Angel Burn

BURSTING INTO THE CATHEDRAL, Sirius had seen a blue-robed figure that had to be Remus running toward the gate while a girl screamed.

He pounded forward; his only thought was to get next to Remus as he reached the gate, to put his arms around him and hold him so that he wouldn’t die alone.

Sirius had a blurred impression of a commotion going on to one side: a greasy-haired guy in a gray suit, struggling with someone who looked like a preacher; a cluster of shrieking robed people.

Before he reached the lighted area, Remus stopped short, staring upward.

Angels.

Stopping, too, Sirius quickly drew his gun with the silencer on it and sped through his chakra points.

Three angels swam into view: Remus's own, dodging around a male angel, and higher up, a female angel with a hard, beautiful face, diving straight at Remus's human form.

Sirius dropped to one knee, tracked the female, and shot.

She vanished into scattered pieces of radiance.

In the audience, people were shouting Remus's name, thumping against the plastic barrier as they tried to break it down.

As Sirius burst into the lit area, Frank appeared in his angel form, his wings beating strongly as he attacked the first angel.

At the same time Remus's angel dove toward his human form and Remus lunged the final few steps; reaching the gate, he shoved his hands in it.

The energy warped, leaping wildly — Sirius glimpsed angels waiting to come through.

The floor near the gate lurched upward, sending Remus slipping sideways.

Nearing Remus, Sirius almost lost his footing as the floor seethed under his feet; he regained himself and sprinted toward Remus.

“Remus!” he shouted.

The gate exploded open.

A wave of energy slammed past in a blinding flash.

Crying out, Sirius shielded his eyes with his forearm.

A confused image: the two angels tumbling, fragmenting into pieces — and Remus, thrown with the blast.

There was a wrenching, groaning noise, a crash of dust and cement as a section of the ceiling fell, shattering only a few feet from the huddle of robed girls.

Screams.

With a spray of spitting sparks, the lights went out.

The entire front area fell into shadow, lit only by the dying sunset through the stained-glass windows.

As if on cue, hordes of angels began soaring through the open gate and out over the pews, wings and halos shining, glimpses of their own world’s fading sunset just visible through the open gate behind them.

A solid wall of sound cracked through the cathedral as the audience began cheering.

The people in the first few pews were all staring upward, jumping up and down, Remus completely forgotten as they took in the celestial river flowing overhead.

It had all happened in seconds.

Remus.

Oh, God, where was Remus?

Sirius's consciousness was still hovering above his crown chakra, and in the sudden gloom around him he saw people’s auras come sharply into view, the colored energy fields pulsing with excitement as everyone stared upward.

He scanned the front area hurriedly, fear building in him when he couldn’t find Remus.

And then, faintly, he spotted Remus's aura — a silver-and-lavender flutter off to one side, away from the others.

Sirius plunged through the shadows, stumbling and almost falling on the uneven floor.

Finally he reached Remus.

He was lying on his back, his face turned away from Sirius.

“Remus!” Sirius dropped to his knees and gathered him up in his arms. “Remus, please be all right — please, please —”

Remus's head dropped back.

He lay unmoving against Sirius, his aura dim, growing dimmer.

Sirius felt his heart die in his chest as he stared down at Remus's familiar features.

No. Oh Jesus, no.

Behind him the crowds continued to cheer, their shouts reverberating through the cathedral like thunder.

There was a sudden shimmering — and as Sirius looked up he saw that Remus's angel had appeared over him, so pale that he could hardly be seen.

He motioned to Remus and then to Sirius, his eyes pleading . . . and then faded from view.

What had he been trying to tell Sirius? What?

Sirius gazed down at the prone boy in his arms, his pulse thudding.

Remus's aura was scarcely visible now, the barest flicker of light.

He hesitated.

Not quite knowing why he was doing it, he placed his hand on Remus's heart and closed his eyes.

Please, take my strength, he thought.

Whatever I have, take it. . . . Just please live. Please, you’ve got to live. . . .

Desperately, Sirius tried to picture his strength and his love for Remus flowing into him, helping him, finding him and bringing him back from wherever he was going.

Sirius wasn’t sure how much time passed — he could hear the angels flying overhead; the cheers still sounding.

Remus's body in his arms remained motionless.

