Author's Note:
To those of you wondering, there are some characters in her that sound like characters in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., like Michael for instance. Sounds a lot like Coulson (especially with the quote thrown in there). It is true that some angels are very alike to S.H.I.E.L.D. but Coulson and other characters will still make appearances as humans. I hope that makes sense! Anyways.. Please enjoy and thank you for all of the lovely people who have followed/favorited this story!
Sleep. It's something that is a once- a- year thing for angels. Unless you have a human vessel in Heaven, like I do. There's only three of us who can sleep and yet, even with the gift, I don't. I can't. At night, all I've ever thought about is how I'm not like my brothers.
I've been told that they are scary but that I'm terrifying. Is it the fact that I'm an angel of death or is it that I am a brutal? All I have to get from the people I deliver is permission. I usually trick them, if I'm honest with anyone. But I can carry thousands at a time as well. It's a gift, I suppose.
And then there's my humanity. No matter how hard I've tried to forget, my real family stays with me. The only one I actually loved out of them all was my brother, Thomas. He was gentle, kind, dead; I still can't forgive myself for him ending up in Heaven before myself.
But despite all the havoc that went on inside my mind, I sat up and looked around to where I had tried to sleep. It was a room in Thomas's house. He had never blamed me, mainly because he knew I didn't want to hurt him, that I had tried to avoid it with all of my being.
I disappeared into thin air, finding the golden streets again. Some figures walked along the road but with smiles and seeing the scenery differently than others. But aside of the road, about in the middle of the grass, there was a glowing of another kind and a black silhouette sat in front of it.
With a hint of interest, I strolled to find the face of the unknown. And as I reached the light, I found thick, chestnut ringlets and a smile. Green colored digits with a black background engulfed the computer screen, some words in the mix as well. It seemed to be out of the ordinary, even if I had seen some of the oddest images of Heaven.
"So this is Heaven for you," I mumbled, leaning my hand on the desk. A laugh escaped Skye's lips, sending a shiver down not only my spine but my wings. It send my feathers making sounds as if they were lightly flapping in the wind.
"Computers are kind of my thing." She side glanced to me before beginning a "protocol". She grinned and sat back in her chair, lifting a glass with red liquid to her lips. She took a drink before setting it down again and checking her computer screen. She frowned slightly as the words "ACTION DENIED" in big, bold letters.
"If you're trying to screw with Heaven, you're not going to get very far," I murmured with a smirk.
"What makes you so sure?" There was a slight defiant curve in her lips. Sure, Heaven has no sorrow or anger but it didn't smash out an entire personality. It seemed as though she was Hell bent on proving me wrong about not accomplishing this one thing.
"Because you don't run it." I laughed and manifested a chair as she threw me an amused glare. I sat down so I could study her features better; the way she took a deep breath and exhaled it so her bangs flew up, the way her brows furrowed together in frustration.
She gave my a slight look down before finally speaking. "So what's your story?" I knew it was a distraction but even so, I found myself tensing up and looking to Thomas's house. And even so, no matter how much of a home all around me was, that small and light blue-grey house was more of a home than anything I had.
"Before I was an angel," I began, "I was trained to get the job done. I didn't get attached or emotional about anyone." I began to slip down in my chair, ending up at a slight angle. "But I didn't make it after the last mission. I was supposed to disable a weapon and before I knew it, I was dead." It was a bit more blunt that she might have wanted but that was how I was.
My eyes fell to my hands, touching a scar that I had earned so long ago. My fingers slipped up to the longer scar that ran up from the side of my wrist and almost to my elbow. All of them showed that I was a warrior, that I could handle what anyone threw at me. Sometimes it was figuratively and others are more literally.
"When did these things come in?" Skye asked, giving the top of my wings with a flick with her middle finger. They began to spread slightly, shudders running through them before tucking themselves back in. Even if I willed them, they occasionally had their own movements.
I lifted my gaze back to my brothers' house, the earthy colors catching my attention for a moment. "God said I was the guy for the job." I pulled forward some of my hair on the side of my head, showing a thin but still red scar. "So he touched my head and before I knew it, I had wings larger than most of the angels here."
"What are you staring at?" she questioned, spinning in her chair until she faced Thomas's house. "Who lives there?"
I sighed, fixing my hair slightly, my dark brown orbs flickering to her for a moment. "It's my brothers' house. His name is Thomas." Images flashed before my eyes of the times we had spent together. He was safe here, especially with me.
Before I had died, I had visited my brothers, Christian. I used intimidation (and beating him nearly to death) to have him admit to forcing me to beat Thomas, to push him into our well… The memories haunted me, more so when Christian confessed to having someone murder our little brother.
I had sprung out into a rage, killing not only him but our mother and father. My mother and father was for my vengeance but Christian was for Thomas. I couldn't let him by with killing one of the few I loved. I had set my parents on fire and stabbed him in the heart. I put his hand on the knife and walked away after setting the place on fire again.
