Inspired by the Left Behind series, taking place at the end of Tribulation. Note: This was written before I actually read the last book, 'Glorious Appearing', so forgive any event/timing errors. When stories actually come to me in a dream, I don't argue; I just write.

Left Behind belongs to its respective owners. Trying to sue me over this story will make Baby Jesus cry.

Never a Sin

Shannon was watching the news when the doorbell rang. Part of her didn't want to answer it. It didn't seem to matter anymore. Less and less seemed to matter anymore. She stayed where she was, in her faded forest green bathrobe, her eyes red from crying, her dark hair flat and lifeless as it cascaded down her shoulders and back. She was faintly aware that she was hungry, thirsty, and more than a little ripe. This too didn't seem to matter anymore. The back of her right hand began to itch, first a little bit, then it gradually increased to a madding amount. Good, she thought. I hope it falls off. I hope it rot and falls off and I bleed to death. I should have been dead – what -- five 'judgments' ago? Seven? Ten? The sad part was, even now, she still placed mental quotations around the word 'judgment'. She was still a faithful GC lemming. That was funny, in all the wrong ways. She began to chuckle. Then openly laugh. As the world began to enter her final moments on her television screen, Shannon was howling with laughter. It was the sound that would send a small child running for their mother (if there had been any children left); a terrible, haunting, empty sound. The sound one makes when they laugh when all they truly want to do is cry.

The person outside, the one who rang the bell, must have heard her laughing because they rang it again. And again. And again. It sounded as though they were leaning on the blasted thing. Her laughter, as sick and tired as it was dies in her throat. Why wont they go away? she wondered. She kept her attention focused on the screen, where the GC Peacekeepers were finally had the terrorists cornered in Israel. After seven years of back and forth, the good guys were finally going to win. Then everything would be fine, just like Carpathia had promised. Get rid if the so-called Christians (those insane cultists!), the Judda-ites (terrorists!) and the Jews, and finally, finally, true lasting peace would be theirs. Free from the insurgents, these fundamentalists, who poisoned their water and killed their fellow man and blamed their God, and The Global Community would be free. When Carpathia said this, she had believed him. She always had and always would. At first it was a choice. Now she needed him to be right. Because the alternative --

The person outside had given up on the bell and had resorted to pounding on her front door with what sounded like both hands. "Shannon!" a muffled voice called from outside, and it was enough to get her attention. That sounded like -- but no, it couldn't be. There was no way she would show her face in public again. It would behoove her to hide under whatever rock she had crawled under when all this began, bid her time until -- until --

Until what? Shannon asked herself. The end of the world? Take another look at the screen. That's today. Brice Willis be damned: This is Armageddon!

"Shannon, please be home!" the voice yelled again. Shannon replied by turning up the TV to drown the sound out. Gunfire and a running commentary of what was a sure victory for the GC drowned out the sound. Shannon leaned back on her couch. Of course the GC was winning. They had to. They just had to, or it was all for nothing, and she had placed her faith in the wrong god, at what may be the worst possible time in human history.

When the rock came crashing through the widow next to her door, she jumped, but more of out of reflex that genuine fear. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone carefully put their hand through the shattered pane of glass, and reach around for the deadbolt on her door. Oddly enough this didn't worry her. Violent crimes was at an all time high these last few years. Hers was the only house on the block that hadn't been broken into yet. She was starting to feel left out.

Maybe they'll rape me to death. Wont that be nice? she though bitterly.

The deadbolt finally turned, and the hand slipped back though the glass. A moment later, the door swung open. Shannon never looked up. Just make it quick, she silently pleaded.

"Shannon!" the person called again once she was through the door. She knew that voice. It was her!

The door slammed shut, there was the sound of running footsteps, and then a sudden pressure on her chest as Angela ran and dove into her arms, her blonde hair trailing behind her and then settling and her back, as though in slow motion. She was crying. Shannon could feel her tears on her chest where her robe had opened slightly from Angela's impact.

Shannon made no move to hold her back. She tried to speak, and found her throat scratchy and dry. She had to clear it several times before she was able to croak out: "Come home to gloat?"

Surprised by the question, Angela's head snapped up, as she tried to make eye contact with Shannon, who was still staring at the television. "N-no," she said. "Of course not! I just came to --"

"I have to report you, you know," Shannon cut her off. "Unless you've come to your senses and accepted the mark of loyalty."

Angela lowered her head. "You know I haven't." she said softly. " I can't."

