Raw [Nilla]

[ZERACHIEL]

Disbelief shone on Zerachiel’s face as his words reverberated within the room. She had healed herself, managed to teleport Nick to his home, and he still refused to even consider what the angel said. She recalled her conversation with Lucifer and wondered if he had felt even remotely similar to how she did now; after all she would not listen to the fallen angel, too stubborn to do so. Unblinkingly, she listened to him. He was hurt and understandably angry, and it pained her to know that she could not help. She swallowed, contemplating everything that had happened thus far. Zerachiel still thought that this encounter had been meant to happen—for a reason. Even the most insignificant actions held importance in the end.

“It may not mean anything to you . . . but I am here to listen.” Tentatively she stepped forward, the raw emotion enveloping her once more, as he spoke of Sarah. Zerachiel allowed her wings to unfurl, until they extended across the width of the room. Although naked to the human eye, their shadow shone on the wall. Carefully, she willed her wings forward, the tips stroking the man soothingly and wrapping about his body. He could dismiss the authenticity of her wings, however she did not mind. She would show him that her intentions were true. Regardless of what words came from his mouth, she would persevere, because she cared—humans were fragile and she wanted to be there to sustain them when they were unable to cope with the harshness of reality.

“I always will be,” she continued. That was her job.

[LUCIFER]

This is not my life

[/color]

Nick shifted and bit his lip. He covered his mouth as he held his breath so that he didn’t burst into tears in front of the strange woman. This was just a horrible day, a horrible week, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle all of this. The man shook his head to himself as he turned away from the angel. It took Nick a few moments for him to gather himself properly. He didn’t need to lose it, not in front of somebody, even if it was a crazy woman. That just, wasn’t his style, so to speak. He hardly heard her as she spoke. He shifted his feet and rubbed his face for a moment, getting a whiff of the alcohol from his own breath as he calmed himself down.

The man looked at the wall of his house, avoiding the pictures that hung there. He looked back at the woman, squinting a little as he thought he saw a flicker of something against the background. Feathers? He was way too drunk to believe just yet, and then again, seeing didn’t always mean believing anyway. He took a breath and shut his eyes as he felt surrounded. It was strange, because he didn’t feel her arms, but a strange soothing comfort slowly washing over him as she surrounded him with her wings.

He still had to get his act together. He had to push Sarah out of his mind for a bit, just a little for now. Sense when did stripping drug addicts care about other people? Still…He was tired, emotionally exhausted, and very drunk. If only Sarah was here…She always knew how to comfort him. Of course now he was going to have to get used to living without her…That sensation was still new to him. The man took in a deep breath and held it once more for a few seconds, sighing moments later.
"Why?" was all he asked.

It was more directed toward why his family had been obliterated. Why now? Why ever at all? Why hadn’t they found the man, well, it wasn’t a man that had done that, but he didn’t believe in demons either. Why was she in his house? Why wasn’t this just a horrible dream?

I hate this

[/right]

[ZERACHIEL]

Zerachiel felt the weight of millennium upon millennium upon millennium envelope her as she watched Nick through ancient eyes, sympathy evident in their green depths. On impulse, she extended a hand toward the man in a consoling gesture, however she hesitated, fingers enclosing around air instead. “I do not know,” the angel replied. “I do not know . . .” God works in mysterious ways—that is what she had been told, though she refrained from articulating her thoughts. “Believe me when I say I wish I could turn back time and prevent what has come to pass—it is not in my power to do so. I sincerely apologize. I could have—I could have . . .”

“It was meant to be.” She could easily detect the austerity within her own voice as she struggled to convince herself more than Nick that the death of two innocent individuals had been inevitable—destined to happen. How could one insignificant human cause her to question her principles? Confusion surged through Zerachiel as she grappled with her faith and what she considered to be right and unjustifiably wrong. What would happen to Nick now that he had lost those he loved unconditionally? Was his purpose simply to be Lucifer’s second vessel? How could she believe that? “It was meant to be,” Zerachiel repeated, the words she spoke seeming to be void of the conviction she had once possessed.

Solemnly, she gazed up at the portraits. She had wanted to comfort him, yet she could not even answer his question; Zerachiel could not even reassure herself. Suddenly, nausea overcame her, unadulterated shock replacing her once unwavering certainty. A part of her wanted to escape the ever-increasing doubt and then she focused on Nick, remembering why she had come to Delaware—to help. She had not lost her ability to assist those in need; to console, to make an effort—no matter how ineffective they were—to prove that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. That there was someone who cared for them in spite of everything. That is what was most important.

