Warning: Suicidal trigger.

On top of a hill, two men are sitting next to each other in complete silence. There is a mutual understanding between them, none says a word, but they seem to be in a deep conversation.

The winds blow the younger man's dark hair in all directions but he doesn't notice. He sits with an obedient expression across his face, looking straight at the vast grassland and clear sky in front of him.

The older man watches his son thoughtfully, then puts one hand on the younger man's shoulder.

Do you understand now?

I think I do, Father, but I'm not sure that is what you want me to understand.

Michael sounds hesitant, looking at his Father. All of his existence, he seeks love and approval from the One who is sitting next to him. Right now, he feels like a child way out of his depth again.

Doesn't matter, God looks him in the eyes and Michael feels an instant boost of power shot through his whole body. I, no, we all need you to make the right decision, but it only works if it truly comes from your heart, son.

But I don't know what I want or should do...Can you stay, Father? I need you. We need you.

I have never left.

God stands up and lets His eyes roam free to the land ahead. This is not the first and only world He has created, but somehow it feels special. He loves the children here, a little unfairly calling them His favorite, but they still have much to learn.

Listen, Michael. Really listen and follow.

He taps on Michael's chest and reaches into the pocket to pull out a small, delicate yellow flower. He puts it on the bench and winks. Mischief sparks His beautiful blue eyes and in a blink, He is gone, as unexpected as when He appeared.

Michael sighs and touches the lonely flower.

Daffodil.

He twirls it in his hand. There is a lot for him to think about.

***

The blazing sun heats the air from above like a giant broiler. Everything stands still in the middle of the day. The cicadas are the only active creatures, but after weeks of no rain, even their songs start to lose their energy.

Kye wipes the sweat under her chin and continues pushing a heavy wheelbarrow full of dirt through the lanes of tomatoes. They look withered and she worries that they may not last. The plants are as simple as her. Food, water, a little TLC and they grow, but also just like her, life seems to slowly leave them.

It has been another 8 months. 8 months, 3 weeks, and 3 days to be exact since they officially announced Michael's death. She doesn't want to believe their "proofs", but every day listening to the same thing grates on her mind.

Part of her knows it is possible that he is dead. She has seen angels die before. That's why he didn't come when he promised. She just never imagined he would be gone like that.

Kye has thought about it. She wants to find him, but she doesn't know where to look. What if, and that is a big if, she can go to Heaven, and Michael is not there, what would she do then? She doesn't know where the angels go when they die, much less someone like Michael. Did he just vanish into nothing, or back to his mold to be remade?

She can't do that to her family either. They would be devastated. They have already lost so much. She made a promise a while ago after Michael gave her the option to be immortal. She will take care of her family for as long as it takes. Even when the archangel is not here anymore, she still has the same responsibility.

So she stays, and exists, putting one foot ahead at a time. Even when all the joy has left and her heart is broken, no one needs to know. She can't stand the pitying looks from people, even from Ruby, so she hides most of the time in any kind of work she can get. She prefers the hard, labor-intensive ones to exhaust both her mind and body, but sometimes it still doesn't help.

Kye usually works around 10 to 12 hours a day if she can, but most of the time Ruby just drags her home. Kye knows her sister is very unhappy with the way she lives right now but it is her life and she only has control of this much.

She can't sit still or stay inside as Ruby suggested, "Take time for yourself", she would go insane and do something she regrets. She doesn't want to look at anything that would remind her of Michael, and ironically, she has none.

Everything she has, everything he has ever given her was left at the loft the day he sent her away. Kye doesn't think they even have any photos together. The thing she treasured the most was a small pendant necklace with both of their names engraved on it, hers in English and his in Enochian. Michael had put a tiny drop of his grace in it, so the pendant always glowed.

"A part of me will always be with you..."

Hardly anyone can imagine the archangel had that side in him, but Kye knows. He tried, even at times she thought he didn't and now they are all memories. She wishes she had never taken the pendant off and left it on her bed that night, but it is too late now.

She remembers Michael's face, his beautiful dark hair, the blue eyes that speak a thousand words. The way he walks, smells, talks, the weird little things he does..., she remembers them all as clearly as he is standing right in front of her, but deep down inside, she is afraid. It is hard to imagine now, but someday, her mind may fail and she may forget about him. It will be like losing him all over again.

One wheel has just broken off when Kye mindlessly pushes the wheelbarrow through an uneven patch. Half of the dirt spills out and she curses under her breath, kicking the wheel hard out of frustration. There is nothing she can do here, she needs to get back to the tool shed.

The sound of thunder catches her attention. The sky is filled with heavy clouds now. A cool, humid smell hits her nose strongly and Kye almost shudders. She quickly closes her eyes and shakes her head a few times. No point in losing it now, she has a whole pile of dirt to clean up before the rain comes.

Kye walks out of the garden just in time to see people running around like crazy, shouting for each other. She is not sure what is going on nor wants to stop to investigate, so she decides to head back to the cabin. Maybe Ruby knows something.

Right when she crosses the big dirt road, something hits her hard in the back. It burns like nothing else and the last thing in her mind is she must've been hit by a bolt of lightning. Maybe this is it.

