Angeles (Chapter One)
The Day The Sky Caught Fire
Prologue
Chapter 1- Stay Forever With My Poison Arms Around You
London, England, 1348
Rachel can’t explain to anyone, much less herself, why she is so drawn towards the blonde angel-Quinn, the other angel had called her-but there is something intriguing, almost intoxicating, about her. The angel tosses and turns, unable to escape from visions mortals are not privy to. She looks tortured, Rachel thinks, and the brunette wonders what the angel is blaming herself for, and whether she can be redeemed.
She wants to reach out and touch this angel, and the force of the new attraction scares her. She wants to hold her hand, try and comfort her, try and fix her really, and she doesn’t know why she is feeling like this towards someone-something?-who is destined to bring the world to an end.
She has read prophecies about what is supposed to happen. She has heard the stories first hand, about how easy it will be for these angels to bring the destruction to end the world, and yet she cannot help but want to defend the angels. She knows Brittany feels the same way.
Those who bring the end of the world, Rachel thinks, they shouldn’t look like this. They should look powerful, ruthless; they shouldn’t be lying here with a vulnerability that could break any human’s heart.
She should be feeling many other things, but right now, all she feels is compassion, empathy, and more frighteningly, longing.
“It’s ok,” Rachel whispers quietly to the angel, “whatever you’re worried about, it’s going to be ok. Everything is going to be fine, I promise, you don’t have to be scared anymore…”
She leans forward slightly, brushing her lips against the angel’s forehead.
“You can trust me,” Rachel continues softly. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. Both of you are safe here. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, you have my word.”
Maybe it’s her voice, maybe it’s something else, but the angel stops looking so distressed in her sleep as Rachel continues to whisper reassurances.
& & &
Rachel isn’t sure why she woke up in the middle of the night, so she just lies there for a moment, listening to the sounds around her. Eventually she hears something coming from the kitchen, so she gets up and goes to investigate. The other angel, the brunette, is staring out the window.
“Are you ok?” She asks quietly. “Do you want something to eat?”
“I’m fine,” she says a little roughly. But then her features soften slightly, and she tilts her head towards Rachel. She looks intrigued, it’s past curiosity, and Rachel begins to feel unnerved by the attention she is receiving.
“Quinn isn’t sleeping well,” Rachel stammers slightly, suddenly unsure of where she is supposed to stand with the other angel. There is a different type of arrogance than with Quinn, something closer to self-assurance than to superiority. Like this angel knows something, and whatever that knowledge is, it gives her confidence. “Is she ok?”
“Quinn doesn’t like sleeping,” the angel shrugs, but it’s not really indifference she appears to be feeling now, it’s something else, it’s almost as if she’s waiting for Rachel to say something else.
“Why not?” She asks. The other angel doesn’t say anything, just continues to watch Rachel, waiting for something.
“When she sleeps, she dreams, and in her dreams, she remembers what happened to her,” the angel eventually answers. “Quinn doesn’t like remembering.”
“What happened to her?” Rachel presses. “What doesn’t she like to remember?”
“Quinn is broken,” she says, evading the question. “It’s complicated but Quinn is broken. She doesn’t like to remember what happened to her when she was a mortal but she resents being an angel as well.”
“What happened to her?” Rachel repeats. The angel shakes her head.
“The tragedies from Ancient Greece, well, they had to draw their inspiration from something, did they not? Or haven’t you read the stories?” The angel asks. Rachel shakes her head.
There’s a pause, and the angel tilts her head, listening to something Rachel can’t hear.
“Quinn is awake, you need to go to her,” she says, and turns to Rachel, a little hesitant. “She’s just broken, you know. She’s been broken for so long now I don’t think she really remembers what it’s like not to be.”
& & &
“What’s your name?” Brittany asks the next morning. The angel looks at her.
“Saint Ana,” she answers before looking outside.
“Santana?” Brittany repeats, looking confused, and the angel sighs.
“Yeah,” she says. “You can call me Santana, if you want.”
