by T. J. Klune
Oh fuck. More archangels.
My eyes get wider at each name mentioned, and Cal gets more tense. He starts to pull himself up. I try to stop him, but he ignores me. He leans on me, putting one arm over my shoulders, wrapping the other around his middle, holding his stomach as he grimaces. It’s obvious he’s trying to push himself between me and the other angels.
“Well, this is certainly new,” Raphael grumbles, looking pissed off.
“It’s better than appearing in a vision surrounded by fire,” David says, looking at all the people who are watching him. He preens a bit for the crowd. “That usually scares everyone off.”
“I think it’s just you,” Gabriel says. “People like seeing me.” He starts shaking hands with everyone around him. Rosie looks dumbfounded as purple feathers brush over her face. Nina laughs in unfettered delight.
“What have you done?” Raphael accuses Michael.
Michael snorts. “It wasn’t me. You can trust me on that. Benji did it.”
All their eyes turn to me. “Uh. What did I do?” I ask them nervously.
“Changed the shape of things,” Michael says, though he doesn’t sound upset, just resigned. “Calliel will be the first, but surely others will follow. You are more, Benji, than the sum of your parts.”
“The first what?” Cal asks.
“The first to be given a choice,” Michael says.
“The big guy upstairs must be getting old,” David says, sounding bored. “He’s lost his marbles.”
Gabriel shrugs. “Maybe he just knows something we don’t.”
David rolls his eyes. “I think that’s a given.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Raphael says. “A war is coming. The longer we’re gone, the further behind we get.”
“Patience,” Michael says. “We don’t even know if it will be our war yet to fight.”
“You may have forgotten Metatron,” Raphael snarls at him, “but I haven’t. I know what our brother is capable of. He’s a ruthless bastard who thinks he’s a god. His corruption will soon overflow and spill into the rest of the worlds. You have missed news from the front lines, Michael. The Split One has crossed into Metatron’s field. Even Father himself cannot say what will happen. The timetable has shifted. This is different from all the times that it has happened before. You know it is. Its own Firsts won’t be able to stop It again. The seventh time will be the last.”
“We wait,” Michael says firmly, even as he pales further. “We agreed to wait. To give them all time. But you are right. We must return.”
They all turn to look at Cal and me. The people of Roseland try to crowd in front of us again.
“Calliel,” Michaels says. “You are to be given a choice. You may return to On High and continue to be the guardian angel of Roseland. The people and everyone in the town will be yours as your duty dictates. It is the reason you were made, and these people are your responsibility. Father will be there, as he’s always been.”
“Or?” he asks.
“Or,” Michael says slowly, “you may choose to stay. You will no longer be an angel. You will be human. Your halo and wings will be stripped. You will no longer be able to return to On High. You will age. You will bleed. You will get sick. Eventually, you will die. How you live your life from here on out will determine what happens then. Another angel will be assigned to Roseland, though it won’t be given priority. Our resources are stretched thin as it is. There may be times Roseland will not be guarded, though I know not of Father’s plans for this place during those times.”
“What’s the catch?” I ask even as my heart begins to race. There has to be one. It can’t be that easy.
Michael watches me with shrewd eyes. “Calliel will not be able to speak to our Father for as long as he lives. Even in prayer, even in the quietest moments, our Father will not be there.”
“You bastards,” I whisper. “Oh, you fucking bastards. I’ve already made the choice!”
None of the archangels flinch. “We are tested,” Michael says. “Always. That was yours, to show you could know the true meaning of sacrifice. My Father has seen your heart, Benjamin Green. He has seen it well. Your time is done. This is meant for Calliel.”
I turn to Cal. His eyes are closed, his lips drawn in a thin line. His jaw is tense. My nose rubs his cheek, the red stubble prickling wonderfully against my skin. I know what his Father means to him. I know the way he ached at being cut off from him after he fell from On High. I know the pain he carries with him at the loss of the one who made him. I know better than anyone else. I know because of the choice I almost made sitting next to the river with my own father. I know the feeling of separation. Of loss.
