by Todd Young
“God, I love you.”
“Yeah? Well, I guess we’re going to have to find someone who gives a fuck about you.”
Angel laughed and Cole’s body buckled, a violent tremor threatening to lift him from his feet. Angel’s first thought was to reach for him and bind, and he guessed this must be some sort of defensive posture, perhaps when paired angels were threatened. Still, he was simply too weary. It didn’t matter if it were Cole, he simply couldn’t bear the disorientation of joining with another mind right now.
And anyway, between them and within them, a body of psychic strength was growing. Finn and Jason had set off down the corridor, and as Angel turned now, he saw feathered figures staggering out of their cells into the dust and chaos. They’d gleaned what Finn had learned, and even before he reached them were slipping through the bars. Within a few moments, the corridor was packed, weary, tattered angels stumbling to find their mates. Flashes of light burst as those who hadn’t touched in years fused instantaneously.
Majesties erupted, filling the corridor with light.
Cole beamed.
“Let’s get out of here,” Angel said. They joined hands. “Finn!” Angel shouted. He turned to him. “Let’s go!”
Finn nodded. He glanced at Angel and their eyes held and Angel knew what it was; this thing between them would never be over. He couldn’t ever not love Finn.
Not now.
“Come on!” he said, and Finn brightened, it now occurring to him that the burden was no longer his, that he no longer had to worry about getting them out of this place.
Angel understood this because he could read Finn’s mind, and as Finn joined them, he kissed him on the cheek.
Finn colored. He even looked a little embarrassed. Then he said, “Where the fuck are the stairs?”
95
Later, of course, it was laughable. They didn’t need the stairs. If Finn had uttered his final, famous words on the subject right then and there. If he’d told them reality was a mindsphere, then anything might have been possible. But that was much later, when they understood what had changed about their world. Right at that moment, Finn panicked, and it blossomed infectiously. A collective gasp rocked them and the now very large group of angels turned to him, seeking direction.
I don’t know, Finn said. I don’t know anymore.
Angel clenched his teeth and his stomach dropped. Anxiety gripped him. He’d never thought of himself as claustrophobic, but the idea of being buried beneath the earth, of drowning in earth …. He frowned, his head angled at the floor. A shadow slipped across the stone in a preternatural way and he frowned, thinking it was a mouse. It swelled a little, and then resolved itself in the brightening luminescence as a lump of soil, ballooning out of the cracks between the flagstones. It was happening everywhere. It spilled over the floor like tumbling dung, and began to roll, defying gravity, banking around their feet.
“I just don’t know!” Finn said, and broke with a wretched sob. “Can’t you leave me alone?”
Jason folded him into his arms and Angel nodded. Finn had had enough. He’d got them this far and he’d cracked and that was it. Angel wasn’t going to push him. If they were trapped and it was over that was it. He just wished Jason would get out of the way so he could comfort Finn properly. He stared blankly for a moment, unseeing, vaguely registering earth as it began to spill through the walls and into the corridor. How had he got here? he wondered, trying to remember. Hunter had pushed him through a door and … that had led to the ….
He jolted, tugging Cole with him, and started in the direction of his cell. Come on, he said, and then backed it up with his mouth. “Come on!”
That seemed to be all any of them needed. They started as a body, but Jason held back, his arms around Finn. He nodded at Angel. He’d bring Finn along, he seemed to be saying. Angel hesitated, but a moment later he was leading a party back through the bars of his cell. The door on the rear wall, through which Hunter had originally thrust him, gave way like butter when he tried it. They passed into the corridor beyond. At the end of that, a door opened into a small room, and then another onto the platform where Cole had originally fallen.
Stupidly, Angel hoped it wasn’t locked. The handle was warm, shuddering with the general clamor of the place, but it opened when he turned it. It was only as he was standing on the platform next to Cole, standing by the doorway as a seemingly never-ending stream of angels peeled out of it that he realized he might simply have slipped through.
“Duh!”
Don’t start dissing me.
Cole smiled.
Aaron and Ben emerged last, hand in hand, a feeble light surrounding them. They were the most broken down of all, and Angel watched solicitously as they limped along the platform, supporting each other. They hadn’t bound in an instantaneous flash like some of the others. They were simply too weak, he guessed. What had Hunter started when he infected them? A couple of gay guys who’d later gone on to pair? If what those angels in the park had said were true, then gay angels were an abomination.
Abomination? This was Finn, emerging from the doorway, Jason in tow. He was back in charge, of Jason at least. You really ought to learn what that means, Ange.
He passed Angel and broke into a run, Jason lifting his feet at the same time.
A shudder rocked the building.
“Come on,” Cole said.
Angel nodded, but their pace slowed as they walked along the platform, anxiety falling away as they gleaned the bulk of their fellows spilling onto the concourse above them, reveling in freedom. When Cole and Angel reached the top of the stairs, the concourse looked like a scene from a national disaster; a large group of beaten angels were milling aimlessly.
