Chapter Nine:
^ ^ ^ ^
Bartleby held Grace in his arms as she giggled and cooed. Sitting in the kitchen, among Kirsten and Bethany, the two exchanged smiles and laughs as they waited patiently for dinner to be served.
Kirsten sat at the table across from Bartleby and Grace, and took delightful notice of how Bethany would watch the two of them out of the corner of her eye as she continued to cut up fresh vegetables for the stew that was simmering on the stove. Kirsten couldn't help but see something in Bethany's eyes as she watched Bartleby and Grace play together – or more so, how Bethany watched *Bartleby*. She lost count of the timid smiles that played on Bethany's lips every time she looked at him. Bartleby, on the other hand, was oblivious, as usual, and Kirsten was itching to change that.
But, all cupid's-arrow thoughts were clipped from Kirsten's mind when they all were startled by the crashing sound of the front door slamming shut.
"Guess Loki's home." Kirsten stood from her chair, ready to give Loki a big, 'welcome home' hug when he entered the kitchen, but one look at him changed her mind completely. He didn't even *look* at her. His eyes, his *angry* eyes were fixated on Bartleby.
"I need to talk to you," Loki glanced up at Kirsten and Bethany and then returned his gaze to Bartleby. "Privately," he spoke through clenched teeth.
Bartleby was too preoccupied with Grace to be concerned or to even *notice* how distressed Loki seemed. "Yeah, sure. Just gimme a min—"
"Now," Loki interrupted lividly.
Bartleby finally looked up at Loki, startled. Loki left the kitchen and headed for his bedroom. Bartleby handed Kirsten the baby and after a look of confusion and a shrug, he followed his friend.
Kirsten looked over at Bethany who had stopped cutting the vegetables long enough to take in the sight of the unexpected confrontation. "What's going on?"
Bethany shook her head. "Haven't a clue."
^ ^ ^ ^
Loki took off his hooded trench coat and threw it onto the bed as Bartleby entered the room, closing the door behind him. Bartleby watched Loki pace back and forth in front of him and run his fingers through his hair.
"Have a bad day at work?" Bartleby was about to smile until Loki glared at him with such angry eyes, it made him frown instead. "What's wrong, Loki?"
Loki stopped pacing, shook his head and laughed without any evident humor. "What's wrong? You want to know what's wrong?" He looked at Bartleby again. "As if you didn't already know."
Bartleby waited for Loki to finish, but no explanation came. "Know what?"
"B, how can I trust you if you keep things from me?"
"What?"
"Don't play dumb with me. This is serious, damn it!"
"Loki, I don't know what you're talking ab—"
"Lucifer," Loki watched as that one word turned Bartleby's confused expression into a guilty one. "I saw Lucifer today, Bartleby."
Unable to look at Loki, Bartleby was silent.
"Fuck, B. Why? Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to worry you. I didn't think it was important—"
"You didn't think it was important? Lucifer is walking around on earth, posing as a human, obviously up to something, and you don't think that's important?" Loki gaped at his friend in utter astonishment. "We already know she's after Grace."
"She's not after Grace."
"Pardon?"
"Lucifer told me she's not after Grace."
"And you believe her? B, what the hell is wrong with you?" Loki grabbed the front of Bartleby's shirt. "For fuck's sake, man, snap out of it!" He shoved Bartleby, pushing him back once, twice . . .
"Let go of me!" Bartleby shouted and tore himself away from Loki's grip. He stumbled backward and winced as his back hit the wall, hard.
Seeing the pain on Bartleby's face erased any anger Loki felt at that moment. He was shocked at what he'd just done. Loki took a timorous step towards Bartleby and felt his heart sink into his stomach as he watched his friend flinch at his approach, cowering awkwardly and quickly folding his arms across his chest to shield his tender ribs. Loki's heart flooded with regret. "I'm so sorry, B." His voice trembled with emotion. "I – I didn't mean to . . ." Loki lost his ability to speak, and shuddered. What was he doing? He was angry at Bartleby, but he would never *ever* be angry enough to *hurt* him. He would *never* hurt him. Loki took slow, deep breaths and sat down on the edge of the bed, putting his head in his hands.
A few minutes passed and then Loki felt the mattress sink lower as someone sat down beside him, and at once he felt the warmth of strong, protective arms slide around his shoulders, holding him close.
