Crow. | Angeless [C]

Chapter 27 | War Stories

          I stayed by Chris' side every second I could. From time to time, I got up to go to the bathroom or to get tea. Other than that, I was laying in that bed beside him. I preoccupied my time with a book while he slept. In dreamland was really the only place he couldn't feel pain or discomfort. Luckily, having a bad heart valve isn't overly painful. It's mostly just shortness of breath but it can lead to extreme complications, even death.

          That's why I talked him into the surgery. Every morning I wake up next to him, I feel at peace. It's the best part of my day, along with falling asleep in his arms. To think that there would be a possibility that one morning I wake up and he doesn't... Well, that's got to be my biggest new found fear. It's more than the simple word "fear" can express. It's fucking terrifying to think about.

          I'll be damned if he doesn't see another five hundred years. I made it a thousand, no excuse he can't either. Things might be on a thin wire right now but they're going to turn around. They have to. Nothing bad lasts forever. I'm only scared that what will bring an end to the sorrow could be something much worse than the pain we're currently in. I'm not just talking about Chris.

          What about Ricky and Ghost? I can't help but feel responsible for what happened. The angel in me wants to make it right. My head is telling me I'll just fuck it up worse if I try to step in. It's best if I just let them work their issues out on their own. How the fuck are they supposed to work it out if they're in separate realms? They supposedly have telepathy when they're extremely far away from each other. Maybe they have been talking? I highly doubt it.

          They can't break up. They've been together longer than any couple I know. Their minds are programmed on very old traditions, despite how non-conforming they may be. I'm sure they were taught that divorce isn't the way. Most people in the olden days would rather kill themselves than get divorced. I'm still not sure why they saw it as such an awful thing though. Regardless, I'd like to hope that Ricky and Ghost take into consideration how many good years they've had. This is just a small misstep. In all those years, I'm sure they've had worse arguments.

          "So," Chris spoke just above a whisper, "Do I get to know what's wrong with Romeo and Juliet?"

          I snickered as I lowered my tea cup from lips, "Why do you call them that?"

          Closing my book, I set it on the nightstand beside me. Though mine laid empty, Chris' was cluttered with pill bottles. Not the orange and white ones you'd see on Earth. These were old school glass bottles and pill boxes. Their medicine was just as up to date here, if not more advanced, than Earth. Yet they still prefer to keep some of the older traditions, like glass pill bottles. Maybe it's for a sense of aesthetic, considering how vane dark creatures can be.

          He sat up a little more, being cautious of the IV in his hand. I readjusted his pillow behind him as he leaned back against the headboard. Chris glanced to me, giving me that tired smile that still was so beautiful.

          "They may not be forbidden from loving each other, but they'd definitely die for one another." He responded.

          I sighed, "Unfortunately, I think what happened is more my fault than it is theirs. They may have been keeping secrets from each other, but it's my fault they had to come out the way they did. Ricky has a type of supernatural connection to their kids that he can feel their physical pain. Ghost feels their emotional pain. Ricky was the only one that knew though. He never told Ghost because he didn't want him to worry, but it also made Ghost think that his extreme mood swings had no base other than he was mentally unstable.