Santana turns her head to look at Brittany. She’s confused by this girl. She had seen her in the prophecies, they all have, but seeing her in person, well, it’s completely different to what she expected. This girl radiates an innocence around her, something so fundamentally good that she almost can’t quite believe Brittany is real. She wants to reach out and touch Brittany, and that is alarming in itself.
“I saw it happen,” Brittany says quietly. “I saw you as you fell from the sky.”
Santana doesn’t say anything.
“Did it hurt?” She asks.
“Yes,” Santana says, very quietly. “It did.”
“Does it still hurt?” Brittany asks.
“Yes,” Santana answers. But then she hesitates a little, looking at Brittany. “You make it hurt a little less, though.”
“Is Quinn hurting, too?” For a while, Santana doesn’t answer, and Brittany begins to wonder if maybe she asked the wrong question, if she somehow crossed a line. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I just thought you and Quinn were friends or something.”
“Quinn has been hurting for a long time,” Santana says softly, looking outside, at nothing in particular. “She was hurting long before she fell from the sky.”
“What happened to her?” Brittany asks.
“Humanity,” Santana sighs. Brittany’s curiosity isn’t that different from Rachel’s. They both have the same intention, to try and fix Quinn. “Humanity is what happened to her. Tragic, really, Quinn didn’t deserve any of it, not that anyone does. She was just, I don’t know. There were elements beyond her control, and she was caught up in all of it. She ended up becoming an angel, but, well, some-well, Quinn, mainly-would argue that it doesn’t mean she’s better off because of it.”
& & &
Emma can’t say she’s particularly surprised when Shelby appears at her home one evening. She doesn’t say anything as she lets her in, and for a moment, there’s just silence between the two of them. Eventually the tension builds and Shelby stands up and starts pacing.
“I need to know,” Shelby pleads quietly. “I need to know what you saw in your dreams; I need to know how this story ends. You have to tell me.”
“It’s not that simple,” Emma begins.
“Yes, it is!” Shelby snaps. “You saw them arrive! You were the one who told me these angels would come into my home. You were the one who said that the fate of humanity rested in my daughter convincing two angels not to end the world!”
She shakes her head, glaring at Emma.
“This isn’t fair,” she says. “You saw this happen; you saw them fall from the sky. You knew it was going to happen, so please, I just need to know, I need to know how this ends…” Her voice cracks slightly. She can’t bring herself to ask Emma if she loses her daughter.
“I saw how broken they are,” Emma tells her. “The blonde especially, but the brunette is, too. They’re more broken as angels than any mortal. Rachel, Brittany too, they have this ability to fix people, and the angels, they need that. They need to believe in good again.”
“This isn’t about faith!” She snaps. “I just want to know if my daughter is going to be okay. Please, please just tell me that nothing is going to happen to my daughter…” She looks at Emma. “Take whatever it is of mine instead, if that’s what it takes, but please, don’t touch my daughter.”
“I don’t have that kind of power,” Emma says softly. “You know that. I only see things, I can’t make things happen, I just have visions…”
“So what did you see?” Shelby asks. “How does this story end? Are the angels going to end the world, after all?”
Emma doesn’t answer. Her silence says it all.
& & &
She can’t explain it, but she feels the girl before she sees her. She can sense her with an intensity that frightens her, because there is this pull towards her that feels a lot like fate, and that implies she is not in control of her own destiny.
Quinn knows first hand that destinies written by higher powers only end in tragedy.
Is she doomed then? Is this only going to end badly for everyone involved? Or is there something else at play, something than no one can really control, not even the highest beings? Could it be that this girl, this teenager with brown eyes and a shy smile, could she bring something that mortals refer to as salvation?
“You can come closer,” Quinn husks, the simple act of speaking burning her throat. “I can sense you standing over there.”
“I’m sorry,” Rachel says quietly. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“It’s okay,” she tells her. “I was already awake.”
