Shortly after eating, Aku Aku suggested that everyone try to sleep. This was, however, underlined with the fact that he and Azraphael would keep watch over the camp for the night. Despite the previous fears and tensions of the evening, each member of the unusual group was able to get comfortable. The bandicoots all curled up close to one another, and the N-Team followed suit. Nitrus, Nolan and Neo slept near to one another in a sort of pile, and Ellie remained close to them. Simon insisted on staying as close to the fire as he could without hurting himself. He still felt that gnawing sensation in the back of his skull, and was convinced that, whatever was out there in the jungle, it was watching him specifically. He tossed and turned for most of the night, not dreaming, but nevertheless having a hard time staying asleep. Upon waking up one of the six or seven times throughout the night, he caught a small piece of a conversation between Azraphael and Aku Aku.
"If it must happen," Aku Aku said, his voice grave. "I won't interfere."
"Thank you," Azraphael replied, sounding somewhat despondent. "I only wish it didn't have to be this way."
"I can imagine. You've already done much to keep him safe, and at your own expense, too."
Azraphael laughed at this, but it was with a disingenuous tone. "My friend, you have no idea. This may cost all the progress we've made thus far, and we may never get it back." They paused, then sniffed. "I'll be lucky if I'm ever forgiven." Aku Aku had nothing to say to this, and the conversation ended there. Simon, uneasy and growing afraid once more, struggled to get back to sleep.
The next morning, he awoke to Sahl'resh sitting cross-legged next to him. He was humming something by Bach, and staring intently at Simon's broken leg. When he noticed he was being watched, he smiled warmly at the scientist. The Healer's eyes seemed to glint and flicker with an artificial light.
"Ah! Good morning!" He greeted Simon cheerily, offering him a hand to sit up. Simon took it, unsure of what to expect. He knew Sahl'resh had been called to – hopefully – finish the job with his fractured femur, but he held a certain amount of guilt within his heart for kissing the other man's Lover. Of course, he remembered Azraphael's explanation of having many Loves, but it didn't help when he had no idea what Sahl'resh thought of him, or if he knew of his advances towards the Angel.
"G-good morning," Simon muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He glanced around at the beach – they were the only two there. "Where is everyone?"
"Your friends, and err, enemies?, have gone to wash up at a nearby spring." He paused, taking a moment to read Simon's expression further. "And Azraphael has gone to see the Council. They're the organization responsible for agents like us."
"I remember Uriel mentioning a Council when he visited us." To this, the other man barked a sarcastic laugh. "What? Did I say something wrong?"
"No, no, not at all. It's just that Uriel is sometimes difficult to deal with." He paused, taking a moment to consider his next words. "Of course, I Love the man dearly, but he has a hard time letting go of old grudges." He turned his attention back to Simon's leg, leaning over it and studying it carefully. "I see you've been careful with it. That's excellent – I do believe I should have you back on your feet soon." He placed both hands carefully on Simon's thigh, beginning to focus his energy. A jolt of electricity shot into his leg, and Simon did his best to remain silent. His jaw clenched and his teeth ground together; this was far more unpleasant than the last time, perhaps only because he didn't have morphine to block out the pain. Sahl'resh noticed his discomfort, and gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it won't take but twenty minutes to finish this. I have to go slow, or it'll botch the process."
"I-I have something to tell you," Simon blurted out. His vision blurred, the pain was becoming so great. He snapped his eyes shut, forcing himself to remain calm. His heart pounded so hard, he could feel it in his throat.
"I already know." At this, Simon's eyes shot opened, and he met the other's with no small amount of trepidation. Once more, Sahl'resh gave him a warm, reassuring smile, which slightly melted the icy fear threatening to overtake him. "In fact, I've known for quite some time…but, as you know, Time is almost always relative." Simon wasn't sure if he should be relieved by Sahl'resh's understanding, or afraid that the Healer might choose to cripple him right then and there. "If you were wondering, no, I don't have a problem with it." At that, Simon's shoulders slumped in relief – he hadn't even noticed how tense they'd been. "In fact, I'm all for it." Simon's heart skipped a beat and swelled; he hadn't realized before just how much he'd wanted the approval of at least one of Azraphael's Loves. "However, I should probably warn you…" This made Simon tense up again, and his heart clenched, ready to receive bad news. "Azraphael is the kind of person that takes many centuries to fully understand – and that's only if you're extremely close to them. If not, it'll take billions of years."
"That's it?" Simon laughed nervously, which earned him a look from the Healer that told him he had no idea what the Hell he was saying. "I honestly thought you were going to tell me I'd never be able to understand them, let alone have a chance at being with them." He considered this for a moment, letting his own words sink in. The last time he actually thought of having a real relationship with Azraphael was when he was a teenager, and he was under the impression that they were mostly normal, with the exception of being a Shifter. He searched for them for over a century after learning how to manipulate and travel through Time, and had given up when it all seemed hopeless. However, there was always a nagging voice deep in his heart that told him to keep holding on, to keep waiting for the day that he'd see the Angel again. When he'd met his counterpart, he jumped on the opportunity to let go of Azraphael completely, but his heart had inevitably remained true to his first Love.