"I'm sorry for not telling you about Lucifer," he heard Bartleby whisper.
"I know you are," Loki replied, just as softly. "And I'm sorry for not being very good at controlling my temper. You know I'd never hurt—"
"I know, Loki." Bartleby squeezed tighter and Loki hugged him back. "I know."
Loki swallowed the lump in his throat and felt the warm sting of tears forming in his eyes. He realized that it wasn't Bartleby he was angry with; he was angry with himself – angry and scared. Lucifer was on the prowl, and Bartleby was right: Lucifer wasn't after Grace. Loki *knew* who she was after. She was after Bartleby. And that made Loki angrier and more scared than he'd ever been before. He was angry because he wasn't strong enough to take on the awesome power of the Devil. And he was scared because that power was threatening to take someone away from him; the one person who Loki loved more than anyone or anything else in the entire universe; the one person who knew Loki better than Loki knew himself; the one person who would forever forgive Loki for anything he did because that's just the way it had always been; the one person who he couldn't live without. . .
"Bartleby?"
"Hmm?"
"What did Lucifer say to you?" Loki felt Bartleby stiffen at the inquiry.
"I'm not going with her, Loki."
Loki noticed that Bartleby conveniently did not answer the question. So, he struck harder with his next query. "Did she tell you that she still loves you?"
Silence, only this time Bartleby dropped his arms and stood from the bed.
Loki blinked back his tears and rose from the bed as well. He gently turned Bartleby to face him directly. "She did, didn't she?"
"It doesn't matter what Lucifer said. I'm not going back with her." Loki felt Bartleby tremble in his grip. "I'm not," he repeated, shaking his head.
"Damn right, you're not." Loki could feel the shivers of fear coursing through his friend's body. "B, don't let her do this to you. Don't let her get to you. Whatever she told you were lies. Believing Lucifer is just letting her gain the advantage. You need to be strong; *we* need to be strong. Do you hear me?"
Bartleby nodded his head ever so slightly, but his eyes did not meet Loki's.
"Look at me, B." Bartleby did as he was told. "Lucifer doesn't make the rules. But she also doesn't play fair. She's up to something. I can feel it in my bones. From now on, we all have to be extra careful."
"But why?" Bartleby finally spoke. "We've been on earth for over a millennia and Lucifer never gave us a problem before. Why should we be so worried about what she's doing now?"
"Because *before* we were angels. She couldn't touch us then. We were beyond her reach. We're human now, B, which means we're fair game; *you're* fair game."
Bartleby took a step away from Loki and shook his head again. "Then I should go. I'm endangering you and everyone in this house if I stay."
"It wouldn't matter if you left or not. We're all in this together. No matter what, Lucifer would somehow use us to get to you. You know that as much as I do, so don't even think about leaving. You got that?"
Silence.
"I said, you got that?" Loki repeated heatedly.
"I got it," Bartleby mumbled.
Loki took a long look at Bartleby's troubled expression. He knew his friend was fighting with the guilt of putting others in danger, but there was no other way. Loki was *not* letting Bartleby leave, and he definitely wasn't going to give him up to Lucifer. The only thing that gave Loki hope was that God was on their side. Loki and Bartleby were on earth as humans for a reason, and that reason was *not* to be taken by Lucifer. Loki was sure of that. But Bartleby didn't seem to be so sure.
"Maybe . . . maybe I'm supposed to be with Luc—"
"No!" Loki shouted without appeal.
"Think about it, Loki. Even *you* said that I reminded you of her. Maybe I *am* on the same path she has already taken. Maybe I *am* supposed to be with—"
"What are you talking about? You never *ever* reminded me of Lucifer. When would I have ever said--" Loki stopped, thinking back to the night he and Bartleby were thrown from the train on their way to New Jersey; on their way to the Catholic Church. He remembered the argument he had with Bartleby in the underground parking lot. He remembered saying: "You sound like Lucifer, man! You fucking lost it!" Loki looked at Bartleby who saw the revelation in his friend's eyes. "Oh, B. I didn't say you reminded me of Lucifer. I said you *sounded* like her. I was just trying to talk some sense into you. You were on a tear, man. You were scaring me, so I thought if you could only gage how you were acting, you would stop. But I think when I mentioned Lucifer by name; it just pissed you off even more. Please don't *ever* think that you remind me of her. God, that couldn't be further from the truth. The only thing you two have in common is—"Loki stopped short again.
