"He's coming."
Penryn sat on the side of their bed and tugged socks over her feet. "What is it about mornings that make you extra cryptic, Raffe?"
"I'm not being cryptic," Raffe grumbled. He scooted over the sheets until he was right behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist. He kissed her shoulder as a good morning.
"You totally are." Penryn deepened her voice to match Raffe's pitch. "'He's coming.' You make Michael sound like the Dark Lord, not one of your old archangel buddies."
"I wouldn't exactly call him a buddy," Raffe said, nuzzling Penryn's neck. She was so warm, so damn soft. Even after all this time, it felt so good to touch her without guilt or restraint. He never wanted to stop now that he could.
"Buddy or no buddy, he's coming either way." Penryn reached back to stroke Raffe's head. His lips against her bare skin and his firm grip around her waist tempted her to climb back into bed and cozy up with Raffe for the rest of the morning, or at least until a less ungodly hour than five in the morning.
Instead she yanked her boot on.
"And since you're going to be our unofficial Messenger of Man, maybe you should be a bit more friendly towards him."
"Don't see why. All the heads of states are sending representatives to be there to negotiate with him. Not to mention you will be there."
"Yeah, I bet he's shaking in his boots. We agreed he'd be more likely to listen to someone from his own kind, not one of the monkeys. Just talk to him, archangel to archangel."
"In case you haven't noticed, archangels don't really get along with each other."
"It must have something to with all that alpha-dog, king-of-the-holy-mountain power trip you all are on."
Raffe bit her earlobe. "Plague. I missed the days when you were still dazzled by magnificence."
"Pretty sure I was still plague-ish back then."
"Yeah, but you always had that awestruck look in your eyes that said 'take me, Raffe, you big strong handsome-'" He darted sideways just in time to avoid her jab, but not fast enough when Penryn launched herself at him.
"You-are-such-an-ass," she huffed as they wrestled, both of them laughing and roughhousing like children.
He might have been stronger, but she was quicker and meaner. She pinned him down under her and held down his biceps.
"Still looking dazzled?" she asked, grinning.
Even as she straddled him, he smirked and tucked his hands under his head as if he were completely under control. "I don't know. It's a pretty nice view from where I'm looking."
She rolled her eyes but kissed him anyway. Then, despite Raffe's groan of protest, she hopped off the bed and jammed her other foot into the remaining boot.
"Hold that thought until tonight," she said. She shrugged on her jacket, pecked Raffe's cheek, and strode out to deal with her duties in the World After.
Humanity, Penryn decided later that day, had not been worth saving.
After the uneventful morning patrol, she found herself confronted by the Liberty Group (a lofty name for a bunch of pimply-faced morons who decided to form a political party when there technically weren't any elections or even a functioning government). This week, they decided to yell at her about invasion of privacy and the so-called "census," which was basically a giant address book that kept track of where everyone was living now that they had spread out to the surrounding neighborhoods and moved into houses. And was a good sign because that meant the former Resistance wasn't packed in like sardines in camps or random buildings anymore.
She managed to escape their clutches only to have to break up a fight in one of the community gardens. Some genius had decided to plant marijuana next to the carrots, which offended the delicate sensibilities of another equally intellectually gifted peer. The argument had devolved into a full-fledged fistfight by time Penryn had arrived (with Dee and Dum already taking bets). One of the ace gardeners missed his target and ended planting his fist in Penryn's face.
The fighters shut up and froze quickly after that, but it didn't save them from her wrath. She banned both of them from the gardens and made some suggestions to where they could go shove the weed and carrots.
Then came the earthquake. It was a small one and caused no damage, other than setting off her mother's doomsday cult. Her lunch hour was spent with her mother lecturing her on how the earthquake heralded a new wave of demons ascending from hell. Penryn couldn't convince her to shut the ruckus down, but Paige intervened and convinced their mother to take her apocalyptic groupies to the beach and away from the civilians.
The last straw snapped when Thermo stopped by her to tell that someone set off a dozen stink bombs in the Angel camp. It was the third prank this month and normally Penryn secretly found it funny that someone had the ability to sneak past demigod warriors to pull middle school pranks. This time, however, the thought of having to go make nice with a bunch of pissed-off, smelly angel warriors made her want to scream.
Thermo, knowing a ticking bomb when he saw one, was quick to reassure her.
"The Commander's already dealing with it," he said, already hurrying off. "Don't worry about it."
