I placed my pen on the table and read over what I had written. It was a letter to Sarah's parents, something I had promised her I would do the day before she died. She was eighteen and as long as they had news from her, there's nothing they could do, even if they wanted her back home.
"What are you doing?" Lucifer came up behind me. He had rented out a penthouse in the middle of the city, with a gorgeous view of Central Park. He could be very persuasive when he wanted to.
"Nothing," I whispered, folding up the paper and turning around in the spinning chair. He eyed the letter I held tightly in my hand skeptically. He kneeled down to my height, standing on his knees and pressing his hands on my own.
"Do you know what today is?" He asked with a smile.
"No," I lied. I knew exactly what today was, I had spent the night reminding myself of it.
"It's your birthday," he said lowly, grasping my hands in his. I stood up abruptly, pacing around the room. "You're eighteen."
"No, I would've been eighteen," I snapped. "Now I'm just dead."
"Is that really what you believe?" He asked, approaching the spot where I stood.
"Yes, it is," I spat. "There's no point in celebrating a day that means nothing." I grabbed my jacket and stormed to the door. It was a habit to grab a sweater when it was cold, but I guess I would get used to not feeling anything anymore.
"Where the hell are you going?"
"I need some air," I slammed the door behind me and headed for the elevator. I didn't understand why I was so angry, why I held so much rage. I didn't expect Lucifer to follow me, even if part of me hoped he would. I stepped outside, the cold air sneaking its way under my thin sweater. I started walking, not quite sure where I was going. January is a miserable month: bitterly cold, Christmas has already gone by and the sun sets early, at least, it does in the northern hemisphere.
Not many people were out, staying indoors to avoid the cold. I turned the corner, arriving in a sketchier part of the city, with many homeless people who called the sidewalk home. Some of them were lying, motionless, and I feared they were dead. Normally, I would've been terrified to walk around here, even in daylight. They were hungry and had nothing to lose, so they could do whatever they wanted, not that they all would. Now, though, I was fearless. I felt as though nothing could ever get to me.
Walking distractedly, I suddenly felt a hand reach up and grab hold of my wrist. I pulled away instinctively and starred down at the man. Under his dirty appearance were a pair of eyes I would recognize anywhere.
"Nathan," the word disappeared into the air. He huffed out a sigh of relief and stood up, embracing me into a hug. I looked down at the place he had been sitting; it was surrounded by garbage, pieces of fabric, and a grocery bags filled with unidentified objects. "What the hell are you doing here?"
His hands came up to hug his shoulders. "Trouble in paradise," he smiled weakly.
"You're freezing!" I gasped, taking his pale hand in mine. "Come on," I glanced around the street. "We'll find a coffee shop."
———————
He took a long sip of his coffee, savouring it. I watched him carefully, wondering what could have happened in the time we were apart. He then began devouring the scone I had bought for us, dodging the questions I was sending his way. Knowing I wouldn't get an answer any other way, I grabbed the plate he had left a piece on and pulled it away from him.
"You can have this back when you explain to me what happened."
He sighed, wiping the crumbs from around his chapped lips. "They wouldn't let me back in," he muttered. "And they made sure I would never step foot there again." It took me a moment to understand what he meant, a gasp escaping my lips. The bump on his back was no longer there.
"Nathan," I whispered sadly.
"They took my rings away," he looked down at his hands. "So now I'm left begging for change on the street."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I was ashamed of myself and how I treated you," he whispered. "But you're here now," he took ahold of my hands. "Faith is giving us a sign." His eyes were desperate and childlike, as if one wrong word would split his heart in two.
"It could never work Nathan," I whispered. "We're worlds apart now." He knew I wasn't talking about distance. His shoulders dropped and my chest felt tight. Deep down, he knew what I would say, but maybe he had hoped, by some miracle, that it would have been different this time.
"We need to get you clean clothes," I changed the topic of conversation.
The bell hung above the coffee shop door and we both raised our heads in its direction. Lucifer stood there, tense and unsure of how to react. Nathan stood up abruptly and lunged towards him, his fist colliding with Lucifer's cheek. Lucifer barely flinched while Nathan grunted in pain, holding his bruised knuckles in his other hand. I ran towards Nathan, taking him away from Lucifer.
"That was oddly satisfying," Lucifer smiled, and I shook my head, hoping he would shut up.
"Let's go outside," I muttered to Nathan. "Before he really kills you."
"I wouldn't mind," he whispered and I grasped his shoulders. He was so weak and frail and it was easy to move him around now. He had gone from a rebellious angel to the bottom of the ladder.
