Skulduggery Pleasant knew betrayal, it was an emotion which he most frequently felt.
Becoming accustomed with betrayal didn't mean he was ever prepared for when it hit. As he was driving to his house, he couldn't help but laugh at the funeral directors arguing again – something about stealing customers or a fresh prank war being declared. Although he found their antics hilarious, they didn't lighten his mood one bit.
There was pride, an emotion he knew as well. Pride for Valkyrie, pride for Ghastly, pride for himself. Every one of his companions had been through so much and emerged triumphant; war, death, pain. But amongst all this darkness was light – hope, happiness, glee.
It wasn't unknown to anyone – it was common knowledge, that Skulduggery was proud of his Bentley; a car which he had owned from new and took better care of than his own house – and his house was not a mess. Seeing people turn their heads as he drove around a corner, stop mid-sentence to listen and appreciate the low purr of her engine, filled him with pride. It was like nursing a child, parents are proud when their child changes the world. Or at least that's what he expected.
He never got that far.
His thoughts drifted to a certain sorcerer, a lady whose beauty was that of legend, a lady who was infamous for it. He thought of the knowledge he had acquired, an old wound being open and another insight into just how he lost his family. China Sorrows was the reason for this, he scoffed at the irony of her name. She had caused indescribable sorrow to his life and countless others. She had been the reason why, when he had charged into Nefarian Serpines castle, he found his family kneeling and screeching.
Stories were told on the battlefield, in the trenches of what he had done. Mages condemning the actions of him – it was an unspoken rule that you never went after a man's family. But they didn't go to help.
Skulduggery knelt next to his daughter's limp body, cradling her head. They had a tradition: whenever she felt scared he would whisper "be brave" to her, she would smile and it would be enough for her to go back to sleep. He didn't realise then how much he needed the woman lying next to their daughter's body to whisper those words to him.
As much as Skulduggery wanted to denunciate China's action, he wasn't a hypocrite. 'I may be any things, but I'm not a hypocrite' is something he once told Valkyrie – those words were true. He had done unspeakable evils to people's sons, daughters, husbands, mothers, wives, fathers that he didn't have the luxury to condemn what she had done.
He had killed his best friend's mother. That was the one thing which he supposed he could relate to China by. They had both harmed a close friend's family, and neither expected a pardon for what they had done.
There had been many a time where he had been so lost in sorrow and memories and he practised his speech to Ghastly, nearly begging for the forgiveness which he craved but knew he didn't deserve. There were certain acts which spoke so much louder than words, although both he and China had both done actions to redeem themselves, there were still people which only remembered the pain which they had caused. Even just talking to a mirror about what he had done caused his voice to crack, his head to hang low and an ambience of pain, melancholy and resentfulness towards himself.
There were always which humans expected things to go, Skulduggery had a certain scenario in his mind about how he would confess his crimes to Ghastly and he was certain that China did as well – she is too proud to ever let the secret out but having Eliza Scorn tell it was not desirable.
He parked the car, body working on auto-pilot as he remembered the day his whole life changed, one of the few complete memories he had of his family which weren't tainted with the brains constant decay of memories. He remembers stumbling, arms flailing wildly – like a deer on ice as he tried to bring his charging legs to a halt. Just in time to hear his wife's voice in a scream and his child crying.
Sounds which drove Skulduggery to anger, to stupidity and Lord Vile.
He could sympathise with China, after China's actions she had chosen to become neutral in the war and take interest in books – a hobby which never caused anyone any official harm. He could sympathise with her because that moment had changed them both for better and worse.
The anger which consumed Skulduggery drove him to taking his power and using it for suffering. He had become addicted to the strength that his Necromancy gave him – never wanting to be a weak Elemental ever again.
Having already unlocked his door and closing it behind him, he sat on the sofa bed which he had brought for Valkyrie if she ever needed it. He had dropped her off at the pier after a car ride of heavy silence. No goodbyes where exchanged. No words spoken about what China had done.
He wasn't angry, he had no right to be angry at her – if he was angry at there then it would mean he would be the very thing he had vowed to never become.