"Oh, you definitely have a chance," Sahl'resh replied, his focus returning to Simon's leg. Simon was abruptly pulled away from his contemplations, but the impressions lingered. "But you're not going to get there overnight. It might seem simple now, to get close to them, and express your affections…but it won't always be this way. You're going to face challenges with that, and starting rather soon, might I add." He stopped himself there, mumbling that he'd said too much, and refused to speak on the issue again, much to Simon's dismay. In vain, he attempted to get the Healer to say something – anything – more about it. He was desperate to know what may await him in a future he'd not yet explored, but the other man remained silent.
When Sahl'resh had determined that Simon's leg was fully healed, he helped the scientist to his feet. Holding on to his arm for support, Simon followed his lead slowly around the ring of the previous night's fire, getting used to walking again. The two worked their way up and down the beach, and only stopped when the pulverized vertebrae in Simon's lower back began to scream at him. He'd asked Sahl'resh if there was truly nothing that could be done about it, and the other replied in the negative. Should he attempt to rectify it by means of an implant, or any other cybernetic enhancements, he had a 98% chance of paralyzing himself from the waist down. Although this was disheartening, he resolved to stick to the original course of action: walking with a cane for the rest of his life. It stung his pride a great deal, but he was sure he could still make the best of the situation.
"Hold still," Sahl'resh commanded, keeping one hand on Simon's shoulder, and pressing his other palm into his back. In an instant, the pain that threatened to overtake him was gone. He glanced around at the Healer in astonishment. "I've blocked the nerves; it'll last for maybe a day, so long as you don't overexert yourself. However, we need to keep you up and moving about!" He took Simon by the elbows and pulled him back up to his feet again. His legs wobbled, already exhausted by the exercise. Sahl'resh extended an arm, and Simon watched in amazement as the cane from Azraphael – which was lying on the sand about twenty feet away – flew right into his hand. "Here," he said, handing over the stick. "You should start getting used to this."
"Thank you, Sahl'resh…for everything." He was incredulous, hardly able to process what he'd just seen, but was still able to express his sincerest gratitude.
"Again, I say, no need to thank me. It's my job. And for that matter, I Love my job." He gave the scientist a firm clap on the shoulder, and a bright smile. "What do you say we get you to that spring? I'm sure you'll feel even better after a dip."
"Yes, that does sound nice," he paused, cut off by the sudden opening of one of Azraphael's portals. The person emerging from it, however, was utterly foreign to him.
"Ah!" Sahl'resh cried, his smile growing brighter. "My Darling Amon, the gentle giant of Cairo!" He paused only to make sure Simon was able to support himself with the cane, and when satisfied, rushed into the arms of the tall, swarthy, handsome being. He wasted no time in sweeping the other into a loving embrace, and laying on kiss after passionate kiss to their full, dark lips. "Oh, what's this?" Sahl'resh mused, and popped open one of the buttons on their flowing white garment. They lifted an eyebrow at him in amusement, and shook their head with a chuckle. "You had three open buttons."
"Are you sure?" When they spoke, their voice was deep and rich, and held a heavy Arabic accent. "Or do you just want to get me out of this robe again?"
"Why not both?" Sahl'resh ran a teasing hand down the other's chest. He sighed dreamily, stopping at their navel. "I take it you're off for that, then. Too bad…I'll just have to get you alone another time."
"Yes, I am. Will you be able to look after Simon and the others for me while I'm gone? I shouldn't be more than a day." They paused, giving Sahl'resh a seductive grin, their honey-colored eyes glazing over. "And you shouldn't be teasing me just now, habibi. Not when I have to hold myself back from you for a while longer." Realizing he'd just witnessed a rather intimate exchange between Sahl'resh and Azraphael, Simon flushed and turned his gaze away. This was partly out of wanting to give them space, but he'd be lying through his teeth if he tried to say he wasn't envious of the Healer.
"Maybe I just want you to squirm a little before then." He laughed in spite of himself. "Of course, I can keep an eye on everyone. Now, go on! Go be strong and handsome, sweep me off my feet, and steal away with me into the night!"
"Don't worry, I plan on it." Azraphael chuckled again, and walked over to Simon. He gazed up at them, finding himself once again in transfixed by their beauty; he was sure that they took on forms based upon what people liked, but from what he'd seen so far, he loved them all. They opened their mouth to speak, but nothing came out. After looking him up and down, they resigned to pulling him into a gentle embrace. "I'll be back tomorrow." When they finally found their voice, it was small, if not timid. He couldn't be sure, but he sensed a bit of guilt resonating from them. "Be safe, my dear." With that, they left him with a gentle kiss on his cheek, and made their way through another portal to who-knows-where. Simon watched them go, a growing feeling of unease settling in his chest. His mind went back to the snippet of conversation he'd overheard between the Angel and Aku Aku.