"Listen to me Nathan," I looked him in the eye. We stood in the middle of the sidewalk, people sending us odd glances. "This is my fault and I'm going to help you get back home, you hear me?"
"They cut off my wings, there's no way back!" He shouted.
"There's always a way, Nathan! Before I met you, I thought everything was black and white, but you made me realize that there's always something else. It's never really over."
"They'll kill me before they let me come close."
"Lucifer will know a way," I said confidently.
"What is it that I know?" I turned to face the man who seemed to be Nathan and I's every topic of conversation.
"A way to get him back Upstairs," I stated confidently and he chuckled.
"Why would I help the man who's repeatedly tried to kill me?"
"Because he'll be out of your life for good. You'll never have to see him again."
"And what if I enjoy watching him suffer here?" He smirked, looking over my shoulder towards Nathan.
"I'm asking you this because it's important to me Lucifer. It can be my birthday wish," I smiled and he sighed. I knew I had gotten him.
"The things you make me do," he rolled his eyes. "I don't know of a way, but I know someone who might."
"That's good enough for me," I smiled.
"I have business to attend to, but I'll see you later," Lucifer leaned down to place a soft peck on my lips. I hesitantly complied, feeling Nathan's watchful gaze. I watched him walk away and disappear into the crowd.
"Come on, I'll take you back to our place," I began walking in the direction of the penthouse.
"Olivia?" He asked behind me and I stopped to face him.
"Happy birthday," he smiled, reaching into his old, worn jacket. He pulled out a small navy blue velvet box and handed it to me. "I got it a few months ago, before all of this." It was a gold ring, with a red sparkling stone in the middle.
"Nathan," I whispered. "Why didn't you sell it after I left?"
"In hopes that I could give it to you when I saw you again. It's your birthstone," he looked down at the gem. "Jonathan had it carved Upstairs especially for you. I couldn't give it to anyone else."
"I don't deserve this Nathan," I placed it in the box and handed it back to him. He laughed, pushing it back.
"Please," he opened my hand and placed the case in my palm, his fingers lingering on my wrist. "It's your gift."
"Well, thank you," I sighed. I slid it on my index. It fit perfectly.
"Shall we?" He raised his arm and I obliged.
"Why don't we go to Central Park? Lucifer can wait another hour or two."
He smiled. "Lead the way."
—
"What does it feel like, being, well, dead?" He asked sheepishly.
"It feels like..." I thought for a moment. "Nothing."
"Nothing?" he laughed. "It must feel like something."
"It's strange. Sometimes, you feel nothing at all, like you're numb and other times, it's like the most powerful feeling in the world, like you can do anything. I can't really explain it."
"Some emotions are stronger than others. Even without a soul, they pierce through. Love, lust..." his sentence ended in a whisper.
"And how are you coping?"
"My wings are gone, I've lost all contact with Upstairs, with my family. I have nothing left," he looked up at me as we walked.
"You have me," I spoke up.
"Never the way I wish I could," he whispered, stopping in his tracks. I turned around, releasing a sigh, I wasn't blind to what he was trying to get across. In a perfect world, he would be the perfect guy. If I hadn't met Lucifer, things probably would have been completely different. Nathan was a beacon of hope while Lucifer was a cavern of mysteries and darkness.The problem was, I liked solving impossible puzzles.
I walked over to him, not quite knowing what I planned on doing. I leaned close, close enough that I knew I couldn't go back and I pressed my lips softly on his. A burst of light flashed before my eyes and I found myself standing in the middle of a front yard, a white picket fence surrounding the property. I turned around, coming face to face with an old house. It was familiar and I suddenly realize where I was: this was my home. My first home.
I walked up to the door. It was brand new; the walls weren't blackened by the fire and the windows were all intact. This was before my birth parents had died. I hesitated, wondering if I should knock. No cars were in the driveway, so I assumed no one was home. The door creaked open as I turned the handle and I peaked inside. It smelled clean and fresh, like lit candles and soap.
It was eerily quiet; there wasn't a single sound, aside from my shallow breath and the echo of my footsteps. Baby toys and stuffed animals littered the living room floor. Near the couch lied a pink stuffed rabbit and I gasped quietly, reaching down to grab it. It had been apart of all my childhood memories. I never realized this is where it came from.
A child's laugh resonated from upstairs and I raised my head in surprise — and fear — and looked up at the ceiling. I stood up slowly, never taking my eyes off of where I had heard the sound come from. What was left of my soul, the one that had read too many Stephen King novels, was shouting at me to run as fast and as far as I could. The new side of me, though, the one that had no fear, pushed me towards the staircase. I needed to know where it was coming from.