Rachel still hesitates in the doorway. Quinn wants to tell her to come closer, that it’s fine, that she feels better when the brunette is closer. She wants to say all of these things, to try and ease the mind of this mortal, but she can’t find the words. She hopes Rachel understands anyway.
It takes a moment, but she eventually comes closer, and she sits at the corner of the bed. She’s further away than she was when Quinn was asleep, but the urge to touch her is still there. The force of the temptation is overwhelming.
“Santana said you don’t like dreaming,” Rachel says quietly, unsure of Quinn’s reaction.
“I don’t,” Quinn nods in agreement. She stops herself from saying more, her throat still burning. She isn’t used to having to speak, the action hurts. Breathing hurts. Being alive hurts.
“What do you dream about?” She asks. Quinn closes her eyes, feeling the exhaustion begin to take over once more. She wonders, briefly, if Rachel being next to her will stop the dreams from coming back.
& & &
Even when they were angels, Santana could read Quinn better than the others. She could sense things about the other angel, could almost reach out and touch the resentment and bitterness the blonde kept hidden under the beauty.
Quinn had always been intoxicating, the kind of entity one was drawn to, but it was not just because of her looks, it was also because of the trace of darkness that lingered beneath it all.
It wasn’t just arrogance, though Quinn was definitely aware of her looks, but something else. A resentment, almost, of the beauty she possessed.
A resentment that hadn’t entirely left her since they fell from the sky.
Santana watches as something burns in Quinn’s eyes, the flame of resentment-jealousy? Bitterness?-a sharp contrast to the angelic features of Quinn’s face.
“Look at them,” Quinn snarls, “turning to God as if he will bring them salvation. As if he even listens to them. Such fools these mortals be…”
“You don’t like it,” Santana suddenly says, intrigued by the new understanding coming over her. “You don’t like how the girl is praying to God. You want her to pray to you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Quinn snaps, turning towards her. “She’s a common mortal. The scent of humanity is overwhelming on her. Surely even you can sense it, too.”
“Why do you hate these mortals so much?” She asks. “They saved both our lives after we fell. They could have left us there, abandoned us, but instead they saved us. Do you not owe them anything? Not even compassion?”
“It is not compassion that saves us,” Quinn says, the fight going out of her. She looks at Santana from the corner of her eye. “They wrote prophecies about it, you know, about how she is supposed to save the world.”
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous you’re not the savior,” Santana smiles. Quinn’s eyes drop to the floor.
“I thought she could maybe save us,” she confesses. “But she has to save the world, instead. She can’t save the world and save us as well. She has to choose, it’s in the prophecy. We both know how it ends.”
& & &
Emma sees the two angels in person by accident.
She was leaving to head to the market and they were sitting on the edge of the woods, not far from where she saw them fall in the vision. She lingers for a moment, watching them. She finds them intriguing.
They are even more beautiful in real life, she realizes when she gets closer. They have an aura around them, a peacefulness, but there’s something beneath it, an energy that promises both power and destruction. Emma suddenly realizes she is seeing what their powers are capable of, what they could do if they were in the wrong hands.
Suddenly, one of them looks at her, and just like that, time seems to suddenly freeze. The other angel tenses beside her as she notices Emma as well.
The blonde tilts her head.
“Interesting,” she says, sounding intrigued. “Well, it looks like the prophets forgot something, after all.”
“Quinn, don’t,” the other angel tells her, somehow managing to sound bored and alarmed at the same time. Quinn ignores her completely, and starts moving towards her.
Emma can see it in Quinn’s eyes. She can see the darkness so clearly; she had never really known it could be an emotion. But there’s a thirst shimmering behind the hazel eyes, a hint of a promise of what could happen should the angel’s control suddenly disappear. There is interest, curiosity, but coupled with that, is the trace of darkness.
She knows she should be afraid. The intrigue the angel is feeling towards her is too intense, too dangerous, there’s a darkness lingering under this beauty, a force capable of ending the world.
She should know, after all, she’s seen it happen in her visions.