"Is what?" Bartleby asked.
Loki didn't reply.
"Is what?" Bartleby said again.
"Free will."
"What?" Bartleby was genuinely confused.
"As angels, you both had it. You both had - and still have - free will."
Bartleby blinked a few times, gaping at Loki. "You don't know what you're talking about," he finally spoke in a low growl.
"Don't I? B, that's what set you and Lucifer apart from the rest of the heavenly angels. It's the way you both were made."
Bartleby turned his back to Loki, unwilling to face him . . . or *unable* to.
"You think the rest of us didn't know? How could we not know, Bartleby? It took free will to rage a war against God; to take on The Throne. Lucifer would never have even *thought* to do such a thing without the use of free will. And *you* asked me to lay down the sword. You asked me not to do *God's* will and punish the humans who were deserving of His wrath. It was *your* will not to kill them; your *free* will, Bartleby. I never would have considered to lay down my sword until you put the thought in my head. I didn't have the option of wondering if my job was right or wrong. I didn't have anything but God's will to perform. But you . . . you and Lucifer didn't have to conform to God's will. He gave you your own." Loki wished he could see Bartleby's face. He started to circle his friend, slowly trying to face him as he continued to speak. "When we were cast out of Heaven, it was you who did everything in your power to get us back in. No matter what the cost, you willed the chance to get back into Heaven by way of a loophole—"
"You're the one who wanted to kill all those executives from the Mooby Corporation!" Bartleby startled Loki when he whirled to face him, his eyes shaky with confusion and anger and a bit of what Loki thought might be self- loathing. "That wasn't my idea! You had free will too, Loki!"
Loki shook his head. "That was my former *job*, B. I wasn't acting on my own free will. I was only trying to do the job I was created to do. It was the only thing I ever knew how to do. Wanting to kill those people wasn't an act of free will; it was just me doing my job as The Angel of Death."
Bartleby shook with emotion. Loki wasn't sure if his friend was angry or scared shitless. Maybe it was a bit of both.
"You and Lucifer were different in the sense that you were both given a gift that only humans received. The two of you were the only angels in existence with the gift of free will, of free thinking, not bound by the will of God." Loki spoke softly and evenly. He wasn't trying to upset Bartleby. He was merely trying to explain to him.
Seemingly defeated in his argument, Bartleby tried to relax and let out a hearty sigh. "And look what fucking free will got us: Lucifer was sentenced to Hell and we got a one way ticket to Wisconsin; no longer welcome in our own home - the only home we've ever known. Why would She do that? Why would God give an angel free will if She knew what trouble it would cause?" Bartleby's question just seemed to breed more resentment. "It wasn't a gift. It was a goddamn curse."
Loki realized the turmoil that was raging through Bartleby's mind, but he didn't know how to comfort his companion. So he said the only thing he knew to say: "God has a plan, B."
"Yeah, I know. She always has a plan." Bartleby retorted with unbridled mockery.
"Hey, now. I know things may seem pretty screwy at this point, but you have to have faith, Bartleby. And remember, I'm just getting used to this whole 'free will' thing myself. It's hard to know what's the right thing to do or even *what* to do in any given situation, and only be able to hope that it's what God would want me to do. I want my will to *be* God's will, ya know? It's hard, but I'm trying . . . and I have faith."
Eyes full of wonder and surprise, Bartleby smiled at Loki. "Gee, Loki, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were getting a bit wise in your old age."
"Watch your mouth!" Loki scolded in a teasing manner. "I may be older than you, but not by much."
"Oh, please!" Bartleby laughed. "In human years, you're old enough to be my grandfather!"
"Maybe so, kid, but you obviously didn't ever learn to respect your elders." Loki playfully smacked the back of Bartleby's head and smiled. He missed this kind of loving banter he'd often shared with Bartleby in the past. Things had gotten so out of hand, the last few years, that times like these seemed few and far between. And this type of play only helped to strengthen Loki's bond with Bartleby. They needed each other more than they both realized.
They both just stood there looking at each other, caught up in the moment that let them forget – if only for one second – about the impending danger that threatened to tear them apart.