"I wonder what that was about…?" He muttered this under his breath, mostly to himself, but wasn't surprised when Sahl'resh answered.
"They're hopping around Timelines right now, and they just so happen to be the Angel that assisted me in my Deciding Life." The Healer gave him an apologetic smile, a deep crimson touching his pale cheeks. "Sorry you had to see that. 'Amon' has always been one of my favorites of the forms they take."
"I-it's quite alright," Simon cleared his throat, flushing a little. He'd nearly forgotten his brief surge of envy while thinking over Azraphael's recent change in demeanor. He had to remind himself that the Angel was open and honest about their relationships, and that he wasn't even one of them, yet. "I err, I was just thinking about what's been going on with them. They've been acting differently since last night, and I don't know what's wrong."
Sahl'resh's grin faded, then, and his expression turned solemn. "Simon," he said, locking eyes with the scientist. "Angels like Azraphael – those who have the stomach to take on Soul-saving missions – are privy to vast amounts of information that will help them complete said missions, but they are not at liberty to share such knowledge freely. I don't know what could be bothering them, but whatever it is, it's likely something that will hurt you." Simon attempted to respond to this, but Sahl'resh held up a hand, silencing him. "I'm sorry – I can't speak on it further. I don't know what they know."
"Well, that's comforting," Simon nearly snapped, his brow knitting together in a combination of worry and irritation. He tested his ability to walk with the cane, finding it to be awkward, if not uncomfortable. With no small amount of reluctance, he allowed Sahl'resh to guide him down the path into the jungle. They passed by the N-Team, Ellie, and the bandicoots on their way to the spring; everyone looked lively and refreshed, especially his old friends. They were actually cracking jokes, and carrying on friendly conversations with their former enemies. He gave them all an uneasy smile, and exchanged a few pleasantries before going along his way. It was only Aku Aku who appeared to have any idea that something was amiss. He stared Simon down with an unreadable expression, and said nothing before floating off with the rest of the group. With a heavier and heavier sensation settling in his chest, he moved on towards the spring.
The crystal pool wasn't far, and was well-concealed by ferns off the beaten path. Sahl'resh left him with a simple change of clothes, and a promise that he wouldn't be far off, should his assistance be required. Simon decided to take his time, beginning to test his limits with being able to sit and stand on his own. He sat at the edge of the spring, sliding his aching legs into the water. It was delightfully crisp, despite the quickly rising heat and humidity. As he relaxed, he began removing the rest of his bandages, relieved to have the rest of his torso exposed to the open air. The makeshift splint strapped to his thigh came off as well, giving him an odd sensation of freedom. Satisfied with his progress thus far, he struggled back to his feet, intent on undressing and cleaning himself up.
"Nefarious…" A shrill whisper echoed around the clearing – or perhaps it was only in his mind – and Simon stopped cold. His blood turned to ice; his heart stopped for a few agonizing seconds, then began racing uncontrollably. "Nefarious…!" The voice was louder this time, yet somehow sounded both nearer and further away. Something knocked into his ankle, and he jumped along with his heart. Looking down, it took all of his willpower to keep himself from falling into a dead faint. Instead, he fell to his knees and became violently sick in the lush grass. Lady N. Tropy's helmet, with the tiny tuning fork crest caked in dried blood, had been deposited at his side. He clutched at his hair, nearly strong enough to rip some of it out, and was assaulted with vision after terrible vision of those final moments of his deathmatch with her. All of the turbulent emotions he'd worked so hard to squash came rushing back in one unstoppable wave.
He was beside himself in the agonizing throes of grief, remorse, and self-loathing for what he'd had to do. Hot tears streaked down his face one after the other, and showed no signs of stopping. In vain, he tried to fight back the voice that was now shrieking his old name from all sides, and the endlessly repeating memory of slamming his counterpart's head into the ground. He dragged himself over to the spring; splashing the cool water on his face wasn't enough to help, so he turned to slapping himself over and over again, until he could feel new bruises beginning to form. Then, he stopped abruptly, looking down into the pool in a mixed state of wonder, and horror. There was his counterpart, eyes closed, hair floating serenely in the ripples of the water. She appeared not to have changed at all, and looked as though she were only sleeping.
"Nefaria?!" Simon gasped, clutching at his heart. He nearly reached into the water to see if he could touch her, if she were truly there, but stopped himself when she opened her eyes. They were vacant black pits, radiating an aura of the purest, most vile hatred any one person was capable of. Her face became gaunt and pale, a mocking shadow if its former, healthy and vibrant shape. In a flash, her arm shot out of the water, and her hand squeezed itself around his neck, cutting off his breath in a single, murderous attack. With one swift pull, she dragged Simon down into the water, and before long, he lost consciousness.