Finally, dreading what he might see, Sirius opened his eyes.

Remus's aura was gone.

Pain struck him like a blow. “No! Please, no . . . ”

Remus blurred in his vision as he clutched Remus to him, burying his face against his shoulder.

The softness of his skin, the smell of his hair.

Sirius began to shake, holding him.

He’d been too late.

Remus had gone to his death alone, without even knowing he was there.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. He kissed Remus's unmoving lips; they were still warm. “Remus . . . oh, Remus. . . ”

A deadening weakness started slumping through his muscles, draining them so that it was all he could do to keep his arms around Remus.

Then a quick, wrenching pain, like something being torn away from him.

His head reeled; he wondered vaguely if an angel had ripped his life force away.

For he could feel his own life fading now, slipping away like water down a drain.

As he held Remus's still form, dull relief filled him at the thought.

A swirling of light above them; faint silver and lavender mixed with vibrant blue and gold.

Sirius looked up in confusion as the lights moved together over him and Remus like twin plumes of smoke.

The silver light was ghostly, barely visible.

As he watched, the blue light wrapped itself around it, stroking it, caressing it.

The blue-and-gold aura paled as the silver-and-lavender one began to brighten; Sirius had an impression of strength pouring from one aura to the other.

At last the silver light was steady, its lavender hues gleaming.

Sirius's aura drew itself back to him, faint but already starting to recover.

He felt his life force return in a rush.

The silver-and-lavender aura settled around Remus, unwavering now, and growing brighter by the second.

An agony of hope roared through Sirius as he stared down at Remus in his arms.

He touched Remus's cheek, not daring to breathe. “Remus?”

At first there was nothing . . . and then his green eyes came slowly open.

He stared up at Sirius, looking dazed.

“Sirius?” He whispered. “Is it really you?”

Sirius felt a jolt of joy so great that it was almost pain.

He cradled Remus to him. “It’s me, baby,” he said hoarsely, his lips moving against Remus's hair. “It’s me.”

Remus's arms came up around him; he pressed his face into Sirius's shoulder with a weak sob. “Sirius . . . you’re here, you’re really here. . . .”

Pulling back, Sirius stroked a stray strand of hair from his temple, scanning his face in the shadowy light.

“Are you all right? Please, please tell me you’re OK.”

Remus gulped, nodded. “I think so. I’m just so tired. . . .”

Thankfulness drenched through him like water.

He held Remus closely, kissing his hair, his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Oh, God, Remus, I didn’t mean it — I didn’t mean any of it —”

Remus's embrace tightened around his neck. “I know. . . . Sirius, I know. . . .”

For a moment he savored just holding Remus, warm and alive in his arms.

Urgency followed; they had to get the hell out of here.

He glanced back over his shoulder.

Angels still hadn’t stopped soaring from the gate; the entire length of the cathedral was a winged river as they flew over the pews and then finally out through the massive doors at the far side.

The crowd’s cheers had become somewhat ragged, but were still going strong.

Frank had said that it would take around twenty minutes for all the angels to arrive.

How much time had already passed?

“Come on, we’ve got to hurry.”

With a quick kiss, he scooped Remus into his arms and stood up, feverishly grateful that the front area was still cloaked in shadow.

He started toward the double doors he’d come through, picking his way as fast as he could across the uneven floor.

When the doors were only a few dozen steps away, Remus tensed against his shoulder. “Sirius!”

He whirled around; the angel he’d seen fighting Frank earlier was diving through the air toward them, wings outspread, its beautiful face set in a snarl.

Sirius grabbed his gun and set Remus's feet on the floor in almost the same motion, keeping one arm around him.

The angel landed about ten feet away, and with a dark ripple changed to its human form: a handsome, slender man with pale skin and coal-black hair.

“The half angel and his assassin,” he said in a low, deadly voice that somehow carried over the noise. “And it appears that I was the culprit, somehow. Hope, correct?”

Sirius stiffened at the man’s English accent.

It was the same angel who’d ordered Remus's death.

He felt Remus take a quick breath and suddenly remembered that his mother’s name was Hope.

Jesus, it was him. Remus's father.

