Golden Crosses

All your golden crosses hanging by a single thread,
Remember what you want and forget what the good book says.

The sound of wings fluttering filled the air, and he could feel a presence behind him as he watched the mild current flow through the river. It was a sound he’d gotten far too used to, a presence that he could always sense.
He turned around just in time to see her dark wings slowly fade into a shadow, until they were virtually invisible to his human eyes.

She took a few steps forward and joined him as he sat on the creaky, old jetty, swinging his legs off the side. This small boathouse by a lake near his uncle’s house in Wyoming was his favourite place to wind down. He liked watching the trees move in the breeze as the sun set over the mountain ridges in the distance. He’d sit on the edge of the jetty and let his mind relax as the lake carried autumn leaves through the current, watching the odd fish leap out of the water. In contrast to his daily life, which consisted of being hunted by every breed of ridiculous that climbed out of the supernatural world, it was slightly comforting. It was the closest he’d ever gotten to peace.

He turned to watch his angel. Her eyes were scanning over the lake and trees vaguely, the scene not half as comforting to her now as it used to be. She was an angel now – she knew what true peace was. This, though very beautiful, was a far cry from the real deal.

“I wish I could let you see your heaven,” She said quietly, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “You’d love it.”
“It’s filled with pizza and cigarettes, right? I mean, that’s heaven. That’s a damn dream.”
She chuckled softly, and the sound was almost shocking to his ears. It had been a long time since she laughed. The prospect of having wings to control and grace burning inside her had taken a while to get used to, and being an angel was no walk in the park, she’d proved that to him very well.
It was no secret that he missed her human emotions, the way she’d laugh hysterically over the slightest of things, and how insanely stubborn she was. Now, she had a whole new can of character traits that he couldn't get used to.

“So, tell me,” he said as they walked along the shore of the river. “How’s Heaven?”
She looked up at him for a moment, before looking to the ground again. “Pretty awful, to be honest. It's corrupt as Hell, man, no pun intended.”
“I still don’t understand why all this is happening now.”
“It all started when Gabriel fell from grace. It’s been total anarchy up there ever since, because he was such a big deal, you know? Everyone's just...fighting. Some are even saying that Gabriel could be the next Lucifer. Michael is doing everything he can to ensure that won't happen.”
“What would happen if he was?”
“Armageddon, basically. Two ex-archangels in the pit? One is bad enough, two would be uproar.”
He let that sink in for a moment. He sure as Hell didn’t want Armageddon in any way, shape or form, so he silently prayed that this guy, Michael, had it in him to prevent it.
“Woah.”
“Yeah, woah.” She sighed, folding her arms. “It’s horrible. Michael is my closest brother, he’s exceptionally understanding towards the human race and he knows what he’s doing. But even though I’d rather be neutral in this war, it’s my obligation to take his side.”
“What is it with you angels and your temper tantrums? I mean, wasn’t Lucifer just throwing a really big, over the top, tantrum?”
“I guess you could say that. I dunno, it’s a big family, everyone’s fighting for attention.” Her voice was heavy, as though speaking about the topic drained her energy. “Heaven’s just incredibly corrupt, and I’m the only angel that sees it, because I’m the only angel to have ever been human beforehand.”
“You gotta admit, though,” he smirked. “It is pretty cool. You were the first angel to be created in over 5 million years, and you were the first to be created from a human body.”

She giggled embarrassedly, not wanting to dwell too much on the reasons behind her creation. He was aware that she had been told by various angels, Michael specifically, that it was her destiny. That she had been destined to be an angel all along, but she also had a destiny on earth that needed to be fulfilled first. He had no idea what that was, of course, but he figured that if he really needed to know about it, she’d have told him.
He knew that she struggled to keep faith in her father, who had created her brothers and sisters millions of years ago, and had left the job of creating her to Michael, who had waited until recent years to pluck her from the human battle field and drop her onto the celestial one. He secretly despised Michael for that, for taking his beloved and making her the God-squad’s latest recruitment.

“I just don’t know what to do.” She murmured, and he could tell that her mind was racing through her options for at least the thousandth time that day.
“You really don’t wanna take sides?” He asked, bowing his head lower in an attempt to catch her eye.
“No. I’d rather be human, to be honest.”
“Then fall.”
“Excuse me?” Her head snapped upwards, dark stands of hair bounced off her shoulders as she came to an abrupt halt.
“Fall from grace. If you don’t want to take sides, exclude yourself from having to.”

She was silent, and he knew she wouldn't speak again. He knew that his suggestion was wild, and extremely selfish. He wanted his love back. He wanted her to swear when she stubbed her toe on the legs of the coffee table, he wanted her to catch a cold so he could nurse her back to health and to scream at him when he hogged the television. Being an angel was the basic equivalent of being an indestructible brick wall.
If she fell, she would still have her wings and she’d still have her grace, but it would be limited, virtually unusable. She would be as close to human as she could be. She’d be his sweetheart, but his angel too.
Call him selfish, but he wanted love – a basic emotion programmed into human’s, helping them to fulfil their lives. Regardless of whether you’re in love with an angel, a demon, a ghoul or a human – isn’t love kind of the whole point?