The Angels Friend

Final visit

Every trip costed Nancy her strength. This time she had trouble keeping her consciousness as much as standing upright. This meant that she could only make one more trip. A second trip would require weeks of regeneration and even after that... She still wouldn't have the strength to defend him.

Alright then, as soon as she saw what she's here for, she'd go back to where it all began. So one last trip left without getting noticed by-

Nancy took a sharp breath. Miles stood there completely immobile, unsure if what is happening is real. It took a few seconds but Miles smiled widely coming towards Nancy with no doubts. She let herself get enveloped by his hug.

"I thought you didn't like hugs." She sniffed, a little surprised to hear herself like this.

"Shut up." It's been ages since Miles was this happy and every second tortured Nancy because she'd have take it all away from him.
Again.

"Miles I.." Nancy pulled away and fighting hard to keep her voice steady she tried again. "I have to go, but you're going to be okay."

"What are you talking about? You just came back, oh god please don't leave."

"That night... I died in the fight. It's already happened Miles. Don't make it harder than it already is."

The look of horror and desperation she got in return broke her heart.

"No. Just stay here. Please."

"But then you'll die!" Nancy replied desperately.

"Then let me die!" Miles instantly felt the weight of his words hit her. It was a lot to say but those last 6 months since he saw Narcariel's dead body against a tree hasn't exactly been easy.

Nancy made a step towards Miles not trusting her voice, but even that was too much and her legs refused to cooperate. She tripped and ended up supporting herself with her arms, hands against the sticks and leaves of the edge of the forest. She looked up at him with a new scratch under her eye. Miles kneeled in front of her, face not hiding his worry. Her fingers reached for the scratch, it was probably one of the branches from the surrounding bushes. The exact same scratch that her dead body had. She looked down at herself and everything matched.

The black coat, dry and a little dirty from the fall.

The fresh cut right under her eye.

The list of-

Nancy reached for the list stowed away in her pocket. Everything except the paper, because the one she had was no longer readable after the rain. Miles looked at the paper Nancy just took out of her pocket with recognition and slowly took out his own neatly folded list of dates and places.

"I wrote down a list... Moments where I really wished you were here." Miles whispered with surprise looking at the paper Nancy held.

"Miles please give it to me." Nancy said a bit harsher then intended.

"No. Why? You'll leave as soon as you get it won't you?" Mikes said with a hint of betrayal in his voice.

"I'll leave either way Miles... Just please pass me the paper."

Miles held the paper protectively, convinced  its the only thing keeping his friend here.

Nancy looked at Miles, and unable to do anything else she hugged him. Unsure what to make of this he hugged her back. It was surprisingly comforting for her, especially when the hug covered her completely like a protective barrier from the rest of the world. She didn't cry though, just collected her breathing, her face hidden against the soft sweatshirt he wore.

"Please don't." Miles whispered, this feeling of helplessness slowly eating him away.

Nancy took a deep breath and looked at him again. She tilted her head a bit and smiled sadly. Fear shot through Miles.

"I'm sorry."

Miles stared at the empty space she left behind. The small breeze of her departure ruffled his hair gently. He felt a nauseating pain in his chest and a big urge to throw himself off the nearest cliff, but he couldn't. He couldn't because she just gave her life for him... and now he needed to live it. He owed her that.

Crying would've been healthy at this point, but Miles neither cried nor truthfully smiled for the next week. At least he thought it was a week. Time was becoming a blur to him. He was reliving the worst moments of his life all over again. Every night he thought of things he should've said, kept replaying that scene. Replaying it until the crack of dawn. Cursing himself for not knowing the words that would've got her to stay. Hating himself for not saying the words that would've gotten her to stay.

It was November but he wore short sleeves. 

All the food tasted the same and he found it difficult to eat.

He had stopped participating in class, no longer aware of what is happening during lessons anyways.

The fifth empty cup of coffee on his desk taunted him.

No one noticed anything though, it was like his life as a child found a way to torture him again, but this time he didn't pray to any angel.