"God does have a plan, B." Loki reinforced his proclamation, bringing back the seriousness of their situation. "And for reasons unknown to us, we're here on earth as mortals; thrust into a world we don't quite understand. It's almost as if we've been reborn; offered a second chance; given a clean slate; a fresh start—"
"We can't return to innocence if we were never innocent to begin with." Bartleby's demeanor changed drastically with that statement. Inside, he was still wrestling with the unsettling feelings of confusion and hurt, and although he didn't let on how much he was hurting, Loki knew *why* his friend was feeling this way.
"Listen to me, Bartleby. We've all done some stupid things in the past. The important thing is that we must realize what we did was wrong and make amends. You can't change what happened that day at the church." Loki felt a pang of sorrow creep into his gut as his words seemed to cut into Bartleby like a jagged blade. "What's done is done. But in the end, you told God you were sorry; you knew what you did was wrong and you apologized. You're right: None of us are innocent of anything anymore, but we *can* be forgiven . . . and you were forgiven, B. You were forgiven by Her . . . and by me."
Loki saw the unshed tears glimmering in Bartleby's haunted eyes. He wanted so much to just hold Bartleby and rid his troubled friend of all the pain and torment he was keeping bottled up inside. But now, it looked as if one touch would surely crack Bartleby's self control and no doubt cause him to shatter into a billion pieces.
"And if Lucifer told you any different, she's lying," Loki assured, finally figuring it all out. *That* was the emptiness he saw in Bartleby. The spark of hope that Bartleby had desperately clung to; the hope that he was forgiven, had been extinguished by Lucifer. And the thought of her, now, made Loki seethe with scalding rage.
"But if I was forgiven – if *we* were forgiven, then why were we sent here instead of being allowed back into Heaven?" Bartleby sounded like a lost child pleading for someone to help him find his way home.
A laden sigh escaped Loki's lips and he shook his head. "I don't have the answer to that question, B." Loki leaned close to Bartleby and putting his hand on the back of Bartleby's neck, he pulled his friend towards him, gently pressing their foreheads together. "All I know is that I'm still with you . . . and that's 'heaven' enough for me."
^ ^ ^ ^
^ ^ ^ ^
Bartleby held Grace in his arms as she giggled and cooed. Sitting in the kitchen, among Kirsten and Bethany, the two exchanged smiles and laughs as they waited patiently for dinner to be served.
Kirsten sat at the table across from Bartleby and Grace, and took delightful notice of how Bethany would watch the two of them out of the corner of her eye as she continued to cut up fresh vegetables for the stew that was simmering on the stove. Kirsten couldn't help but see something in Bethany's eyes as she watched Bartleby and Grace play together – or more so, how Bethany watched *Bartleby*. She lost count of the timid smiles that played on Bethany's lips every time she looked at him. Bartleby, on the other hand, was oblivious, as usual, and Kirsten was itching to change that.
But, all cupid's-arrow thoughts were clipped from Kirsten's mind when they all were startled by the crashing sound of the front door slamming shut.
"Guess Loki's home." Kirsten stood from her chair, ready to give Loki a big, 'welcome home' hug when he entered the kitchen, but one look at him changed her mind completely. He didn't even *look* at her. His eyes, his *angry* eyes were fixated on Bartleby.
"I need to talk to you," Loki glanced up at Kirsten and Bethany and then returned his gaze to Bartleby. "Privately," he spoke through clenched teeth.
Bartleby was too preoccupied with Grace to be concerned or to even *notice* how distressed Loki seemed. "Yeah, sure. Just gimme a min—"
"Now," Loki interrupted lividly.
Bartleby finally looked up at Loki, startled. Loki left the kitchen and headed for his bedroom. Bartleby handed Kirsten the baby and after a look of confusion and a shrug, he followed his friend.
Kirsten looked over at Bethany who had stopped cutting the vegetables long enough to take in the sight of the unexpected confrontation. "What's going on?"
Bethany shook her head. "Haven't a clue."
^ ^ ^ ^
Loki took off his hooded trench coat and threw it onto the bed as Bartleby entered the room, closing the door behind him. Bartleby watched Loki pace back and forth in front of him and run his fingers through his hair.
"Have a bad day at work?" Bartleby was about to smile until Loki glared at him with such angry eyes, it made him frown instead. "What's wrong, Loki?"
