AN: the story name comes from Sailor Song by Gigi Perez

It had been exactly one year, two months, and twenty-three days since Lucifer and his angels had revolted and started a war against Heaven. Both sides were in shambles and casualties were high. In an attempt to regain the upper hand, Lucifer had sent out a group of skilled soldiers with Dagon leading them to raid a nearby camp and hopefully gain knowledge of Heaven's plans. Suffice to say it hadn't gone well.

Dagon clutched at her side and ducked behind a large piece of rubble. Clenching her teeth against the burning pain in her side from where she had been cut by a holy blade, the demoness looked over the debris to scour the area for any signs of her lost group. Dagon's troop had been ambushed just outside of the camp they were supposed to raid and as far as she knew, she was the only survivor. And whether or not others had made it, she was definitely the only one who had any chance of getting out there intact.

As blood so dark in color it was nearly black coated her hand, spots blurred her vision and that fact became debatable. The holy wound right below her ribs sent waves of agony through Dagon. Causing her to bite her tongue to avoid crying out and calling attention to herself. Dagon was going to die there, pathetic and alone. She bit back a scream when a piece of the debris she was leaning against crumbled off and hit her open wound, adding dirt to the spreading burgundy stain on her side.

Dagon could do nothing but sit there, having lost the energy to move a while ago. As consciousness slowly left her, she could hear footsteps growing closer. Had Dagon missed somebody when she checked for her comrades? She didn't think so but it's not like she was in the best condition for being thorough. Dagon cursed under her breath, the words being cut off by a weak cough that brought the metallic taste of blood to her mouth.

The footsteps grew closer until Dagon saw a familiar brunette standing above her, before she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore and fell into inviting darkness.

…

Pain ripped through Dagon's side. The sudden agony was presumably what had brought her back to consciousness and the demon gasped, curling up into a ball on a damp stone floor. It felt like she was being stabbed by a molten hot knife repeatedly and she gritted her teeth to stop from crying.

Dagon cursed her own stupidity. Getting cut by a holy blade was one of the most painful things she had ever experienced, second only to falling; and it could have been avoided if she had just moved half an inch to the right.

As Dagon began to become aware of her surroundings, she realized she was no longer on the battlefield and instead seemed to be in some sort of cave. The realization hit her like a hammer and Dagon attempted to scramble to her feet, only for the searing pain in her side to quickly put an end to that. No longer able to hold back a yelp, she cried out in pain. The noise swiftly swallowed by the empty darkness around her. But then a noise behind her made Dagon aware of the fact that the cave was not actually empty at all.

"The cut isn't too deep; it only needed a few stitches. It was a holy blade so that's most likely why it hurts so much. Though I don't have much experience with holy wounds of course, so I can't be certain." A hesitant voice sounded behind her. Dagon knew that voice and her unnecessary breath caught in her throat. No, now was not the time for grief or regret.

"What the Heaven is going on, Michael?" Dagon asked through clenched teeth, pushing the feelings to the back of her mind and yelping again when another wave of pain hit her. It felt like her blessed insides were on fire.

"I saw you were wounded and helped you," the angel answered with feigned confidence. Dagon snorted.

"I didn't realize you were in the business of helping the enemy," She bit out, struggling to a sitting up position so her back was leaning against one of the damp cave walls.

"Would you prefer it if I had left you there to die?" Michael retorted, her words said without conviction.

"I'd prefer if you hadn't kidnapped me off of the battlefield, do you have any idea how much shit I'm gonna have to pull when I get back so that Lucifer doesn't think I abandoned my post and troops?" Dagon remarked, snarling.

"From my understanding, you're high enough rank that he shouldn't need much convincing. You earned your position for a reason," Michael responded. "That is unless Hell just gives the highest ranks to whomever is most incompetent." Dagon rolled her eyes.

"Fuck you, Michael," Dagon growled, glaring at the being in front of her. How was it even possible to be so blessed annoying?

