The descend was longer than he had presumed. How long had it been since he last saw the stars? The nebulas? The constellations he was so proud of creating? How long since he last felt gleeful and holy?

He closed his eyes and grabbed onto his chest where he could still feel the phantom hand, the sacred hand, that had pushed him. He didn't deserve it, the push, he thought. If need be he was ready to go willingly. There was no need for the humiliation. That push was made for a good laugh, it must've been, otherwise why do such an act.

Did he regret it? He pondered.

Regret being able to create something wonderful. Regret feeling that constant content feeling since his own creation. Regret everything he was hoping for. Regret asking all those questions. He should have, he smirked as it was the cause of his condemned outcome.

Slowly, he opened his eyes to a changing scenery where gone was anything and everything he was used to. He felt as if he had fallen into an oubliette; no end in sight, only darkness. Meanwhile, he began to pick at his skin as it began to feel hot and intolerable. It was a new sensation; he did not even know the word for it. Moments would go by until he understoodpainwas the word for what he was going through.

The lower he fell, the less worthy he felt. The more pain he felt. The hotter it became. "Please." He blinked his tears away, tears he was not aware had come to be.

It was unbearable. The push, the regrets, the darkness, the pain…the heat.

He let out a small gasp as he noticed his pristine wings blending into the darkness. He thrashed, wanting nothing to do with the transpiring result; however, just before the heat consumed him, before he felt completely hopeless and unwanted, a small light invaded the darkness. Heat turned into warmth as the feeling of pain turned into something lively.

He blinked and blinked until a dimmed light made itself known. He felt soft hands on his cheek, wiping away his lament. His mouth felt dry as he looked up and met soft eyes. "You're having a nightmare, my dear." His forehead was kissed. "It's alright. I'm here."

"Angel?" He sounded hoarse.

The angel smiled down upon him with an adoring expression. "You'll be alright." He pulled him in closer. "I'm here. I will always be here."

He sniffed and buried himself into the angel's comfort. "Don't…leave me." He shuddered at the thought.

"Would not dare think of it."

He didn't know when it happened but one minute all he could hear was the ticking of a clock, and words of affirmation, the next, he was in that one bookshop in Soho. That one place where he could feel solace, not solely because of the atmosphere, but because of a nonjudgmental angel who he had come to love and who had loved him in return, questions and all.

Did he regret it? He pondered once more as he smiled at his angel who was far too busy informing him of his day. If being pushed meant meeting his light, his comfort, his purpose, his love, he would gladly fall a million times again.


The angel looked down at a now sleeping demon on his chest. He ran gentle fingers through the demon's red locks while his other hand sought out his hand. He entwined his fingers with the demon's left hand, and brought his knuckles to his lips. "I love you, Crowley." He kissed the small silver band on the demon's ring finger and continued to hush his husband's once upon a time aching memories.