Loki stopped pacing, shook his head and laughed without any evident humor. "What's wrong? You want to know what's wrong?" He looked at Bartleby again. "As if you didn't already know."
Bartleby waited for Loki to finish, but no explanation came. "Know what?"
"B, how can I trust you if you keep things from me?"
"What?"
"Don't play dumb with me. This is serious, damn it!"
"Loki, I don't know what you're talking ab—"
"Lucifer," Loki watched as that one word turned Bartleby's confused expression into a guilty one. "I saw Lucifer today, Bartleby."
Unable to look at Loki, Bartleby was silent.
"Fuck, B. Why? Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to worry you. I didn't think it was important—"
"You didn't think it was important? Lucifer is walking around on earth, posing as a human, obviously up to something, and you don't think that's important?" Loki gaped at his friend in utter astonishment. "We already know she's after Grace."
"She's not after Grace."
"Pardon?"
"Lucifer told me she's not after Grace."
"And you believe her? B, what the hell is wrong with you?" Loki grabbed the front of Bartleby's shirt. "For fuck's sake, man, snap out of it!" He shoved Bartleby, pushing him back once, twice . . .
"Let go of me!" Bartleby shouted and tore himself away from Loki's grip. He stumbled backward and winced as his back hit the wall, hard.
Seeing the pain on Bartleby's face erased any anger Loki felt at that moment. He was shocked at what he'd just done. Loki took a timorous step towards Bartleby and felt his heart sink into his stomach as he watched his friend flinch at his approach, cowering awkwardly and quickly folding his arms across his chest to shield his tender ribs. Loki's heart flooded with regret. "I'm so sorry, B." His voice trembled with emotion. "I – I didn't mean to . . ." Loki lost his ability to speak, and shuddered. What was he doing? He was angry at Bartleby, but he would never *ever* be angry enough to *hurt* him. He would *never* hurt him. Loki took slow, deep breaths and sat down on the edge of the bed, putting his head in his hands.
A few minutes passed and then Loki felt the mattress sink lower as someone sat down beside him, and at once he felt the warmth of strong, protective arms slide around his shoulders, holding him close.
"I'm sorry for not telling you about Lucifer," he heard Bartleby whisper.
"I know you are," Loki replied, just as softly. "And I'm sorry for not being very good at controlling my temper. You know I'd never hurt—"
"I know, Loki." Bartleby squeezed tighter and Loki hugged him back. "I know."
Loki swallowed the lump in his throat and felt the warm sting of tears forming in his eyes. He realized that it wasn't Bartleby he was angry with; he was angry with himself – angry and scared. Lucifer was on the prowl, and Bartleby was right: Lucifer wasn't after Grace. Loki *knew* who she was after. She was after Bartleby. And that made Loki angrier and more scared than he'd ever been before. He was angry because he wasn't strong enough to take on the awesome power of the Devil. And he was scared because that power was threatening to take someone away from him; the one person who Loki loved more than anyone or anything else in the entire universe; the one person who knew Loki better than Loki knew himself; the one person who would forever forgive Loki for anything he did because that's just the way it had always been; the one person who he couldn't live without. . .
"Bartleby?"
"Hmm?"
"What did Lucifer say to you?" Loki felt Bartleby stiffen at the inquiry.
"I'm not going with her, Loki."
Loki noticed that Bartleby conveniently did not answer the question. So, he struck harder with his next query. "Did she tell you that she still loves you?"
Silence, only this time Bartleby dropped his arms and stood from the bed.
Loki blinked back his tears and rose from the bed as well. He gently turned Bartleby to face him directly. "She did, didn't she?"
"It doesn't matter what Lucifer said. I'm not going back with her." Loki felt Bartleby tremble in his grip. "I'm not," he repeated, shaking his head.
"Damn right, you're not." Loki could feel the shivers of fear coursing through his friend's body. "B, don't let her do this to you. Don't let her get to you. Whatever she told you were lies. Believing Lucifer is just letting her gain the advantage. You need to be strong; *we* need to be strong. Do you hear me?"
Bartleby nodded his head ever so slightly, but his eyes did not meet Loki's.
