Hi! Oh man, I've got some big plans up my sleeve. Can't wait for your feedback! Love you guys, and I can't thank you enough for your patience and support! xx

NPOV

We pass the rest of the day in relative normalcy, lounging around and doing anything to distract ourselves from last night's events. Not that we didn't acknowledge that it happened, but we decided that dwelling on the past won't change our future.

Patch told me, in so many words, that he has 'taken care of' whomever he met at the cemetery last night. Despite my begging, he claimed that continuing to keep me in the dark was the only way to keep me safe. After a while, I threw my hands in the air and gave up. There's really no fighting with a protective guardian angel.

We sit next to each other on the couch, watching a movie. But we're not really paying attention; we end up talking through most of it. We talk about anything and everything. I will never stop being amazed at his stories. And I could definitely listen to that golden voice for hours on end.

I hear the oven timer in the kitchen go off, catching my attention with its loud beep. Earlier, I had put some cinnamon buns in the oven for Patch and I. They are our favorite guilty pleasure treats. Trying to untangle myself from the web of blankets and our crossed limbs, I yell at the incessant beeping, "Oh, hold on! I'm coming, I'm coming."

When I finally get untangled and hop off the couch to go to the kitchen, Patch smacks me right on the bottom. I yelp and scold him saying, "Patch!" I squint my eyes and stick out my tongue, walking away from him and rubbing the sore spot on my butt. He has a pirate grin on, laughing and saying, "I couldn't resist, Angel."

I still have a smile on my face when I reach for the oven mitt. I pull the pan out of the oven and walk a couple feet to the island to set it down. But, with all of my infinite clumsiness, I stumble over my own feet and the pan slips from my grasp.

The searing pan strikes my arm, and I loudly yell, "Shit!" It clatters noisily to the floor, breaking into a couple of large pieces and ruining the pastries. The crash was ear-shattering, echoing through the room.

Before I know it, Patch is right there, holding my shoulders and asking me if I'm okay. I cradle my burnt arm against my chest and nod quickly. "Yeah, Patch. I'm fine, I'm fine, just a clumsy accident." I shake my head and grit my teeth at the burn that I refuse to look at. It probably looks worse than it feels.

"Angel, let me see that. Let's run it under cold water." I hold out my arm and look at his face, because I don't like looking at injuries. His face scrunches and he says, "Ouch. That'll look bad later." He turns to flip on the faucet.

My arm is tingling a bit, but it doesn't hurt like a burn usually does. Patch turns on the faucet and tells me to stick my arm in the water. He then crouches down and picks up the large pieces of glass and mumbles, "Angel, angel, angel… you are a danger to yourself."

The faucet is running in the sink, but it sounds like water is rushing through my ears. A shard of glass in Patch's hand catches a beam of sunlight that is streaming through the window. The light reflects into my eye and I squint with its intensity. The tingling in my burned arm is getting stronger. All of my senses are heightened.

I look down at my arm and my mouth drops open. "Holy shit!" I exclaim, getting louder with each second. I thrust my arm away from my body, holding it out like it's an alien or something. "What?! What's happening, Patch?" Patch shoots up from the ground and watches my arm in fear and awe.

As we watch, the skin on my arm is healing. Where there was a long, angry burn, my normal, healthy skin is taking its place. Almost as if the burn is fading or new healthy skin is moving over it or I don't know what. All I know is that it's healing. Fast.

Within ten more seconds, my arm is completely healed. Normal. No sign of any burn or scar. The skin up and down my forearm has a faint glow, fading after another minute.

Patch and I stand there speechless. How do you react to something like that? What the hell even was that? I look over at him, who is still staring at my arm, thinking and dumb-struck. He is frozen to his spot, not blinking and obviously trying to come up with an explanation. He is silent and in shock.

I get a crazy idea.

Before I can talk myself out of it and before he can stop me, I lunge for a large kitchen knife on the counter. The sharpest one. In one swift move, I slice open the palm of my hand with the edge of the blade, hissing through my teeth. Blood drips out of the gash onto the floor as I ball my hand into a fist.

"Angel! Stop!" Patch unfreezes and springs at me, grabbing the knife out of my hand. "Are you crazy?! What are you doing?"

I stand there smiling and holding my tingling palm in a fist against my side. He couldn't look more confused and upset. "Why in the bloody hell are you smiling?"

I laugh and I hold up my hand to him. Once again, even faster this time, the cut is nearly healed. The only proof that it ever happened is the blood on the knife. Once again, Patch knits his brows and says, "What is happening here, Nora?"

While he is terrified that I'll try to stab myself next, I'm fascinated. What is this strange new healing power that my body has acquired? "Patch, I know that nephilim healing is fast, but it's nothing like this. I don't know what is happening!" I look at my arm and my hand again, at the glowing new skin.

"Don't try anything else. Please. You'll give me a heart attack." He sounds genuinely worried and I can tell that he is really upset by my little stunt with the knife.

I laugh and throw my arms around his neck, getting close and saying, "This is so strange! Just last night I was so weak, but now I'm better than ever? I don't get it. It's strange. It's wonderful!" I am giddy with excitement and wonder.