She knows this angel, with her gorgeous face and hazel eyes, she knows what this angel is capable of. She can feel the bitterness and resentment radiating off her, anger towards mankind, she can feel it, can almost reach out and touch it. She knows that this angel is the one who will end the world.
But Emma can feel something else as well, a desperation underneath all the tragic darkness, and instead of fear, it brings her comfort. It is not humanity, she thinks to herself, that will stop this angel. It’s something else, but she can’t find the right word at the moment.
It comes to her much later, when she’s back home and the angels have left the moor. It lingers there, and Emma doesn’t know what to make of it. She says it out loud, trying to make sense of it, but the explanations fail to come even in her visions.
Salvation.
& & &
Shelby closes her eyes, listening to the rain falling against the roof as she tries desperately to fall asleep. The rhythm of the raindrops is consistent but provides little comfort to the thoughts running through her mind.
She’s heard the prophecies. She knows how this story plays out, even without Emma detailing exactly what she saw. It doesn’t matter, really, and she’s not sure if hearing it from her friend would have made the truth any more bearable. She knows how it ends.
The prophecies don’t lie.
She doesn’t understand though. She doesn’t understand how the fate of humanity is supposed to be decided by her sixteen-year-old daughter, she doesn’t understand why Brittany’s belief in the good in people is so fundamental, but most of all, she doesn’t know what she is supposed to do with the two angels who are lying in her home and whose suffering is so utterly heartbreaking.
The prophecies claim these two angels bring with them the end of the world, but she wonders if maybe the prophecies would be rewritten if the authors saw the torment in Quinn’s eyes or the nostalgia in Santana’s. She wonders if the original writers know why Quinn hurts so much being around humans, or what, exactly, Santana is missing.
She wonders if these angels ever had a chance, or if their destiny was decided for them, the way Rachel’s was decided by Emma a snowy night not too many years ago.
& & &
It’s cold when Rachel wakes up. She realizes she’s gotten used to having Quinn next to her, and without the angel, there is nothing to radiate warmth from. For a moment, Rachel just lies in her bed, listening for sounds to indicate where Quinn might be. But the house is completely silent except for the rain against the roof.
She tries to be quiet as she walks around the farmhouse, trying to find her beautiful angel. She almost gives up but then she sees her, sitting next to window, watching the rain fall against the glass.
“You should go back to bed,” Quinn says softly, and Rachel wonders how she even knew she was there.
“I can’t sleep without you,” Rachel confesses honestly. There’s a flicker of emotion across Quinn’s face, but it’s gone before Rachel can really manage to define it.
“Do you want to watch the rain with me?” She asks softly, and there’s just enough vulnerability in her voice that Rachel knows she will say yes even though her mind is telling her to go back to bed.
She leans against Quinn, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from the angel. She wants to ask how that is possible, what are the reasons that an angel can radiate actual heat, but she figures that for now, the questions can wait. There is obviously something on Quinn’s mind, and, Rachel hopes, she will tell her if and when she’s ready.
“You look tired,” Quinn comments. “You should go back to bed. You need your rest.”
“I’m ok,” Rachel says as she shakes her head. Quinn shifts slightly, moving just a little away from her and focusing her attention back to the rain falling outside.
“We don’t have to talk,” she says, desperate to stay with Quinn a little longer. The angel turns to her, confused. “I’m just saying, if you want to sit here and look at the rain falling, it’s ok, we can do that. We don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to. I’m happy just sitting here with you and watching the rain fall.”
This time, when she moves closer to Quinn, the angel doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move away. For the longest time, they stay like that, just the two of them, watching as the rain draws mindless patterns against the window, watching time go by as Quinn tries desperately to chase away her dreams.
“It’s ok,” Rachel whispers quietly to Quinn, trying not to break the moment, “whatever you’re afraid of in your dreams, it’s okay. It’s not going to hurt you anymore. I’m here, I won’t let anything to you, I promise.”
