by Maya Nicole
Then the missing memories come back.
Which is why I drink like a fish and fuck like a rabbit.
I looked over at Toby, who after sucker punching me in the fucking jaw, poured himself a whiskey without asking, and joined me on the large sectional sofa. I hadn't seen him in ten or so years and the first thing he does is punch me and steal my alcohol.
I really couldn't blame him for punching me though. I would have done worse, but I'm a dick. Tobias Morgan is not. He is a saint, well except for the student he seems to be sleeping with.
We fought together in WWII. He was like an older brother to me, taking me under his hypothetical, but now literal, wing. We survived D-Day, liberated towns, and died during the Battle of the Bulge.
It was cold that day, snow blanketing the ground when the Germans closed in on us. I don't even remember the exact date, not sure I even knew then what day of the week it was. Hell, it might have even been Christmas. We were well into the Battle of the Bulge though, and losing. At least we won the war. Well the other soldiers. Toby and I died.
I stared down into my whiskey glass, Toby's presence bringing me back to that particular day.
"We're going to die Toby. I don't want to fucking die." I was sniveling like a pansy ass as debris, gunfire, and explosions rained down on our platoon.
"Shut up, we'll be fine. We've lasted this long." Tobias climbed back up the side of the bank and fired his gun. The sound was deafening. "Fuck."
I took his place as he reloaded his gun. This had been going on for what felt like hours, but was probably more like ten minutes. He'd shoot. I'd reload. I'd shoot. He'd reload. On and on it went. They kept advancing. My hands were numb, my shoulder throbbed, but on we went.
We had to. You don't watch most of your platoon die and just give up. We'd fight for them, for what they had lost.
I was out of ammo again and Toby went right back to his spot. I was just about done reloading when my body was thrown across the shallow agricultural trench we were using as a foxhole of sorts. It wasn't doing that good of a job, clearly.
My ears rang, my eyes burned, a blinding flash of pain careened down my back.
I told him we were going to die today. He didn't believe me.
A heavy weight landed on me and jerked several times before falling still.
I pried my eyes open and Toby stared back at me with wide, glassy eyes. Vacant eyes. Eyes I was too familiar with seeing. Another one of my brothers taken. I pushed at him, his body heavy.
"Toby?" I felt his hot blood seeping through my jacket and shirt. So much blood. Too much blood.
I needed to move. If the Germans decided to search the carnage, they'd take me. I didn't have it in me to be a prisoner. I struggled under Toby's weight, but I couldn't move my legs.
I stopped struggling and stared up at the gray sky. It would snow soon.
A hand was placed on my shoulder and I jerked back to reality, sloshing the amber liquid in my glass onto my hand. Fucking idiot would know not to touch me if he had the memories of that shit storm. Lucky bastard.
PTSD was a mother fucking bitch and I couldn't even get help because who the fuck is going to believe that a mid-twenties looking man fought in WWII? Yeah. Exactly. No to the fucking one.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have-" He realized his errors a little too late.
"You're right, you shouldn't have." I leaned forward and set my glass on the coffee table before wiping my shaking wet hand on my jeans. "So you and Lucifer's daughter... interesting."
He made a grunting noise in reply and took a drink from his glass. He was still sitting next to me, he must have moved when I zoned out, a mere inch from my leg. I could have strangled his ass. I shifted farther from him.
I looked over my shoulder at her sleeping on my bed, her body curled around one of my pillows. What would it be like to lay next to her and have her curl around me like that? Probably a really fucking bad idea is what it would be.
I looked over at my former best friend, my brother in arms. He was still rocking his beard, close shaven and neat. I hadn't known him before the war, but from the pictures he had shown me from before our time deployed together, he hadn't changed at all.
I, on the other hand, probably looked like a drunken vagrant. I used to be a handsome, strapping young fellow with hair like Cary Grant. The ladies loved me. Come to think of it, the ladies still loved me, and I still loved them. They just couldn't handle that I was completely fucking broken.
"You aren't worried they are going to take your wings? Banging a student has to be against some kind of rule."
"She's eighteen. We're both consenting adults, it doesn't matter if I'm a teacher or not." His words didn't hold any conviction and fell flat. He must lay up at night convincing himself of those things.
I snorted back a laugh. "Keep telling yourself that. Trust me, you do not want to fall."
The worst part of falling wasn't losing use of the wings or any special abilities, it was the sudden bombardment of the memories and complete and utter isolation. Most didn't survive beyond the first few weeks, but those of us that did, we were broken.