“Don’t say her name,” whispered Remus. “You have no right . . . ”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” said the angel. “Why, this is quite historic, isn’t it? The only half angel in existence . . . now, how did I manage that? I wonder.”

He stared hard at Remus.

Behind him, now almost half the length of the cathedral away, the stream of arriving angels continued to fly, shining, overhead.

Holding Remus close, Sirius kept his gun pointed at the angel.

“I thought you died in the blast,” he said coldly.

“Wouldn’t that have been convenient?” replied the angel with a sneer. “But no, it was only the traitor who died — I was merely a bit dazed.” Eyes narrowing, he took a step forward.

“Get back, or you’ll regret it,” said Sirius.

The angel curled his lip. “I think not, actually. It’s time now for you both to die, the way you were supposed to in the first place.”

Shifting back into his angel form, he surged straight toward them, wings flashing.

Sirius shot.

The angel dodged at the last second, his wings slicing the air, and the bullet caught the very edge of his halo.

Its blue-white energy rippled, hesitated.

Hovering above, the angel writhed as tremors seized him, his wings flapping like a giant trapped bird’s.

Before Sirius could shoot again, the angel went still and collapsed to the floor, in his human form once more.

He lay unmoving.

Remus stared down at him; he seemed almost ready to drop. “Sirius, he . . . that was . . . ”

“Shhh, I know,” he said, picking Remus up again. He slumped against Sirius's shoulder, his arms tight around his neck.

Fleetingly, Sirius wished the creature was human — he’d have no compunction at all about peppering that prone body with bullets.

But there was no point; the only way to kill an angel was to shoot it through its halo heart.

At least this one would be out of action for a while.

With a glance back at the arriving angels, Sirius headed for the doors with Remus cradled in his arms.

Please, he thought, just a few more minutes, and we’ll be out of here.

