Word of the day: abide

Inspired by the James Webb telescope images of the Pillars of Creation.

...

Stiles looked at Derek from the corner of his almost-closed eye, hoping for subtlety as he took in the warrior angel from space. This was the first meeting Derek had attended in a very long time, and Stiles was curious to know whether fighting evil in the depths of space would change an angel. Despite the small opening, golden sunbeams lit Derek instantly, and Stiles hurried to close his eyes again.

Hearing Raguel approach, Stiles kept his eyes closed and tried to look calmer than he felt. "Thou hast forgotten thy eye covering, brother. Again," Raguel reproached.

"It itches," Stiles replied, speaking only the truth.

"T'was a gift from God personally."

A gift I can't abide, and God isn't the one that has to wear it, Stiles thought, guilt sharper than a sword.

Raguel paused and Stiles realised he was waiting for a response. "I will retrieve my eye covering, brother."

"Good," Raguel said, returning his attention to Michael's speech and dismissing Stiles.

Stiles flew out of the meeting without hesitation and with no intention of returning. Raguel might notice, but he wouldn't actually care. Stiles' status was considered lesser by other angels, and his presence wasn't required. He was a guardian, assigned to a gate that hadn't even been included in the humans' bible or its variations; even Raguel got a mention in the Enoch spin-off.

Most angels considered gate guarding to be beneath them but God had created the humans and put angels like Stiles in charge of those very creations. That had to mean something, surely? Either way, Stiles' existence was one of forced solitude, and he often felt like he watched both humans and angels from the wrong side of his gate.

Stopping atop his cloud, Stiles opened his eyes.

The humans below saw rays of sunshine beaming out of the dark clouds briefly, reminding them that the storm would be over soon.

His eye covering was from the first fabric created by humans. It was crudely made from animal hide and flax fibres, and as uncomfortable as it sounded. Technically, Stiles hadn't told Raguel he would wear it, but he already felt guilty enough; not every angel was honoured with a personalised gift from God. Stiles grabbed the cloth and headed to his gate for another day of solitude and watching humans live their glorious lives. They were sometimes tempted and coerced by his fallen siblings, and while he was stuck behind his gate, Stiles still tried to help the humans.

...

As a warrior angel, created to protect humans and the universe itself from evil, Derek spent his time out among the stars protecting the furthest reaches of space from evils that no human would ever see nor comprehend. The fact that he had to come back to Heaven for meetings such as the one this morning was an annoyance he didn't dare voice, especially in the presence of the Seraphim.

The only interesting part had been a gate guardian, but Raguel had spoken to him and Stiles had left far too soon for Derek's liking. He'd spent the rest of the meeting thinking about him rather than listening to Michael's, Gabriel's, or Metatron's tirades. Now that the meeting was over, Derek should be returning to his duties, but he was instead flying to the gates. He hadn't been to them in aeons, and it took a long moment to even remember where the thirteenth gate was.

He only slowed his flight after he had passed the twelfth gate, certain (hoping) he would not be questioned, as he could not conceive a reason nor excuse for his presence. The thirteenth gate was further than he expected, hidden behind a dense cloud and unseen by the other twelve. It could be considered a punishment or blessing in disguise, depending on the angel, he mused, stopping when he heard a noise.

" - he's not even good looking! Those cheekbones aren't worth your soul! C'mon, look outside, there's sunbeams shining right on your house, for God's sake! No! You fool, we both know he's going to break your heart before he takes your soul," Stiles said with a sigh, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"Pray tell, with whom dost thou converse?" Derek asked, curious and somewhat concerned.

"Jeremy; he's agreed to sell his soul because of a pretty face - wait. Why are you here? Did something happen? What's wrong?"

Derek tilted his head at the unfamiliar language and concern in Stiles' tone. Stiles looked at him, golden light flooding Derek until he felt it in his very essence.

"Oh, my bad! Here, let me... " Stiles closed his eyes and tied his cloth around his head, letting out a soft hiss of pain as it scraped against his sensitive skin. "Is everything okay?"

Still tingling in the aftermath of Stiles' golden gaze, Derek took a moment to compose himself. "My deepest apologies. Nothing ails Heaven nor its inhabitants."

"Oh, good. You scared the feathers off of me," Stiles said, letting out an exaggerated breath as angels didn't need to breathe, his wings trembling. "If nothing's wrong, why're you here?" he asked, frowning.

Derek still had no reason nor excuse prepared. "Thy manner of speech is unfamiliar."

"I... uh, well, I've been watching humans for so long that my language adapted. I can speak Armaic, if you'd prefer?"

"Nay. Please, continue."

Stiles fell silent for a moment. "I still don't know why you're here."

"I don't know, either," he admitted.

Stiles looked at Derek as though he could still see him through his eye covering. "Would you like to watch the humans together?" he offered with a star-bright smile, a constellation dotted along his jaw.

Derek remembered how awed he felt each time he saw nebulae and galaxies and planets that would never be known by others, how it felt to watch stars forming and exploding, and looking at Stiles now made him feel the exact same way. "Yes," he replied, breathless. "Will thou remove thy eye covering?"

Surprised at Derek's request, Stiles nodded and removed the cloth, his temples scraped in his initial hurry to put it on. Derek gave a soft hiss at the sight, covering Stiles' eyes with a broad palm and healing him. "Thank you, Derek. I did not expect such kindness."

"T'was naught but a small act," Derek said.

"Big or small, I still thank you. Will you tell me about the universe and your fights against evil?"

"'Tis an existence of solitude, and my tales are likely to bore," Derek warned.

Stiles grinned. "If you're telling them, I doubt it."

The storm clouds started to disperse, sunbeams shining brightly on the world below.

...

The end.

Thanks for reading; I hope you liked it!