Two months later…

"How was your day?" Lucy asked brightly, bouncing over to where Olivia stood near the door, kicking off her shoes and dropping her bag after a long day at work.

It was, Olivia thought, a little bit like having a wife. A perky, cheerful wife who was probably too young for her, but still. Every night when she came home from work Lucy was there; Lucy spent all day looking after McKenna, and most nights she cooked dinner, and always made sure there was enough left for Olivia. Lucy kept the house clean, and Lucy always, always asked how was your day? and Olivia always, always lied to her. It was Marcus who'd found Lucy, Marcus who'd drawn up the NDA and promised Olivia that McKenna's secret would be safe with Lucy. So far it was; who was Lucy gonna tell, anyway? Who would believe her, if she claimed to be watching after a child with angel's wings? Lucy didn't seem to be interested in notoriety, but she was very interested in the healthy paycheck she received from Olivia each week, and so far the system was working. Olivia was working with McKenna, slowly teaching the girl how to pull in her wings, how to hide them so that she could navigate the world safely, and maybe one day soon McKenna wouldn't need to spend so much time with Lucy. Maybe one day soon she'd be able to venture out of the apartment without scaring Olivia half to death. Then again, maybe not; maybe Olivia would always be afraid for her daughter's safety.

"Fine," Olivia said. The day had been fine. The work had been compelling, exhausting, consuming, the way it always was, and she had enjoyed Fin's company, and she felt a certain sense of satisfaction at having closed a case the way she always did. There was grief in her heart still, though, Elliot's empty desk across from hers a shrine to all the things she had lost. It was two months, now, since they'd come back from the cabin, and she had not spoken to him, not even once, and she knew in her heart she never would again. At least, not this version of him.

I'll see you next time.

Christ, she hoped she would, and wondered who'd he be, the next time they crossed paths. In this life she'd fucked up too badly, would never be able to fix what she had broken. Maybe next time she'd get it right.

"How did things go here?" she asked.

"Oh, we had a great day!" Lucy assured her. "McKenna is doing so well with her shapes and colors. We're working on recognizing letters. I think she'll be reading before kindergarten. Honestly, Olivia, she's so smart."

That was true, and Olivia knew it. When they'd met her McKenna had been reticent and quiet, hardly speaking at all, but she was beginning to blossom, with help from Olivia and Lucy and the telehealth therapist she saw once a week. Horror had unfolded all around McKenna, and Olivia worried about how that horror might simmer in her little brain, how it might manifest itself later on, but for all the atrocities committed in McKenna's vicinity the girl hadn't actually seen very much, and seemed to be adjusting well. Small mercies, Olivia thought.

"Thank you," Olivia said. "Are you going to be all right getting home? Want me to call you a cab or something?"

"I'll be fine," Lucy said, the way she always did. "Have a good weekend!"

"You, too."

And then Lucy was dancing out the door, and Olivia was alone in her quiet apartment, the sounds of her daughter's little snores from the baby monitor the only noise she could hear, and a comforting one. The next two days she was off work - hopefully - and would be allowed the grace to do nothing more than spend time with McKenna, and she was looking forward to it desperately. Raising a child was more work - and more rewarding - than Olivia had ever imagined, and she loved that little girl with all her heart, and all she ever wanted was more time with her. Lucky, then, that neither of them was able to die; they had all the time in the world.

"I like the new place," a voice echoed suddenly from her kitchen, and Olivia swore, drew her gun and dropped into a crouch, her heart in her throat. No one should have been there, Lucy would never let anyone in, and she certainly wouldn't do that without telling Olivia, and what if they wanted McKenna, what if they wanted to hurt her, what if -

"Jesus," she grumbled, holstering her gun as her intruder came striding into view.

"No," he told her cheerfully. "Just Gabriel. Seriously, though, this place is nice. Much nicer than your last apartment."

It was bigger, too, big enough for McKenna to have a bedroom of her very own.

"If you're just here to compliment my home decor choices -"

"I'm here to ask you a question," he said.

"Ask it, then."

"All right - what on earth is wrong with you?"

"Excuse me?" Olivia demanded, perplexed. Who'd ever heard of an angel speaking to someone this way? The tone to of his voice, the shine of his eyes; Gabriel looked frustrated with her, and she couldn't for the life of her understand why.

"I've met a lot of people in my time, angels, demons, humans, what have you -" that what have you was unsettling; what else was there? - "and you have to be the single most stubborn creature I've ever encountered. What's that about?"

