Rhys has never been needed in his life before. The Nine, his family, his parents have never really required him for anything. There's the cursory "being an heir" to his parents' wealth and land sure, but beyond that? Nothing. He barely speaks to them, sees them even less. For anyone to actually want him around or need him strikes a chord so deep inside Rhys's chest he almost forgives Crowley for everything there on the spot. He wants to forgive him. To help out however he can.
So when the orders come Rhys finds himself nodding dumbly, surprise still written in his features as his faintly-bloody hand falls away from his neck. ]
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Rhys has never been needed in his life before. The Nine, his family, his parents have never really required him for anything. There's the cursory "being an heir" to his parents' wealth and land sure, but beyond that? Nothing. He barely speaks to them, sees them even less. For anyone to actually want him around or need him strikes a chord so deep inside Rhys's chest he almost forgives Crowley for everything there on the spot. He wants to forgive him. To help out however he can.
So when the orders come Rhys finds himself nodding dumbly, surprise still written in his features as his faintly-bloody hand falls away from his neck. ]
How...how soon? [ he croaks out, throat dry. ]