When I don't feel him hug me back, I pull back to look at him. I lay my hand on his arm as he stares at the ground, his mind spinning in circles. He begins to shake his head and mumbles, "I'll… I'll talk to Detective Basso. He might know something about your new nephilim abilities. And if he doesn't know himself, he can point us to someone who does know."

I nod my head and tell him, "You can talk to Basso if that will make you feel better." I take Patch's face in both of my hands, forcing him to meet my stare. "Patch. This is a good thing. Try not to worry too much about it. If anything goes badly, or if I'm not feeling well again, you'll be the first to know. I promise." He lets out a shaky breath and says ok, but his smile is forced.

Once we've finished cleaning up the mess of the shattered dish and the bloody knife, I take his hand and lead him out of the kitchen and back to the couch. He plops himself down and pats the empty space next to him, telling me to sit down.

I bite my lip and sigh heavily of relief when I sit my tired body down. I wish understood what was happening to me. And truthfully, I think to myself, I wish I had some time to explore what's happening to me. Alone, and without Patch's worry.

Patch plays with a strand of my hair and says, "Do you want to stay in tonight or go out?"

I think before saying, "Let's stay in tonight, and go out tomorrow night." I'm tired right now but Patch and I haven't had a date night in a while, so I make a promise to go out with him tomorrow.

He seems happy with that plan. He chuckles to himself before saying, "Angel, you stay here and I'll go out to the grocery store to grab some ingredients to make dinner. I can't trust you not to hurt yourself again with another clumsy kitchen accident." He winks at me and stands.

"What will we have for dinner, chef?"

He rubs his hands together and says in the cheesiest French accent, "Tonight, mademoiselle, we will dine on the delicacy of macaroni and cheese. My specialty."

I mimic his accent, batting my eyelashes and saying sweetly, "Oh monsieur! That is exactly what I've been wanting!" Patch pulls me in, embracing me in a tight hug. The ferocity of the hug catches me off guard, and I pat his back and squeak out, "Uh, Patchy, a little too tight there."

He laughs and steps back, smiling down at me. He quickly grabs his keys from the table and says, "I'll be back in a little bit, Angel."

To his retreating form, I call out, "Patch, please don't stress yourself over what happened tonight. I'll be fine!"

I hear the front door shut without an answer from Patch. I'm thinking that he probably just didn't hear me.

PPOV

On my way out the door, I hear Nora call out, "Patch, please don't stress yourself over what happened tonight. I'll be fine!"

I pretend to not hear her but I mumble to myself, "I'll do everything in my power to make sure that you will be fine, Angel. I swear it."

The hum of the Jeep's engine feels good underneath my feet. I fly around the curves of back roads, too lost in my thoughts to turn on the radio.

The truth is, Nora is scaring me. And I am definitely not one that admits fear easily. My entire life, centuries upon centuries, I have acted tough and unbreakable. But my Angel is breaking me.

Everything that has to do with her, I know about and I understand. She has shared everything with me - her thoughts, her secrets, her fears, even her body. But this is scaring me. Nora has been acting so unlike herself since I began talking to the archangels. The headache and quick turnaround, being lost and delirious in the woods. And today. God, I can't even begin to understand today's events.

Her burned skin healed before our eyes. She freaking sliced her palm open and recovered in seconds. I don't know what to think. Although it is a healing power, I'm not exactly happy with her new abilities. Because now, she will think that she is invincible… and that is the biggest danger.

I slip into a spot in the crowded parking lot, sinking into my seat. I dig out my cell phone from my pocket and dial a number.

One ring. Two rings. "Pick up, dammit." Three rings. Four. Five. "The number you have reached is currently unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone." Beep.

"Uh, hey." I hate that I sound nervous, but I am. "It's Patch. Just, uh, call me back right when you get this. It's important." With that, I hang up.

The phone flies out of my hand, landing on the passenger seat. I stare at it with immense hate, as if my glare could catch it on fire or make it fall apart. Sighing, I defeatedly pick it up and slide it back into my pocket. I get out of the Jeep, slamming the door and locking it over my shoulder as I walk into the food store.

Inside, I feel weirdly normal. A shopping cart, a make-shift list that I scribbled on a note card, and my wallet. A normal guy with normal things. As I stare at the countless brand names for boxed mac and cheese, I can almost forget the archangels, and Nora's condition, and the fact that I have no idea how to handle any of it. Almost.

As I reach for the box, my cell phone rings loudly from my pocket. "Shit!" I yell. An elderly woman that stands a couple paces away peers at me over her glasses and purses her lips, clearly offended. I can't be bothered to say sorry, I'm trying to get to this damn phone before it stops ringing.

Stupidly, I pick up the phone but I don't look at the caller ID. "Hello? Nora?"

A second of brief silence if followed by a low chuckle and a deep voice saying, "Sorry to disappoint. It's not Nora."

I run my hand over my face and close my eyes. Of course. "Basso. Thanks for calling me back."