Finally, Dee told her to take a break and shooed her off. He and Dum could manage things for a couple hours while she cooled off.
"If you stick around, you'll probably stab someone with Pooky Bear," he said.
"Which would be awesome," said Dum.
"So awesome."
"But it might be one of us."
"And we're way too pretty to die young."
And thus Penryn found herself sitting on a swing set in a school playground a good mile away from the settlement and fuming about humanity.
The world had nearly ended. By some miracle, after the calamity, humans were still left standing. And they still had the energy to squabble about where they were standing and who got to stand where and who had the right to know where they were standing.
And for some unfathomable reason, she was in charge of this little patch of humanity. They looked to her as their leader and came to her with every problem, big or small. Every attempt to pass the reins on someone else, even the council, had been met with resistance.
Penryn gingerly poked her bruised cheek. Yeah, she felt the love.
By the time Penryn saw the angel, he must have only been a minute away. From the distance, she could make out a mop of blond hair and storm grey wings.
She didn't recognize him. That wasn't unusual considering she didn't know most of the ones staying at the Angel camp by name or even by face. Still, instinct had her standing up and drawing out Pooky Bear.
As his wings brought him closer, she got a better look. Like most angels, he was shirtless and showing off his well-defined (understatement of the century) chest. He was probably shorter than Raffe, but more overtly muscular. His hair was the exact shade of gold and he was the first angel she'd ever seen that had a beard.
Pooky pulsed, sweeping Penryn into a memory.
She was with Raffe, standing in a field in the aftermath of a battle. All around was blood and bodies and the moans of the dying.
The blond angel looked grimly at Raffe. He was a scary sight, standing bruised and sweaty. Blood dripped from his sword and seeped into the already soaked earth.
"Raphael." He held out his hand in greeting.
Raffe grasped it and shook it.
"Michael."
Penryn snapped back to reality just as the angel landed a good ten feet away from her.
They stared at each for a beat.
"You are Penryn Young." Just as it was in the memory, his voice was deep, almost booming even when he was speaking as quietly as he was now.
"Yeah," she said. "And you're Michael."
She lowered Pooky, silently thanking the sword for the heads up. She didn't put Pooky back in her sheath, but she wasn't stupid to think that she'd win in a one-in-one fight against an archangel, angelic sword or no.
He probably wasn't looking for a fight anyway. Or at least she hoped he wasn't.
"You're early," she said. "We were expecting you to come next week."
Something in the archangel's eyes flashed, but it was too quick for Penryn to catch. His irises were brown, so dark they almost looked black.
It made his stony scrutiny of her even more uncomfortable. Still, she tried to stay as still and impassive as possible. It was best if this little encounter ended with minimum hostility, even if it already seemed unlikely that they'd part ways friendly.
Finally, he spoke.
"I thought you would be taller."
She nearly snorted.
"You're not the first person to tell me that."
"I also thought you would be more beautiful."
"I've gotten that a lot, too." She shrugged. "I'm an acquired taste."
Michael's mouth tightened.
Okay, then. Best to keep jokes to a minimum.
"I can take you to Raffe if you're looking for him." She remembered the stink bomb attack in the Angel camp and winced inwardly. "Or I can let him know you're here-"
"I am not here to see Raphael." His lip curled. "I wanted to see his Daughter of Man."
"Okay." Not okay. Probably really, really not okay. Penryn fought hard to keep her face impassive.
"That would be you."
"Yeah."
Michael cocked his head. "Are you a simpleton as well?"
Calm, calm, stay calm.
"No."
"If you were really a simpleton, you would not be able to tell either way."
"Then I guess there's no point in asking." Penryn tried to squash her temper. He was officially an asshole, but he was still an asshole she needed as an ally.
"I suppose a simpleton would not be able to figure that out." Michael crossed his arms, making his muscles bulge in a vaguely threatening manner, at least in her opinion. "You have one or two adequate qualities then."
His eyes flickered to Pooky Bear in her hand. He frowned, as if what he was seeing did not make sense.
"I heard rumors, but I did not believe them until I saw them with my own eyes." He nodded at the archangel sword. "It is true. You can wield our swords."
"Sword. I can only wield this one." She bit back a joke about how she was a one-sword-kind-of-gal. Somehow she didn't think he would find that amusing.
"How?" he muttered, more to himself than to her.
She shrugged again.
"Probably out of convenience. Raf-Raphael couldn't wield her so I was her only option."
"No," he said. "That is not it."
