I sighed, looking down as Michael gave me the orders. I was all too familiar with the "job" by now, carrying a soul to the final stage of death. It had never been fun but he also knew death came in its own time and time was never wrong.

I peered over the empty spot formed in the clouds, my eyes widening slightly. It was a girl, with brown hair and auburn curls, struggling on life support. "They're going to pull the plug," I heard from behind me. I looked back to Michael, my eyebrows pulling together in frustration.

"Why? She can make it." This was a new response from me and it was written all over my brother's face. Never in all of my centuries had I argued with an order. There was something unsettling inside myself; was it the fact that I was usually unsympathetic and uncaring with my delivering that I was scared for this girl?

"She has been fighting for too long. This is her time," my brother answered, his eyes showing patience that only he could. Gabriel was fierce, Zechariah being brutal and ill- tempered. But Michael was kind and humorous, the best of all of the brothers.

"I don't like this," I mumbled, but positioned my body for flying. My wings were still tucked in but ready to spread when I willed them.

"Is it the mission or is it the girl?" Michael inquired, crossing his arms but holding no hostility in his stance.

I shook my head, already diving through the atmosphere. I knew at one time, there had been an angel just like me, one who had brought me to Heaven once. But things changed and I, being as I was trained to have no emotion or attachments, became the new angel of to blame for the loss of life.

The landing was gentle, my wings still staying visible but not spread out. However, the girl's spirit was wild and hysterical, most likely from seeing the man next to her bedside. She tried desperately to get his attention, even hitting him in an attempt to get him to hear her, much less see her.

"He won't hear you." My voice was soft compared to much times, but chills instantly traveled through my spine as she turned on her heel to confront me.

"I know that!" she snapped, crossing her arms like Michael had before. "What I want to know is why he can't."

I sighed, turning and leaning on the bar of her bed gently, my hands settling on it as well. "Because you're not in your body. You're dead, really. I just have to get you to where you belong now."

"No!" Her tone had risen in anger, her eyes showing just how much the thought pained her. "You can't.." Silence was over them until I found the words to say. That was one of the gifts I had in my life; I was a master at manipulation and could make anyone believe anything I told them if it hit the right places. And I found those places against every crevice.

"Just let go," I whispered, pushing off the bar until only inches separated them. "It'll be much easier that way. You'll be out of pain and your boyfriend could move on. He wouldn't have to spend every waking moment at your side. Don't you want what's best for him?"

"Well yes, but-" she started, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

"But nothing." My hand moved to focus her on her boyfriend's face, already knowing that I hit home the second her eyes laid on his figure. "He's suffering far more than you are ever going to at point. You have to let go." My last sentence was merely out in a whisper, knowing that softness would push her over the edge.

"What'll happen to me if I do?" she asked, the question almost choked out.

"You'll go to Heaven." I focused my attention on the man before me beginning to scream her name: Skye.

"Let's go," Skye said, turning and blinking back more tears. Her breath shook as she pulled me into an unwilling hug. I put one hand on her waist and took off, feeling the quick air brush off my feathers and the remaining echos of her name.

I came to a sudden stop, hearing the sobs below me. And strangely, for the first time since I had become an angel, I wanted to hold her closer than she was and comfort her, a human. Why did I want to assure that she would see her other half again?

And in the same moment of my last thought, the tears and sobbing stopped. Her arms removed themselves from me and she was radiant with a joy that only Heaven could supply.

She began to take the solid road of gold when she turned back to me. "What's your name?"

My eyebrows pulled together in confusion, almost shocked at the new kindness she had found. "What?"

Skye laughed, putting her hands in her pockets and giving me a look of amusement. "I asked you for your name."

"Grant," I took a step towards her, a smile almost appearing on his lips.

"What a name for angel.." she mused, her eyes bright with curiosity. Her former sorrow was gone as if she had forgotten it. "Most names are old-fashioned."

My lips pressed together for just a moment. She was reminding me of what I already knew; I was nothing like my brothers. They had always been angels but I was made into one by my Father's request. But my answer came before my mind could catch up with me. "I suppose there are few who were once human but became angels if they were deemed worthy." Angel. The word gnawed at the back of my mind still, mainly because I was never an intentional creation. I was simply a replacement for the heartless man before me.

'Well, worthy one, I'll see you later." She turned on her feet and walked away, almost like she was a feather in the air. What was it that made her get under his skin? Or that made her truly think about her was never actually meant to be what he was?

I waved the idea away, turning to find Michael behind me. His eyebrows raised, a small smile on his lips but his eyes moving around my face in analyzation. He saw through me better than most of our kin but not quite all the way.

"Quite friendly with the new passenger, are we?" He pointed to the figure that was slowly disappearing, a smirk sketching onto his mouth to replace his smile.

"Shut it, brother," I mumbled in response, crossing my arms to keep my image of rough edges to par. "She's just a girl. It's not like I haven't done this before, you know."

"Right. Well, don't be late for the dinner. Father wants to speak with us." Michael passed by me, nudging me as he went. He laughed, his laughter soon filling the clouds before fading out eventually.