Quinn smiles softly at her, full of sadness and something else, something almost like gratitude, and the combination of the two is so heartbreaking that Rachel has to look away. When she turns back to Quinn, the angel is looking outside.
But when Rachel puts her hand over Quinn’s, the angel glances at the action. For a moment, Rachel thinks Quinn is going to move her hand, but instead, the blonde just turns her attention back to the rhythm of the rain outside.
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
DIsclaimers:
- "Angeles" is based off the song by Elliot Smith
- If I owned Glee, London wouldn't hurt my bank account this much
- Special thanks to Erika for looking this over
Prologue
Chapter 1- Stay Forever With My Poison Arms Around You
London, England, 1348
Rachel can’t explain to anyone, much less herself, why she is so drawn towards the blonde angel-Quinn, the other angel had called her-but there is something intriguing, almost intoxicating, about her. The angel tosses and turns, unable to escape from visions mortals are not privy to. She looks tortured, Rachel thinks, and the brunette wonders what the angel is blaming herself for, and whether she can be redeemed.
She wants to reach out and touch this angel, and the force of the new attraction scares her. She wants to hold her hand, try and comfort her, try and fix her really, and she doesn’t know why she is feeling like this towards someone-something?-who is destined to bring the world to an end.
She has read prophecies about what is supposed to happen. She has heard the stories first hand, about how easy it will be for these angels to bring the destruction to end the world, and yet she cannot help but want to defend the angels. She knows Brittany feels the same way.
Those who bring the end of the world, Rachel thinks, they shouldn’t look like this. They should look powerful, ruthless; they shouldn’t be lying here with a vulnerability that could break any human’s heart.
She should be feeling many other things, but right now, all she feels is compassion, empathy, and more frighteningly, longing.
“It’s ok,” Rachel whispers quietly to the angel, “whatever you’re worried about, it’s going to be ok. Everything is going to be fine, I promise, you don’t have to be scared anymore…”
She leans forward slightly, brushing her lips against the angel’s forehead.
“You can trust me,” Rachel continues softly. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. Both of you are safe here. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, you have my word.”
Maybe it’s her voice, maybe it’s something else, but the angel stops looking so distressed in her sleep as Rachel continues to whisper reassurances.
& & &
Rachel isn’t sure why she woke up in the middle of the night, so she just lies there for a moment, listening to the sounds around her. Eventually she hears something coming from the kitchen, so she gets up and goes to investigate. The other angel, the brunette, is staring out the window.
“Are you ok?” She asks quietly. “Do you want something to eat?”
“I’m fine,” she says a little roughly. But then her features soften slightly, and she tilts her head towards Rachel. She looks intrigued, it’s past curiosity, and Rachel begins to feel unnerved by the attention she is receiving.
“Quinn isn’t sleeping well,” Rachel stammers slightly, suddenly unsure of where she is supposed to stand with the other angel. There is a different type of arrogance than with Quinn, something closer to self-assurance than to superiority. Like this angel knows something, and whatever that knowledge is, it gives her confidence. “Is she ok?”
“Quinn doesn’t like sleeping,” the angel shrugs, but it’s not really indifference she appears to be feeling now, it’s something else, it’s almost as if she’s waiting for Rachel to say something else.
“Why not?” She asks. The other angel doesn’t say anything, just continues to watch Rachel, waiting for something.
“When she sleeps, she dreams, and in her dreams, she remembers what happened to her,” the angel eventually answers. “Quinn doesn’t like remembering.”
“What happened to her?” Rachel presses. “What doesn’t she like to remember?”
“Quinn is broken,” she says, evading the question. “It’s complicated but Quinn is broken. She doesn’t like to remember what happened to her when she was a mortal but she resents being an angel as well.”
“What happened to her?” Rachel repeats. The angel shakes her head.
“The tragedies from Ancient Greece, well, they had to draw their inspiration from something, did they not? Or haven’t you read the stories?” The angel asks. Rachel shakes her head.
There’s a pause, and the angel tilts her head, listening to something Rachel can’t hear.