I could beg him to stay. I could whisper in his ear how much I love him. I could plead with my eyes that I am nothing without him. But I can’t. It’s not my choice. I can’t tell him what I want, because it’s not about me. It’s about him. It’s all up to him. I won’t blame him, no matter what decision he makes. His Father means more to him than I ever could. I know because of what Big Eddie is to me. It’s impossible, this choice. It’s improbable.
Part of me wants him to go, just like I said.
There’s another part, though, one that rises within me. Another part that whispers, Oh, my heart. Oh, my soul. Please stay. Please stay with me. Don’t let me go.
As if he can hear my thoughts, he turns and brushes his lips against mine. An arc of electricity shoots down my spine at the subtle scrape of his mouth. He leans his forehead to mine and opens his dark eyes. They are endless. I try to smile. It doesn’t work.
“If my Father is what I must sacrifice,” the angel Calliel says, “if that is what he asks of me, then so be it. I choose humanity. I choose Roseland. I choose these people.” He kisses me again as a tear slides down my cheek. “I choose you, Benjamin Edward Green. I will always choose you.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, my voice cracking. “Is this what you want? Your Father… you can’t just give that up. It’s not fair. He’s your home. You can’t do this. Just for me. You can’t. I’m not—”
“No,” he breathes. “This is my home. These people are my home. This place. And you. Benji, I do it for you, but I do it more for myself. I do it because I can finally make my own choice.” He pulls away from me, and I almost whimper at the loss. He turns to face his brothers. “I choose to stay,” he says, his voice clear and strong. “I choose to stay, for I am home. Father, I am home.”
Michael nods tightly. “Brothers,” he commands, “it’s time.”
Cal takes a step away from me, and the crowd around us clears. The archangels surround him, like the corners to a square. Cal bows his head and brings his folded hands to his chest. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply.
The angels hold out their arms toward each other, completing the square. Their wings snap open wide. Halos appear over each of their heads, Cal’s the brightest of all. It glows with such a fierce blue light it takes my breath away. I almost want to stop them, to end this. He’s giving up everything he is. And for what? Me?
You are everything, my father whispers. Impossibly, improbably, you are everything. To me. To your mother. To him. I’ve taught you, boy. I’ve taught you true. Now it’s time to stand and accept what is yours. He has made his choice. And you both will be loved for as long as you live and beyond.
Big Eddie is right. He always is. Cal is my responsibility.
And I will cherish him.
I hold myself tall, ignoring the aches and pains, the sweat on my brow. I don’t turn away from the lights growing brighter here in the church. The crowd around me begins to back up again, trying to get some distance from the air that starts to swirl around the five angels. Cal still has his head bowed, and he’s moving his lips. The archangels upturn their heads and close their eyes. “O, Lord,” the archangels say as one, “hear our prayer.”
Everything explodes in vibrant color, as if the church is in a kaleidoscope. Many fall to their knees in veneration. There
are tears on almost everyone’s faces, but they’re ones of joy, of rapture. They are witnessing a miracle, here, in our little town, and they cannot look away.
And here, at the end, I show you the humanizing of the guardian angel Calliel.
The roaring wind gets louder, the lights almost impossible to look at given their brightness. Cal drops his hands to his sides and his head falls back. When his eyes open, they’re glowing white, as if he’s alight from within. His wings extend completely and he rises from the ground, his toes dragging against the carpet and then lifting off completely. He continues to rise until he’s level with the stained-glass image of St. Jude Novena. His halo spins impossibly fast. His body is arched so far back it looks painful. His hands and feet fan out, each digit straining.
And then a soft light comes from St. Jude Novena, as if the window itself is emitting the glow. The colors of the stained glass refract and pour out onto Cal as he starts to spasm. The wind whips through my hair as I take a step forward toward the archangels, my eyes never leaving Calliel above me. Someone tries to stop me, tries to pull me back by my hand, but I shake loose and continue forward.