Zerachiel was an angel; she would not falter—she could not.

“Nick, you can be repulsed by me, hate me, refuse to accept all that I have said, and I will still be here—a friend. Whatever you do, whatever you have done, however you treat me, it will not deter me in the slightest. Whenever you need someone, someone who will not judge you for you, simply know that I am here—always.” She cherished humankind—her Father’s creation—and she would remain as vigilant as ever protecting and encouraging them. “Like it or not.”

[LUCIFER]

She didn’t know…of course she didn’t know. Why did he even expect her to give him an answer? He shrugged his shoulders, as if he was not amused, which, he was. He rubbed his face some more, trying to wake himself up from this horrible nightmare, but he wouldn’t because this was his life now. This was the state of existence that he had to continue on through…Nick sighed as his head throbbed from the alcohol that was still pulsing through is system. He needed water. He could get that. That would help, maybe. He walked past the angel as she stammered mostly to herself now. He wasn’t really paying attention. He just needed to put as much distance between him and her as possible right now.

As he heard ‘it was meant to be’, his rage bubbled. He gave a visible shudder as he opened the freezer door for some ice cubes. He was on fire; emotionally and physically. He gathered a rough handful of ice and dropped the cubes into a near plastic cup. He figured anything that was breakable…might get broken. Besides, stuff was expensive, and even though he didn’t have a family to feed…He shook his head from his thought as he leaned over the sink and turned on the tap to fill the cup to the brim almost. He tilted it slightly as he took several quenching swallows. Nick hovered over the sink, stretching his arms out as he leaned over it. He set the glass down lightly, his head bowed.

He looked over his shoulder, with a scowl on his face. Who did she think she was? His anger pulsed with his heart rate as he looked at her. She invaded his house, she insulted his family’s memory, she destroyed his alcohol, and the list kept going...And he was putting up with this crap? What had happened to him? What spineless creature had he become recently? Hormones, booze, grief, and the fact that he was tired and partially all wound him up. Nick crossed the room back to her. He walked around, close to where he had been standing before nd looked at her while she finished her little ‘encouraging’ speech.

I don’t even know you! he yelled, finally.
He then just went off on a drunken tangent. He hardly knew what he was saying. His face was slowly becoming red with the force of his words. His hands and arms moved wildly as he gestured, whilst yelling at her. He was yelling that she was crazy, that there wasn’t a God, or that if there ever had been that he left. He was screaming about how awful she was for telling him that she was an angel, and how full of shit she was with that. His words were…slurred, and quite colorful compared to any cursing he had done before. He stepped closer as he ranted and raved in front of her.

And then he swung a well aimed punch to her jaw.

[ZERACHIEL]

Zerachiel bit her bottom lip, breaking the skin, as her head rolled on her shoulders upon impact. The brackish taste of blood inundated her mouth, as she vaguely registered the accompanied physical pain. Undeterred, the angel stared unblinkingly up at the man, overstepping boundaries and resting a hand gently upon his shoulder. “I remain true to my word, Nick,” she stated evenly. “I said it once and I will say it again . . .” Zerachiel allowed her wings to unfold, their shadow displayed on the wall and ceiling—two well-defined outlines. In spite of her reservations she remained devoted to humanity. She defied her siblings in favor of earth and its inhabitants; succumbing to her uncertainties would merely encumber her in the end. “I am here for you—as I am for everyone else”

Distancing herself from him, she procured a piece of paper creased and warm from her pocket. “I will come if needed.” Her phone number materialized on the once blank surface, and she carefully placed it on atop the side table. “Do with it as you will.” Zerachiel could no longer argue with Nick. She had articulated her purpose behind her visit and her readiness to lend a hand to the brokenhearted individual, as well as her inflexible point of view. Whether he held on to or disposed of her contact information was entirely up to him. Perhaps—God willing—they would cross paths once more.

Wordlessly, Zerachiel bypassed Nick, exiting the Aaron household. She inhaled the cool evening air, walking into the freshly fallen rain; the crisp aroma soothing. Wiping the blood from her mouth, she prayed for the human—prayed that he could one day recover his peace of mind.