"Look at me, B." Bartleby did as he was told. "Lucifer doesn't make the rules. But she also doesn't play fair. She's up to something. I can feel it in my bones. From now on, we all have to be extra careful."
"But why?" Bartleby finally spoke. "We've been on earth for over a millennia and Lucifer never gave us a problem before. Why should we be so worried about what she's doing now?"
"Because *before* we were angels. She couldn't touch us then. We were beyond her reach. We're human now, B, which means we're fair game; *you're* fair game."
Bartleby took a step away from Loki and shook his head again. "Then I should go. I'm endangering you and everyone in this house if I stay."
"It wouldn't matter if you left or not. We're all in this together. No matter what, Lucifer would somehow use us to get to you. You know that as much as I do, so don't even think about leaving. You got that?"
Silence.
"I said, you got that?" Loki repeated heatedly.
"I got it," Bartleby mumbled.
Loki took a long look at Bartleby's troubled expression. He knew his friend was fighting with the guilt of putting others in danger, but there was no other way. Loki was *not* letting Bartleby leave, and he definitely wasn't going to give him up to Lucifer. The only thing that gave Loki hope was that God was on their side. Loki and Bartleby were on earth as humans for a reason, and that reason was *not* to be taken by Lucifer. Loki was sure of that. But Bartleby didn't seem to be so sure.
"Maybe . . . maybe I'm supposed to be with Luc—"
"No!" Loki shouted without appeal.
"Think about it, Loki. Even *you* said that I reminded you of her. Maybe I *am* on the same path she has already taken. Maybe I *am* supposed to be with—"
"What are you talking about? You never *ever* reminded me of Lucifer. When would I have ever said--" Loki stopped, thinking back to the night he and Bartleby were thrown from the train on their way to New Jersey; on their way to the Catholic Church. He remembered the argument he had with Bartleby in the underground parking lot. He remembered saying: "You sound like Lucifer, man! You fucking lost it!" Loki looked at Bartleby who saw the revelation in his friend's eyes. "Oh, B. I didn't say you reminded me of Lucifer. I said you *sounded* like her. I was just trying to talk some sense into you. You were on a tear, man. You were scaring me, so I thought if you could only gage how you were acting, you would stop. But I think when I mentioned Lucifer by name; it just pissed you off even more. Please don't *ever* think that you remind me of her. God, that couldn't be further from the truth. The only thing you two have in common is—"Loki stopped short again.
"Is what?" Bartleby asked.
Loki didn't reply.
"Is what?" Bartleby said again.
"Free will."
"What?" Bartleby was genuinely confused.
"As angels, you both had it. You both had - and still have - free will."
Bartleby blinked a few times, gaping at Loki. "You don't know what you're talking about," he finally spoke in a low growl.
"Don't I? B, that's what set you and Lucifer apart from the rest of the heavenly angels. It's the way you both were made."
Bartleby turned his back to Loki, unwilling to face him . . . or *unable* to.
"You think the rest of us didn't know? How could we not know, Bartleby? It took free will to rage a war against God; to take on The Throne. Lucifer would never have even *thought* to do such a thing without the use of free will. And *you* asked me to lay down the sword. You asked me not to do *God's* will and punish the humans who were deserving of His wrath. It was *your* will not to kill them; your *free* will, Bartleby. I never would have considered to lay down my sword until you put the thought in my head. I didn't have the option of wondering if my job was right or wrong. I didn't have anything but God's will to perform. But you . . . you and Lucifer didn't have to conform to God's will. He gave you your own." Loki wished he could see Bartleby's face. He started to circle his friend, slowly trying to face him as he continued to speak. "When we were cast out of Heaven, it was you who did everything in your power to get us back in. No matter what the cost, you willed the chance to get back into Heaven by way of a loophole—"
"You're the one who wanted to kill all those executives from the Mooby Corporation!" Bartleby startled Loki when he whirled to face him, his eyes shaky with confusion and anger and a bit of what Loki thought might be self- loathing. "That wasn't my idea! You had free will too, Loki!"
Loki shook his head. "That was my former *job*, B. I wasn't acting on my own free will. I was only trying to do the job I was created to do. It was the only thing I ever knew how to do. Wanting to kill those people wasn't an act of free will; it was just me doing my job as The Angel of Death."
Bartleby shook with emotion. Loki wasn't sure if his friend was angry or scared shitless. Maybe it was a bit of both.
