little sisters all yelling at each other, and Ma yelling at them to shut up. Steve looks overwhelmed. He just grins harder. "It'll be great, you'll see. Ma, Pa, I brought Steve!"
That's where it ends, and the Soldier sits blinking on the floor, digesting it, trying to settle the idea that they had sisters, parents, people who wanted to know their friends. People he came from.
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Whether both of them thinking about what they want to find helps, or the recent knowledge dump sifted them closer to the surface, what Aziraphale is after is surprisingly close and ready to bring to light. Steve, plus family, plus holiday leads to:
He's dragging a ten year old Steve to the house, trying to explain again as they go. "You don't have to do any of it," he's saying. "If you don't want to. But it's fun. Pa and Becca only do the fun stuff, not the fasting stuff, since Pa isn't Jewish or anything and Becca's a whiner. Ma made a good dinner, you can have that either way."
"I don't know," Steve says, reluctant, even though he's walking after him, hasn't yanked his hand away or turned back, even though the last friend he'd tried to bring along for a non-Catholic holiday hadn't even gotten this far. "You're sure your folks won't mind?"
"They said I should invite you," he repeats, stamping one foot a little harder on the next step, as if that will emphasize the point. "And I want you to."
"Well, if you want me to, sure," Steve drawls, and he lets Steve's hand go to punch him in the shoulder, but they're both grinning.
"We even got chocolate for the dreidel game," he says, pushing open the front door to the apartment, letting out heat from the oven, noise from three little sisters all yelling at each other, and Ma yelling at them to shut up. Steve looks overwhelmed. He just grins harder. "It'll be great, you'll see. Ma, Pa, I brought Steve!"
That's where it ends, and the Soldier sits blinking on the floor, digesting it, trying to settle the idea that they had sisters, parents, people who wanted to know their friends. People he came from.