"You're being immature," She commented, Michael's uncertainty swiftly replaced with annoyance. Good to know Michael still adapted to new situations just as quickly as before. She hadn't changed very much at all actually. Still the same brunette hair and easy to annoy attitude. Still the same frown and small satisfied smile whenever she said something she thought was particularly clever. Still the same pride that was very un-angelic. Yes, Michael was still the same angel Dagon had known since before time and that just made hating her even harder. Dagon quickly stuffed the fondness to the back of her mind and tried to forget every reason why she had ever liked the angel. Easier said than done.

"And you're committing treason, what's your point?" Dagon replied, a slight bite to her words.

"Just allow me to help you!" Michael exclaimed, frustration and desperation apparent in her voice.

Dagon scoffed, "Why should I?" she asked incredulously, all other emotions quickly replaced by building anger. That was good. Anger was safer. Dagon knew what to do with rage, she didn't know what to do with all that other shit that was gnawing at her. "You helped cast me and the others out of Heaven without so much as batting an eye. You watched me Fall and did nothing. You looked me dead in the eyes as I Fell from Heaven and did nothing!" Dagon paused, unwanted emotion reappearing and choking her words. They had been close before the Fall, really, really close. And then Michael had just watched as she and the others were cast out. She didn't even try to say goodbye or argue Dagon's innocence. And now she had the audacity to try and help her like nothing had happened? The nerve.

"And now you've decided to help me?" Dagon voiced her thoughts bitterly. "Well, I have some news for you. Your too fucking late! If you wanted to help you could have not ordered your troops to ambush my soldiers. You could have not given your army the order to kill on sight. You could have not let me fucking Fall without trying to do anything!" Dagon growled, angry tears springing to her eyes which she quickly blinked back.

She loathed this kind of rage that was so complete and overwhelming that tears would overflow from her eyes. She thrived on controlled rage. The kind Dagon could use to her advantage. Not the weakness and vulnerability that came from the overpowering anger that she couldn't use. The kind that made her break.

"There wasn't anything I could do!" Michael exclaimed, clearly distressed and startled by Dagon's outburst. Dagon nearly laughed at the others' surprise. Michael might not have changed much, but Dagon sure had. You had to be ruthless and clever to survive in Hell after all. "You sided with Lucifer! You were guilty! I couldn't change that with a few clever words!" Michael finished, dismayed.

"But you could have at least tried!" Dagon shot back.

"You're right. I could have," Michael's tone was still desperate, but more defensive now. "But all that would have done is cause me to join you in Hell!"

"You don't know that!"

"I do!"

"So talking back is a sin now?" Dagon retorted, snarling.

"Defending a demon is!"

"But helping one is a-okay?"

Michael groaned out of frustration, running her hand through her hair. "Why must you be so infuriating?"

"It's just my natural charm," Dagon replied, baring her teeth at the holier-than-thou-asshole.

"Ah yes, so charming." Michael growled, pacing back and forth in the small cave. Dagon began struggling to her feet, wincing and closing her eyes against the searing pain in her side. To Dagon's surprise Michael cursed under her breath. "Don't attempt to get up, you'll only injure yourself further."

"When did you start being so concerned about my well being?" Dagon bit out, holding back pained tears and clutching her injured side. Michael didn't answer and instead walked towards the entrance of the cave. Dagon hated herself when her heart plummeted, for a moment believing that Michael would leave and loathing how distressing that thought was.

"I'm going to keep watch for any signs of your or my troops," Michael explained, clearly noticing the panic Dagon forgot to hide. "I'll be back to change your bandages in a bit," Michael stated before promptly disappearing into the outside world, leaving Dagon alone in the suddenly very empty cave.

…

Michael returned around an hour later to change the bloodied bandages on Dagon's side as promised before leaving again and returning with supplies to light a fire and a suspicious coating of blood. Dagon opened her mouth to question what had happened, but Michael shut her up with a death glare and a few very un-angelic words. Dagon concluded it was best not to ask again. Besides, Michael had already left again to do Satan knows what and Dagon didn't feel like chasing her down. Not that Dagon could even if she wanted to in her current state.