It starts with his wings.
The tips of his wings begin to fall away, like they’re crumbling and turning to a bright azure dust, pulled into the storm that rages inside the church. Cal’s mouth falls open in a silent scream as his wings dissolve further. His halo begins to expand, growing larger and larger until it’s wider around than he is. For a moment, I think the center of the halo will go black, and he’ll be sucked into the black for choosing this world over his Father. I think this whole thing has been God’s great joke upon us, one last punch in the gut before he sends my whole world crashing down.
But it doesn’t happen. Cal’s wings have dissolved completely, and blue light fills the church as the crumbled feathers are sucked up with the wind, catching a downdraft and falling toward me. I close my eyes as the dust hits my face and rolls down my body. All the pain in my body is soothed, and I feel him there, in me, in my head and heart. I feel the connection with his mind. He’s scared now, scared of what’s happening, scared he won’t be able to keep me happy. He has doubts, and they’re such a human thing that my breath catches in my throat. But the one thing he does not doubt is me. The one thing he does not regret is becoming human.
Even as I heal and feel him within me completely, I press back toward him and the dust rises again, caught in an updraft, flying up toward him. It travels around his body, wrapping around him front and back, rising up until it passes over his head. He spasms again as it leaves him, clenching his hands to fists at his sides, snapping his head back and forth. I cry out, but he doesn’t seem to hear me. What remains of his feathers spins above his head and shoots through the halo. Nothing appears out the other side. Once the blue dust is gone, the halo shrinks back in on itself, collapsing until it falls into nothing. The light of St. Jude Novena fades away. Cal is lowered from the ceiling, the winds beginning to die as he descends. Weak blue light circles him, and all I can think of is how he first came to me, a flash of fire falling from the sky.
His body relaxes as he floats toward the ground, spinning until he’s facedown. He lands on the floor on his knees in the middle of the archangels, and they sigh as one and step back. The wind is gone. The lights are gone. His wings are gone. His eyes are closed, and he takes short, shallow breaths, the only sound in the quiet church. He collapses on his hands, his head bent toward the floor of the church. He twists over and lies down on his back.
I take a hesitant step forward. “Cal?” I whisper. I reach him and drop to my knees, my hands shaking as I reach out to touch him. I let my fingers trail over his face. “Cal?”
He opens his eyes. “Benji,” he says, his dark eyes filling with wonder. “I feel… different.”
I worry. “Different good or different bad?”
“Different different.”
“Do you hurt?”
“No.”
“Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“My heart,” he says, reaching up to touch my cheek. I nuzzle into the palm of his hand. “It’s never been like this. I never thought it could be like this. It aches, but it’s so good. It’s better than anything.”
I understand, I think. He’s not sick. He’s not in pain. He’s not wounded. His heart aches because he’s human. It aches because it’s full. “You’re home,” I tell him gently, leaning down to kiss him once. He wraps his arms around me and holds me down against him, my face in his neck.
“You still hurt?” he asks me hoarsely.
“No. Your feathers. They… helped me too.”
“I asked him for that.”
“Asked who?”
“My Father. Benji, I saw my Father. I spoke with him. I walked with him.”
Michael crouches down on his knees, staring down at us, a quizzical look on his face. “Father spoke to you?” he asks carefully. The other archangels look just as interested.
“Yes,” Cal said.
“What did he say?”
Cal sighs. “He told me there was no one such as me in the world and that I belong to him. He told me he’ll believe in me, always. He told me he’ll miss me every day we’re apart, but that one day, I would see him again.”
I close my eyes to keep from breaking.
Michael sighs. “Maybe one day I’ll be able to understand him.”
“Highly unlikely,” David snorts. “I doubt any of us will.”
“No matter,” Gabriel says. “What’s done is done and can’t be undone.” He blushes for a moment as Michael glares at him. I wonder at it, but don’t ask.