That's probably why the Fallen were trying to kidnap angels. I didn't even want to think about why they were kidnapping angels or what they were doing to them. I had stopped two abductions now and they had probably gotten away with several.
"I think it'd take a lot more than a relationship with a student to lose my wings. Don't you?"
"Just don't murder anyone you aren't supposed to and you'll be fine."
Killing as an angel was strictly forbidden. When we were given an assignment to help a human, it didn't mean taking the law into our own hands. Which is exactly what I did. I was supposed to help a woman flee, not kill her husband even if he had beaten her black and blue.
"You've tried appealing?" Tobias finally looked at me. He had been avoiding looking at me, probably because he felt pity. He sure as hell didn't feel guilty.
When I first fell he came to see me. To check on me. That didn't go so well. Hence, why we hadn't seen each other in ten years.
"I gave up after the second appeal." I shrugged. "It is what it is. I'm getting things on track."
A comfortable silence fell over the room, the only sounds were the sips he was taking of his drink. I considered turning on the TV because I certainly wasn't going to be able to sleep now, but then he had to go and open his big ass mouth again.
I had known the moment would come eventually. Ten years ago when I fell, he hadn't dared ask, especially as I tore up a motel room in a blinding rage.
"What happened?"
He didn't even have to elaborate. I knew exactly what he was asking. I stood and walked over to the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat half empty on the counter. I sat back down in the crook of the sectional sofa, facing him, leg bent in front of me to give me a barrier. I'd kick his ass if he tried to touch me again. He reached over with his glass and I filled it back up.
"Do you want to know how you died or how I died?" I lifted the bottle to my lips and took a long swig. It burned more than usual tonight.
"Me."
I described the day to him, not leaving out any detail. The day was always vivid in my mind, even after all this time. Vivid down to what we had eaten. What wasn't vivid was what I had eaten for breakfast that current morning. It's funny what the brain holds onto.
"Your body landed on mine. You died pretty instantly, lots of blood. I'm not sure if you landed on me because something threw your body at me or if you dove on top of me. Only you'd know that answer."
He ran his hand through his hair and we both took a drink at the same time.
"And you?"
I let out a pained laugh. "I wasn't as lucky as you were. I couldn't move from the waist down, so I was stuck there under you. It didn't exactly hurt, I was in shock that it was even happening. The pain only started when the snow started falling."
"Fuck."
"Yeah." I took another swig of whiskey a
nd then put the cap back on. "I blamed you for a while."
"For what?" He seemed confused.
"For landing on me. I don't know what I would have done if I had gotten out from under you though. Probably would have been tortured by Krauts."
"It makes no sense." He wiped at his eyes as if he was about to shed some tears. He always was a sensitive bastard.
"What doesn't? It was war."
"I meant that it makes no sense to me that when an angel falls, something so traumatic and painful is given back to them."
"Maybe they figure it's better than sending us straight to hell. I can tell you it's probably not." As I spoke, I looked back over at Danica. I was still trying to wrap my head around that one.
"She's not... evil," he said softly.
"I didn't think she was. Lucifer is Fallen, right? He didn't have his death to torment him, that's probably why they stuck him for an eternity in hell. She didn't grow up in hell did she?"
"Not literal hell. Her mom died when she was born and her dad could only be around so much. She got kicked out of high school."
I looked back over at her, feeling drawn to her. To make sure she was safe. I felt the tight muscles in my jaw relax and I let out a sigh.
"You feel it too, don't you?" Toby looked at me with a slight narrowing of his eyes, more of a thoughtful narrowing, as if he was running through some things in his head. Not a narrowing like he was going to punch me again.
I knew exactly what he was talking about. It was what she had described when she told me what she thought sensing other angels was like. Tingly and almost giddy, and I never felt giddy.
"Yes. What is it?"
I didn't know whether to be concerned with it or accept it as normal. I should probably be concerned. Even when I was an angel I had felt detached from everyone, missing my old life. My wife. My family. But around her I felt connected. They needed to seriously invest in training angel therapists.
"I'm not sure. There's someone else too, but she doesn't seem to be aware of it yet." He sounded jealous, but also angry. Before I could ask him why he continued. "He bullies her. Him and his cronies."
"Why haven't you kicked his ass? If I could come to campus, I'd do it. Not like I have anything left to lose."