"Yeah, yeah. What can I do for you, Patch? It's been a while. Is everything ok?"

As I pick up the mac and cheese box, I look around and lower my voice, "No, Basso. Not really. There is a lot that I need to discuss with you." When he starts to become concerned, I whisper, "No one is hurt, but I need your help."

"With what?"

I take in a deep breath as I walk quickly towards the front of the store. "Basso, I consider you a friend. I know that I can trust you, so I think you should know whats going on."

"Listen, before you say anything, I heard rumors that a couple of archangels have been acting suspicious. Gabriel and Raphael, two of the most influential archangels, have been reported missing for a few days. I'm one of the only archangels that stay in human form for the majority of the time, but they have recently acquired their physical forms to 'do business', as they reported. They were supposed to report back yesterday, but they haven't come back. Please tell me that you have nothing to do with them, Patch."

"Shit!" I exclaim, once again getting the scornful attention of children and elderly alike. They were the two that I met in the cemetery the other night! Could the blessed arrow that we shot them with have something to do with their absence? We shot them thinking that it would destroy their physical forms, and they would report back to Heaven in the spiritual forms. Where are they now? "Listen, Basso. I have been involved with them."

"What?! Why didn't you tell me?" he shouts, making me pull the phone away from my ear.

"Because I'm handling it! And, and… I don't want more people to get hurt than I've already hurt." I whisper the last part, the truth of my statement rocking me to my core.

"This isn't the end of that conversation, I won't forget about Raphael and Gabriel. But if thats not what you were calling for, what is it?"

I stammer, "Well, I…" His silence on the other end prompts me to just spit it out and say, "Something is going on with Nora."

He sharply inhales. "Like what, Patch?"

"She was terribly weak and fragile for the past couple days, but then today she suddenly made a miraculous recovery. She acquired a new nephilim ability, Basso. I figured I would tell you, because you know a lot about the nephilim and you're close to Nora."

Basso seems to be mulling this over. Finally he says, "I haven't heard of any newfound nephilim abilities in centuries. What does her ability entail?"

I think back to today and shudder. "Basso, she can… heal herself. But not like normal nephilim healing. Like, in seconds she can be fully healed from a deep gash wound or a third degree burn."

"Anything else?" Basso asks.

I think carefully, trying to remember everything that we did today. "I don't know, Basso. She just seems so wrapped up in her head, like she's never experienced anything until today. She kept saying she felt like new."

In the store, I walk up to the register and give a small smile to the friendly, middle-aged woman working there. I need to get home to Nora. As I talk to Basso, she rings me up and hands me the bag. I start to walk to my Jeep.

"Okay, Patch. I'll rest on it and try to come up with something that can explain it. We'll be in touch."

"Wait! What should I do in the meantime?" I ask, before he can hang up. By now, I'm getting into the car, ready to be home.

He sighs on the other end and says, "Patch, I'm sure she's scared too, even though she might act like she's not. Just comfort her. Let her know that you're there for her. Honestly, that's all you can do right now. Goodbye, Patch." The line goes dead.

I feel like such an idiot. How could I not think about her feelings? I just was wrapped up in my own head, trying to figure out how to fix this. I didn't take into account how she would feel about the changes happening to herself. I better get home soon, so I can see her and apologize to her.

When I step into the door of our place, I expect to see Nora's smiling face there to greet me like she usually does. But I don't. "Angel?" I call out.

I hear her scurry down the hall. She appears in the doorway down the hall, wearing a nice sundress. The sun pours in from the window behind her, creating a soft halo-like glow around her body. "My Angel," I smile, taking her in and looking at her with such love. She smiles back at me, an innocent and sweet smile that pulls at my heart. I can't live without this woman.

I walk quickly to where she is; I can't stand being apart another second. Our lips meet, crushing together as if we've been apart for days went it's only been about an hour. In between kisses, she tells me, "I've been a good girl. No more kitchen accidents." She giggles against my lips and I take her into my arms, bridal style.

She gasps at the sudden weightless feeling and closes her eyes. She throws her hands out and tells me to spin. I spin us into our kitchen. She shrieks with pleasure, reminding me of what a young Nora would be like. She locks my eyes when we stop spinning and she frowns. I say to her, "Sorry, Angel. Chef Patch has some work to do." I deposit her onto the counter and begin to make the mac and cheese.

She silently watches me, as if she is memorizing the steps. But I know that she already knows the steps for mac and cheese. So I turn to her with a questioning look. "What? Can't keep your eyes away?" I smirk.

My grin falls when I actually look at her. She was staring at me, but she wasn't watching what I was doing. She was just staring. A blank stare. I get a little panicky. "Uh, Angel?" I wave a hand in front of her and step towards her.

She snaps out of it. "Sorry, P. I got lost in my thoughts I guess." She shrugs her shoulder and laughs it off. But I keep catching her staring at me, and all around me, with a sort of wonder and fascination in her eyes.

What has gotten into my Angel?

Basso better have some answers.

A/N: Oh man, Nora. You've got some crazy shit going on. Please review my lovely readers! xx