"You and Lucifer were different in the sense that you were both given a gift that only humans received. The two of you were the only angels in existence with the gift of free will, of free thinking, not bound by the will of God." Loki spoke softly and evenly. He wasn't trying to upset Bartleby. He was merely trying to explain to him.
Seemingly defeated in his argument, Bartleby tried to relax and let out a hearty sigh. "And look what fucking free will got us: Lucifer was sentenced to Hell and we got a one way ticket to Wisconsin; no longer welcome in our own home - the only home we've ever known. Why would She do that? Why would God give an angel free will if She knew what trouble it would cause?" Bartleby's question just seemed to breed more resentment. "It wasn't a gift. It was a goddamn curse."
Loki realized the turmoil that was raging through Bartleby's mind, but he didn't know how to comfort his companion. So he said the only thing he knew to say: "God has a plan, B."
"Yeah, I know. She always has a plan." Bartleby retorted with unbridled mockery.
"Hey, now. I know things may seem pretty screwy at this point, but you have to have faith, Bartleby. And remember, I'm just getting used to this whole 'free will' thing myself. It's hard to know what's the right thing to do or even *what* to do in any given situation, and only be able to hope that it's what God would want me to do. I want my will to *be* God's will, ya know? It's hard, but I'm trying . . . and I have faith."
Eyes full of wonder and surprise, Bartleby smiled at Loki. "Gee, Loki, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were getting a bit wise in your old age."
"Watch your mouth!" Loki scolded in a teasing manner. "I may be older than you, but not by much."
"Oh, please!" Bartleby laughed. "In human years, you're old enough to be my grandfather!"
"Maybe so, kid, but you obviously didn't ever learn to respect your elders." Loki playfully smacked the back of Bartleby's head and smiled. He missed this kind of loving banter he'd often shared with Bartleby in the past. Things had gotten so out of hand, the last few years, that times like these seemed few and far between. And this type of play only helped to strengthen Loki's bond with Bartleby. They needed each other more than they both realized.
They both just stood there looking at each other, caught up in the moment that let them forget – if only for one second – about the impending danger that threatened to tear them apart.
"God does have a plan, B." Loki reinforced his proclamation, bringing back the seriousness of their situation. "And for reasons unknown to us, we're here on earth as mortals; thrust into a world we don't quite understand. It's almost as if we've been reborn; offered a second chance; given a clean slate; a fresh start—"
"We can't return to innocence if we were never innocent to begin with." Bartleby's demeanor changed drastically with that statement. Inside, he was still wrestling with the unsettling feelings of confusion and hurt, and although he didn't let on how much he was hurting, Loki knew *why* his friend was feeling this way.
"Listen to me, Bartleby. We've all done some stupid things in the past. The important thing is that we must realize what we did was wrong and make amends. You can't change what happened that day at the church." Loki felt a pang of sorrow creep into his gut as his words seemed to cut into Bartleby like a jagged blade. "What's done is done. But in the end, you told God you were sorry; you knew what you did was wrong and you apologized. You're right: None of us are innocent of anything anymore, but we *can* be forgiven . . . and you were forgiven, B. You were forgiven by Her . . . and by me."
Loki saw the unshed tears glimmering in Bartleby's haunted eyes. He wanted so much to just hold Bartleby and rid his troubled friend of all the pain and torment he was keeping bottled up inside. But now, it looked as if one touch would surely crack Bartleby's self control and no doubt cause him to shatter into a billion pieces.
"And if Lucifer told you any different, she's lying," Loki assured, finally figuring it all out. *That* was the emptiness he saw in Bartleby. The spark of hope that Bartleby had desperately clung to; the hope that he was forgiven, had been extinguished by Lucifer. And the thought of her, now, made Loki seethe with scalding rage.
"But if I was forgiven – if *we* were forgiven, then why were we sent here instead of being allowed back into Heaven?" Bartleby sounded like a lost child pleading for someone to help him find his way home.
A laden sigh escaped Loki's lips and he shook his head. "I don't have the answer to that question, B." Loki leaned close to Bartleby and putting his hand on the back of Bartleby's neck, he pulled his friend towards him, gently pressing their foreheads together. "All I know is that I'm still with you . . . and that's 'heaven' enough for me."
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