Kye lies there for what feels like an eternity before the pitter-patter of the rain and cold, wet feeling from head to toe wakes her up. Her face is halfway in a muddy puddle and her clothes are soaked. She chokes and coughs violently, trying to spit the nasty content out of her mouth. That would be a funny way to die drowning here in the middle of the road. Her body sways from left to right and her head feels like a thousand-pound boulder when she finally wills herself to stand up.

Kye shivers in the pouring rain. It is merciless, yet refreshing at the same time. After today, she will most likely catch a severe cold, but not much she can do at this point when she hasn't taken care of herself at all.

She walks shakily, trying to get back to the cabin as fast as possible when she sees the lightning. Still not sure what has knocked her out, she looks around for cover. Anything she can get under safely and waits for the rain to go away. She may not be so lucky the second time if she indeed got hit by lightning.

It starts raining harder by the minute and Kye can't see very clearly now. Everything is a grey blur. She walks to a nearby empty cabin and sits down on the front porch. It was one of many in the camp, and Kye is grateful to find it just in time. She is not in the mood to see or talk to anyone right now.

Kye looks up to the sky and sighs. The rain doesn't seem to go away soon, so she will be stuck here for a while with this soaked and muddy outfit. Her boots feel heavy, so Kye takes them off to shake whatever is inside out and sets them to the side. She wiggles her toes and leans her head back on the front door. Michael always took her cold feet in his lap and warmed them up every chance he got, and so did Ruby when they were little. Memories are a funny thing. They are all Kye has. They are bittersweet, and she can't get enough of them. Like a drug, they take her high and then throw her down the deepest pit.

Kye punches her chest. The new coughing fit distracts her from the pain. Every sound and shadow at every corner now reminds her of Michael. Everything could be him appearing out of thin air and startling her like he did before. Kye chuckles at her sad daydreaming. The rain continues its depressing pitter-patter, laughing at her sudden urge to destroy everything and run away.

Somewhere, anywhere. Kye doesn't care. She is just tired of everything.

Pulling out a small army knife from her pocket, Kye plays with its blade. She stares at the network of arteries and veins under her pale skin. Crisscross, vertical, or horizontal? How should she cut it?

She wants to test it. The knife points at her wrist, ready to do its work. Kye closes her eyes and presses down.

Nothing happens.

Her hand shakes uncontrollably but not from fear. Kye's mind is blank. She presses down again. Determination is a wild horse.

The next thing Kye knows, the knife shoots out of her hand with incredible force and pins itself into a column. Kye scowls and stands up. That knife belonged to her dad. She's not gonna lose it now.

Kye walks over and pulls it out, but, like a magnet, the knife flies right back to the wooden column and embeds itself a little deeper. No matter how much strength Kye puts in, it refuses to budge. Blind with rage, she curses loudly and grabs the knife's handle with both hands. She puts one foot on the column for extra support and pulls with her teeth clenched. Kye's hands burn with friction soon enough but she doesn't let go. She doesn't care. She will break them if she needs to. Haven't enough things already broken around her? What's with two more?

Like a woman who has lost the last thread of her sanity, Kye curses and pulls away until a pair of hands, hard as steel, pull her back.

Kye stumbles backward. She struggles to turn around and land the first punch. Whoever is holding her feels like a boulder. They are strong, grounded, and based on their breathing, not at all affected by her meager fight.

Kye bites back tears. They are not from her inevitable loss, however. It can't be someone from the camp. Or anyone else, for that matter. Her whole body reacts before Kye can fully comprehend what is happening. Electric shock spreads from her head to her toes. Her heart thumps. Goosebumps rise all over her body, and Kye loses all of her fighting will within seconds.

"Stop...Just stop it..." She whimpers. "Stop messing with my mind and go away!" This illusion is a strong one. It feels so goddamn real, and it hurts.

"Stop struggling. You're hurting yourself, Kye."

The calm voice stops her dead in the track. Kye's eyes want to pop out of their sockets. It can't be. Unless her fever has already taken over.

Kye wants to cover her mouth, but the person is still holding both of her wrists in a death grip. He yanks her around and pulls her up close to his face. His eyes appear three times the normal size, and Kye is immediately lost in the ocean blue.

"I hope this is the last time I will ever see you do that." Barely concealed anger seeps out from each of his words. "If you ever just think about hurting yourself, I will make you regret it, Kye. Do you understand?"

It is not an empty threat. Never is with Michael. Kye knows he has ways to get his point across, but years of being together have gotten her comfortable, and she is not in an obedient mood.

Kye presses her lips into a thin line and stares at Michael. He won't get the satisfaction of seeing her melt into a puddle before him.

Her heart bangs against her rib cage like a little traitor it is, however. It wants to bust out of her chest with the amount of pain, happiness, anger, and many other no-name emotions that it struggles to contain. Kye won't say it. She won't give Michael what he wants.

How dare he talk to her in that tone? How dare he treat her like a domestic companion? Those days are long gone. Is it her fault to wish that she could just end it? Does he not know the reason? Does he truly not know?

