Silver rain whispered harshly through the trees and into the grass, sadness echoing through each thick drop as it crashed against its target. Nature was mourning a loss. A loss that, although the person was seemingly no one special, would create a huge rift in the balance of nature.

A large raven swooped down between the trunks of trees and under the canopy of leaves, hurriedly swerving to dodge the rain as it fell. It's wings flapped sporadically as it flew, a sign of injury and weakness. The bird's attempts were unsuccessful as rain pelted it's crooked wings, leaving the large bird sputtering in the air. The raven, unfortunately, lost the fight of holding itself, instead rapidly crashing down through branches and leaves.

The raven landed in springy, green grass with an unfortunate thud followed by an unsatisfying crunch. It's wings twitched rapidly, fighting for one last time to pick itself off of the ground. Its attempts were futile in the end, highlighted by the life visibly leaving its black eyes. It thrashed harshly only for a few seconds more before it went still.

The grass waved around the large raven, a relatively small life in the large forest. Rain pelted against its body, sleeking its black feathers against its thin frame. The wind picked up as nature became more upset, pulling feathers from its body and scattering them outwards. The spiral had already begun, upsetting the balance.

The feathers danced through the air, swirling in their own tornadoes of leaves and shrubbery scraps as they scattered across the forest. Two feathers broke off from the swirling circle, fluttering through the trees to a clearing. The two feathers rose above a limp figure before quickly fluttering down, landing on the body.

The figure was a brunet man, laying in the center of the wooded field. Lightning crashed across the sky as the black feathers touched his skin, nature sorrowful with the two lives lost, one the cause of the other.

Blood seeped into the forest floor from the gaping hole in his stomach and another in his chest. A sword pierced through his body at an odd angle, rusted brown with dried blood. His guts were spilled carelessly out of him into the grass, messily tied up in a pile. His hands were pressed against his body just above his stomach, covered in his own blood, as if he were trying to stop himself from dying. His attempts were far from useful. The sword had stabbed and gutted him quickly, far too quickly for him to stop it.

His mouth hung open as blood slowly trickled out from it, his eyes half lidded and unmoving from the amount of blood he had lost that left him lifeless. The earth surrounding his body was stained a dark red, pooling as the blood rushed out of him too quickly for the earth to keep up with.

A loud whoosh echoed off the trees as a pair of blindingly white wings lowered a man into the field. The rain never once touched him, an invisible ring around him shielding the rain away. His head whipped around quickly, loosening the thick blonde hair he had fastened into a low bun. His thick, white tail swished anxiously behind him and around his legs. A large, white mask obscured his face, but not his vision as he scanned the field.

His eyes landed on the limp, broken body in the center of the field, and everything stopped. The rain froze mid fall, the wind stopped, the birds chirping in the trees stopped, everything stopped. His metaphorical heart stopped, he couldn't move.

All he could think was, "he had failed."

His body finally jolted and he was brought back to reality, the world resuming around him. The God gagged at the gruesome sight in front of him, his ears flattening against his head. He rushed forward as soon as he felt like he wasn't going to collapse, stumbling to his knees as soon as he was in front of the human. He pulled the mask off his face, abandoning it into the grass next to him with a light toss, and stared helplessly down at the man in front of him.

His stomach stirred uneasily, threatening to reject what little food he had eaten in the day. His heart squeezed viciously, akin to what he assumed a stabbing in his chest would feel like. His hands roamed over his wounds, forcing himself to swallow.

"George." A broken sob escaped the God as he pulled the smaller boy into his lap. "Georgie."

The God scrambled desperately to put his insides back where they belonged, pressing his hands over the largest hole in his stomach. His actions meant nothing, and he knew that, but he needed to try. His mind pleaded for himself to save him, no matter the fact that it was too late, he felt the words bubbling in his throat as he willed the man back to life. He had failed.

His hands ghosted the area around the sword. It was pushed into his body nearly all the way to the hilt, the blade protruding from his back. He shouldn't pull it out, he knew that, but George wasn't living. He had taken his last breath a long time ago, no matter how little he wanted to believe it. He took a deep breath and wrapped his hand around the handle, yanking the sword out of him. Once free, he carelessly tossed the sword into the grass, wanting it out of his sight completely.

"Please wake up! Please please please!" He cried out, body shaking with his sobs as he pushed his forehead against George's, ears flattened back against his head.

Tears ran down his face, dripping down onto George's cheeks. The God pulled the man closer, burying his face into his hair as he sobbed loudly. He moved his left hand, pressing it into George's cheek and stroking it softly with his thumb. The hurt in his heart and stomach only worsened, the invisible knife twisted before feeling as though it was being pulled out and stabbed back into him repeatedly, while his stomach felt as though it were going to cave in on itself.