“This is just the beginning,” Raphael says, looking disgusted. “Wait until On High hears what Father did for Calliel. We’re going to be losing angels left and right! How the hell can we be expected to win this war if we have no one left to fight should we be called to do so?”
Michael stands as I help Cal to his feet. “It doesn’t matter,” Michael says, looking up at St. Jude. “Father has made his decision. The design has changed. If others choose to fall, then it will be done. We have to put faith in him that he knows what he’s doing. He would not have made this decision now if he didn’t think we could survive.” He looks back to us. “If the time calls for it, Calliel, I may ask you to stand with us. I pray it doesn’t come to that. But in case it does, I will come for you again.”
I feel cold as I grip his hand tightly. “Not without me, you won’t,” I snap at Michael. “He’s mine now. He goes, I go.”
“Benji—”
“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.”
He nods, unable to meet my eyes.
“Will it be soon?” Nina asks suddenly. I’d forgotten that all of Roseland surrounds us. I look out over the crowd. They look dazed and tired, confused and elated. Exactly how I feel.
Michael looks at her. “What was that, child?”
“Your war,” she says. “Is it coming soon?”
The other three archangels share glances. Michael doesn’t look away from Nina. I wonder what he sees in her. I wonder if he knows she is different, in the best sense of the word. “I don’t know, little one,” he says finally, his wings drooping. “I think so.”
“Will you fight? All of you?”
“If we’re called to. If there’s no other hope.” The other archangels nod.
“There’s always hope,” she insists. “There is always hope, and you must remember that. You are not alone in this.”
Michael’s eyes widen as he takes a step back. “Where did you hear….” He shakes his head. “This town,” he mutters. “What is it about this town? Who are you people?”
No one answers.
“Michael,” Raphael growls. “It’s time to leave.”
“It’s been… interesting,” David says, tipping a salute at us.
Gabriel surprises me by rushing over and pulling me into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispers
. “For allowing us to choose. Maybe one day when this is over, I can find my own redheaded daddy.” He kisses me on the cheek, and I gape at him as he prances away.
Then only Michael stands before me, and I can’t yet tell how I feel about him. “Good-bye,” I say finally, unable to think of anything else.
He nods. “Benji,” he says. He turns to Cal. “I hope you don’t live to regret this.”
Cal leans over and kisses my forehead as I help him to his feet, then rubs his nose against my scalp. “Even if I do,” he says, his lips against my skin, “I will remember this moment, because this moment will have made it all worth it.”
“I’m sure it will,” Michael says slowly. He turns and walks back to his brothers, and then he looks out at the crowd. “Keep him safe,” he calls out gruffly. “Or you’ll answer to me.”
And with that, the world explodes in color, and the angels are gone.
Silence falls over the church again as everyone seems to hold their breath at once.
It is Nina (always and forever Nina) who speaks first. “This has been the strangest start to a summer I’ve ever seen,” she says, looking around. “I wonder what will happen next year?”
And with that, the dam breaks and the crowd surges up to me and Cal, and there is love, and there are tears. There is laughter, handshakes, and hugs. There are moments of breathtaking joy. These are my people. This is my town. This is my home. And for the first time in a very long time, it feels complete once more.
the sunrise
It takes us a while to escape the throngs of people who want nothing more than
to hear our words, to touch Cal and welcome him home. They want him to know they’ll protect his secret until the very end. They want him to know they love him. They want him to know he’ll always be welcome in our little town. They kiss him and me over and over again.
My mother, Mary, and Nina are the last. Mom pulls down the neck of the scrubs I wear, trying to find the bullet wound on my chest. It’s gone. She pulls the bandages off Cal’s chest and stomach (taking a quite a bit of hair with it, if his yelp is any indication) and his wounds are gone as well. “I don’t…,” she says, shaking her head and taking a step back. “Why does this all feel like a dream?”