Just a few more minutes. That’s all they needed.

~~~~~~~

When the Second Wave of angels first began pouring out of the gate, Severus had stood frozen, gaping above him.

It hadn’t worked.

After all of their planning, after everything he’d risked — he’d lost it all, and the angels had arrived anyway.

Beautiful face after beautiful face flashed past — and soon they would all be hungry and feeding.

Severus shuddered, dizzy with dismay.

His cheekbone throbbed where the preacher had punched him.

The front section of the cathedral was still in shadow; Severus could just make out the preacher a few steps away, loudly applauding the new arrivals.

Emmeline and another acolyte had their arms around each other’s shoulders, their faces alight.

Behind them, the crowd had forgotten all about crashing through the barrier to get to Remus.

People were throwing their hats in the air, calling out to the angels to bless them, laughing and crying.

Severus didn’t know how long he simply stared upward at the arriving angels, wondering what he was supposed to do now.

Then, at the corner of his vision, he saw a brief sliver of light from the far end of the cathedral.

Glancing over, he saw a dark-haired figure carrying a boy disappear through the double doors.

Severus stared as he recognized the boy.

Remus.

Was he still alive — or not?

Then Severus realized that he had to get out as well.

Tom knew now that Severus had betrayed him; he had lied about Remus's death, and the angel must have noticed him shouting at the crowd, holding the preacher back.

During all the confusion, Tom had vanished, obviously retreating to his divine form; so far the angel hadn’t reappeared.

What would he do to Severus when he did?

For that matter, what would the church members do when this was over?

Severus turned and ran through the darkness, stumbling across the uneven floor.

Near the barrier, he saw the security guard gaping upward and veered away from him.

As he neared the doors, he jerked back with a gasp, his brown eyes widening.

There was a dark shape lying in the shadows: Tom, sprawled unmoving in his human form.

Shock reeled through Severus, along with a sick relief.

Could Tom be dead?

He couldn’t tell; he wasn’t about to touch him to find out.

Edging around the prone figure, he sprinted the final few steps.

He pushed through the doors; the lights back here were making a humming noise, flickering on and off.

The person carrying Remus was already halfway down the long corridor, disappearing fast.

Severus ran after him, suddenly desperate to know whether the boy was all right or not.

He caught up with them just as they reached the outside door.

“Hey —” he started, and then sucked in his breath as the dark-haired youth whirled on him, clutching Remus to his chest with one arm and holding a gun on Severus with the other.

“I seriously don’t think you want to try and stop me,” he said in a low voice.

Severus felt the blood leave his face. “No, I — I’m sorry. I just —”

In a daze, he saw that the guy was younger than he was.

Remus had his arms around the guy's neck, his head against his shoulder.

At the sound of voices, he tiredly opened his eyes; his gaze and Severus's met.

“Sirius, he helped,” he murmured.

Sirius?

Severus gaped at him.

Of course, it was the assassin.

He was here.

At Remus's words, Sirius seemed to relax a fraction.

He lowered the gun, and Severus let out a breath.

“You’re the contact,” stated Sirius.

Severus nodded. “You’re . . . the assassin.”

Sirius didn’t respond; his eyes flicked down the long corridor behind Severus.

“You’d better get out of here, too; they’ll kill you when this is over.” He put his other arm under Remus, then shoved through the door and was gone.

Severus glanced behind him.

He could still hear the sound of distant cheers, but for how long?

Pushing the door open, he stepped out into the fading sunset.

At the edge of the nearby parking lot, Sirius and Remus were standing beside a motorcycle.

Sirius had just helped Remus out of his silver blue robe.

He dropped it to the ground and seemed to be asking Remus something; he nodded as he looked at the motorcycle.

Abruptly, he bent down and kissed Remus, gripping his face in his hands.

Severus ducked his head away, not wanting to spy on their private moment.

When he looked again, Sirius was helping Remus put on a helmet; then he quickly straddled the bike and Remus got on behind him, wrapping his arms around Sirius's chest.

At the sight of them preparing to leave, Severus remembered something, and his heart chilled.

“Wait!” he called, running over.

Sirius was already revving the engine; he glanced over a shoulder.

“Tom,” panted Severus, reaching them. “Is he dead?”

“The angel?” Sirius shook his head. “No, he’s just knocked out. He’ll be out of commission for a few days, but he’ll be fine. Unfortunately.”

Remus's face was pale and drawn. “Thank you for helping, Severus,” he said. “I wish . . . ” His voice trailed off.

“Yeah,” mumbled Severus.

He’d been stunned to see Remus face-to-face at last — in his mind he’d built him up to be some kind of super-boy.

Instead he was diminutive, and had been so gravely frightened and self-composed that Severus had just felt ashamed of his own terror.

Now he looked back at the door, trying not to panic. “What will you do now?”

He meant, What will I do now? but he couldn’t say the words.

Sirius lifted a muscular shoulder, and Severus sensed his impatience to leave. “Getting away sounds like a pretty good plan. What about you? Have you got a car or something?”

Severus nodded. “In the employee parking lot, just around the side.”

A humorless smile crossed Sirius's tired features. “You’d better use it,” he said. “I don’t think you’re going to be working for the angels anymore.”

“Take care, Severus,” said Remus weakly, and then Sirius kicked the clutch, and they were gone, roaring off down the road.

Severus stood watching until they had vanished from sight and he couldn’t hear the engine anymore.

Or anything else. The sound of cheering had stopped.

Severus licked his lips, frozen where he stood.

He hadn’t expected this.

He had thought that the destruction of the gate would kill him along with everyone else nearby, and on some level, he had wanted it that way.

What was his life going to be like now, without the one shining, beautiful thing that had been his — the knowledge of the angels and how they were here to help humanity?

Miserably, he thought that if he had any courage, he’d go back inside and let the crowd do to him what they would.

But he didn’t have courage. That was the problem; it always had been.

Then, softly, a memory came to him: his angel, the first he had ever seen, flying toward him on the campus in a glory of wings and light.

Don’t be afraid. I have something to give you.

She had helped him.

He hadn’t imagined it.

He had had courage; because of her, he had managed to change his whole life.

If he could just hold on to that — the knowledge that there really were angels who were good and kind, regardless of the rest, maybe that would give him the courage he needed now to go on living.

Glancing anxiously at the doors, Severus took off at a run, heading for the employee parking lot.

~~~~~~

The service road led them back to the highway, where Sirius saw long lines of cars still creeping along on the other side, caught in gridlock.

Heading away from the cathedral, there was hardly any traffic at all.

As dusk fell, he switched on the headlight and headed south, feeling the wind lashing at his hair and T-shirt.