[LUCIFER]

His hand was on fire. As he withdrew it back to his side he just stared at the woman that he had just punched. His eyes held surprise, at himself, and at her reaction. Mostly, he was surprised with himself. He had just crossed and ancient line just now and that thought was hitting him full force. The man took a few deep breaths as he steadied himself. What had he just done? He relaxed the hand that had punched the woman just seconds before. He stared at it, as if his arm was some monster that had somehow attached itself to him.

How was she not mad? How was she not crying, or scared? How was she so…calm? He didn’t understand it. Man his hand hurt. Did her jaw have a metal plate in it? He let out another deep breath, as if he had been running in a marathon. Well, this day sort had been a marathon. He glanced over at her hand as it rested on his shoulder. She wasn’t pissed off at him? He just decked her! Still either he hit like a girl, or she really did have a plate in her head. Nick just stood there baffled for a moment.

His eyes moved over the outline of her wings. Was he seeing things? His mouth opened slightly in surprise at what he was seeing. He didn’t quite believe it. It had to been the booze, the stress, or just the fact that he was having a crazy day. He stared at the shadows and heard the familiar rumble of distant thunder. He looked as she set the card on the table. Nick pulled his injured hand close to his chest as she passed him. He stood there, silent, still dumbfounded.

Then, as he heard the door to his house shut a feeling of shame washed across him. He frowned and his lips pressed tightly together as he rubbed his injured hand. He took a few steps to the table and looked at the number. His head raised as his gaze turned to the shut door. The guilt and alcohol twisted in his gut. His emotions swelled and severe nausea ripped through him. He stumbled to a trash can and let his stomach empty itself.

Nick panted as he spat into the can. He was going to have to change that later, but he couldn’t just let the woman leave, not like that…He got up as fast as he could, and took another swig of water to clear his mouth of the aftertaste of vomit. He roughly ran to the door and flung it open, scanning the darkness for the shape of the woman. He called out to her, butchering her name in the process as he looked for her.

[ZERACHIEL]

The angel hesitated mid-step, straining to hear above the rainfall. Her eyes focused on the Aaron household, Zerachiel genuinely surprised when she recognized Nick’s voice; however, she wondered vaguely what had caused him to call for her so soon subsequent to her departure. Regardless of the motive behind his decision, she promptly retraced her steps, sprinting down the waterlogged sidewalk. She assured him that she would always answer when requested and she was determined to honor her word. The sound of thunder resonated within her ears and pale, serrated lightning strikes illuminated the sky, silhouetting her against the dark backdrop of night, and lighting her way.

“Is everything alright?” Zerachiel inquired upon arrival, examining Nick thoroughly to ensure his safety had not been threatened in spite of the briefness their separation entailed. His appearance seemed to have deteriorated in such a short frame of time and she at least desired to heal his physical health. Once more, she reached forward and placed a hand upon him, employing the remnants of her power in order to restore his body’s imbalances. Zerachiel swayed slightly where she stood, but managed to maintain consciousness. Tonight she had exploited her angelic abilities a lot more than she had recently and she imagined the excessive use would amount to an unwarranted quantity of sleep and the consumption of human cuisine; her stomach rumbled in response to her musings—food was a nuisance.

Gazing unblinkingly up at Nick, she stepped away, not wanting to cause him further discomfort. Admittedly, she had overstepped boundaries one too many times since her coming to Delaware; she was still growing accustomed to the earthen lifestyle and the limitations each individual provided. Her former lack of and now the exposure to emotion definitely affected her actions and it proved difficult for them not to. She simply had everyone’s best interest at heart, however sometimes her idea of lending a hand held the opposite outcome of her true intentions. “Also, I apologize for earlier,” she added, “Angering you was not my objective.”

[LUCIFER]

The man stumbled slightly as he practically vaulted himself off the steps of his porch. He tried to catch himself, his arms spreading as he started to regain his balance. It took him a few steps but after a minute or so, with some slowing down, he was able to steady himself. He looked up to see Zerachiel moving toward him and a deep pang of relief flooded his system as he spotted her. Good. She hadn’t run too far off. He didn’t know if he could have caught her if she had ran away, or drove off. How did they get here again? Walk? Did she drive?

As he wandered to her he slowed his pace. Nick took a few deep breaths as his head spun, swimming with liquor and physical pain. He frowned a little, reaching up to rub his forehead with his good hands. The man let out a small sigh once he looked back to Zerachiel and studied her face as she talked. He lightly leaned into her palm as she pressed it against him. Nick swallowed and the slowly started to feel just a bit better. That was strange, but then again, she was helping him stay vertical. Maybe that was the reason he felt better. The world was strange.