“So — Hunter.” Cole’s mind turned back to what had happened. “I guess he’s really dead.”
“I’d say so.”
“Are you glad?” Cole pressed his lips together and waited for an answer.
“You know I’m not.” He couldn’t be “glad” about someone dying.
Cole didn’t bother nodding. It was pointless. Words were pointless and actions were pointless; they understood one another irregardless. All they had yet to do was bind, with one another, and alone, though it frightened Angel still. Even if were Cole.
You love me.
Yeah, but I don’t want to …
He stopped as three or four bursts of light lit the concourse. Everywhere now, couples who’d been torn apart for years were binding, binding as they’d been near to doing when Hunter captured and separated them. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, Angel thought, as pair after pair burst brilliantly and fused. It was meant to begin with intimacy, but they’d simply been apart too long.
“We’ll do it properly,” Cole said.
Angel wasn’t so certain. “Yeah?” He watched as Aaron and Ben folded together with a brilliant burst and then swelled, a bright, tempered majesty extending its wings. That had looked so … effortless.
“I want to do it properly.”
Angel nodded and glimpsed something white and fawn streak toward the ceiling. He lifted his head and saw far above him Finn and Jason, hovering beneath the glass, their wings stretched wide.
Finn inclined his head toward them all and shouted. “You can fly, fuckers!” He twisted away and shot upward, breaking the crystalline ceiling side-by-side with Jason.
96
The building continued to rock, twisting and screeching, though now that they were in a larger space, it didn’t seem so threatening. First one and then another of the angels lifted into the air, the majesties frightening. They shattered the many-paned ceiling time and again, and glass rained upon Cole and Angel. Within a matter of moments, they had all gone, the place silent, a lone, blue figure standing alone on the concourse.
Miriam.
“Miriam!” Angel said, and lifted an arm. He was so used to speaking he didn’t know if he’d ever break the habit.
She turned, her face pitiful. I can’t fly.
“Come on,” Cole said, and took his hand.
They crossed to her. Cole suggested lifting her, holding her between them, and hesitantly, she nodded. Angel guessed they’d fly back to the apartment, though it seemed an odd thought. It occurred to him that a large group angels had just streaked across the New York skyline, though he had no idea whether anyone had seen them or not.
Not, Miriam said as they gripped her hands. Definitely not. I think you’ll be surprised when you see where we are.
The ceiling hung in ruins, but as they approached it, Cole was determined to find a pane to crash though. Angel jerked away, picturing blood and mess, and they wavered dangerously. Miriam, suspended precariously between them, calmed him. Physical injury was now of little concern, apparently, though Angel had no idea how much things had changed until they burst through the top of the superstructure and into clear air.
Most of New York had disappeared. Seven or eight glittering towers stood on Manhattan island, none of them recognizable but the Freedom Tower. The rest of the city was now a wilderness or a park of some kind. There were houses dotted here and there, large houses that looked as though they belonged in some feudal past. They were startlingly beautiful, but not at all familiar.
Welcome to the Realm, Miriam said.
The Realm?
Better known as Earth, or anywhere at all. It really depends on the company. The character of the people.
You’ve been here before?
Well, I’ve glimpsed it.
Angel and Cole nodded, gazing at the landscape as they hovered over Hunter’s version of Penn Station. It was folding inward now in much the same way as Hunter had done. The noise was colossal, yet it seemed distant and unreal, not part of this place at all. Angel figured the apartment was out, and wondered where the hell they were supposed to go. Miriam might not have been large, but it wasn’t exactly easy supporting her between them. They weren’t going to be able to do it for long.
Prospect Park? Cole suggested, and Angel acquiesced.
In a few minutes they were hovering over the park, which bizarrely enough seemed much as it had on the day they’d been there. They landed by the lake and Miriam thanked them. She straightened and glanced around.
It was midday, a bright, sunny day, though it was startlingly quiet.
Birdsong, and a slight breeze, but that was it.
Cole and Angel wondered where the others were and then grinned, lighting up at how their thoughts had coincided. Their eyes tussled with one another, seeking and then locking firm. It was so long since they’d seen each other clearly, and Cole looked so well, so healthy and so desirable.
I guess you guys want me to leave you alone.
“What?” they said in unison.
You want me to go now?
They knew she’d spoken, but failed to understand. Cole had taken Angel’s hands and they were swimming in one another’s eyes. A sudden ruffle of feathers startled them and they lifted their heads to see a descending majesty, one they almost instantly recognized as Jason and Finn. As it alighted, Angel soured, staring at it peevishly. It was so beautiful. He couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t joined with Finn like that.
Jason was in there with him.
“You two didn’t waste any time,” Miriam said. She had already started across the grass, but had turned at the ruffle of feathers. Angel hadn’t heard her voice since that first day in the courtyard. As he brought the memory to mind, it struck him it now seemed like a dream. In fact, his entire life seemed like a dream. He recalled his mother, of course, his childhood, school, surfing, college, his friends. He remembered the institute. Yet it all now seemed to have happened not simply in the past, but in some other place, and was even now existing, playing eternally inside a dreamlike glass sphere, with weather, like a snow scene, a place where the rules differed.
