Yay for really short, really pointless oneshots!

Sam was covering her eyes, looking away from him, and he didn't understand why.

"Sam? Sam, what's the matter?"

"I can't look at you, Danny."

"What do you mean?"

"You're too bright."

He looked down at himself, and his legs were clad in his usual jump suit. Bystanders were crowding around, staring at him. The child he had saved moments ago was crying into the sleeve of his mother. When the chunk of building had fell during his fight, he had acted without thinking, selflessly thrown himself in the way. He had gotten up and brushed himself off, and to his dismay, he couldn't turn back. He couldn't turn human.

The crowd began whispering things, and Danny heard each word as a dissonant note inside his head.

An angel. He's a God damn angel.

He looked towards the cars that littered the side of the street, examining himself in their reflections, and if he had a heart, it would have skipped a beat. His hair, once a grimy silver color, was pure white. The color of snow and clouds. His eyes were a soft blue-green, and they seemed almost cat like. His jumpsuit was torn in several places, exposing patches of scar-less skin. What frightened him the most were the wings that were sprouting out of his back, like giant props that didn't seem quite right on his frame. His tan skin glowed, almost absorbing the light right out of the atmosphere.

"Sam?"

"I-I think you're dead, Danny. Really dead."