He seemed pretty unhappy about that, even if he was the one admitting it.
They stood in silence while Michael brooded and stared at her.
What was it about archangels and brooding?
Two slow, silent minutes went by before Penryn broke the quiet.
"So you wanted to see Raphael's Daughter of Man. You've seen me now. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
He scowled at her, but he seemed more frustrated than hostile.
"You are not afraid of me."
Penryn took a moment to gather her thoughts.
"No," she said deliberately. She dug the tip of her sword against the ground and wrapped both her hands around the hilt. "I'm sure you're great warrior and all, and that you can easily kill me if you wanted to. That's plenty to be afraid of."
She remembered when she first met Raffe, when she told him that she wasn't afraid of him or his God. That definitely hadn't been true, and both of them knew it.
She had always been a terrible liar. Might as well tell the truth now.
"But," she continued. "I don't think you're going to kill me. You've already agreed to meet with Raphael later to figure out how to take the angels back home. I don't think you're interested in rehashing hostilities right now."
Michael didn't exactly relax, but his scowl seemed to get less intense.
"Three archangels came to Earth. Two are dead, and one is as good as Fallen. Many more of my brothers are dead and our society is in disarray. I never wanted to be Messenger, but now I have to step in at the worst time in our history. Why shouldn't I want to kill you?"
Penryn sat back down on the swing set, as if discussing her possible revenge murder was a normal topic of conversation for her.
"Gabriel was the one who brought the angels to Earth even though he hadn't spoken to God in eons, maybe never." Her voice was calm, quiet even. Her anger burned harder with every word, not hot like fire but colder and colder like ice. "He sent your brothers to Pit for violating rules he had made up in the first place. Uriel was the one who had Raffe's wings ripped off and had the angels stick around Earth, fooling them into thinking that Judgement Day was around the corner. And all the while you angels were hashing out your problems, you did your best to turn Earth into your personal hellscape. Our civilizations crumbled. Our children and friends were turned into monsters. Millions and millions of people died because of your petty politics.
"We did kill Uriel. That's on us humans. We're not sorry. We've paid the price of angels' mistakes a thousand times over. And we're done cowering. It's time for you to go home and get your house in order."
Michael didn't reply. Again, he simply studied her while she stared him down.
Some corner of Penryn's mind acknowledged how ridiculous of a portrait this must have made. A teenage girl sitting on a rusty swing set with a sword resting between her knees glaring at the leader of a demigod warrior race.
Finally, he spoke.
"I think I understand now."
She arched an eyebrow. She doubted that he was referring to their earlier conversation.
"I thought it was foolish to come to Earth in the first place," he said. "I have no love for your kind, but I have never hated them either, unlike some of my brothers. We are warriors. Humans are fragile with short and soft lives. I had believed we would have found no war with your kind, only slaughter. I had been wrong."
Penryn's fists tightened around her sword. She knew it was stupid to go on her tirade earlier, stupid to pick a fight when they had finally managed peace. She'd be damned if he tried to start another war.
"And you are right."
Penryn's jaw almost dropped. Almost.
"It is time for this madness to end. It is time for my people to come home and for order to restored."
Her mouth open and closed a few times before she could finally remember how to speak.
"Good," she managed.
"Yes."
Then Penryn remembered why they need to be on Michael's good side.
"About going home…"
It was now Michael's turn to be surprised. "Is there more?"
"Yeah. The angels should go home, but not all at once. When the legion first came in, it wrecked Earth. Floods, earthquakes, twisters-basically every disaster in the book all around the world. If you leave all at once, it might set all that off again, which would be…" she trailed off lamely, trying to find a way to say that the human race would be wiped out without making humanity sound wimpy.
"Bad?"
"Yeah."
She really wasn't supposed to be doing this. There were diplomats on route from around the world, sent from governments that had managed to hang on by a thread or were clobbered back together, who would be way better at negotiating and making deals with the other side. In any case, Raffe was supposed to be here, talking to him...archangel to archangel.
"That can be arranged," Michael said. He scrubbed a hand over his beard and raked it through his hair. "It is the honorable thing to do."
"Thank you." This was good. She should quit while she was ahead but…
Dammit. She never thought she'd have to do this. This was why Raffe should be doing this.
"Also…"
Michael gave her an exasperated look.
"What?"
"Laylah."
He nodded. "Yes, I have some idea of the atrocities she has committed. I promise you, she will be more than adequately punished for her crimes."
