"Alright then, I'll go to Hell," he said, and believed it, as he made the choice that was undoubtedly his ticket into Heaven.
They called his friend a fugitive, more a thing than a man; the flames of perdition awaiting anyone who helped him.
But friends are friends, so he damned Damnation--the blessed had never really liked him anyway. They didn't understand that only the sinner can clearly see sin; only the fallen rise.
Love kept them afloat on the wide river on Earth That Was; freedom lay just around the bend. Just follow the river.
"I'll go to Hell," he said. Except people like Huck don't go to Hell; they only think they do.
The Captain, my Captain, likewise, floats on a rickety boat, chasing freedom.
They called me a thing, told him I was barely a person, wanted a world without sin, which meant a world without me.
But the Captain, my Captain, wears his sin on his sleeve, accepts his damnation. He doesn't know that it sets him free to find salvation. He could have done the right thing; could have turned us over and turned us in, could have been one of the good guys, for once.
But as the Good Shepherd said, it's not his way.
His way is through the Black, where freedom lies. If you follow the river.