It's perhaps the most painful moment of his life, aside from the distant memory of warm blood on his hands. He's not entirely sure if he pulls the spear out or if someone

else does it for him, but he can recognize the ground as it smacks his head. Or does his head smack the ground? He tries to cover the dark hole in his chest, a

spearhead once buried in his ribs, but his hands aren't working like they should. He can hear screaming in the distance, a pained, destroyed kind of sound that doesn't

sound quite human. The sleeves of her dress brush against his shoulder and her face swims into focus. Her bright eyes pierce his vision and he grunts at the stinging in

his torso, spreading through his body like liquid fire in his veins until his body is screaming. Nuala grips his shoulders like she's trying to hold him down. He didn't realize

he was moving. How could he, with such pain rippling through him? She hovers over him, her lips trembling, her fingers shaking as she runs them across his cheek,

blue blood coating her fingertips and crusting beneath her nails. She sniffles and he can feel the earth sigh beneath him, as if at the behest of its queen. She takes his

hand in his own and he feels utterly at peace with everything. He blinks once, twice, three times to erase her crushed expression from his view. He finds the strength

to raise a quivering hand to her face, his weakening fingertips flitting across the faint scar along her cheek. She sees stars so bright they outshine the moon. She sees

a kiss planted on blue lips, waterfalls running over moss covered rocks, and the smell of freshly cut grass invades her senses in the most intimate way. She sees

feathers rise in the air as the pillows cushion their fall from ecstasy. She sees violet eyes staring out into a new world, wonder written plainly in such small irises. S

he hears laughter, such joyous laughter, and feels a hand in hers. She sees pale feet running bare across a dewy lawn, blades of grass caressing the soles. She feels

a kiss on her cheek, on her neck, across her shoulder, and hears a sigh. She sees blinding sunlight, thinks to cover her eyes before she realizes that it isn't sunlight at

all. It dims quickly, as if extinguished, and Abe's hand falls. He exhales slowly, his eyes blinking rapidly to regain his blurring vision. He thinks of how her face shines

in the sunlight and how that really, truly is sunlight warming his skin, her arms wrapped around his torso with an iron grip, her nails digging into his back. He doesn't

feel it, though, because he's so caught up in staring into her fathomless eyes, eyes that drip golden tears that glisten in the- glorious, graceful, wonderful- sunlight.

He sees the orange rays cascade upon them like embers in the rain as her face fades into the vision of an angel, her feathery wings wrapped around his torso with a

familiar iron grip, her nails digging into his back. He doesn't feel it, though, because the sunlight has stolen his vision. The wings fold around him, tightening their

feather-soft grip of steel, and he knows nothing.

Maybe Abe got into a fight with someone. After all, his job is a dangerous one. ;) Please R&R.