He rolled his eyes at me and I felt a warmness spread in my chest. This was familiar. Normal. How we used to be.
"He's an archangel. They sent him to us hoping we could acclimate him to how the world works, plus he was causing problems. I guess creating an archangel at the height of human times backfired a bit. I see the way he looks at her, yet he does stupid shit to her with his friends. Honestly I don't even know he realizes what he's doing, he just follows the other Divine like a lost puppy. And she just takes it and gives it back to them. She's strong Asher, stronger than I think she even knows." A dreamy look crossed his eyes but then he seemed to snap out of it and yawned.
"Why don't you go to bed." I grabbed my headphones off the table and turned them on, the Bluetooth connecting to my phone. Music helped me sleep. It was the only way I could sleep, actually.
"You going to be all right?"
"I'm not sure my jaw will ever be the same again, but I'll be fine brother, go lay next to your woman."
It took me a long time to fall asleep and at best I got three hours. Worse than usual, but at least not as bad as not being able to sleep for three days straight. That had fucking sucked.
The large metal barn door leading to the bathroom slid open and Danica walked out, looking much better than she had the night before. I had given her a shirt and a pair of sweats with an elastic and drawstring waist to wear after she showered. Her damp hair was gathered around one of her shoulders, making the dark fabric of the shirt even darker.
She looked stunning. Partly because she had my clothes on and there was something sexy about seeing a woman wearing my clothes. I turned away to not appear like I was gawking and filled my coffee maker up. I was probably going to drink a whole pot of it just to counteract all the whiskey I drank the night before.
"Where's Tobias?" Her voice was stronger today, less scratchy.
"He went to grab food. How do you like your coffee?" I grabbed a second mug from the open metal shelf and went to grab the carafe but stopped when I saw the scrunched-up face she was sporting.
"Poured down the drain. You don't by a slim chance have any Diet Dr. Pepper?"
Now I scrunched up my face. Gross. "You fucking drink that shit? And here I thought we were soul mates. I have orange juice, water, and liquor. Unfortunately I'm out of beer."
"You sure do have a dirty mouth."
I raised my eyebrows. This was really the first real conversation I was having with her, last night she was solely focused on her almost-abduction by three now-dead Fallen. I wasn't sure if her words meant she was appalled by my sailor's tongue or if she was poking fun at me.
I decided to test the boundaries a little. "Maybe I should show you just how dirty it can be." I licked my bottom lip for affect.
Her face turned pink and then sat down on a stool around my stainless-steel bar-height table. "This is a cool place. Where are we, in an old warehouse?"
I took a drink of my black coffee and leaned against the counter. "It's an abandoned factory. There are two units downstairs I restored too that have tenants. I have an industrial chic remodeling business." I looked around at the large open room. It had taken me several years to finish all the work myself, but it was a good distraction and got out some of my rage. Using my hands to tear down and then restore something helped keep my broken pieces from falling over the place.
"Construction by day, vigilante by night?"
"Something like that."
The recent influx of Fallen encounters were concerning to say the least. We were a reclusive bunch, not often building long-term relationships, and most certainly not seeking companionship with each other. So the fact that I had encountered two groups of Fallen had me on edge.
Why were they after angels? Why were they using demon blood? Where were they getting the demon blood?
She cleared her throat and I blinked and looked at her. I spaced out a lot if I wasn't doing something with my hands. Luckily that time I was thinking about last night.
"You got into my phone last night." It was a statement. Did she want a response back? Luckily she continued. "And you went through my photos."
I wish women would just spit out what their words meant. She was clearly unhappy with my intrusion, but just how unhappy? Slap me in the face unhappy? Kick me in the balls unhappy? Did she want an apology?
"I didn't go through your photos. I opened your texts to call whoever was sending you so many. He sent a lot, did you read them yet? What a stalker, better watch out for that one." I grinned around the rim of my coffee cup as her face looked a bit murderous. I guess she had wanted an apology. "Look, I'm sorry. I saw it was Tobias Armstrong and I scrolled up only meaning to see the ones he had sent. I was a little bit disappointed they weren't nudes, but they were hot nonetheless."
I was glad the table was between us. "You're an ass. You know that?"
"I am aware of that fact. So you and Toby?"
"Yeah. Me and Toby." She watched me as I refilled my cup. "So, how do you two know each other? I didn't get an answer before you got punched in the face and since he left you here alone with me, I'm guessing you know each other well."