As the God mourned, he didn't notice the thick vines slowly winding down from the trees, making their way to the small brunette. The vines slowly crept up on the pair, claiming the body of the brunet man, wrapping around his limbs and middle. Flowers bloomed across the vines as they wrapped around his limbs, bright blues and pinks growing larger and larger. The God desperately clutched onto George, the patches of skin he was gripping turning gold. His heart pleaded with him to not let the man go, he didn't want to let him out of his arms.

But he collected himself as much as he could, picking his head up, eyes rapidly looking between the vines wrapping around George and the way his fingertips left his skin gold. The stabbing feeling in his gut was slowly dissipating, he knew what was happening. Nature was claiming him, he was too much to lose. He, too, was going to be a God.

The God loosened his grip on George and set him softly into the grass, which turned into a patch of clovers the second the brunet was set onto it. He watched as the vines wrapped tighter around him, the flowers blooming larger and larger.

The God desperately wracked his brain, trying to remember ancient words, ones that would bring his beloved back sooner, sooner than the hundred of years it took to create a God. Finally, his racing brain supplied them and he moved both his hands to hold each of George's cheeks, ignoring the gold and blood now covering them. He pressed his forehead against the brunets, reciting the almost forgotten words softly.

"I videre vision tuum enim et anima mea, postulatio eum ut pars vestra mundus. Ipse est ille quaeris, altissimam potentiam ipse videbitur. Vultum tuum, et votum ut credimus esse verum. Dignus est vis numinis impertiri. Qui autem mundus est lucis, et bonum."

I see your vision and my soul requests him to be a part of your world. He is the one you seek, he will be seen as a supreme power. Your countenance and your desire to believe it to be true. The power of the deity is worthy to bestow. He who is clean and light and good.

The vines wrapped tighter around his body, the trees whispering softly. The God understood their words, and the earth urged him forward to continue. It knew what was coming and it was pleased. The God gently wiped the tears out of his eyes, tightening his grip on George's face, continuing to recite the next lines softly.

"Summa potentia, summa homines in mundo confidunt tibi. Tuto perducas homines ad sua fata, quia semper verum est quod dicis. Tuum fac illum unum, ut illum mortalem non videant. Creatura est, quae maxime ad vos pertinet."

The greatest power, the greatest people in the world trust you. You safely lead people to their fates, because what you say is always true. Make him one of yours, that they may not see him as mortal. He is the creature that belongs to you the most.

The wind grew heavier around them, whipping branches and leaves off of the trees surrounding the clearing. The God grinned through the pain he felt in his heart, wiping his eyes quickly as he followed the movement, it was working. Everything was going the way it was meant to, everything was going to be okay. He sat up a bit straighter, pulling his bun apart and running his hands through his hair, repeating the last bit of the ancient text.

"Non mortalis amplius. Sanguis ruber in venis tuis non est, vivificare non oportet. Divina natura, tuum lumen da alicui non habenti tempus. Nunc potius quam postea haec lux opus est."

You are not mortal anymore. There is no red blood in your veins, you don't need to keep them alive. Divine nature, give your light to someone not having time. Now rather than later, there is great need for this light.

The vines quickly retreated, leaving George to rest in the bed of clovers. The color of the sky changed rapidly from a sacherine orange to a smokey purple as the moon rose at an abnormal pace to block the sun, creating a solar eclipse. In the dark, the blood that practically stained George's entire being turned bright blue. Once all of his blood had turned, his stomach began to stitch itself together, building up layers of tissue from the inside to the out. Next was his chest, slowly reconstructing his ribcage before reconstructing the layers of split skin.

The God prayed to himself silently, hoping the scripture had worked completely. His wounds had been healed, but he hoped he would be immortal — so they would have forever together. His tail tip twitched anxiously as he lifted his head to look at the sky. There was only one more sign needed that would tell him that everything had gone according to plan.

A blindingly white light beamed down from the moon and lit up George's entire body. His eyes shot open, an even brighter white light filling them. The wind picked up, swirling leaves and flowers around him in tornado-like fashion. Then it started, the changes rippled through his body. A pair of fluffy, bright, white wings erupted from his back at the same time antlers grew rapidly from his head. His bones cracked and snapped as his body reformed, reshaping to fit his new characteristics.

A tail of what seemed to be of catlike origin curled around him, giving off the impression of George being scared. Soft, tan ears replaced his own, taking on the similar appearance of a highland cow, just a tad longer. His eyes seemed larger and more doe-like, the white light now replaced with his original heterochromic eyes, full of light brown and light blue, his pupils nowhere to be seen. His eyes also had longer eyelashes, albeit a small change considering his eyelashes had always been on the longer side.

His nose was now smaller, taking on the appearance of a deer's nose. The last change was patches of moss with white flowers growing across his forearms and small spots on his face, taking over the splotches of gold from his lover's hands.

The sky slowly returned to the golden orange it had been earlier as George slowly came to. The brunet blinked his eyes quickly as he sat up, rubbing a hand across his face dreamily. The God who sat before him lunged at him, wrapping his arms tightly around George and grinning as he melted into him.

"Dream." He murmured softly, his voice hoarse and rough.

