Sonny remembers when they met, of course. He remembers that day and all the ones that followed as he showed her how to grip hold of the demon powers, as he watched her grow into the beautiful woman she became. His hands tighten over her own, and his chest aches painfully with it as he meets her gaze. His eyes are burning, and his thumb slides over the outside of her hand. A disbelieving sound escapes him.

It's something like a fond and broken laugh when she sounds so much like her. It is. It's still her. There's that laugh which escapes him, and he used to respond in a different way arguing with her about it, calling her too young. He does neither of those things this time.

He lifts his hand up until he is cupping her face against his palm. His eyes burn more, and the tear finally escapes, slides down his face. "I am old."

He is much, much too old, and she died much, much too young. And that's the way the world works except when it gives you an impossible moment like this..