[s7e7] Untainted By Filth -

"You are late, Silas," she said, her voice flat and devoid of the warmth she usually reserved for the parish faithful.

Silas stopped at the altar rail. He looked up at the great stained-glass window above them, where the morning light was finally beginning to pour through, shattering into brilliant pools of crimson, sapphire, and gold on the floor. [S7E7] Untainted by Filth

"Let them hunt me," Silas said quietly, his voice losing its hard edge. "Let them call me ruined, or broken, or stained. I don't care about the mud on my boots or the blood on my hands. I went into that darkness to save those who couldn't save themselves. And despite everything they did to drag me down to their level..." "You are late, Silas," she said, her voice

He placed his hand on the smooth, cool wood of the altar, leaving no trace of dirt behind. "Let them hunt me," Silas said quietly, his

"Then come," she said, her voice finally softening into a whisper of a smile. "Sit down. Tell me the story of how you survived the dark, and let me help you wash away the road."

Beatrice looked at the ledger in his hand, then at the fierce, unyielding light in his eyes. She set her broom aside and walked over to him, reaching out to gently touch the edge of his sleeve.

Silas stepped into the nave, pulling off a mud-spattered leather greatcoat. He looked entirely out of place beneath the soaring, vaulted ceilings and the serene gaze of the painted saints. His face was gaunt, his eyes rimmed with the dark circles of a man who hadn’t slept in three days, yet there was a manic energy in the way he moved.