Dream grinned at the sound of his voice, tightening his arms around him. "Te amo. Amo te tam multo."

"Latin, seriously? You know I don't…" George trailed off and pulled away from Dream quickly, staring at him with wide eyes.

I love you. I love you so much.

"...Speak Latin." He had never been able to speak Latin before, anytime Dream would speak it he would be completely lost. But he understood just now. He understood.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Dream smiled softly, reaching out and brushing his fingers against George's cheek.

"What happened to me?" He asked carefully, his shoulders tensing and his whole body shuddering as he could feel the wings following the motion inwards. "I was completely gutted, but I'm alive now. And I can understand Latin. And I have wings. And a tail."

"And antlers and ears." Dream supplied for him, moving his hands down to rest on George's upper arms. "Sometimes when mortals have a strong connection to the world around them, the universe decides the best thing to do is to make them a god so as to not anger what they have an attachment to, yours happened to be nature. I just sped up the process that can take centuries to occur."

God of Nature. Though it should sound strange to George, it oddly sounded right. He studied Dream for a moment, trying to take in everything. Dream was the God of Protection, granted his appearance seemed more like the God of War. His facial features were sharp, he had curled rams horns coming down from the top of his head, and his ears and tail seemed more wolf-like, not anything George would match with protection. For a moment he wondered how terribly he must have felt to watch George bleed, already dead in the grass, knowing he had failed his purpose.

Dream's fingers hooked under his chin, tilting his head up. "I can practically hear your thoughts."

"Were you scared?" George asked softly. "Seeing me like that?"

Dream nodded quickly, "I thought I had lost you forever. You have no idea how badly the pain that I felt was. I knew I would lose you one day, but seeing it happen was just too much."

"How did you know I was here?" George whispered. "I was practicing alone. No one ever comes here."

Dream sighed, his eyes lowering to look at the ground. "I was told. I wish I would have known sooner so I could save you, but…"

George offered a sad smile in understanding, placing his hand around Dream's wrist. The two paused for a minute, taking in each other, getting over the fact that this could have all disappeared moments ago. George leaned forward, planting his hands on top of Dream's thighs. He tilted his head up, catching Dream's lips in a kiss. Dream kissed him back desperately yet softly, and George could feel the relief washing off the blond through the kiss. It was obvious Dream thought he would never have the chance to do this again.

"You're alive." Dream pulled away and whispered against his cheek. "And you're with me."

"I am," George replied softly. "Forever. I am here with you forever."

Dream threw his arms back over George, pulling him tightly against his chest. George laughed loudly, pressing his forehead against him akin to how a cat nudges someone they love. The two of them sat like that, wrapped up in each other, for as long as they could. Neither of them truly wanted to move, the shock had not rinsed off of them completely. When the two of them finally pulled away, a flutter of black feathers caught Dream's eye.

"George, look!" Dream whispered excitedly, pointing across the field.

At the edge of the woodline, a raven sat on the branch of a fallen tree. It looked almost completely normal until it fluttered its wings. In pieces of its wing, and even on parts of its body, white feathers seemed to replace feathers that had been pulled from it. Its frame was boney and jagged, as if its bones had been broken and put back together, left to fend for itself once again.

George grinned and waved to the bird. "Hi birdie, how're you?"

The raven cocked its head at him before opening its wings and fluttering over. It landed next to the two of them, tilting its head left and right as it analyzed the two of them. Suddenly, it hopped up onto George, who yelped in shock that the bird actually landed on him, but the raven didn't seem to mind.

"It likes you." Dream smiled, reaching his hand out to stroke the raven's head. "Look at you, already leaning into your role as a god."

George narrowed his eyes at the bird, there was something off about it, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. "You're right, it does like me."

"Come on." Dream stood from his place on the ground and held his hands out for George to grab. "Let's go home. I need to find who did this to you."

"Okay. I'm not sure he's even alive." George grabbed Dream's hands, pulling himself up onto wobbly feet. "You may have some trouble finding him."

"What do you mean?" Dream's eyebrows furrowed. "Did you hurt him?"

"I did," George nodded. "I shot him in the stomach with an arrow before he killed me. I watched him rip it out of himself before I lost consciousness. It ripped his stomach open more, I doubt he saved himself."

Dream frowned, but the happiness was not disguised in his eyes. "Right. Well, that's something to worry about when we return home."

"Home." George grinned, his eyes sparkling. "We have forever together, Dream. There's nothing to worry about now."

"Forever." Dream murmured softly to himself as he pulled George closer, connecting their lips in a soft kiss.

The raven fluttered off of George's arm, instead going to rest on a nearby branch, watching and waiting for its cue to follow. Dream's hands moved to cup George's cheeks, and George held tightly onto his waist. Dream kissed George like it was his lifeline, like he would never get to do it again. But they had all the time in the world and nothing to lose. They would have each other for eternity.

They were two gods who finally had the time to love each other, and who would never have to worry about losing each other again.