“I’m, I’m…” he stammered for a moment as he further caught his breath. How could just a few yards get him so tired? Maybe he was letting the booze mess him up too much…It was something to consider, whilst sober. “I’m just so sorry.” he went on after a few breaths. “I…was way out of line..I don’t know what came over me.” he said as he tried to explain himself. Of course that was no reason to have hit her, or any woman for that matter. Still, he doubted his words could convey the guilt that he was feeling right now, but he was trying.

As she stepped back a flittering look of worry played over his face. She had every right to be upset. His eyes searched her face to see if he could read what she was thinking right now. He wasn’t really able to tell, as his vision of her was quite…blurred. She was apologizing too? He was taken aback a little by it, but he felt slightly better on a mental level.
“Yes…I didn’t think you were trying…”

[ZERACHIEL]

There is nothing to be sorry for,” Zerachiel assured, pleased that he had been able to apologize. “You are a good person, Nick. Do not doubt yourself.” The wind buffeted the angel from behind, growing stronger as the intensity of the storm increased; overhead dreary dark grey thunderheads enveloped the moon, concealing the soft white glow of the earth’s satellite. She enjoyed the sound of the rain striking the cement and the thunder, which resonated down the street in a low rumbling bass, causing the ground beneath her feet to shudder in response; the weather amazed her—this world was exceptionally different from Heaven.

“You ought to return to the confines of your home,” she continued, “considering you are in no state to endure such severe weather. I believe the immune system can be weakened in such conditions.” Zerachiel had never experienced illness firsthand, although she knew humans were easily affected by disease. Humankind was fragile yet strong, which is why she admired her Father’s creation and vowed to watch over them decades previously. She did not comprehend Michael’s—as well as her angelic brethrens’—willingness to place their lives in jeopardy. It pained her to know they cared so little for this planet and its inhabitants. No wonder humanity’s faith had waned over time.

She could not atone for her siblings’ misdeeds, although she could assist those in need; hopefully her mission would not end with Nick Aaron—how could she possibly help him when he was fated to be Lucifer’s vessel? What would happen once the fallen angel moved on; would Nick die for nothing? Zerachiel frowned slightly, wishing she had the power to evade destiny. Suffering the loss of his wife and child had been cruel, no matter the reason behind their deaths. Exactly what did their murders signify? One question led to another, merely complicating matters.

Focusing on Nick, she concentrated on him and only him, refusing to contemplate her doubts further; her uncertainties interfered with what was important. He looked exhausted and she was especially concerned about his current frame of mind considering what had transpired. “At any rate both your body and mind require rest. You should sleep.”

[LUCIFER]

He didn’t believe her when she said there was nothing to be sorry for. Of course there was something to be sorry for. He had cursed her out, called her…horrible things, and he had just made a huge mess of things. His head was pounding and he was sure his mother was rolling in her grave. He rubbed his face, feeling the bristles of a forming beard. He really needed to shave again. It had been a while, but he had such little energy these days. Nick took in and let out another deep breath, trying to keep a hold of his emotions and make sense of things.

A good person? Was she serious? How could she know something like that when he treated her…well, as he did? He looked back up at her, getting a burst of wind to the face. He shut his eyes tightly as the air bombarded him. He waited for the burst to pass before opening them again. He made a perplexed face at her at the way she spoke… Maybe she had been an English major at some point or something, and that was the only conclusion that he could come to at this point.

He wasn’t going to get sick from this weather, it was going to be the stress that was going to kill him. He was surprised that the entire emotional trauma hadn’t given him more than nightmares, headaches, and the occasional need to retch. He doubted the wind was really going to hurt his immune system. Besides, he couldn’t feel the cold with all this alcohol in his system. He was on fire. The wind felt great to him at this point.
“I’ll be fine, thanks,” he said after a moment, enjoying the crazy gusts of wind, “It actually feels really good outside…”

It was kind of soothing on some level. The weather was acting just as jacked up as he felt right now. It gave him a feeling of…still being connected to the world, even through all of this. A strange wave of peace seemed to flow over him as he felt the first heavy droplets of rain land on his shoulders. He smiled a little bit as he looked up toward the dark clouds that cut the light from the moon. A few drops landed on his face and he happily took in the contrast in temperature. He enjoyed storms and the thunder helped him sleep sometimes.