"If you came here to talk about Elliot you can just go home," she told him grimly. "That's done."

She'd fucked it all up, telling Elliot the truth. Now that he knew about his past lives he thought she didn't really love him, not the him that he was now, and he'd turned his back on her, not that she could blame him. The way he'd reacted only reinforced her belief that she'd done the right thing; they were too different, the man and the nephilim, and they existed in different worlds, the reality of their lives too divergent for them to ever come together. It was over, she knew it was.

"Oh, no, little one," Gabriel said. "It's not done, not by half."

"Nothing's changed -"

"Everything has changed, and you know it. You can feel it, Olivia. Why haven't you used it yet?"

He looked curious, almost, like he was a scientist studying an especially fascinating specimen.

"Used what?" she snapped. Fucking angels, she thought, always riddles wrapped in riddles, pretending to offer help but just making matters more complicated.

"The - er - the little item you picked up from the pharmacy last week."

As she looked at him she felt the blood drain from her face; she'd forgotten, somehow, just how much Gabriel knew. Just how much he could see, just how impossible it was to hide anything from heaven.

"There's no point," she said. "It's not possible."

"Then why did you buy the test? Why go to the trouble, if you're so certain?"

Because she wasn't certain. Because she didn't want to be. Because she'd been throwing up every morning for the last few weeks and everything felt different and she wanted to hope, even if there was no reason to, even if there was no point. It felt nice, the hoping. She wasn't ready to be disappointed again.

"Everything has changed," Gabriel repeated. "You must know that, you must feel it. But you're not doing anything about it, and I just…for the first time in your whole life, the clock is ticking, Olivia. You're actually running out of time. Take the test."

"What's that mean?" she demanded. "Running out of time, what's that mean?"

"Take the test, and then we'll talk."

Am I really gonna do this? She asked herself. Was she really gonna entertain this insanity? It was not possible for nephilim to conceive. It had never happened, not once, in the history of the world. Nephilim were hybrid creatures who were never meant to exist in the first place, not human enough to bear children, not human enough to die. But there was an angel in her kitchen, smiling at her, glowing softly, telling her to trust, to believe, to hope, and he wouldn't have come, she thought, if he didn't know what he was doing. He wouldn't ask this of her if he didn't know the answer already.

Without a word she turned away from him, and walked slowly towards her bedroom. She stopped on the way, poked her head into McKenna's room and checked that the girl was sleeping soundly, and then she drifted through her bedroom to the en suite, to the plastic bag she'd tucked away in the cabinet and the little box nestled inside.

One pink line for no, two pink lines for yes; she read the instructions on the box, committed them to memory, and followed them perfectly, and then she sat herself down on the closed lid of the toilet, and buried her face in her hands.

It was all she'd ever wanted, really. A child, a family. Someone to love, a place to belong. She'd made that, with McKenna, the pair of them knitting together into something like a family, growing stronger every day. Fin knew already what McKenna was, had seen the wings himself when this whole thing had started, and he was like an uncle to the girl. Munch and Cragen, they would be, too, in time. It made Olivia happy, the connections they'd found, the life they were building. It was good. It was enough.

But she'd let Elliot hold her, and spared no thought for condoms or pulling out, and why should she, when she'd known it was only ever going to happen once, when she'd known she would never be able to conceive a child? One night, one beautiful night, one too-brief embrace, that was all she'd ever have of him, and she'd contented herself with that, grieved for him, missed him, but clung to the memory of how it'd felt, him moving inside her, his breath on her lips. It was enough.

Only now there was a test sitting on the bathroom sink, and an angel in her kitchen, and the promise of more hung in the air.

What if he's right? She asked herself. What would happen, if the test showed two pink lines? She'd have to tell Cragen, spent the next few months on desk duty. Talk to Lucy, find out how the girl felt about looking after two children, once Olivia was cleared to return. Find a bigger apartment, eventually. She'd have to decide on a name, and buy a bassinet, and she'd have to find some way to explain all this to McKenna, and…

And what? Call Elliot? Tell him she'd been wrong, when she told him she'd never get pregnant? How could he ever forgive her, after the way she'd hurt him, the way she'd walked away from him? He'd love the baby, she knew he would, but the man had five children already; how would he react to the thought of another? Would he want partial custody of his child, would they pass the baby back and forth every other weekend? It was a nightmare; it was a dream; it was both.

The minutes passed, very slowly, but eventually Olivia gave in and reached for the test.

Two pink lines.

