In the Case of Anori's Wings

Ch. 8 The Wings of an Angel

I found out what I wanted to do with chapter 8... but now I'm honestly considering just stopping this fic because there are just so many other ideas begging to be written and I can only focus on so many stories at once. So, with that being said, I'll try and update this one when I can and look out for other stories once I get them started and posted. That's all.

P.S. Metatron is still a dick-wad...

~Leysa

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anori calmly walked back to Sam's room and closed the door, locking it behind her. She sighed and walked over to the bed, sitting down. Anori clasped her hands and looked up at the ceiling. "I feel silly... praying to another angel." She whispered with a shake of her head. "But Luce... Lucifer. Help." she sobbed, squeezing her eyes shut and allowing her built-up tears to fall down her face.

When she opened her eyes, she saw that no one was with her, she was still alone. "It's okay." she mumbled into the shadows of the room. "I wasn't expecting anything anyways." Gently, she lowered herself onto her stomach and buried her face in Sam's pillow, crying relentlessly before drifting off into a fitful slumber.

Lucifer had been there, standing in the shadows, gawking at the damages that had been inflicted upon her; he had been there since the moment his name left her lips. His grey eyes watched her as she lay down and begin to cry, taking note of her torso and shoulders which were wrapped with now stained cloths. After a few minutes she drifted off, her body slowly rising and falling with each breath she took.

His footsteps echoed softly as he left the comfort of the shadows and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and gingerly reaching out to run a hand down her back. She jerked slightly in her sleep as his hand barely grazed where her wings once were.

"I'm here, love." he whispered, "I'm here."

* * *

Metatron sat at his desk, well, the desk he now claimed as his, and admired his new prize that hung proudly behind him. Wings, and not his own. He smiled as the door to his new office was opened and two angels shoved a rather bedraggled looking Michael in, throwing him to the floor in front of him. "Michael." he said, a bit too happily. "How nice of you to join me, I see you have been freed from the cage."

"Shut up." he said, glaring at the lesser angel that now stood above him on the ground.

"How's the cage treating your brother?" Metatron asked, backing up a few paces as Michael pulled himself from the ground. "Is he sitting there mourning for the bloody corpse of his lovely fallen angel... or shall I say human?" he said, turning and looking to the wings that hung behind his desk. Metatron was sick, and he knew it deep down inside of himself. He heard the audible gasp from the archangel and smirked, turning back to face him. "You can tell him she was a screamer when you go back to see him. She put up a fight and everything, but... wingless angels just can't save themselves from the fall, now can they?"

"She's not dead." Michael answered flatly, looking at Metatron, anger boiling deep in his eyes. "And Lucifer is no longer in the cage." Was his brother a dick? Yes. But he didn't deserve the pain of losing his mate, not like this, no angel did.

"Wrong-o!" he cried happily. "Took her grace and everything."

"I know." he answered more boldly. "You're a disgusting example of an angel, father should have thrown you out, not Lucifer."

"But I made quite the convincing story against your brother, didn't I?" he smiled. "And now his mate is dead... shame really. She was the perfect model for Eve, and it was just so easy to convince him she was her."

"She. Is. Alive." Michael enunciated clearly, room growing colder. "Accept that you failed, Lucifer will have your head for this." With a flutter of wings he was gone.

Metatron stood there, mouth agape, staring at the now empty spot where the archangel had been standing not two seconds ago. "I didn't fail... did I?" he asked, genuine fear creeping into his voice, before turning again to face Anori's wings. "Did I?" he asked again, face going pale, doubting both himself and his skills.