He knew that she was right. He was going to need some sleep. He looked at his wrist to see what his watch said. It didn’t tell him anything because he had broken it a couple of days ago by hitting it against something. The digital watch just glared at him, the several cracks in the screen making the green background a variety of different shades. He frowned as he knew he was going to have to get another one at some point. Why hadn’t he taken this one off?

“Look, I’m still terribly sorry…” he started, running his hand through his hair as he looked around, almost bashful like. “I can’t just let you walk out in this storm…especially…after what I did.” Boy was this awkward. “So, I have lots of extra room at my house…clothes, food, blankets, pillows. I mean, I really would not be able to stand myself to just watch you wander off in this oncoming storm.”

[ZERACHIEL]

That is very kind of you. I would love to.” She had nowhere to lodge for the night and Zerachiel gladly accepted his offer. Angels were not meant to sleep, however exhaustion enveloped her, the continuous usage of her powers strenuous—especially teleporting them both from the bar to Nick’s house; she was amazed she had not lost consciousness afterward. She had been on her own for so long it felt nice to be in company, if only for a night; not to mention, she could easily watch over him for the time being, which comforted her. The man was hurting and she did not want to leave Nick by himself; perhaps he felt lonely too.

“As I said before: there is nothing for you to be sorry for. I am fine,” Zerachiel responded earnestly, absentmindedly resting her fingers upon her jaw where his fist had struck. The pain had been exceptionally brief, and no damage had been dealt. “I simply do not want to fail you; I was afraid I had.” Nick talking to her, inviting her to stay, delighted her. Despite everything that had been said and done, he pardoned her prior behavior and that was what mattered the most. She inhaled the scent of freshly fallen rain as the wind whipped her hair, the storm invigorating her. “I am merely pleased you have forgiven me.”

She gazed up at him, shivering slightly as she recalled the dream. Nick was Lucifer’s vessel and the thought repulsed her. Zerachiel did not want her brother to posses this human or any other individual. The angel hoped her siblings would not be successful in breaking the seals. A part of her sympathized for the Devil, however he could not be allowed to walk the earth; chaos and destruction would surely follow in his footsteps—and he would destroy Nick. “I will protect you,” she said aloud, although she knew she could never shield him from Lucifer, “okay?”

[LUCIFER]

To say the least, Nick was very relieved when she took the offer. It was if a weight had been lifted off of him. Good, he could make things…well, he doubted that he could make them right, but he could at least try to repair the damage he had caused to this caring stranger. He nodded and let out another deep breath as he fiddled with his disheveled hair. He took a few steps back, moving closer to his house a few paces before stopping.

He lifted his eyes back to Zerachiel and shook his head. He could not apologize enough for what he did, but for whatever reason – she kept saying that she was okay. The guilt that gnawed at him told him otherwise, but women were always strange and they sent various and confusing signals. Was this one of those times or was she being deadly serious? How could the other gender just be so…crafty? He turned, making a motion with his hand so that she should follow, or an invite to follow.

She kept talking about failing him. Was she still on these drugs he thought she had been on before? Nick looked up at the sky again as the rain started to pelt down lightly and then heavily. He squinted a little and tensed up as it started to pour. He was not amused with Mother Nature. He had wanted a storm, but he wasn’t a duck. He was not built for this kind of rain that could chill somebody to the bone in a matter of moments. He slowly walked to his house, checking to see if she was following. Eventually Nick broke into a sort of jog back up the steps and under the relative safety of the porch.

Nick turned, a confused expression on his face as she said that she would protect him? Protect him from what? The worst thing he could have imagined had already happened to him.
“Okay,” was the only thing he could manage to say as he opened the door to the house and stepped within the dark home.
He finally flicked on a light switch and staggered slightly from the light. It wasn’t blinding, but in his state…it felt like somebody had shined a spotlight on his face. He covered his eyes, moving about his home with squinted eyes and an arm covering his forehead.

Even half blind, it didn’t take him long to find blankets and pillows. He held them for a moment, staring at the fabric. For a few seconds he lost himself in the color and the smell of the laundry detergent that Sarah had used for as long as he could remember. He hugged the pillow to his chest and inhaled deeply, holding his breath to stifle a heartbroken sob. No, he was good. Not this again. Nick’s throat tightened and he laid the items on the couch.