I reached the top and looked around. One of the doors was cracked open slightly and I could hear objects being moved around the room. I walked towards it slowly, realizing that I wasn't welcome in this house.
"Come in, Olivia," a small, girlish voice came from inside the room. I held my breath, pressing my palm against the door and pushing it open slowly. "I've been expecting you."
I peered inside the small bedroom, the walls painted in a light pink. A crib was placed in the far right corner and a little girl, her back towards me, sat at the white table in the middle in front of a set of cups an teapots. She turned her head, a large smile on her face.
"It's you," I whispered. I recognized her features from the last time I had seen her. She had aged a few years, although it had barely been a month. She had Sarah's smile. She wasn't wearing a white dress and I then remembered how we parted the last time.
"I was wondering when you would show up. Sit, sit!" She chirped and I obliged, taking a seat in the small white chair in front of her. "Tea or coffee?"
"Coffee," I hesitated, joining in on her little game.
"Good choice." To my surprise, hot coffee came pouring out of the pot. Physically, she couldn't have been older than nine or ten, but she acted much older.
"Why am I here?"
"Because I wanted you to be here. I knew it was only a matter of time before you kissed Nathan anyway."
"Excuse me?"
"You're here, aren't you?" She said with a deadly serious face and I nodded slowly. "With us being blood, it was easy to attach my essence to his, especially in the weakened state he finds himself in."
"What's your name?" I whispered.
"People don't have names where I come from," she said quietly. I sipped at my cup, watching her intently.
"Where are you from?"
"Purgatory," she replied. "I belong in neither Heaven, nor Hell."
"You're so old," I whispered. "How is that even possible?"
"Angels mature much quicker than humans. I guess the rules apply to me too. I'm happy you're here, it gets quite lonely. The others don't like talking to me."
"Who are the others?"
"The others like me. We're the children of bad angels." It suddenly hit me that the little girl sitting before me was Nathan's child. She was the reason he couldn't go back home, although he had gotten himself into the mess he was in all on his own. She was just an innocent in all of this.
"What can I do to get you out of there?"
"Only the high counsel of Upstairs could free us. I'm lucky, some of them have been here for thousands of years."
"And they just left you all there to rot?"
"We are abominations. We are unnatural."
"That is total bullshit!" I shouted loudly.
"It is how it works," she muttered. A silence had settled between us and I watched her intently. There was still an innocence in her eyes, even with all she had gone through.
"I'll speak with Lucifer. There must be something we can do. There has to be."
"I fear even Lucifer won't be able to do much."
"How many of you are there?"
"Hundreds, maybe even thousands. It is a world of labyrinths down there, I haven't met everybody."
"And how did you get me here?"
"There's a powerful hybrid helping me. She transported us to a place in time where an important event happened in your life," as she uttered those words, the sound of a car rolling into the driveway could be heard from the bedroom window. "This is the night your parents die." I raised my head and looked at her with wide eyes.
"What do you mean?" Tears began welling in my eyes.
"In a few hours, a soldier from Upstairs will come set fire to your house and take you to Abigail."
"I have to stop him," I stood up abruptly. The front door opened with the sound of my parents laughter downstairs. The girl without a name closed the bedroom door carefully, so she wouldn't alert them.
"If you do, you will never meet Lucifer or Nathan. You'll never meet your Dad and I'll never have been born," she whispered. "This is how it is meant to be. Sometimes people have to suffer for fate to take its course."
"I can't just let them die," a single tear slid down my cheek.
"You have to. This is how it is supposed to be. Now, take this," she placed a dagger in my palm.
"What am I supposed to do with it?"
"You have to kill me so that we both go back," she stated matter-of-factly and I shook my head frantically.
"I'm not going to kill you!"
"You have to, or we both burn in this house along with them," she insisted. "Take the dagger and pierce it through my heart. It won't hurt that much."
"I can't believe I'm doing this," my voice trembled. I placed a hand on her small shoulder to steady myself.
"I'll contact you soon," she declared. Footsteps could be heard climbing up the staircase and I began to panic.
"Are you kidding me? I'll do it then," She reached out between us and placed her hand on top of my own, the one that was shakily holding the weapon, and pushed it into her chest.
I rose up from the ground in a long gasp. "Olivia!" Nathan shouted next to me.
It took me a few moments to catch my breath. A crowd had gathered around the two of us. Clearly me collapsing after a kiss wasn't something you saw everyday.
"What happened?" Nathan's eyes searched for mine.
"I saw your daughter."