Tell Me I'm an Angel (Frerard)

I don't want to forget

Rebel angels...why did that sound so familiar to me? An image of a dark haired man with magnificent white wings tipped in grey flashed before my eyes, and even though I couldn't recall his name, or who he was, I felt comforted just knowing that he existed.

"What if he escapes?" The demon asked as he dragged me to my feet roughly. Moving again after so long was immensely painful, and if I didn't have an audience, I would have burst into tears by this point.

"Why do you think it is your place to question me Alex?" Lucifer retorted harshly.

"I'm sorry sir - it's just a possibility I think we need to consider." His tone was meek, but I had to commend him for being brave enough to actually speak back to Lucifer, most demons would never have dared to voice any worries to his face.

"Look at him - he can't even walk, let alone run. The only way that would happen would be if someone helped free him, and I will not let that come to pass. Because of your persistent need to point out my wrongdoings, you will be charged with guarding him."

"Sir -" Lucifer talked right over Alex, ignoring his feeble protest entirely.

"Don't try to argue, I have already decided. If anyone makes any attempt to rescue him - if an angel so much as gets near him - you slit his throat immediately. Understood?"

"Yes sir." Alex bowed slightly, jostling my broken body in the process. I tried not to cry out, but a small gasp escaped my lips.

"Hopefully it won't come to that though. I would hate to lose my favorite play thing. I plan to drive them away with threats of his death, so do not strike prematurely." Lucifer continued to speak as he turned on his heel and walked back in the direction he came. Alex dragged me along with him as he followed in Lucifer's wake, and even though I wanted to listen in on their conversation, my brain was fuzzy with pain, and I was struggling to stay conscious.

I didn't understand what was happening, all I knew was that I was finally leaving the Wastelands, but only to be used as a pawn in some battle. I wasn't sure why my life would matter at all to any angels, but Lucifer was obviously assured that it would.

Angels...I used to know some angels. My damaged mind tried to reconstruct my fragmented memories as we walked, but each time I was jostled, my thoughts broke apart as pain exploded throughout my limbs, and they wouldn't reform until it had faded away again.

Finally we stopped moving, and I was tossed into something that resembled an ancient jail cell, the rough landing forced a soft cry from my lips, but no one seemed to take any notice of my exclamation.

"Let no one touch him tonight, he needs to be conscious for tomorrow. Clean him up a bit and feed him, but nothing else," Lucifer ordered sternly, and Alex nodded in understanding.

Once I had been washed and fed, I felt slightly alive for the first time in ages. My wounds still ached, and I could barely move, but the promise of no new torture - for the night at least - gave me hope that maybe I would be able to actually heal a bit before they tore me open again.

Alex stood guard outside my cell, but besides his presence, I was completely alone. I used this precious time to try and recall whatever remembrances I had left to my mind. I had been so close to something about angels earlier, and maybe now that I was alone, I could bring it fully into the light.

I knew I should be worrying about whatever was happening tomorrow, I had no idea what battle they were talking about, and the fact that I was going to be in the middle of it should have been a bigger issue to me, but it really wasn't. I mean, nothing could be worse than this - so why should I waste any of my precious free time pondering something I had no chance of changing anyway.

I didn't care about the future, I wanted to go back to the past. I had surrendered my memories in a desperate bid to end the pain, and even though it had worked to some extent, I couldn't recall what had pained me so deeply in the first place that I had chosen to relinquish it. What thought could bring me such mental agony that I had decided to let it go?

The same image flashed across my mind again: the dark haired man with tattoos littering his perfect skin, flying on the most gorgeous pair of wings I had ever had the privilege to see. I knew him somehow...he was special to me...I loved him?

And then it all came rushing back in a tidal wave of suppressed emotions that I couldn't believe I had ever managed to forget. It hurt to remember, but I didn't want this to go away, because this person was important, and worth any pain his memory brought me. His name flooded my mind as if to make up for all of the days of not being able to recall it.

Frank...Frank...Frank...

Another short chapter, but I wanted to do a quick one from Gerard's POV before I got to the final battle scene.

I am super tired, so if there are a lot of errors in this, I apologize. I will go back and edit it when I am more awake.

This chapter is dedicated to PunkRock13. Hopefully I didn't make you wait too long for the next chapter, and thank you so much for reading this story ^_^

And wow guys, thank you so much for the 20k reads on this. I am speechless.

((((sleepy vibes))))

<3 starr