He waited until Zera had settled herself in the room.
“I…just let me get you some things,” he said as he disappeared in the house to his bedroom. He pulled open the closet door and stared at some of Sarah’s old clothes. Some of her maternity ware was still residing in there. It would certainly be too big for normal wear, but it would work for pajamas…well, he hoped. He plucked a few options for her to choose from and rested them on the bed. He pulled his pillow from his side of the bed, some of his own pajamas, and wandered back to where Zerachiel was.

“I’ll take the couch, there are some clothes for you there…I figured you didn’t want to sleep in what you had on…” he said as he scratched the back of his neck as he set his sleep wear on the couch arm.
“There’s a restroom down the hall..I left the light on for you. Kitchen is right over there if you are hungry or thirsty…” he said while gesturing to where things were. He set his pillow on the couch and pressed his lips tightly together as he ran through a checklist in his head. He was surprised he could still function. A headache was throbbing around his temples and surrounding his eyes and forehead, and he tried to relieve the pressure by rubbing his face.

[ZERACHIEL]

Zerachiel reentered the house, lingering in the sitting room while Nick strode further into the residence. She did not want to overstep boundaries and refrained from following in his footsteps, instead thoroughly observing her surroundings; committing to memory the layout of the building for future reference. Leaning against the couch for support, Zerachiel heaved a sigh, shoulders drooping tiredly. She felt old—ancient—as if everything that had transpired since the dawn of time and now were catching up to her simultaneously. Perhaps the continuing loss of her immortality would affect her in more ways than one; she had never contemplated the influence it would have over her state of mind.

Upon Nick’s return, Zerachiel composed herself. He looked worn-out and simply miserable, which saddened her. She knew he required sleep as well—more so than she did—so she kept her response as brief as possible. “Thank you,” she said quietly. Zerachiel had encountered numerous people and not one of them had demonstrated such hospitality; every person had good within them, sometimes it was more difficult to find it in one person than another—and she would find it eventually, because she knew it was there. A majority of her brethren failed to see what she saw, but she understood why God loved them. “Sleep well, Nick. Goodnight.” She left him to his own devices, settling into the room she was to lodge in for the night.

The angel undressed, changing into one of the outfits Nick permitted her to wear. She neatly folded her own clothes placing them in a pile next to the bed, and allowed herself to drop onto the mattress, arms splayed about her body. The material of her current attire hung loosely around her slender figure, soft and pleasantly scented. Her eyes shut involuntarily, and she fought against the exhaustion as it enveloped her, drawing her in like a bee to honey. In next to no time, she would have to rest both her mind and body on a daily basis, and the notion disconcerted her. Angels are not meant to sleep, she thought wearily, hoping to persuade herself otherwise. However, gradually, Zerachiel succumbed to sleep in spite of her best efforts to remain conscious.

---

Hours later, she awoke, abruptly drawn from slumber. Sweat drenched Zerachiel, causing the front of the blouse to cling to her skin uncomfortably. Sleep was not only a waste of time; it made her dream of things she did not want to dwell on—the apocalypse, her rebellion, and Michael. She loved her brother and she never meant to betray him, though she could no longer aid the archangel if he meant to harm humankind—paradise or not. It hurt to not be there by his side along with Ithuriel any more, and it hurt to know that he would never forgive her—it hurt a lot. She did not want to dream of him again; it was bittersweet.

Tentatively, she crept into the hallway, treading lightly as to not disturb Nick; Zerachiel could not go back to sleep now that was for sure. Stepping into the living room, she glanced at the man on the couch, and then exited the front door. She was not leaving yet, she simply needed fresh air. Outside it smelled of rain, but the storm had passed hours ago; a soft breeze replacing the intense winds. She sat on the porch, studying the yard and the houses lining the street.

Would this war ever end?

[LUCIFER]

The man gave a slight nod from her thanks. She was strange, maybe even crazy, but he appreciated her manners. Those skills had started to become lost over the years. It was refreshing to hear them again and know that they had not completely died out yet. He watched her leave, making sure that she didn’t need anything before he got ready for bed. He had half a mind just to flop on the couch and pass out, but he couldn’t. He was drunk, but he knew a cold shower would help him out, and he would need to drink a few glasses of water before he went to bed. If he didn’t, he was going to have a killer hangover in the morning. Years of experience had taught him well.