"As nice as that sounds, that's not why I brought her up. She's done a lot of…" Penryn couldn't bring herself to finish that sentence. The Pit was too good for what Laylah had done. "Laylah did some horrible things, but she's done her part to fix them. She gave Raphael back his wings." Twice. "She helped my sister get back to something close to normal. And she's been teaching human doctors how to help change back all the kids like me sister. She turned against Uriel before the tide turned against him. She deserves…" A second chance? No, screw that. "...leniency."
Michael set his jaw. She could practically hear his teeth grinding all the way from the swing set.
"I will not give her amnesty."
"You can talk to Raphael about what you want to do with Laylah. He'll have a better handle on any justice system you angels might have." And she couldn't stomach defending Laylah any more than she had to. "I'm only telling you that she should be judged for everything she did, not just the bad."
That didn't put much of a dent on Michael's irritation.
"I had assumed you would be jealous of Laylah."
"Believe me, I wish that was my problem with her. I don't need to like her to know fair's fair. And I'm not going to punish Raffe for having a history." Even if that history included a power-hungry angel doctor that made Dr. Frankenstein look like a candy striper.
He sighed. "I will consider your defense. Is there anything else?"
Raffe told her multiple times how reluctant Michael was to taking up the mantle of the Messenger. It hadn't really hit home until now, as she watched him deal with the more thankless bits of his role, how much he didn't want this.
As another highly reluctant leader, she could sympathize.
"Those are the two main things. There are a couple other details, but Raffe and Josiah could explain those better than I could later."
"Raphael could tell me now." Michael nodded to a dot in the sky growing bigger and bigger. "He's coming."
"About time."
"You are very eager for me to talk to him instead."
"I'm not exactly the most gifted diplomat or politician. I'm better with a sword or my fists than with words."
"I despise politics as well. With Uriel the Politician, he always said something, meant something else, and then did something entirely different. You are too unsophisticated to lie, but your blunt honesty is much more tolerable."
"Right back at you, buddy."
They both watched as Raffe drew closer, cutting through the wind as quickly as possible with his demon wings.
"His wings..." Michael murmured. "I did not want to believe that either."
Her heart clenched. She hadn't made the sacrifice, hadn't personally experienced the pain, but it still hurt all the same.
"I do not know how you convinced Raphael to give up his wings."
"If you know Raffe even the slightest bit, you know that no one makes him do anything. He makes his own decisions."
He looked away from the sky to watch her watch Raphael.
"I find it very difficult to believe that you are worth the sacrifice. You are not as beautiful as angel and I doubt you are skilled warrior without the borrowed sword."
"You say the sweetest things. You forget to mention that I don't have a nice personality either."
"I do know you very well, but I suspect you do not."
"There's one thing you're wrong about. Pooky's mine, just as much she is Raffe's."
"...Pooky?"
Before Penryn could make introductions, Raffe finally landed down between Michael and Penryn.
"You're early, Michael."
Raphael didn't turn his back to him, Michael observed. He still had enough sense as a warrior not to turn away from a potential threat.
But he positioned himself deliberately between Michael and his Daughter of Man. He took a few seconds to rake his eyes over the girl, checking to see that she was unharmed. His eyes narrowed on the bruise on her cheek.
The Daughter of Man, on the other hand, broke into a dazzling smile when she saw Raphael. It was only for a second, before she carefully schooled her expression back to neutral.
"It's alright, Raffe." The girl stood up from her perch and strode to Raphael and wrapped an arm around his waist. His arm automatically went around her shoulders, tucking her closer. "We already went over his timing. And the bruise was from earlier today."
"Humans are very soft," Michael said. "I did not think that an injury was out of the ordinary considering how fragile they are."
"I forgot how much I enjoyed talking to you, Michael," Raphael said. He already sounded weary. "You always manage to figure out how to say something with least amount of tact."
"Tact, or my lack thereof, would not be my problem if I were not the Messenger."
"Better you than me."
As he said this, Raphael and Penryn exchanged glances. In that one look, it became clear that Raphael had never made a decision about whether or not to make sacrifice. As he looked at his Daughter of Man, it was clear that there had never been an alternative to begin with for him.
I'm not exactly sure where I was going with this, but the idea popped into my head and I couldn't really shake it. Also, there's less Raffe than I originally planned. It's kind of weird, but I hope you like it. Let me know if there's anything I can improve on or if I didn't get the characters right. Thanks for reading!