Still not looking at her 'guest', Shannon reached over to the end table on just the other side of arm of the couch, and picked up the cordless phone there. She dialed 216 and brought it to her ear. Angela only held her tighter. Why wont you run? Shannon wondered.

"GC Peacekeepers," the man on the other side replied in a monotone voice.

"There's a woman who just broke into my house who has not accepted Carpathia's mark," Shannon stated matter-of-factly. "Please come and pick her up."

"Right away ma'am," the man said politely. "May I have your address, please."

Shannon told him.

"We will have a team there shortly," he informed her. "Please accept my thanks of the behalf of the entire Global Community."

"Mm-hmm," Shannon replied, then hung the phone up, tossing it casually aside.

"I missed you," Angela said from where she was, kneeling down in front of Shannon with her arms warped around the woman's torso, her head finding that perfect spot on Shannon's chest, like no time had passed at all.

Shannon blinked. She had expected Angela to bolt. If anything, she was holding on tighter still. "Why are you still here?"

"I just wanted to be with you… you know, at the end," Angel explained.

Shannon pointed at the screen with the remote. "It's the end, alright," she said.

Angela spared a quick glace at the television, then turned back to look up into Shannon's eyes. She nodded. "Armageddon. Captured on live television. I'm not sure if I should laugh or cry."

"You should run," Shannon suggested. Her eyes remained locked on the TV.

"I'm not afraid of the GC," Angela said. "I'm not going anywhere."

"They'll make you take the mark." Shannon warned.

"I wont," Angel said again.

"Then they'll kill you." Shannon countered.

"I'm not worried about that either," Angela said simply.

"Let's not go there again," Shannon said wearily.

"No," Angela agreed. "Let's not."

Silence, save for the endless supply of propaganda coming from the screen. Shannon finally found the mute button and shut it up.

"I never stopped loving you," Angela said at last.

Was that snapping sound only in Shannon's head, or could the whole town hear it?

Shannon shook Angela's arms off of her, and grabbed the other woman by the shoulders. With more strength or passion that she had displayed in months, she shook her one-time lover with all her might.

"How dare you come in here and say that?" she screamed. "You left me, remember? You decided that a stupid book and your new thug friends were more important than our ten-year relationship! You're the one who told me that our life together was wrong, that I should get myself saved, that I was going to go to hell if I followed Carpathia. You --"

Angela didn't fight it, allowing herself to be thrown around by Shannon's rage until the screaming stopped. The fury in her ex's voice and eyes cut her to the core, and she deserved it. When Shannon finally ran out of words, reared her hand back and slapped her across her face, she rolled with it as well. She deserved that, too.

Angela slowly brought her head back around, and looked up at Shannon, whose hand was hanging in mid air after the blow. She was panting in sorrow and rage, and tears were beginning to form in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said. It wasn't enough, but it was all she could say.

"You should be," Shannon spat at her. She absent-mindedly scratched the back of her right hand - the one that she had used to slap Angela - with her left. Angela couldn't make out the three digit number tattooed there, but she did see the one-inch by one-inch scar of where the microchip had been injected, and knew that the number would (by some mathematical dance she didn't fully understand) equal 666.

"I'm so sorry," she said again.

Silence followed her second apology.

Finally, Shannon made eye contact with her. "Why are you here?" she asked again.

Angela made no move to embrace her again. "I told you. I wanted to be with you."

"Why now? Why after all this time?" Shannon asked. "Why when you know you'll be put to death without the mark?"

"After the Wrath of the Lamb -- I'm sorry -- I mean the world wide earthquake -- I knew that they were right, and Carpathia was wrong," Angela tried to explain. "I studied up on Christianity, their beliefs and teachings --"

"I was there too, Angela. You don't have to remind me," Shannon said.

"I knew it to be the Truth, and yet, if I accepted everything, then I had to also accept that this," she gestured at Shannon and herself, "was wrong. A sin."

Shannon turned her head sharply and crossed her arms over her chest. She had heard all this before.

"You think this was easy for me? Loving you even though everything else I've come to believe told me to feel that way was a abomination? I broke it off with you to save myself; I had to live in accordance to what I then knew to be True. But it wasn't enough that I was saved, I wanted to save you too!"

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you broke my heart," Shannon said coldly.

Angela lowered her head. "Maybe. Maybe I could have handled it differently." She looked back up. "But I didn't know how. You have to believe me, I was afraid for you, I wanted you to make it through the Tribulation ok! I handled it wrong -- all wrong -- but when you made it through every single judgment, I kept hoping that there was still time! But then--"

"But then this," Shannon said, and held up her right hand, with the Mark of the Beast upon it.