“Quinn is awake, you need to go to her,” she says, and turns to Rachel, a little hesitant. “She’s just broken, you know. She’s been broken for so long now I don’t think she really remembers what it’s like not to be.”
& & &
“What’s your name?” Brittany asks the next morning. The angel looks at her.
“Saint Ana,” she answers before looking outside.
“Santana?” Brittany repeats, looking confused, and the angel sighs.
“Yeah,” she says. “You can call me Santana, if you want.”
Santana turns her head to look at Brittany. She’s confused by this girl. She had seen her in the prophecies, they all have, but seeing her in person, well, it’s completely different to what she expected. This girl radiates an innocence around her, something so fundamentally good that she almost can’t quite believe Brittany is real. She wants to reach out and touch Brittany, and that is alarming in itself.
“I saw it happen,” Brittany says quietly. “I saw you as you fell from the sky.”
Santana doesn’t say anything.
“Did it hurt?” She asks.
“Yes,” Santana says, very quietly. “It did.”
“Does it still hurt?” Brittany asks.
“Yes,” Santana answers. But then she hesitates a little, looking at Brittany. “You make it hurt a little less, though.”
“Is Quinn hurting, too?” For a while, Santana doesn’t answer, and Brittany begins to wonder if maybe she asked the wrong question, if she somehow crossed a line. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I just thought you and Quinn were friends or something.”
“Quinn has been hurting for a long time,” Santana says softly, looking outside, at nothing in particular. “She was hurting long before she fell from the sky.”
“What happened to her?” Brittany asks.
“Humanity,” Santana sighs. Brittany’s curiosity isn’t that different from Rachel’s. They both have the same intention, to try and fix Quinn. “Humanity is what happened to her. Tragic, really, Quinn didn’t deserve any of it, not that anyone does. She was just, I don’t know. There were elements beyond her control, and she was caught up in all of it. She ended up becoming an angel, but, well, some-well, Quinn, mainly-would argue that it doesn’t mean she’s better off because of it.”
& & &
Emma can’t say she’s particularly surprised when Shelby appears at her home one evening. She doesn’t say anything as she lets her in, and for a moment, there’s just silence between the two of them. Eventually the tension builds and Shelby stands up and starts pacing.
“I need to know,” Shelby pleads quietly. “I need to know what you saw in your dreams; I need to know how this story ends. You have to tell me.”
“It’s not that simple,” Emma begins.
“Yes, it is!” Shelby snaps. “You saw them arrive! You were the one who told me these angels would come into my home. You were the one who said that the fate of humanity rested in my daughter convincing two angels not to end the world!”
She shakes her head, glaring at Emma.
“This isn’t fair,” she says. “You saw this happen; you saw them fall from the sky. You knew it was going to happen, so please, I just need to know, I need to know how this ends…” Her voice cracks slightly. She can’t bring herself to ask Emma if she loses her daughter.
“I saw how broken they are,” Emma tells her. “The blonde especially, but the brunette is, too. They’re more broken as angels than any mortal. Rachel, Brittany too, they have this ability to fix people, and the angels, they need that. They need to believe in good again.”
“This isn’t about faith!” She snaps. “I just want to know if my daughter is going to be okay. Please, please just tell me that nothing is going to happen to my daughter…” She looks at Emma. “Take whatever it is of mine instead, if that’s what it takes, but please, don’t touch my daughter.”
“I don’t have that kind of power,” Emma says softly. “You know that. I only see things, I can’t make things happen, I just have visions…”
“So what did you see?” Shelby asks. “How does this story end? Are the angels going to end the world, after all?”
Emma doesn’t answer. Her silence says it all.
& & &
She can’t explain it, but she feels the girl before she sees her. She can sense her with an intensity that frightens her, because there is this pull towards her that feels a lot like fate, and that implies she is not in control of her own destiny.
Quinn knows first hand that destinies written by higher powers only end in tragedy.
