Nights as such are the worst, Raphael thinks to himself. There is nothing unusual about them but rather where his thoughts wander. It has been a while since these ones decided to bother him in his sleep, the subject, however, always stays the same. Penryn. He has dreamt of her almost every week for the last 50 years, as humans would count it. He usually likes seeing her, even if it is in his head, even if it is brief. In his dreams they usually just talk, he likes to imagine what her life must look like or what could have been if he stayed. Lately, the moments they shared in his head have been becoming shorter with each passing month as her face, a fragile memory, becomes blurrier than anything else.

Tonight, Raphael dreamt of her again, this time she was visibly older, married and with almost grown-up kids. He remembers thinking she would be a great mother, considering how caring and loving she was, especially with her sister. He just hated knowing her kids would never be his and it was not any different right now. The worst part, she was not happy for a single moment in this life and blamed it on him. She never gave up on the idea of him coming back to her, waited for a long time but eventually moved on. Loneliness is the worst of feelings one can feel, and Raphael knows it all too well.

Waking up, the angel headed straight to his desk and grabbed the first drink his hands could reach. He looked at the invitation lying open on the table and sighted. He knows that it was what probably caused him to have this dream tonight. An anniversary for the end of the War. In California, where everything went down. This is a bad idea.

As he flies with the Watchers, all Raphael wants is to turn around. He even said that before they left their home but Howler managed to smack some sense back into him. They must be there to make sure the peace is as strong as ever. It is a diplomatic game. The angel realm has been in danger of annihilation by rebels for some time now and the only place they could go to if everything went to shit is the Earth. So, he keeps on flying. He has sent people there before but never dared to come back himself. He trusted the watchers or his advisors to negotiate and work together on rebuilding the human world.

Days later the entire flock lands by the hotel in San Francisco. The city has changed a lot since the last time they saw it. Back then they left with a sight of rubble all around and now it is as populated as it was before the angels settled on Earth. Raphael is greeted by Council member who assigned this place for them to stay at. It looks as luxurious as the hotels angels used to stay during the attacks. At least they know how to welcome the Messenger.

Raphael can see some of his companions already eyeing girls they passed by. He involuntary rolls his own eyes, a mannerism he sure as hell picked up from her. His thoughts sober but he does not intend to stay in this state for the evening. Raphael asks the man guiding them to their rooms for drinks.

"There is a great selection of liquids in your chambers already." Responds the servant and Raphael rushes in.

A few hours pass by in solitude before a knock on his door pulls him out of his trance. The angel takes his eyes off the black suit lying neatly on bed, waiting for him to put it on.

"Open..." He whispers.

Hawk, already dressed in his best attire, swings the door open and gives Raphael an understanding look when he sees two bottles of rum empty on the floor and a full glass in his firm grip. He is worried but does not show it.

"Whoa...maybe take it slowly," Thermo warns him half-jokingly. "We still got to make it to the Gala."

Raphael does not say anything back, simply finishes his last drink and goes to the bathroom to put that stupid suit on. The last time he wore one, he had demon wings on him. That time, he found out she was alive, and he got his hopes back up for whatever it was worth. That last time, he got to take it off with her by his side. He fixes his already perfect hair and looks at himself. He wants to smash this damn mirror but decides against it.

He can do it. It is only one night, and she may not even be there knowing she avoided all the meetings that Watchers attended in the past. Despite that, he hopes her to come.

Raphael is not sure if it is loud music or the alcohol already in his system that irritates him that much. He walks around the newly built Palace shaking hands with councilors. He has never met most of them as the Resistance members who became the First Council either died or retired some time ago. His heart aches. Here, time is an awfully cruel thing.

Trying to distract himself from the whispers he catches here and there while walking around the hall, Raphael grabs some more to drink from the waiters. It does not help. He hears people talking about her, her possible appearance here tonight. Somehow, it makes him both sick and excited. It does not help that he sees her in every passing young brunette wearing a red dress and hopes it is her. He knows it is not possible, so he turns around and starts walking towards the exit.

"I have to introduce you to one other of our members, the candidate for the president's position, Your Grace," says the current leader of the Human race as he basically drags the woman his way. "Paige Young."

Raphael stops breathing as he quickly looks Paige up and down. He notices faint scar lines all across her neck, arms, and face. Her eyes are just as wide as his as she takes him in, she recognizes him as soon as they face each other. Though, she adjusts to the situation rather fast and holds her hand for him to shake, and invites him for a glass of whiskey.

"I assumed someone like you would try to stay away from dealing with angels, opposite of what you are up to," says Raphael as he sits down at the table a bit further from the epicenter of this ball.

"Someone like me?" Paige laughs out.

Raphael, confused, starts trying to defuse the situation but by how she waves his words away with her hands it seems like she was just messing around.

"It's fine, I understood what you meant by that...I suppose I... I just wanted to make sure it never happens again, to anyone." Her eyes surrounded by wrinkles focus on the drink and then on the angel.

He understands and nods. There is not much to say really. What surprises him though is that she thanked him.

"For what?" Raphael is convinced there is nothing she should be thanking him for. Quite the opposite.

"Well, God knows where we would be if you had not been there. So, for keeping her alive and bringing her to me, I guess," she takes her last sip and encourages him to finish his drink too. "You will need it. There is still a lot to be done."

She pats him on the shoulder and is about to leave when he asks.

"Is she here?"

He can hear her sigh and move uncomfortably, with that the noise outside suddenly becomes more apparent.

"Well, she is now."