Author's Note:

Michael in this story is like how the old Coulson would have been (sorry for the slight misunderstanding). The Coulson in the old days didn't give second chances and he also did whatever it took to keep things "clean." I do love the new Coulson a hell of a lot better though! No disses on the old Coulson either. I love them both but that it is how I took a spin on his old character from what one his former recruits said about him.

The next update on A Thesis of the Mind will be coming soon. I love you all! Thank you for all the positive feedback!

I disappeared into thin air before Michael could find me but it seemed he already had. I found myself strapped down to a chair, men surrounding me on all sides. They turned to look at me, showing the faces of what I believed were my brothers: Zechariah, Joshua, Gladriel, Micarius, Wilkin, and Daraius. Were they going to help with whatever was going to happen to me?

Michael walked in, his eyes meeting mine. "Grant, I know you must feel betrayed, that we are all going against you in this. But I assure you, my brother, this is for you and for Heaven." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I told our Father that humans would destroy us, just like they did with Zephiania. But I let you have your brother. He was there for you before we were, but that doesn't mean you find another human to attach yourself to! Are we not enough?"

His face was read with a burning anger, one that seemed to tear open Heaven and be manifested from Hell. "This is the only way I know how to save you. You know what it's like to protect someone you love; that's what I'm doing for you. Can't you see that?" His expression was almost bewildered with disbelief.

My eyes widened as he came closer, my hands struggling against the restraints, as well as my legs. "We're brothers, Michael. You don't have to do this." I saw no change in his eyes, nor no difference in the rest of them. "I won't make it easy, you know."

My hand fell, providing a knife in my hand. I cut the hand restraint and lunged for Michael, only to have Zechariah at my side. He held down my arm with a violent grip, Wilkin joining on the other side of me. Ropes appeared on my legs, holding them back tightly.

"Now, Grant, I have to wipe the slate," Michael began, taking a blade out, Heavenly inscription written on both sides. "I can't have you lost. You are my brother and I will not lose you like I lost Zephiania; no matter how much I must damage you," he explained, sending the blade into my thigh.

I clenched my teeth together, cries of pain escaping me as the next knife entered my thigh. Swords were driven through my arms, causing my shouts to shake the room violently. Where was our Father? Could he hear me? Or had Michael convinced him that it was for the best?

On each side of my temple and on the back of my head, strings with hooked ends attached sent shocks following the sensation of the hooks clamping into my scalp. Yells of agony rolled off my lips as the electricity spread through my veins. How long had our former brother had to endure this?

"I'm sorry, Grant. This is the only way," I heard before my eyes shut out the Heavens in a veil of blue and green bolts.

I awoke with a start, finding Thomas above me with a look of worry. "Are you alright?" His blonde hair was spiked up in a manner that showed he had been sleeping. His eyes focused on my arms with suspicion but nothing was questioned.

Pain hummed under my skin as I sat up, reminding me that I still had a human vessel that could feel more than the other angels could. "I'm fine. How did I get here?" My eyebrows furrowed together as I looked around, trying to remember but failing to find my answer. Had I fallen asleep for once?

"I don't know. One moment you're not there and then the next, you're lying on the floor," he replied, shrugging. His look of worry smoothed over as he ran a hand through his hair. "I don't have classes today so I was going to sleep in for a bit, alright?"

I gave him a nod in response and vanished, finding my bedroom in Thomas's house. I cleaned up, using almost four wash cloths to remove the dirt and blood from my body. My fingers touched the holes and cuts into my flesh, seeing the healing that was beginning. On each side of my temples, there were puncture wounds with a symbol in the middle. Black was at the end of the puncture wounds, showing that I would have to live with more scar tissue. What on Earth had happened to me?

After putting on a blue-grey shirt, I placed a leather jacket over it to cover my unknown wounds. I would have to ask Michael about what had happened to me. Had I lost part of my powers or was my vessel failing on me? It had never before but then again, things had changed before in Heaven.

I looked to the window, seeing different versions of Heaven all over the ground. Some held rain but had laughter, others contained the sun at their perfect temperature. It all seemed so simple, so innocent; in ways, I missed being human. In other ways, I was glad that I wasn't, that I didn't feel as much as they did.

One section caught my eye, however, out of all the Heavens that were before me. It was a woman, brown hair in curls, standing with a man. It wasn't unusual but I knew the man that she stood with: Phil Coulson. Carrying him had been difficult the second time, mainly because I thought he would slip through my hands as he had the first time.

He smiled at the girl next to him as if she were his daughter. She seemed familiar, most likely a soul I had ripped from the Earth's clutches. But something about her familiarity tugged at my memory. Why couldn't I remember her? I remembered everyone, their times, their places; all of them except her.

Her brown eyes shifted to the window and found me, her hand lifting up. She waved, a smile sketching itself onto her lips. I tilted my head in confusion before pulling the curtain between us. None of the souls that I carried ever waved at me, much less acted friendly to me. Why was she? What made her so different?

I cleared my throat and walked out of my room, finding my brother back onto the couch. I felt the edges of my lips curl into a smile because he looked so peaceful. He had every reason to as well; he was safe here.

