Parallel Lines- *RAYOR*

Chapter 23

That I want to be there at his highest, and lowest. That I want to be with him when he dies, and I want to be with him when he wakes up. That I want to be with Gabriel every step of the way.

I leave Father and Gabriel together. He sits at his bedside, holding his hand as the red line creeps closer and closer to wakefulness. My face is wet. Levy and Nicco are long gone, gone home. Aster took them there, then came back to wait outside. He knows that some things must be done in private.

We go out. I know Arielle has gone to her duties as an angel now. I don't know where I'm going as I fly through darkness, but Aster pulls me in a direction and I oblige. We're in a cool American evening, and stars are popping up around us.

Aster starts walking, but slowly. He knows I need to collect my thoughts. The cool air clears my thoughts, and I mentally arrange them. Gabriel will live, he will wake up. I don't know how he pulled through, but he did it- and I realise, now, he has broken that barrier between reaper and human. He doesn't need to reap, but he is immortal. And powerful. Maybe even as powerful as Death.

"He pulled through," says Aster finally. I can see the relief in his eyes, in his voice, even though it has been at least an hour since then. His voice is hoarse from crying. I had cried too, and I still felt dizzy from it. It wasn't a sensation I was accustomed to.

I nod, still shell-shocked by our change in fate.

But in a good way.

"It was horrible. Seeing him there," I say. I pause, gathering my thoughts. "Death said he would wake in a few hours."

"I know." And I know that Aster understands. That I want to be there at his highest, and lowest. That I want to be with him when he dies, and I want to be with him when he wakes up. That I want to be with Gabriel every step of the way.

"Let's have some fun," says Aster innocently, and I nudge him, rolling my eyes. The night is getting colder, but I prefer it that way.

I can hear a drinking song wafting out of a pub along with a warm, sour stench of beer. Knowing my past experience with pubs, I veer away, but crash into a broad-shouldered guy to my right. From what I can tell, he isn't drunk, but he is pissed.

He starts to berate me in German. I'm offended, because I can understand enough for a rough picture. I cross my arms. I'm still shaking from the shock of almost losing my brother and I'm hiccupping because of how cold it is.

"We should go," says Aster.

"Es tut mir leid," I mutter to the guy. He spits at my feet.

I stare, first at the saliva, then up at him, heat rising in my face both from the humiliation and anger. I weigh my chances of a drastic injury, his strength against my speed, and I can see he's pondering the same thing. I'm about to banish his soul into next Tuesday when something in my peripheral vision stops me. A vaporous form, almost like a spirit or ghost.

Or angel.

Arielle's hazy form, invisible to the man or the others drunkenly clustered around the outside of the pub, whispers into the man's ear. His shoulders relax. He huffs out an insult and turns on his heel, stomping away.

Arielle grins at me. Her form flickers and I can almost see a six-year-old grinning gappily at me. I smile back, softly. It feels nice to be happy about something, especially after Willow. It doesn't mean I'm not sad about it. It doesn't mean it hurts any less.

I look to the horizon, the black, jagged outlines of houses against the dark sky, the moon hanging over them and gilding the rooftops with silver. Aster by my side. Arielle looking out for me.

It isn't a happy ending, but it's a start.