Pregnant.

"That's not possible," she breathed.

"All things are possible to him that believes," Gabriel's voice called to her through the bathroom door delightedly. The motherfucker must have slipped in there while she was barricaded in the bathroom.

"Get in here," she barked, and the door opened in a moment, Gabriel standing just on the other side of it.

"Now do you believe me?" he asked.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"My goodness, do you always react to good news this way?"

"I swear to God -"

"No need for swearing. I'll tell you everything, little one." He stepped into the bathroom, perched himself on the ledge of the bathtub, and then he took her hand. His hands were warm and soft, and his eyes were kind.

"He knows all," Gabriel said. "He sees all. And he sees you, little one. You were right, about the injustice of the nephilim's fate. And even knowing that you were doomed, you were still willing to sacrifice your life to protect that little girl. You were willing to walk away from the man you loved to spare him more pain. You have been selfless, and you have been good, and He has seen it."

"I don't understand - "

"You can't change who you are, what you are or where you came from. But you chose who you wanted to be. You aligned yourself with the angels, when you could have far more easily turned your back. There is a place for you in heaven, now. For you, and all your brothers and sisters who are willing to make the same choice. For your little girl, one day, when she's ready. This gift He has granted to all the nephilim. But to you He has given a special gift. A new life."

This can't be happening. It was everything she'd ever wanted, and the joy that swelled within her heart was deep and vast, wide as an ocean, but Elliot was not there to share in her joy. Elliot was lost to her -

"And He knows how stubborn you are," Gabriel continued. "So I'm afraid your gift comes with a catch."

Of course it does, she thought moodily.

"You will die, Olivia. Even now you are aging, becoming more human than you have ever been. Your days on earth are numbered. Just like your man's. You ran from him because you did not want to live through all the ages of the earth without him. And now you won't."

The expression on his face; he was looking at her like he thought that was the most delightful news. Maybe it was. He'd just confirmed that she was expecting a baby, that she would eventually be welcomed into heaven, but he'd just told her she was going to die, too. It was a lot of information to process all at once. Maybe too much.

"Will you say something?" he asked her.

"I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do."

I don't know how to feel. A mortal life, an end to the infinite cycle of grief and pain, that wasn't so bad. But a mortal life meant she would not be able to walk by McKenna's side forever, would not always be there to guide and comfort her children. She would have to leave them behind, and step into the unknown, into a realm no nephilim had ventured to before. And Elliot…what if it really was too late? What if he never forgave her? What if her remaining years on earth were spent mourning for a man who lived, but hated her?

"You're spiraling," Gabriel said drily. "I can see it in your eyes. The panic."

"Of course I'm panicking, what did you expect me to-"

"No, this is more or less what I expected," he said. "I'd like to make a suggestion, if I may."

She shot him a dark look, a look he chose to ignore.

"You can sit here asking yourself all these questions with no way to answer them and make yourself sick with worry, or you can just go talk to him yourself. You don't know how he'll react? Tell him, and find out."

"It's late," she protested feebly. "I can't leave McKenna-"

"I'll look after her."

An angel for a babysitter; this night kept getting weirder and weirder.

"She's the daughter of an angel. That makes her my niece, I suppose. That makes her family. She'll be safe with me. And you have an errand to run. Go to him, little one. Go to him, and tell him you love him. Trust that love. Let it guide you. It is a gift, to love, to be loved. Accept it, for once in your life."

It was a strange thing, knowing that she was going to die. Even if she didn't know when, or how, she knew that she could now, and the awareness of that death, the knowledge that the life she led would end, suddenly colored every thought in her head. There would be no next time for her and Elliot. There would be no second chance to get it right. There would be only this, this one fragile, fleeting life. If she wanted him, she would have to reach for him now, or lose him forever. One chance. One life.

"Go," Gabriel urged her gently.

Olivia leaned forward suddenly, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Oh!" he cried, surprised, blushing.

"I think I hate you, just a little," she said. "But right now I think I love you more."

"Well, I - " he stammered, flustered, apparently, by her all-too-human display of affection.

"I'll be back," she said. "Take care of my daughter."

"I will," he promised.

And then Olivia drew in a very deep breath, squared her shoulders, and marched out of the bathroom, out into the night, towards Elliot, the love of her one life, the father of her unborn baby, the only man she'd ever really wanted, the only one she was ever going to want.

Here's hoping, she thought. What a beautiful, terrible thing; hope. She would live in hope, for now. At least until she saw his face.