…

The sun set outside and the small cave was now lit and warmed by a small fire. The smoke miraculously disappearing whenever it collected too thickly in the cave. It had been three days since Michael had found Dagon injured and the two hadn't spoken much since the first day. Though they both seemed to begin to become more comfortable with the other's company as time went on. The two immortal beings sat in silence by the blaze, neither wanting to break the semi-comfortable silence they found themselves in. It carried on like that for quite some time before Dagon finally spoke.

"Why did you save me?" she asked quietly, hating the way she waited with baited breath for the answer and hating the way she seemed to still care so much about this worthless angel. Michael was quiet for a while, thinking over her response and trying desperately to come up with an answer other than 'because against my better judgment I still care about you an insanely foolish amount that will most definitely end with me Falling and for some unfathomable reason I would gladly Fall if it meant proving to you I care'.

"I…I'm not certain," Michael said instead. Dagon snorted and sat up then winced, one hand falling to her wounded side.

"You're 'not certain'?" Dagon scoffed. "That's not a good enough answer."

"What would you like me to say?" Michael asked, exasperatedly. "That I couldn't bear to see you injured and jumped at the chance to prove to you that I still care?" Michael clamped her mouth shut before she could say anything more damning.

"Yes, actually." Dagon said, her heart beginning to race. she looked over the fire, staring intensely at Michael. Michael swallowed dryly, looking away from Dagon.

"I…uhhh, well I'm not going to say that. I'm not sure why I helped you but it most definitely wasn't because of that." Dagon raised an eyebrow at the clear falsehood.

"I thought angels weren't supposed to lie." Michael glared at her and didn't respond, not wanting to dig herself any deeper into the whole she had buried herself in. So many different emotions flitted across Michael's face in the few moments the two were silent that

Dagon couldn't count them all before she finally broke the tense silence.

"I-I'm going back out to keep watch," she hurriedly stated, retrieving her sword from the rough stone next to her and getting to her feet before leaving without giving Dagon any time to respond. Dagon was left dumbfounded, uncertain which made it more obvious that Michael was hiding something. That fact that she had very literally got up and ran away or the fact that she looked so surprised with herself that Dagon wouldn't have batted an eye if Michael claimed that she had just seen the true form of God.

"I guess I'll just go to sleep then," Dagon muttered to herself, putting out the fire and lying on her back. Careful not to bump her wounded side against the cave wall she had been previously leaning on. Angels and demons didn't need to sleep, but it was a habit she had picked up after she Fell. Whenever someone questioned her she just defended herself saying it was sloth and all very sinful and they could fuck off. The other demons normally didn't question her further. Whether it was due to her high rank or her argument she couldn't be certain. Either way, it made them leave her alone.

Dagon could hear Michael pacing outside the cave. The sound of another being was oddly soothing and she was quickly lost to sleep.

…

Fire consumed her once white wings as she Fell. Searing agony ripping through Dagon as her angelic grace was burned away. It was pain like she had never felt before. The fire engulfed her in a seemingly endless inferno. Screams were ripped from her throat as she Fell. Her own pain reflected in the helpless cries of the other fallen around her before being cut off as they began to plunge into boiling sulfur. The sulfur coated and charred her skin. Dagon almost wished she had stayed on fire.

As she dragged herself out of the building sulfur and onto solid ground, the pain cries of those less fortunate sounded around her. Some too weak to pull themselves out simply sunk and boiled and burned. Others turned to ashes from the all consuming fire before they could even reach the boiling lake. Dagon just laid there; wounded and weak and so, so betrayed.

…

Dagon jolted awake to Michael kneeling next to her, seemingly having no clue what to do. Her hands hovering uselessly above Dagon as if she had begun to reach out and frozen. Dagon scrambled back until she pressed against one of the cool cave walls. She sat there silently shaking as the memories of her nightmare slowly faded. She weakly cursed herself for being so stupid, but was so tired and scared that she couldn't bring herself to fully care.