Angela nodded slowly. "You chose your side," Angela said. "And I chose mine. So I had to go away once the Mark was enforced, or I would face execution. But I had to come back."

"You still haven't told me why," said Shannon.

Angela blinked at her in surprise. "Haven't you been paying attention? I love you!"

"I thought that was a sin," Shannon reminded her.

"Something I've come to learn," Angela said as she drew close to Shannon again, "is love can never be a sin. I never should have left you, regardless of your choice. I should have been right by your side, if you converted or not, until the GC came to drag me away. That was my mistake. I'm here now to fix it. Or at least try to. I love you. And if that's a sin, well, fuck it, I don't care anymore."

Shannon looked at the woman kneeling before her, really looked for perhaps the first time since she had arrived. She wanted to be angry with her. After all, she had all the right in the world to be angry with her. She turned her back on them, then had the audacity to preach at her. How could she just walk away from everything they had had, and shared overnight? All on the word of some book written thousand of years ago by men long dead? Did the fact that Angela was willing to spend her last moments on earth with her make up for that? Not really, if you considered that she and the Juddah-ites had been right all along. If this was truly the end of their so-called Tribulation, than it really didn't matter if they executed her now.

But --

Shannon knew that was not why Angela was here. She wasn't worried about her last moments on earth. She was worried about Shannon's eternity.

Shannon was still mad. But she was also lonely; she had missed Angela terribly. Mostly however, she was afraid.

"What happens now?" she asked, her voice less than a whisper.

Angela looked up at her, and smiled. "Still have your photo albums?" she asked.

The first genuine smile to touch her face in years crossed Shannon's face. "Of course," she said.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Though the Global Community put up a valiant "everything is ok" front, the fact of the matter was, it took a long time to get anything accomplished anymore. As such it took a full four hours after Shannon's phone call before a GC van finally arrived outside her house. Armed, uniformed peacekeepers stepped out (only two, one male and one female, as they were notoriously short-staffed), and proceeded to the door to find it opened.

They called out and identified themselves as the walked in (standard procedure, of course) and drew their weapons when they heard no reply from the owner of the residence. The living room was cleared in short order. Then the dinning room and kitchen followed suit. The pair carefully proceed up the stairs, where the door for the master bedroom stood wide open.

The male peacekeeper nodded to his partner. She stood to one side, out of sight, as he made in entrance, taking a in a breath to yell --

-- but threat of 'Freeze! GC Peacekeepers!' died in his throat at the sight before him. He lowered his gun. His partner, puzzled entered the room beside him. Her left eyebrow arched in surprise.

Two women were fast asleep in each other's arms on the bed. Pillows and comforters in total disarray around the room, a sheet hap-hazardily covering their bare bodies. An the floor at the foot of the bed, there was an opened photo album, and beside that, a heap of clothing and a robe.

The brunette stirred slightly, and opened her eyes. After a moment, they focused on the two peacekeepers. They widened in shock, but soon returned to their normal size. She lifted her right hand from where it lay across the other woman's chest, and held the back of it up to them, the mark plainly visible. They holstered their weapons at once.

Shannon looked down at Angela's sleeping form, and her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. She looked up, making eye contact with the female peacekeeper, pleading with her silently.

The male peacekeeper missed this completely, and took a step into the room, again taking a breath in to speak and arrest the other, mark-less woman. He turned to his partner in surprise when she grabbed his arm.

"Looks like un-Marked perpetrator got away," she whispered.

"What do you mean?" he replied in a normal voice. "She's right --"

The female GC placed herself between her partner and the two women. "She. Got. Away," she repeated slowly.

A moment of silence followed, then a look of understanding crossing his face, he nodded. "Its not like were getting paid overtime for this anyway," he shrugged, turned, and left. With a smile and a wink, his partner followed suit.

Shannon relaxed all most immediately. She lay back down, placing her arm around Angela's sleeping form once more. The blonde woman smiled in her sleep and instinctively pulled Shannon closer. She didn't resist, and curled up behind her, placing her head on Angela's shoulder. She fell asleep with a smile on her face, happy for the first time in years.

When the world outside finally ended, neither woman noticed. Damnation would claim one; the other, salvation.

Shannon greeted her eternity with her held head high.

Those last few hours were all the Heaven she needed.

"In an indifferent universe, the only choice we have is to love one another."
-Silvercry