Daniel flinches away from the hand, revulsion quietly simmering in his chest. He doesn't want Lucifer's blessing, not now and certainly not forever. He doesn't want to have been the man who helped the Devil, except now he is.
One more thing he can add to his gallery of failures.
"You stay back," he says, icy. "You stay back."
His fingers still scrabble against the useless handle. Why the fuck did the car door have to break. He needs to get away from this man but the only avenue of escape is cut off to him.
Or - not the only one.
"I don't want your thanks. I don't want any of it. You can just -" One hand jerks, spasmodic, a wordless expression of his twisted guilt and self-loathing. He yanks off his jacket, balls it around one fist. The words curl into something grim, terrified, venomously ironic as he starts punching out the helpfully weakened car window. "Go to hell."
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One more thing he can add to his gallery of failures.
"You stay back," he says, icy. "You stay back."
His fingers still scrabble against the useless handle. Why the fuck did the car door have to break. He needs to get away from this man but the only avenue of escape is cut off to him.
Or - not the only one.
"I don't want your thanks. I don't want any of it. You can just -" One hand jerks, spasmodic, a wordless expression of his twisted guilt and self-loathing. He yanks off his jacket, balls it around one fist. The words curl into something grim, terrified, venomously ironic as he starts punching out the helpfully weakened car window. "Go to hell."