He occupied himself by rummaging about the kitchen, drinking a few glasses in quick succession until his stomach was full. He found a bottle of asprin next to the sink and took a few pills for good measure. It was better to be safe than sorry. He pulled a bottled water out of the fridge and closed the lid to the pills. Walking back to the living room he set them down on the nearby coffee table. They would be within reach in the morning, but he didn’t want just a glass of water…Recently he had the habit of flailing in his sleep from the nightmares…Nick didn’t want to clean up a wet carpet in the morning.

Nick used the second bathroom in the house to clean up. He kept it short, as when he continued to move about the house he really started to feel his physical and emotional exhaustion. He sighed and rubbed his face with a towel once he stepped out of the shower. He looked at himself in the mirror for a few moments. This experience had really aged him…After dressing he wandered back to the couch, flopping down on it like a concrete block. He wrestled with the blankets and tried to get comfortable. As tired as he was, he hated sleeping recently. He said a short prayer for a quiet, black sleep.

Nick had finally gone to bed around 6am after some tossing and turning. He was a heavy sleeper so Zerachiel’s tiptoes were unneeded. He should have told her of that but it had slipped his mind. He rolled onto his back, his arm draped over his eyes as he let out a few snores while he remained in his unconscious state. His mouth hung open a little while he snored on. Zerachiel had been outside for a little while as he started to stir.

He opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. Panic rose through him. He wasn’t in his bed? He sat up and looked around. It took him a few moments to gather in the scenery. He was in his home…So why was he in the couch? Very slowly his memory, well, parts of it, started to return to him. His recollections of last night were quite blurry. He remembered the bar…and the blonde..but it started to get confusing and really fuzzy there. He frowned and looked around. Slowly he laid back on the couch and shut his eyes as his head started to throb.

He opened one eye and reached out for the bottle of pain medication. The water bottle had been knocked over and was underneath the table. He couldn’t remember what he had dreamed last night, and he considered that to be a great blessing right now. Groaning as he grasped the bottle, he cracked the plastic cap and popped the oval pills in his mouth, swallowing half of the bottle in the process of washing them down. Nick was still quite tired for his sleep had been more of a nap than actual rest. Still…wasn’t it Saturday? At least he didn’t have to work.

[ZERACHIEL]

The sky grew pale as the sun rose above the horizon, dispelling the darkness that had once enveloped the town. Birds chirruped as if to welcome the first light of day, alighting on the pavement and bathing in the rainwater that had collected in the subtle slope of the earth. Zerachiel observed as they fluttered their wings, meticulously preening their feathers, their birdsong reverberating down the once silent street. She listened to the inherent melody, admiring her Father’s creatures, as well as His creation in its entirety; the sunrise was certainly a remarkable sight, which soothed her, alleviating the aftereffects of the dream. Michael may not approve of her decision; however, she would not remain an idle bystander in this war—especially now that humanity was involved. There were countless lives at stake and her brethren were wrong to take advantage of God’s children.

Crossing the threshold into the house, the angel entered the living room. She was surprised to see Nick awake, examining him silently as he partook in what she assumed to be a variety of medication; at least it did not appear to be food. Even now, he looked tired, although slightly better than last night. Zerachiel remained standing, studying his movements carefully. She had been alive since the dawn of time, yet she still did not fully comprehend humans, especially their emotions and body language; her kind were not intended to do so—they were merely created to serve. Carrying out orders was a great deal easier than thinking for one’s self; the Lord bestowed free will upon man, not the angels. Disobeying her superiors, selecting the path she now walked, were both difficult choices for her to make. What she did was not right; it was perverse.

However, her loyalty to God and her loyalty to Michael contradicted one another; it confused her.

Slowly, she stepped forward, not wanting to frighten the man. “Good morning Nick,” Zerachiel greeted, finally making her presence known. “How do you feel?” She kept her distance, gazing down at him expectantly. People required three meals a day and she supposed he needed breakfast; a nice meal would be beneficial to his overall health. She ate from time-to-time, although she did not enjoy their cuisines; relying on food was a weakness, and the more she consumed on a daily basis proved how quick she was losing her immortality. How could she protect humans when she was becoming one? It would surely be a lot more complicated, but she was not willing to concede defeat. Her duty to man was all that she had; otherwise Zerachiel was useless. “Is there anything I can do to help?”