Where has he been for the last year?

Her arms hurt more every second, and they will probably break soon if Michael doesn't loosen his grip. Great. He doesn't seem to notice the force he is using on her at all. He always knew, but look at this. He won't be happy until he completely wrecks her. So be it. She won't be the one who regrets later.

Does Michael even know 'Regret'?

"So I come back to you, and you're gonna act like this, Kye? I didn't know you were this defiant." Michael looks at her with a small smile. His hands still hold her steady.

It is impossible to stay mad at the person your heart has missed every single day, but it is also impossible to just be happy.

"What am I supposed to do?" Kye screams at Michael. "Laugh and run to you like a loyal pet? Or act like nothing happened? You disappeared on me! For a year! Everyone thought you died. They said you died. I thought you died!"

Each sentence finishes with a punch in the archangel's chest until Kye has no strength left. She drops to the ground and sobs.

Her crying grips Michael's heart as if it has claws. The archangel stares at the fists that have just landed on him. Kye is using them to cover her face. They look like a horrid palette, red, purple, and blue. They feel like cotton. In a few hours, they will swell up like balls.

Michael sighs and kneels in front of the small human who had haunted his mind night and day before his memory returned. He reaches out to take both her hands in his. Kye looks a bit surprised, exhausted, and overwhelmed. She needs healing.

"I did die in a sense..." Michael speaks as he turns Kye's hands over to pour his grace into them. "Many and many times. With you."

Kye doesn't need to know all the grotesque details of his repeating nightmares, only why he couldn't come. Why he couldn't keep his promise.

Michael touches Kye's face tenderly when he's done, tracing his fingers on her hairline down to her chin. A smile lingers on his lips. Like a lost traveler who has finally found the direction, or a parched field that finally tastes the rain, Michael feels at ease.

Kye's clothes are all dry now. She can feel heat moving up and down her body while she stares into Michael's eyes. She can't read much from them, but he seems happy at least.

"Where have you been, Michael? What happened?"

She finally asks, still not entirely sure about the whole situation.

Michael sighs and slowly tells her everything from the day he disappeared up to yesterday. He skips a few details here and there, but Kye knows. It is horrible. He went through the near-dead experience with the ritual, then watched "her" die over and over again 270 times total, each time was as gruesome as the last, each time he chose to end it and follow her, all the way until God appeared and woke him up from his nightmares.

Kye touches his face, feeling the stubble on his sharp jawline. He looks as good as she remembers, but deep down inside, she knows he is not ok. The experience has haunted him. She knows she would lose her mind too if she had to watch him die over and over again like that.

"Thank God...No, I mean it. Thank Him for watching over you and bringing you back to me."

She wraps her arms around Michael's waist and buries her face in his chest. His intoxicating smell encases her body and she closes her eyes in contentment. She can hear his strong, steady heartbeats and to her, it is the most beautiful sound in the world.

Kye suddenly remembers a detail and it bugs her. She has thought about it before, always as a fleeting thought, not because she doesn't want to, but because she knows what tough position she would put Michael in. He exists to uphold the laws of Heaven and by being with her this way, he has already broken a few. She doesn't want to make things harder for him.

"You said I was pregnant in each dream?"

The illusions might not be real, but they reflect his heart's desire based on what he has told her about the mirror. Does it mean that's what he also wants?

"Yes, you were."

Michael answers plainly without any further explanation and Kye knows it will be hard to get anything out of him. This topic is sensitive and they pretty much left it alone in the past. "Until the time is right", they both thought, knowing it would come eventually, but never felt they were ready for it.

"I should know if it involves me, right? It doesn't feel good being in the dark."

Kye lightly tugs on Michael's shirt and gives him pleading eyes.

"I understand, but nothing bad will happen to you. I will make sure of that."

He looks at her and Kye can tell something is bothering him.

"What's wrong, Michael?" She frowns. "Just say it."

The archangel lets go of her and runs his hand through his dark brown hair. It is unusual to see him like this. He looks almost nervous.

"I have been very selfish...I want you to stay here and wait for me for as long as it takes because I know you will do that without question. I can't stand the thought of losing you, but I realize now anything can happen at any moment to one of us and it would be my fault that we are not together. I don't want that to happen, so I want to ask what would you like to do. Stay here and wait a little longer or come with me? The future will be full of uncertainty, but I would lay down my life first..."

Kye doesn't wait for Michael to finish. She tiptoes and covers his lips with hers. The kiss turns demanding and hungry when the archangel picks her up and presses her against the wall. Their bodies collide together and in that moment, they forget about the rain, thunders, and lightning outside, forget about the world full of dangers, worries, and responsibilities they will be forced into. There are only two of them, as always and as it should be.

You know my answer, Michael. I won't let you leave my sight ever again.

Kye answers with her eyes closed and a smile on her lips.

Very well then.

The archangel answers and with a loud flutter, they are gone. The porch is once again returning to its empty state before. The only evidence of what has happened is a grey knife handle stuck halfway on one of the porch columns.

Outside, the sun has reappeared on its bed of pink clouds, signaling a clear night ahead.

Yellow flower

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