"You look like you really care about him," Skye commented, snapping me back into reality. She gave me a faint smile, her hands lacing together.
"I do. He's my baby brother. I can protect him here and I couldn't down there." I could hear the change in my voice and feel my expression morphing into a slight pain. I still blamed myself despite knowing Christian had given me no other options.
"What do you mean you couldn't protect him?" Her face read confusion and rightfully so. How could I expect her to understand what my whole childhood had held without telling her?
I opened my mouth to explain; she would be the only one I had told in my whole life time. Even my brothers knew nothing of what I had done. And then there was God; he knew everything. But before I could get a word out, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"Brother, have you got a moment?" Michael asked, his eyes gentle but having a purpose hidden behind them. He looked down to Skye for a moment before lifting his gaze back to me. He held my arm tightly with a grip that would've broken my bones if I wasn't an angel.
"I do now, I guess," I replied, sighing and walking away from the computers and from Skye. "What?" My tone was exasperated, my eyes searching his.
He gave a tight smile, tiredness beginning to show in the crinkles near his eyes. "If I must say, you are catching up with your last passenger very.. intently." He gave a condescending chuckle, shaking his head. "You know what happens if you continue on this path, don't you?"
"Not really, no. What happens if I keep talking to people? They'll disappear?" I sighed, running my hands over my face in irritation. I had gotten this conversation from Zechariah and Joshua several times. They all loved our Father but they believed in something different; they believed that we were better than humans because all of the things we could do that they could not.
But I remembered the talk I had with God once. We were not better, mainly because they had choices to love him and we were created to love him. He explained it as having the power to destroy the world but only if someone gave you the order to, whereas humans had the choice to burn down the world, even if it caused resentment on all parties.
Michael's arrogance that my brothers had warned me of began to show as bitterness grew in his eyes. What had humans carried out to give such a reaction out of him? "Do you not remember Zephiania? He fell into the very trap that you are falling into and fell in love. With a human!" This was a rare side to him that I had never seen before. Yes, he was a warrior like the rest of us but his actions had never held the same rage as the one he had now.
I sighed and nodded; I had remembered all too well. Even though he was our brother, we took him in, made sure he held no memories of her before sending him back out to be a messenger once again. But he found her, nevertheless, by scratching at the wall we had placed. And eventually, we let go, watching him fall into humanity with her. Occasionally, we would look upon him, make sure he was safe.
"But I want you to know that I'm not a fool. I know how to keep my emotions in check, you know that. I've carried hundreds in one second. No human or angel can stop when my orders have been given." And then, I did something I haven't done in ages.
I walked away from him, hitting his shoulder against mine and hearing the hollowness of our bones in perfect sync because of the collision. He caught my elbow, his jaw clenched in anger. "Where in Heaven are you going?"
"I'm going to go home, brother. Now leave me be." I disappeared from his grip, reappearing just beyond the threshold of Thomas's house. I looked around, hoping I hadn't woken him up before sauntering to the kitchen. I wasn't exactly angry because I understood the loss of a brother but a fire was inside me. How could Michael think that humans were beneath us?
"Grant?" Thomas's voice called, footsteps on the stairs falling it. "Is that you?" He was still so young, just barely thirteen. But nevertheless, he was dead. I remembered holding him, watching his hand curl around my index finger. It was that moment were I knew I would protect him with my life. I had to save him from the same destruction that had plagued my life, that scarred my back.
I turned, my gaze becoming gentle. "Yeah, it's me. What are you doing up this late?" He joined my side, causing my hand to raise and mess with the top of his hair. He laughed a golden laugh, one that used to make me smile after my mother had torn my back to the point of making me look like a slaughtered animal.
"I was getting up anyway." He grinned before going into his kitchen, holding the door for me. I walked through as well, meeting him at the counter. "Are you doing anything today? They're having parent day in class. I wanted to bring my brother." He punched my shoulder, his eyes bright with hope.
That's one of the things that confused me about Heaven. They had classes for those who never lived long enough to actually have life on Earth. It made people like Thomas happy, even though the classes had lasted for him at least three centuries. He had died at the age of ten. Ten.
I shrugged, looking outside to a Sun beginning to rise again. How long had I spent talking to Skye and wondering around? "I have no idea. I have to work today most likely but I'll try as hard as I can to make it." I leaned against the counter, my arms crossed over my chest. "Which class is it?"
The classes lasted for four hours and at the end of the day, I walked Thomas home. He and I had grown closer since I had died; he seemed to need me more now than he had then. Even when I did protect him from Christian's wrath, he learned to survive until the end.
"The fourth. I mean, you don't have to come but I just thought…" I could see the disappointment in his expression beginning to form, only to grow when I shook my head.