The parallel was so exact he couldn’t quite shake it.
Hadn’t his life been real?
He grew aware of a commotion, of something colorful behind the tree line, and lifted his head. Cole had already seen them. It was Darius and Sophia, emerging from a heavily wooded thicket.
That was all they needed.
“Those two!”
Cole nodded.
You think we’re in trouble?
Who knows?
Miriam was crossing to the pair. She lifted an arm. Their eyes widened as they saw her. Darius looked shocked, as though he’d never seen a sorrow angel in his life. He watched on as she engaged Sophia in conversation, in verbal conversation. After a moment of surprise on Sophia’s part, they seemed to be getting along quite well.
Cole was hopeful. “You think she’ll work it out?”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
“You’re really not in a good mood, are you?”
“Hell, I don’t know. What the fuck’s happening, Cole? You think they’re going to let us stay here?”
“Where else would we go?”
Angel shrugged. “Hell?”
“Come on.”
“Come on, what? You don’t think there’s a hell?”
“I don’t know.”
Slowly, Cole turned to Angel. Behind him, the majesty that was Finn and Jason was crossing the grass. As it approached, Darius’s eyes widened. He looked bewildered, stunned, his eyes fixed on the majesty’s chest before lifting them to its face, Finn and Jason so impossibly, so painfully beautiful now, streaming with golden luminescence.
“Haven’t you wondered what we might look like?”
“We?”
“You and I?”
“You mean if we … like that.”
“It was good with Jase.”
Angel’s lips twisted bitterly. “Was it?”
“Wasn’t it good with Finn?”
“No — well … no.”
“Really?”
“Maybe a bit.”
“Don’t you think it’d be good if we …” He threaded his hand into Angel’s. “… slipped off into the trees.”
97
“Maybe we ought to wait,” Angel said.
“Wait?”
They were in the thicket now, Cole pulling Angel into the grass. The day was warm, the sun showering through the trees in a cathedral-like grandeur. It struck him that the place was vast, the domain of giants perhaps, the trees fingering the clouds. He slipped down gently into the undergrowth, an emerald quilt of cotton-soft grass. As it kissed his thighs, he flinched. It was a little cool and dewy.
“I really think we ought to—”
“Wait?”
Angel nodded. “Yeah. Maybe they … Maybe they …” He frowned as Cole slid onto the grass beside him. “Maybe they … Maybe they’ll say we can’t be gay.”
Cole watched him in silence. Angel vaguely heard, You can hear me, can’t you? but he was afraid of this, and trying to defend himself against Cole.
“They’ll probably … I think we’ll probably get in a lot of trouble.”
Cole reached out and laid a finger on his lips.
Angel drew his head away. “Don’t you think?”
“Shut. Up.”
“Shut up?”
“Yeah, shut up.” He paused, and then shouted inwardly. I can read your mind, you beautiful, fucking idiot! I know what you want!
What do I want?
Me.
You?
Cole nodded.
You called me an idiot.
You are an idiot. You’re an utter fool.
He ducked forward and kissed Angel on the lips. Now Cole was hanging over him, with his hands on his shoulders, pressing him into the grass. “You want me to fuck you?”
“You to fuck me?” Angel felt a little bewildered. The confidence he’d seen in Cole today had now emerged again, and it struck him that this was Jason, that Jason had influenced Cole. And now Cole was staring at him intensely, and Angel just knew … well, of course, Cole could read his mind.
He was getting an erection.
You are
so. Fucking. Gorgeous.
Me?
You. Cole kissed him again, passionately this time. He laid his body on Angel’s, his erection stiff between his thighs, desperate now, it seemed.
A mesh of birdsong, swollen with life and promise, seized Angel and married his thoughts with Cole’s. In a moment Cole was in him and it was simply the day and them. They just were. The physical pleasure was momentarily eclipsed by the psychic, by the comfort of being so near another, Cole’s head beneath his chin. Angel began to wonder if there were any other being beside themselves and then lost this thought as Cole began to pump violently, his jerky thrusts having grown far more practiced than since last Angel was with him.
Cole laughed and tried to catch his breath, picking up on Angel’s jealousy, and Angel smiled in chagrin. It couldn’t possibly matter. They were so close.
And then one.
The orgasm was accompanied by a flash of warmth and brilliance. Angel closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was no longer human, not in any sense of the word.
98
They stumbled out of the thicket remade, hand in hand, and walked toward the party on the hill. Finn was nodding, frowning at Darius and trying to explain something. Behind them, hovering in the hazy distance, Angel glimpsed the figures of many heavenly beings, one of them a white, winged horse. Darius’s eyes widened as Jason stepped forward and laid his hand on his shoulder. They argued briefly, or appeared to, though a moment later Darius gripped Jason in a firm hug.