"I..heard you yelling, and came to check on you," Michael hastily stated, seemingly feeling the need to explain why she was there sitting next to Dagon and not doing anything."I wasn't quite sure what I should do…" she trailed off when Dagon didn't respond, looking lost. Dagon knew how fucking weak she must look and tried to hold her breath to prevent the painful rapid rising and falling of her chest that jarred her injury; sending fresh waves of agony through her being. "Bad dream?" Michael asked, hesitant again for the first time in a while. The question seemed so normal and caring that Dagon almost laughed. An angel trying to comfort a demon after a blessed nightmare? Unheard of. Not that anything that had happened in the last few days was common.

"You could say that," Dagon breathed, her voice shaky. She felt so vulnerable and hated herself for it. Hated everything for it.

"May I ask what it was about?" Michael asked. Dagon sucked in a quick breath that didn't help the pain in her side. This was the most casual conversation they had had since the Fall. It felt so normal and kind. Almost like if Dagon closed her eyes she could pretend the Fall had never happened and everything was fine and back to the way it had once been. She knew she shouldn't be so scared to ruin the moment. Shouldn't care what Michael thought or did. Shouldn't care if Michael still cared about her. She should be furious and feel betrayed. And Dagon did, Satan knew she did, but for some fucking stupid reason she still cared about Michael and couldn't bring herself to be furious right now. Right now she just wanted to talk like the fall had never happened and like they were still laughing together. Carefree and unburdened by the past.

"Yeah, just-just about the Fall." Dagon replied, still shaking slightly and stuttering.

"Was-was it painful?" Michael inquired, abnormally timid. Dagon raised an eyebrow, still breathing hard. "Sorry, that was an awful question." Had she really just apologized to Dagon? Had she hit her head or something on the battlefield before Michael had found her? Or, could Michael actually care about her?

"No, no, it's fine. Yeah, ummm, yeah it hurt," Dagon cringed at how much she was stuttering. She really needed to stop doing that.

"What was it like?" Michael asked, encouraged by the lack of yelling and anger.

"Well, boiling sulfur doesn't tend to be fun so it wasn't great." Michael suddenly looked guilty and grimaced.

"I'm sorry." Dagon gave her a quizzical look and she quickly added, "For letting you Fall. That sounds terrible. And it's my fault you had to go through that! I should have said something, I should have done something! I-"

"It's-it'll be okay," Dagon cut off the increasingly irrationally distressed angel. Dagon hadn't expected Michael to be more distressed then she was by hearing about her Fall. "I…" Dagon trailed off for a moment, unsure of how to continue without going into the details of the betrayal and inevitably becoming upset again. The wound was too fresh to talk about it without ending in an argument just yet. "We'll never be the way we were," she continued finally. "But the war will end eventually and I don't know what will happen then, but it has to be better than this slaughter. And maybe then we can be…something. In secret of course," Dagon added quickly. She wasn't enough of a fool to think that they could ever be friends without fear again. But they could still talk to each other if they were cautious about it and as time went on, the betrayal would become less fresh and forgiveness might become more of a possibility. And as Michael's hand brushed against her own in the darkness and blush creeped up both their cheeks, Dagon knew for certain her earlier statement was true. Things would never be the way they had been. Maybe they would be better. But Dagon wasn't ready for that just yet and neither was Michael, so for now Dagon just held Michael's hand in her own and leaned against the cave wall. More hopeful than she had been in a long time.

Michael didn't seem certain but nodded, silently leaning back against the cold stone of the cave wall and closing her eyes. Hand still in Dagon's, she fell asleep with Dagon falling asleep soon after.

…

A week later Dagon's wound was mostly healed (with help from a few irresponsible miracles) and they returned to their respective camps. Dagon claimed her absence was due to being captured in the ambush that her soldiers had died in and then escaping and that the angels must not have killed her because they thought they could use her high rank as leverage in negotiations later on. Michael claimed the same thing. Both sides believed them and their lives returned to normal, or as normal as life can be in the middle of a war. But with the promise of hope and all the terrifying and thrilling implications of their traitorous yet somehow perfect encounter, both Dagon and Michael believed that, with time, it might actually be okay for once.