Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's "Preacher." Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.

Authors Note #1: Based on the popular fan theory that Fiore and Deblanc are actually Genesis parents. I wanted to examine their backstory a bit and ended up getting ahead of myself, so-

Disclaimer:canon appropriate violence, blood, gore, injury, death, religious imagery/definitions/symbolism/discussion.

Temenos

Chapter Eleven

"They'll find it. Us. They're already coming, I can feel it." Fiore told him. Sheathing his twin swords with a resigned movement as Genesis zipped excitedly between his fingers. No more than a small pin prick of light, but with power he could feel like an electric charge as he cupped his palm around it protectively. Wondering how on earth they were going to carry it with them as he looked around at the ground at their feet.

"Then let's fight for it," he decided, tone flat-lining. Letting Genesis idle between them as he leaned down and nudged his toe against the dirty coffee tin that'd been in the cave since the day he'd discovered it.

"It isn't any use," Fiore pointed out, watching him unearth the dented container and dust it off. "We can't win."

"That it then?" he snapped with frustrated heat. Angry because Fiore was right. They would be imprisoned. Separated. Or maybe killed for good if such a thing was even possible. And Genesis? Well, they would- No, he didn't even want to think about it! Genesis was theirs and every second that Fiore stayed silent curdled the growing warmth in his chest.

"So you'd just let them?" he snarled again, heart beating a mile a minute as the little spark flickered frantically. Whizzing between the two of them – upset and anxious. "Would you stand back and do nothing? It's just a child! It doesn't know! None of it! "

Fiore's wings flared, viciously sharp. Expression thunderous as he reared back, darkening the air around their heads with an eerie ethereal light. Body language gentling only slightly when Genesis gurgled in alarm. Bobbing close beside them in the back-drafts like it knew something was wrong.

"Of course not! It's ours!" Fiore answered, expression hard as the force of the words reminded him why this had all been worth it. Why he wouldn't have changed a bit of it, even now. He closed his eyes, sucking in a brutal, constraining breath before letting it out in one condensed stream. He wouldn't have wanted Fiore and their little one any other way. Unexpected or not.

"Then we fight," he replied determinedly, holding out the container for Genesis' inspection as the little spark trundled over to sniff around the edges. Blinking tiredly. "Even if it's hopeless. Whatever happens, we do it together."

"In ya' get, love," he murmured. Waiting until Genesis had settled on the bottom before easing on the lid with an assuring little pat. "Sleep now. You'll be safe in here."

He lifted his head. Looking the angel in the eyes as something calming and still passed between them. Feeling the surety of it trickle off his tongue like every syllable carried the weight of the divine.

"I won't be ashamed. Not of it. Not of us. None of it."

There was a fraction of a second where they swayed close. Fingers brushing chastely before Fiore took another staggering step and closed the distance between them. Seizing him up in a rough, messy kiss that he pulled away from almost as quickly. Eyes blown and skin hot to the touch, just like before, but this time there was something else keen to make itself known. A feeling that whispered – that promised.

"I love you," Fiore said suddenly. Abruptly like he'd only just realized it. Wings lowering down to curl around him protectively before he took the coffee tin and hoisted Genesis high in his arms.

Their impossible little spark.

The smile that spread across his face was transformative.

Pure perhaps not in the divine way, but ultimately pure enough for them.

"And I you, my dear," he returned quietly. Leaning into Fiore's warm, leggy-weight as the soft of his secondary feathers tickled across the healing scars where his horns had been. Able to breathe freely - far freer than he had in a long time – as the rest of the world washed over him like waves breaking across a distant shore.

Uncertain of how they'd gotten here, but grateful they had, in spite of it all.

It felt like the first thing worth fighting for since the beginning.

"Traitors!"

It was worse than they'd thought.

Because in a hysterical fit of irony, for the first time since Lucifer fell, the two sides came together. Hunting them like a pack of dogs against a single, skinny rabbit as their threats and scorn followed them on the wind. Making Fiore's lips thin into a brutal, terrified line and Genesis whimper.

"Disgusting!"

They made it to the base of Heights' rock before they were surrounded. The heavenly host and the demonic army on either side - closing in. An impenetrable barrier of flesh and bone. Darkness and light.

"It must be destroyed!"

They were smeared with sticky black pitch and shining angel-red. Exhausted and heartsick. Yet equally fierce. Keeping Genesis safe between them as they fought back to back for- hours? Days? He'd lost track. All he knew was that it'd been a long time since they'd shared skin in the dark of their cave. A long time since Fiore's voice had wrenched high and breathy in pleasure. Great wings flaring out like he couldn't contain the need to-

"Abomination!"

He grunted when the jab of a spear caught him through the fingers of his ribs. Feeling the full-body stiffen of Fiore behind him as the angel let go of a piercing note and swung the sharp of his broadsword in an arc above his head. Forcing the avenging angel to fall back or taste the point of another heavenly blade.

He clutched his side, baring blunt human teeth at the demons that danced and cackled around them. Weaving in and out of the angelic host - taunting and looking for an opening. They were the easiest to ignore. But it was the way Fiore flinched - seeming to draw into himself further and further every time one of the angels scorned him - that piqued his rage. Creating wounds far deeper than any blade as the light of Fiore's halo flickered sickly blue against the orange-streaked sky.

It was a strange thing, realizing that now, more than ever, he couldn't allow himself to fall. If he died now, he would be leaving Fiore alone. Leaving Genesis. Even if he did get sent back to hell, changed as he was, he wouldn't make it back fast enough for it to make any difference.

He blinked heavily, trying to clear his vision. Tossing his head back as the loss of the familiar weight of his horns put him off balance. Sinking the sharp of his nails into the calloused-rough of his black-lined palms. Forcing himself to focus. Tunneling on the next target. The next sword, dagger or spear.