"I'll be there. I promise." There had been plenty of times in my human life that I had promised things and failed. But I didn't have the ability to fail now so I hadn't failed him yet. I gave him a nod of the head before pushing off the counter and retrieving a bottle of wine from the fridge.
The red liquid rushed into the glass I had picked out, only to be stopped when I had another of my brother's voices. 'Duty calls, Grant. You have seven to do right now. Six hundred in the next three hours. Step on it.'
I groaned, rolling my eyes at Zechariah's frigid tone; he agreed with Michael that humans were maggots. "I'll see you in four hours. I'll make sure the office calls you." I vanished into thin air and ended up at Michael's side, seeing ten openings from where we stood.
"You know what you have to do," Michael bluntly announced, walking away. He engrained the times of each death in my mind by touching my temple before taking his own leave of absence. I looked around and took a deep breath, focusing on the part of my mind that allowed me to multiply myself.
I closed my eyes and focused on the searing pain, suddenly surrounded by seven versions of myself. I smirked at them before we all dove down and broke the atmosphere of Heaven once again, finding the target that the real version of myself was assigned.
It was a man in a black suit, his hands in his pockets. He gave me the look of familiarity and I realized that I recognized him. He was one of the few that I hadn't been able to carry over based on circumstances. His body was limp in a machine but no one screamed from him like they had for Skye. Had he been alone in his last moments like he had the first time?
"Is she there?" he asked, looking to me and sighing. "Or do I have to wait for everyone else?" There was no longing for pity or sympathy like the first time; Phil Coulson knew this procedure all too well, it seemed.
"Who?" I may have been a smart ally back in my days but that was long ago. I was a little slower on following people's thoughts, especially with the acquired innocence that came with being an angel. It was one of the few things that was irritating about it; certain things were wiped out of my memories because they were "impure."
"Skye. Is she there?" He turned to me on his heel, putting his hand on my shoulder. He was ready from the looks of it. I gave him a nod, an unexpected smile appearing on both of our mouths. He evidently knew her somehow, someway. And I could only imagine that she would be there waiting for him gratefully.
Three hours passed quickly, souls struggling with me but still giving an unexpected permission. I did have blood on my arms and neck, mainly from some struggling as they went. Cuts covered my body but healed as I broke back into Heaven's surface.
It was more amusing, however when I stumbled into Thomas's classroom just after all the parents had shut the door. The children's eyes were wide with surprise with how much blood covered my body, some my own and some not. But Thomas only smiled and gave me a gesture he had learned with the others. His thumb was out and his hand raised first to volunteer for our session.
His hand lowered as he stood, making his way in front of the classroom. I joined him, putting my arm on his head teasingly. I smiled down at him as he began to speak. "This is my brother, Grant. He's an angel." I recognized some of the children; I had carried them as well. And as I looked in their eyes, I knew they recognized me too.
I spread my wings, seeing the ash-grey colored feathers with splashes of blood on it. I gave a slightly guilty smile before nodding my head in agreement. "I am an angel because Father has appointed me to be. I am an angel of death."
Their eyes widened as some of them exchanged looks, others stared at me with expressions that seemed to say, "I knew it was you." And as I saw the accusing gazes of them, I wanted to say that I didn't want to, that I was doing what He had told me to do.
The hour ended with children stroking my wings, getting the ashes on their hands to reveal my white plumes. And I walked away with Thomas walking next to me and my hand on his shoulder. I smiled down at him and he seemed to beam with an unknown pride.
I stopped when the lustrous, golden streets reached out to us, giving him a nod. "I'll see you later tonight. If you need me, you know where to find me. Stay out of trouble." I gave his hair one more tousle, sending him running while trying to rearrange the new found tangles.
"Is that Thomas?" a sly, velvet voice asked from behind me. I turned to find Skye with a blue flannel shirt resting on her shoulders and black jeans underneath. Her combat boots were double-tied but the lip was tucked out almost to the label.
"Yes." My tone took a new turn; I wasn't supposed to be talking to her. But there was something about her, something that made her a variable but a pleasant variable. She was like a rose with dangerous thorns.
"He looks like you," Skye mumbled softly, crossing her arms and moving to my side as I began to walk. It was light conversation, on my part and hers but not necessarily a pleasant one.
"Thank you, I guess." I shrugged, my hands moving into my pockets as more times seared themselves into the back of my mind like a brand against skin. I hated it more every time it happened, like I was some piece that was owed by my brothers. Wasn't it enough to have to carry the world on my shoulders and in my arms. "I'll have to talk later, I suppose. I have work."
She nodded and gave me a smile, one that I mirrored back to her. But I lifted my gaze and found the shadows, a pair of brown eyes looked on mine with brown hair. The only thing I could find was disapproval from my brother, one I know would "fix the problem" before it started.