I opened the door, taking in the scent of rain and blooming flowers all at once. I searched left and right before entering the house, being sure that I wasn't being hunted. But why did I feel that way? No demon nor the devil himself could enter without God's consent. So why did I feel as though something sinister was close?

I looked around, catching the girl's eye once again. I bit my lip, unable to look away from her but unable to stay where I was for much longer. I faded from the air and appeared in Lucian's headquarters, seeing children with their family members. His eyebrows rose when he saw me, his lips sketched with wonder. "Grant? May I help you?"

He had helped me find Thomas when I was human and was more accepting of my relationship with my real brother, unlike my other angelic brothers. "I heard that you can recover memories. Is it true?"

"Yes, I can. I can also remove memories that might cause pain and such. Why do you wish to know?" His green eyes held genuine curiosity, as if he knew my situation was different.

"I need you to look in my head and find the last twenty four hours in my mind. I can't remember anything about yesterday. Is it just my human vessel or is it my brain?" I asked quietly, my eyebrows furrowing together to try to recover it myself.

"Very well. Come behind the counter and step into the room on the left," he instructed, giving me a smile and a polite nod. His eyes then fell back to the paper he was writing on, his occupation becoming refocused.

I entered the room, sitting down in the gray and blue chair that was in the middle of the room. The room smelled of rain and faintly of sea salt, two of my favorite scents. My surroundings morphed around me into enough light for a full moon, a slight breeze accompanying it to spread the scent around the room.

"So this is how you like the atmosphere?" Lucian's voice interrupted, the rustling of his wings fading.

"Well excuse me if I like peace more than you do," I mumbled with a small laugh. I felt his hands on my head, images beginning to flash in front of my eyes. I could feel the green that began to overtake my irises of brown, showing that I was having walls torn down.

I saw the beginning of the day, how I'd began to talk to Thomas. But then the girl I had seen earlier sat next to me, looking at peace and unafraid. Who was she? Why did I look like I was comfortable around her?

Children surrounded me, laughing and stroking my strangely discolored feathers. I could feel my brother's pride before it crashed into the feeling of agony. The scene had suddenly flashed to me being strapped to a chair, screaming.

Shocks of white entered my head as I sat with my head thrown back in pain. Michael simply shook his head and repeated that he was "sorry" and that it was the "only way to save me." Why was he just watching? Why did he seem like he was almost bursting into tears from my pain?

The image shut down, the moonlight only surrounding us. A sudden stream of burning light entered my head, threatening to burst through my skull. The pain sent my head back, my body breaking into convulsions as I fought to keep my body from breaking apart.

I blinked quickly, my eyes searching around the room. The room held nothing but moonlight and the smell of rain. What happened to me? Why did I feel as though my mind had been ripped apart and sewn back together? I took a deep breath, thinking of the events of yesterday. They easily came to me, almost too easy.

"So all I did was go to Thomas's class and carry souls?" I asked, feeling as though I had missed something in my sentence.

"Yes, that is all, I swear." Lucian's tone had taken a quick turn from friendly to terrified. I felt the wind of several pairs of wings, causing me to turn around. But my brother had disappeared almost into thin air. Where had he gone to? Why did he need more than himself?

I willed my mind to reach out to him, my body finding the outside of what appeared to be an operating room. I looked through the window and felt anger bubble under my skin. Michael stood before him, an angelic blade in his hand.

"What does he know?" he demanded of our brother, his eyes flashing gold with the promise of murder.

"He knows what happened yesterday. Everything but what you all did to him. I wiped it out." The angelic blade was then plunged into Lucian's shoulder and drug down to the middle of his arm. Beads of sweat began to dampen her hairline as he kept his composure from the wound.

"But I know what you did to him. So the second you kill me, the second he knows everything," he continued, glaring at his older brother. "So go ahead. Tear me to shreds. But you'll have him and God to deal with; and I promise you, Grant will make you wish you were in Hell. I've seen what he did to his own real brother for less than what you did to him. He'll-"

"I did it to protect him!" Michael shouted, twisting the knife. "He was going to fall," he whispered softly, his eyes focused on his brother's intently. "He was so close to falling. He was so close to.. You have no idea how he felt around her. By doing what I did, I have rescued him. Who knows what he would've done if he had still had his memories."

"I can understand taking them but what you did to him was much worse than that. You tortured it out of him, Michael. I could feel his pain when you dug your knives into him, when you shocked him until his brain was almost beyond repair. I felt him wanting to cry out for our Father because of what you did to him. Now tell me how in Heaven's name you can justify that to the rest of us?" Lucian shook his head, sweat rolling down his cheek, his eyes showing how scared he truly was.

"I don't have to make anyone else understand. They know that he's not like us. They know that he's more likely to end up corrupt," Michael growled, his eyes blazed with anger. "And I know you won't say a word to anyone. You know why? Because you're a coward."

I flattened against the wall, my eyes wide with slight despair. What had they done to me? What were they going to do to Lucian? I looked up into the sky, taking a deep breath. I knew I was going to sound like a child begging but I had no other choice. 'Father, I know I don't pray, but I need to speak with you. I need you.'