(AN. This was written for my March challenge. There were two other stories written for the challenge, by the amazing Trecebo, and the talented Icelynx, but they are original tales and as such cannot be posted here. If you would like to read them please go to my bio page and click the link for my site, then click on 'March Challenge' in the menu. Thanks and God bless!

gGg)

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Nathan groaned and opened his eyes as someone patted him gently on the cheek. "Wing, don't."

Wing shook her head slowly, ears going back in displeasure as she responded in Battle Speech. "Didn't I tell you not to try and keep up with me?"

He squinted and tried to remember, then cautiously pushed himself up on one elbow and rubbed his head. "Did you?"

Wing shook her head again, then glanced toward where their friends lay crumpled at the base of one of the huge tanks that lined the underground room where they'd holed up after driving away the raiders. "You're a drunk, Tinman."

"If you say so." He grunted and shoved himself up the rest of the way, only to overbalance as he forgot about his missing leg.

A wing wrapped around his shoulders, gently righting him as Wing offered him a canteen.

He accepted it with a shaking hand and drank deeply, then groaned as the room spun.

"Feeling like Apocalypse kicked you in the head?" Wing managed to convey a smirk despite the impassive beauty of her face.

"No, just like a dark angel's giving me grief when she's supposed to be my best friend," he said dryly, rinsing his mouth and spitting before drinking again.

"I'm no angel." She sat back and looked away.

"That's not what the people say." He smirked slightly, then winced as she suddenly raised one hand and shot a blast of fire that immolated a rat that had been walking across the ceiling. "Wing..."

She turned back to him. "Will we win? Will the Askani realize that their way is futile and reach out for the Truth?"

"Wing." Nathan pushed down his discomfort and leaned forward to put his arms around her, feeling his throat constrict at the sadness in her face. "You are an angel. You brought the Truth into our world, and the rest of us will willingly die to keep Apocalypse and the Askani from taking that truth away."

"So many battles," she sighed, her ears drooping. "So many gone Home." She looked back at the others, seeing the scars on their bodies, thinking of the ones on their souls. "Fighting just so that others don't have to fight. I'm tired, beloved."

"I know," he said softly, listening to the dull roar of a war machine passing overhead and thinking of his parents, so far back in the past that they were barely remembered. "And I know that I'll probably never see the freedom that we fight for. But you and Jean will. And we'll be together again, when you finally come Home."

Wing sighed. "There is more to life than going Home, Tinman. God wants us to live while we're alive, too."

He leaned back and looked at her, his lone blue eye full of confusion, and she sighed and shook her head.

"Never mind, love. Perhaps some day you'll understand."

He offered her the slight mouth twitch that was as close as he ever came to a smile, then sighed and went limp as his abused brain shut down again.

She's an angel with a flamethrower. He's a one-legged cyborg with a drinking problem. They fight crime.