He couldn't-

"A union most unclean!"

Genesis wailed. Unhappy cries carrying through the still air. Creating unpredictable shockwaves through the surrounding armies as the power of it's displeasure rippled through the dark of purgatory. Like by sheer volume alone it could plead its case.

Fiore was deadly quiet.

Sober.

Resigned.

Yet not diminished.

He did his best to mirror that as he wobbled, unsteady on his feet.

He could feel the glare radiating from his skin.

The way his lips were pulled back like a threat.

But inside his mind was screaming.

How had it come to this? How could something that felt so good - so right - be wrong? Why did they deserve punishment when they'd found love where all others had found hatred and war? Is this what the Endless War had reaped? So blind to the idea of another way that they were willing to eradicate them just to prove a point?

They were wrong.

There was another way.

And if that was blasphemous, well, he'd gladly burn for just another breath of it.

The mood of the crowd turned impatient when he and Fiore managed to hold those brave enough to lash out back. Circling the front lines as exhaustion started to weigh. It would only be a matter of time before it was over. One way or another. They'd known it would come down to this in the beginning, but now that moment was almost here.

"If the traitors will not leave it to it's fate they will share it!"

He sensed the strain - the feeling of a hundred thousand centuries shivering - before Fiore broke their silence. Voice cracking, emotive, shaking off the dust of innocence and complacency alike as the light from his halo dimmed, seemingly by the second.

And somehow, that only made it worse.

"Punish me. But leave them be!" Fiore shouted, words trilling out into the crowd like an command and a plead. "I am to blame. I allowed this to happen - to continue. I will surrender willingly, only-"

He opened his mouth to interject. To yell that if there was anyone to blame it was him, and perhaps more importantly, to take Fiore's place. To offer himself alone and allow Fiore and Genesis to go free even though he already knew it would never happen. It seemed important to offer. But before he could voice it, another voice flared angrily to the forefront.

"You have fallen far, Fiore. You would plead for the life you and this...creature created?" A female Adelphi demanded. Pushing to the forefront of the angelic host. The same woman who'd been Fiore's preening companion in the garrison before he'd watched her burn. Her long hair done up in an elegant, braided knot on the top of her head.

"I would. A thousand times," Fiore returned, head held high. Warming him in spite of everything as the angel caught his eyes. Their fingers brushing significantly – once, then twice – before curling around their weapons again.

"Enough of this!" one of the commanders of a different hell squadron growled. Curling his lip as he sneered down at him. Old hide riddled with scars, fangs jutting and long as he slavered through every word. "Surrender or die."

"I have died before, I'm used to it," he gritted, seething. "Forgive me if I take my chances."

"Silence," a Seraphim bellowed, hovering high above them with a shining spear. Ignoring him in favor of casting his attention on Fiore alone. "If you truly repent, stand aside and allow justice to be dealt. I can promise it will be over quickly. For God's will is as merciful as it is just. Remember your loyalty, Child of Heaven."

But instead of being cowed, Fiore's wings only bristled. Flaring high and glossy-thick, stretching as high as they could reach before inching down into an aggressive fold beside him. Expression grim but steady as his angel looked at down at him without words.

The message was clear.

Together.

That was the last moment they had that was purely theirs before the commanders of both armies called for the advance.

Time was an inconsequential thing by the time he fell. Bloody hand fisting the poisoned earth as Fiore crumpled beside him like they'd been cut from the same string. Thick ribbons of red winding down strong forearms as his sword clattered against the rocks with a sound he was too far gone to hear. Wings crooked and broken as they fluttered above his head – splintered and off-center.

His thoughts felt just as fractured, bleeding out as he fought to raise his head. Sensing more than seeing the Lead Seraphim and the Hell Commander approach, egged on both their forces. His vision blurred, forcing him blink rapidly just to keep them in focus. Conscious of Fiore trying and failing to stand as his broken wings creaked painfully – a mess of broken flights and gore-streaked plumage.

Everywhere he looked all he saw was a press of bodies. Skill. Steel. Swords. A deafening cacophony of the end as they kept Genesis safe between them. Watching their deaths approach as Fiore's hand found his - grasping him fiercely.

It was a goodbye.

The last one they would ever-

But then, before the swords could fall, the distant mountain that had not moved since the fall of God's favorite child, trembled.

And just like that, Heaven and Hell fell into chaos.

It appeared as though someone upstairs didn't agree.

The last thing he registered before exhaustion took him was the moment where the rolling clashes of dying syllables ordered themselves into something – maybe even a voice - that made every Seraphim sink to bended knee. And every demon - save for him – to fall howling to ground. Fiore's hand was still in his, grinding the bones of his hand to dust as the angel looked up to the mountain. Expression reverent and transported as his God spoke onto him - perhaps for the first time.

Finding something to dig roots for when Fiore wrapped his arms around him, pulling him and Genesis – a being they'd born into this world because what they felt for one another had borders, no divisions or rules – into the cradle of his lap. Pressing him up against his chest so that the words rebounded through the purity of Fiore's bones, softening the volume and weight so that the lilting words slowly started to take shape in his mind's eye. Giving him flickers of a dying sunset on a distant desert plain and a woman skimming her toes in a lazy country creek. On growing things and the sound of human child laughing. The smell of fall in the mountains. The old must of worn leather and a thick-paste polish as a forgotten saddle came back to life in his hands.

He didn't understand the words, but Fiore could and his face was- his face was divine.

They were not alone in their love anymore.

But then again, considering the circumstances, perhaps they'd never been.

A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – This story is now complete.