Occasionally he put his hand on Remus's arms around his chest, just to reassure himself that he was really there.

Sirius would have preferred to put a thousand miles between them and the church, but it wasn’t happening tonight.

He could feel tiredness overtaking him, like a dark undertow pulling at his skull.

He drove for as long as he dared, taking them to a town called Trinidad, in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in the southern part of the state.

He stopped at the first motel he came to, sweeping into the parking lot and idling to a stop.

His muscles stiff from the cold mountain air, he helped Remus off the bike.

In the glow of the streetlights, he was pale and wide-eyed as he pulled the helmet off, clearly as exhausted as Sirius was.

He had never been more beautiful.

For a moment they just stood in the parking lot gazing at each other, drinking each other in.

Sirius thought that he’d never get enough of simply looking at Remus from now on, not if they both lived to be a hundred.

The dark bulk of the mountains rose up in the background, and a single car passed by on the quiet late-night street.

He touched Remus's face; Remus put his hand over Sirius's, rubbing his cheek against the palm.

Bending his head, Sirius kissed him slowly, savoring the softness of his lips, the warmth of him.

He was alive.

Somehow, somehow, Sirius still had him.

With a soft sigh, Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius's waist and leaned against him.

Sirius held him, dropping his cheek to his hair and stroking his back.

He kept his arm around Remus's shoulders as they went inside, and Remus almost fell asleep as he was checking in, slumped wearily against his chest.

He wasn’t much more awake himself.

On the way to their room, Remus staggered and Sirius picked him up, carrying him down the hallway.

Shifting Remus in his arms, he managed to unlock the door and get them both inside, leaning to shut it behind him.

He turned on the lights with his shoulder.

Lying Remus down on the bed, Sirius stretched out beside him.

Remus cuddled against him, and Sirius drew him close, shaping their bodies together.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep just yet — the lights were still on; they were both fully dressed — but when he opened his eyes again, it felt like several hours had passed.

Rousing himself, he gently undid Remus's hair, taking the pins out and running his fingers through it twice.

Remus blinked drowsily, only half waking.

He helped Remus off with his shoes and sweater, his jeans.

Stripping off his own jeans and T-shirt, he turned the lights out and got them both under the covers.

Remus nestled against him.

He smoothed his hair across the pillow, feeling its softness.

In a few moments Remus fell asleep again, his breathing warm and regular against Sirius's chest.

Sirius kissed his head, his arms tightening around Remus.

As he drifted back to sleep himself, he saw a brief flash of the thousands of angels streaming in, but right then it seemed distant, almost unimportant.

The only thing that mattered was that he was lying in a bed holding Remus, their bare legs entwined.

