In the Night

Jemma kept her head bowed as the voice met her ears, her breath hitching in her throat. Azrael. It had to be him. It had to be. Slowly, deliberately, Jemma raised her eyes to her shadowy hallway, searching for the familiar red eyes that she had not seen in eight months.

Tears welled in her eyes, distorting her vision of the figure ten feet from her. Her arm dropped away from the small table that she had been using to try and pull herself to her feet.

"What do you want?" she whispered, utterly defeated.

The large wolf she addressed moved toward her slowly, "My name is Cassian. I came to ensure the safety of the heir."

"Did...did he send you?" she asked softly, a thread of hope working its way into her voice. "Is he ali-- ah." Her words faded into a pained groan and she clutched at her belly, able to feel something moving around viciously.

"Are you able to stand?" the creature asked, bypassing her questions altogether. Jemma gave a slight nod as she struggled to push herself to her feet. The animal moved to her side, allowing her to rest her hand on his shoulders for balance. She managed to make it to the couch before another contraction struck.



11:34 P.M.

Jemma struggled to breathe, a hazy cloud pushing at the corners of her vision. Pain rippled along her body. She wanted nothing more than for Azrael to be at her side.



11:59 P.M.

The sharp cries of a newborn pierced her ears, and a final smile graced her lips before she slipped into a warm abyss.



12:03 A.M.

Cassian's attention was on the new child, carefully working a blanket around the small beast with his teeth. He swiveled his head toward the woman when he was finished, parting his jaws to speak, but hesitating when he saw her eyes partially opened and focused on the ceiling. He didn't realize that the sharp smell of blood was growing stronger until that moment, seeing the red liquid continue to pool between her legs. He didn't understand. She was essentially immortal after her trip to his world, how could this happen?

Hastily, he rested his head on the newborn's stomach, transporting them both through the gateway into Purgatory.



"Sir!" Cassian barked, leaving the child in the grand entry room of the palace, attended by several other wolves. "Azrael!" He skidded to a halt in his master's bedroom doorway, the man perched on the edge of the bed. He looked utterly exhausted, the majority of his exposed body covered with a mark of some kind or another.

The Reaper lifted his eyes to the wolf, sitting up a little straighter. "What happened?" he rasped.

"The heir is here. He is healthy. He is safe."

"And Jemma?" he frowned. "You were to bring her as well, Cassian."

"She...she is dead, sir."

Azrael jerked to his feet, staring at the animal. Just as Cassian was sure that he was going to attack him, The Reaper vanished from sight.



12:16 A.M.

Azrael found himself in Jemma's living room, his back to the couch. "Jemma!" he called, twisting around at the stench of blood. He faltered at the sight of her, covered in cooling blood from the waist down and her eyes staring blankly ahead. He managed to stumble a few steps toward her before crumpling to his knees at her side.

"J-Jemma," he whispered, grasping her face shakily. "Jemma, wake-up," he breathed. "You can't be gone. I made sure that you could never be taken from me. I made sure of it. I already collected your soul when you first came to my realm. I gave you back an extension of mine. We're connected. I didn't feel you pass. I didn't feel you leave. You can't be gone."

His lips quivered as he stared at her, and he felt a foreign moisture well in the corners of his eyes. "Jemma, sweetheart, wake up," he whispered, "Wake up. Please, wake up. I love you. I need you. I need you here with me." The strange wetness rolled down his cheeks.

Desperately, he pressed a hand to the blanket covering her rounded abdomen, trying to heal and reverse whatever injury had caused the fatality. He watched for any sign of life, but that was not his specialty. Life was not his area of jurisdiction.

The pain hit him like a brick. He twined his arms around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest, learning for the first time in his life how it felt to be on the other side of his work, learning what it felt like to feel loss, learning what it felt like to cry.

He hadn't been there to protect her, to comfort her, to witness the birth of their child. He had thought it would be for the better. He thought that her thinking he was dead was for the best. She wouldn't have to see the ugly scars that riddled his body. She wouldn't have to see him in pain and she wouldn't have to experience. She could go about her life.

He had struggled with his decision for some time. He had wanted to visit her. He wanted to love her. But after watching her so selflessly run outside of his dwelling to find help, after seeing the terrorized look on her face when she was being stared down by vicious, disembodied souls, he thought it better to disappear from her life. He cemented the decision by remembering any and all hateful words that she had ever flung at him.

He remembered that he was the monster. The "demon", as she had once called him. She was the innocent, sweet angel that he had taken everything from.

He clutched her tightly to his body, trembling. "I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. I will always love you."



2:03 A.M.

Azrael looped his arm beneath her knees and behind her shoulders, lifting her into his arms, the blanket draped over her billowing beneath in front of him.

He transported them to his realm, appearing in the palace's doorway. Wolves were all around, many having come to see the new heir.

The Reaper slowly walked past them, heading down the dimly lit hallway. He veered in the opposite direction of his bedroom and down a different corridor.

Azrael entered a small room, gently resting Jemma's body on a raised stone slab. Methodically, he began to clean the blood from her skin, feeling numb. He still didn't understand why she had died. She shouldn't have.

When he was finished, he dressed her in a simple, modest gown that he had intended to give her to wed him in, before he had decided to disappear from her life altogether.



He didn't leave her side for another five hours, when one of his wolves summoned him to check on his child. He followed the creature languidly, covered in Jemma's blood.

Upon reaching the small, boisterous creature, he glared at him contemptuously, disgust evident on his face.

"You killed your mother."