It was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

~~~~~~

Remus woke up in a soft bed, hearing Sirius's voice.

He opened his eyes slowly.

They were in a motel room, shadowy with the curtains drawn, and Sirius was sitting on the edge of the bed talking to someone on the phone.

Remus lay gazing at the firm lines of his back, feeling a joy so deep that there were no words for it.

It hadn’t been a dream; he had really come.

They were really together again.

He hung up and slid back under the covers, his arms wrapping around Remus, drawing him close.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, kissing Remus's temple.

Remus nodded and snuggled tightly against him.

“Who was that?” Remus whispered against his shoulder.

“I got the room for another night,” he said, rubbing Remus's arm.

His head was on the pillow, his eyes closed. “I don’t even want to move today; I just want to lie here and hold you.”

They both nodded off again.

When they woke up, it was midafternoon and the sunshine angling in around the curtains was bright and strong.

For a long time, they just lay in bed talking, describing what had happened since they'd been apart.

Sirius's expression hardened when Remus told him about Alice leaving. “OK, so she’s in a safe location now, and she just left you there. Got it”

Remus sighed. “I understand, I guess . . . it just made me realize how much they really expected me to die.”

And Frank had died.

Remus remembered Tom's sneering reference to “the traitor” and felt a pang for the angel who’d believed so strongly that his kind didn’t have the right to destroy humanity.

Remus played with the edge of the sheet, looking down. “Sirius, I can’t believe that Tom is my . . . ”

He stopped; he couldn’t say the word.

“Only biologically,” Sirius said. “Remus, he’s got nothing to do with you. He never did; it doesn’t matter who he is.”

The sheet was as white as an angel’s wings.

Remus let go of it.

“I know you’re right. It’s just strange, now that I’ve seen him with my own eyes. And to realize that he knows who I am, too. I really wish he didn’t.”

“Yeah,” said Sirius curtly. “And I wish I hadn’t missed his halo.”

Remus couldn’t actually wish for Tom's death, no matter how much Remus hated him — but he wouldn’t have been heartbroken if Sirius had succeeded.

He sat up against his pillows, hugging his knees as he remembered the thousands of angels he'd seen above Sirius's head when he first opened his eyes.

“I — I wonder what went wrong,” Remus said. “Whether it’s that the angelica would never have worked after all, or if I just got to the gate too late once Emmeline started screaming?”

“I don’t know,” said Sirius.

There was a long pause as he glided his hand up and down Remus's arm.

Finally he said, “Pretty soon, I know that I’m really going to hate the fact that there are more angels in the world . . . but right now, all I feel is so incredibly glad that you’re still alive.”

Remus gave a small nod. “I know. I wish I’d been able to stop it, but I can’t be sorry to be alive — and to be with you.”

Remus studied his blue-gray eyes, so startling under their black lashes. “Sirius, that’s all I ever want — just to be with you.”

He fingered a strand of Remus's hair.

“Don’t worry; you will be,” he said softly.

Their gazes met, and Remus's heart went tight at the look on his face.

Though they were barely touching, it somehow felt deeper than any kiss they'd ever shared.

When Sirius described how he’d gotten to Denver and what had happened at the cathedral, he kept it short, his tone almost terse — but Remus got the idea.

“Oh, Sirius. . . ” Remus touched his cheek, unable to say anything else.

The thought of Sirius holding him, believing he was dead . . .

Letting out a breath, he reached up and squeezed Remus's hand, his eyes never leaving mine.

“All that matters is that you’re alive,” he said. “I’d go through it a hundred times again to have you.”

A faint, dreamlike memory came back.

Remus shook his head in wonder. “I remember it. . . . I could feel myself going, sort of drifting down a long hallway. And then you were there, bringing me back. It was like you were pulling on me, tugging me . . . ”

Wordlessly, Sirius kissed his palm.

Remus stared at him, remembering the incredulous joy that had flooded through him when he first opened his eyes and saw Sirius.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Remus whispered.

He traced a finger down Remus's face as if he was memorizing it. “Five minutes after you left, I was in the truck,” he said roughly. “I knew I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. Everything I said, the way I acted . . . letting you go alone —” His jaw tensed. “Can you forgive me?”

Remus felt tears come to his eyes. “Sirius, you don’t even have to ask me that.”

“Yes, I do,” he said. “I should be down on my knees, asking.”

“No! I know what you were going through. . . .”

His eyes stayed on Remus's, unwavering.

His throat constricted.

“Of course I forgive you. Don’t even mention it again.”

Closing his eyes with a sigh, Sirius drew him into his arms. “From the second you left, all I could I think of was getting to Denver in time, so I could be there with you, holding you. . . . Remus, if you had died, I wouldn’t have wanted to live, either.”

“I know,” Remus murmured against his shoulder. “I feel the same way. Flying away from you was . . . awful, so awful. Sirius, I’m sorry, too, but I had to do it. I had to at least try —”

He pulled away. “Don’t apologize! Of course you had to try. I knew that; I just couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. And then when I got to the church and thought I was too late. . . .”

He fell silent.

Remus could feel his tension; it was coming off him in great waves.

Finally he swallowed and said, “I thought — I thought you were going to die, and that it would be like Regulus.”

The muscles in his arms were rigid.

Remus hesitated, not sure whether to ask — but it was something that had been bothering Sirius for so, so long.

“Sirius. . . how did he die?”

At first Remus thought he wasn’t going to answer; then he looked down and cleared his throat.

“We, um — we were on a hunt in Los Angeles,” he said. “Regulus and I would play this game sometimes, where one of us lured an angel in and the other shot it. We weren’t supposed to put ourselves at risk like that; Peter would have killed us if he’d known. Anyway, we were right beside one of the canyons above the city, and Reg was the lure. And . . . the angel went for him, and I shot it — and then I went over to Reg, and we sort of — high-fived, you know. . . .”

He stopped, and Remus had another flash of the dark-haired boy with Sirius's eyes, sitting on a wall beside a canyon.

He was grinning, lifting his hand.

Good one, bro. She didn’t even see it coming.

Remus could feel Sirius's dread just remembering this, and Remus wished he hadn’t asked.

Remus kissed his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s all right.” Sirius took an uneven breath. “Um . . . so basically, there was another angel — they’d been hunting in a pair. I didn’t scan again before I put my gun away; I didn’t even see it. It came flying out of nowhere at us, and Regulus jerked backward — and I managed to get the angel, but Regulus had fallen. . . .”

Sirius trailed off and Remus's heart twisted; he'd never seen Sirius look so young, so vulnerable.

Fighting tears, Remus hugged him as hard as he could and felt his arms tighten.

“It was my fault,” he got out. “He trusted me, and I let him down. We got him to the hospital, but it was too late; he was too —”

He stopped.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Remus said. “Sirius, the same thing might have happened if Regulus had been holding the gun. It was just a mistake; it could have happened to anyone.”

When Sirius spoke, his voice sounded flat, weary. “You can’t make mistakes on a hunt. Not like that.”

Remus drew back, looking into his eyes.

“All right,” he said. “But if it had happened that way, if it had been Regulus who’d made the mistake — would you forgive him?”

Sirius stared at him without answering. Remus saw his throat move.

“Sirius, you know you would,” Remus said, stroking his tattoo. “So please, forgive yourself, OK? Please.”

Remus kissed his cheeks, his brow, his mouth.

He sat very still as Remus peppered him with kisses, as if he was hardly breathing.

Slowly, Remus felt the tension in him ease.

Catching Remus's head in his hands, Sirius gazed at him; neither of them moved for a moment.

“I love you,” he said.

The words didn’t seem like enough, but they were all Remus had. “I love you, too. I love you so much, Sirius.”

He kissed Remus, so gently at first that Remus melted.

He pressed close against Sirius as the kiss deepened, curling his arms around Sirius's neck and tumbling into pure sensation.

The softness of his hair as Remus ran his fingers through it; his warm hands on Remus's skin, caressing. It felt so, so good.

Remus had been afraid that he'd never have this again — this sense of being so achingly alive that every nerve ending was on fire.

When they finally came up for air, they were lying facing each other, both of them smiling.

Sirius touched Remus's eyebrow, lightly sketching its curve.

Under the covers, Remus's foot was against his bare leg; he tickled his toes up Sirius's calf.

From outside Remus could hear the faint drone of traffic, a bird singing.

Then he thought of something not so funny and almost laughed.

“So . . . I guess we don’t really have any clothes, do we? Except what we had on yesterday. We don’t have much of anything else, either.”

Sirius shook his head and sat up a little. “No, the truck’s probably been towed by now with all our stuff; we wouldn’t be able to get it back without our names on the registration anyway. My bag’s still at the cabin with our clothes. We could try going up there on the bike, I guess, but . . . ”

“It doesn’t really feel safe there now,” Remus finished, sitting up, too.

“No. It doesn’t to me, either.”

Sadness touched Remus as he thought of the cabin — all the hours that they'd spent talking there, playing cards, holding each other.

But it was only a place; it wasn’t important.

The important thing was being together.

“So what now?” Remus said.

Sirius smoothed Remus's hair away from his face, playing with its strands. “Well, the first thing — the main thing — is that I’m never letting you out of my sight again. Whatever happens from now on, it’s together.”

Remus touched the pendant on his chest, feeling its smooth facets.

“Always,” he said softly.

And joy flooded through him, that they still had a chance at it.

“As for a plan . . . ” Sirius rested his forearms on his knees, his eyebrows drawing together as he thought. “Well, we know that Project Angel still exists — barely. I guess Alice will start it up again, once she gets tired of her safe location.”

Remus pulled his own knees to his chest as he watched Sirius. “Would you want to be involved with her again?”

He snorted. “No. I don’t trust the CIA; I don’t like how they work. What about you?”

Remus shook his head. She hadn’t given him any contact details, anyway, he realized.

She’d been that certain that he was going to die.

Sirius tapped his fingers on his knee.

“To be honest, Mexico still sounds pretty good to me,” he said. “We’re going to need a safe base, and I don’t think we’ll find one in this country anymore. Plus, it’s pretty cheap; I’ve only got about six hundred dollars left. We could find someplace safe down there, and I could try to get some new AKs together, get things started.”

He linked his fingers through Remus's. “How does that sound to you?”

Remus hadn’t wanted to think about this, but he knew he had to ask it.

Gazing down at Sirius's hand in his, he said slowly, “Sirius, do you think that I might still be the one to destroy the angels? I mean, it could happen, even though it didn’t this time. Not that I really want to try again anytime soon, but . . . ”

Remus stopped, knowing that as unspeakably horrible as the last few days had been, he would go through it all again, if it meant that the angels would be destroyed.

He didn’t want to; he hated the thought.

But he would.

Sirius rubbed his thumb against Remus's fingers. “I don’t know,” he said. “But, Remus, if it happens, I’m right there with you.”

Alarm jolted through him. “I don’t want that! Sirius, I’d want you safe —”

Sirius touched his cheek. “Forget it,” he said. “I will never, ever, let you face anything like that alone again.”

Remus's chest clenched.

Moving closer, he leaned against Sirius, hugging his waist.

He wrapped his arms around Remus, and he nestled against Sirius's solid warmth, so grateful that they still had each other.

Finally Remus cleared his throat, trailing a finger along Sirius's forearm.

“Mexico sounds . . . pretty good, actually.”

Sirius pulled away, peering into his face. “Are you sure? We wouldn’t have anything great there, but we should have enough to survive for a couple of months — long enough to get things going, with luck.”

Still stroking his arm, Remus nodded. “I’m sure. Very sure, in fact.”

After these last two days, the thought of just being together — loving each other, spending time together — was like sunshine after rain.

Even knowing what lay ahead, with new angels in the world and Sirius one of the few people who could fight them.

A chill touched Remus as he again saw the shining stream of angels, their wings burning with the sunset as they flew through the cathedral.

“Do you think they’ll realize where we’ve gone?”

Sirius knew exactly who Remus meant, even though he hadn’t said the word. Sirius grimaced.

“Once I get some AKs together and we start hunting them? Yeah, they’ll figure it out. We’ll stay as protected as we can, but . . . ” He stopped.

Their eyes met.

Neither of them spoke.

Remus knew that Sirius felt exactly the same way as him; he could sense it without even trying.

No matter how dangerous the future might be, or how much they simply wanted to live their lives together, not fighting the angels wasn’t an option.

It just wasn’t.

Remus cleared his throat and sat up. “So what will I be doing, while you’re finding new AKs?”

Sirius's dark eyebrows rose in surprise. “Helping me, I hope. Remus, I really need you — you get feelings about things; you can tell just by touching someone what they’re like.” He grinned suddenly.

“Plus you get to be the one to fix the bike if it breaks down.”

Remus laughed. “Psychic consultant slash mechanic . . . yeah, OK, I accept.”

His smile faded as he looked down at the bedspread. “I just wish I could go home and say good-bye to Mom somehow. I mean — not that she’d realize, probably, but . . . ”

Sirius squeezed his hand. “I’d take you there in a second, if it was safe,” he said softly.

“I know.” Remus sighed and shook the thought away.

His Mom was all right; that was the main thing.

And at least he'd be doing something to fight the beings that had hurt her.

“Hey, you can teach me how to speak Spanish,” Remus said after a pause.

Sirius kissed his nose. “What do you want to learn how to say?”

“How about . . . ” Remus gazed at Sirius, taking in his dark hair, the firm lines of his face, and remembered the first time Remus had ever seen him — the way his blue-gray eyes had caught and held him so that he was barely able to look away.

He could barely look away now.

Swallowing hard, Remus touched Sirius's lips with his finger, tracing their outline.

“How about, ‘You make me so happy, and — and all I want is to be with you for the rest of my life’?”

The look in Sirius's eyes was so warm that Remus felt himself falling.

“I’ve already taught you that one, remember?” he said.

Leaning his head down, he kissed Remus, his lips lingering. “Te amo, Remus.”

And somewhere inside of Remus, he knew that his angel was smiling