Is she doomed then? Is this only going to end badly for everyone involved? Or is there something else at play, something than no one can really control, not even the highest beings? Could it be that this girl, this teenager with brown eyes and a shy smile, could she bring something that mortals refer to as salvation?
“You can come closer,” Quinn husks, the simple act of speaking burning her throat. “I can sense you standing over there.”
“I’m sorry,” Rachel says quietly. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“It’s okay,” she tells her. “I was already awake.”
Rachel still hesitates in the doorway. Quinn wants to tell her to come closer, that it’s fine, that she feels better when the brunette is closer. She wants to say all of these things, to try and ease the mind of this mortal, but she can’t find the words. She hopes Rachel understands anyway.
It takes a moment, but she eventually comes closer, and she sits at the corner of the bed. She’s further away than she was when Quinn was asleep, but the urge to touch her is still there. The force of the temptation is overwhelming.
“Santana said you don’t like dreaming,” Rachel says quietly, unsure of Quinn’s reaction.
“I don’t,” Quinn nods in agreement. She stops herself from saying more, her throat still burning. She isn’t used to having to speak, the action hurts. Breathing hurts. Being alive hurts.
“What do you dream about?” She asks. Quinn closes her eyes, feeling the exhaustion begin to take over once more. She wonders, briefly, if Rachel being next to her will stop the dreams from coming back.
& & &
Even when they were angels, Santana could read Quinn better than the others. She could sense things about the other angel, could almost reach out and touch the resentment and bitterness the blonde kept hidden under the beauty.
Quinn had always been intoxicating, the kind of entity one was drawn to, but it was not just because of her looks, it was also because of the trace of darkness that lingered beneath it all.
It wasn’t just arrogance, though Quinn was definitely aware of her looks, but something else. A resentment, almost, of the beauty she possessed.
A resentment that hadn’t entirely left her since they fell from the sky.
Santana watches as something burns in Quinn’s eyes, the flame of resentment-jealousy? Bitterness?-a sharp contrast to the angelic features of Quinn’s face.
“Look at them,” Quinn snarls, “turning to God as if he will bring them salvation. As if he even listens to them. Such fools these mortals be…”
“You don’t like it,” Santana suddenly says, intrigued by the new understanding coming over her. “You don’t like how the girl is praying to God. You want her to pray to you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Quinn snaps, turning towards her. “She’s a common mortal. The scent of humanity is overwhelming on her. Surely even you can sense it, too.”
“Why do you hate these mortals so much?” She asks. “They saved both our lives after we fell. They could have left us there, abandoned us, but instead they saved us. Do you not owe them anything? Not even compassion?”
“It is not compassion that saves us,” Quinn says, the fight going out of her. She looks at Santana from the corner of her eye. “They wrote prophecies about it, you know, about how she is supposed to save the world.”
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous you’re not the savior,” Santana smiles. Quinn’s eyes drop to the floor.
“I thought she could maybe save us,” she confesses. “But she has to save the world, instead. She can’t save the world and save us as well. She has to choose, it’s in the prophecy. We both know how it ends.”
& & &
Emma sees the two angels in person by accident.
She was leaving to head to the market and they were sitting on the edge of the woods, not far from where she saw them fall in the vision. She lingers for a moment, watching them. She finds them intriguing.
They are even more beautiful in real life, she realizes when she gets closer. They have an aura around them, a peacefulness, but there’s something beneath it, an energy that promises both power and destruction. Emma suddenly realizes she is seeing what their powers are capable of, what they could do if they were in the wrong hands.
Suddenly, one of them looks at her, and just like that, time seems to suddenly freeze. The other angel tenses beside her as she notices Emma as well.
The blonde tilts her head.
“Interesting,” she says, sounding intrigued. “Well, it looks like the prophets forgot something, after all.”
“Quinn, don’t,” the other angel tells her, somehow managing to sound bored and alarmed at the same time. Quinn ignores her completely, and starts moving towards her.
Emma can see it in Quinn’s eyes. She can see the darkness so clearly; she had never really known it could be an emotion. But there’s a thirst shimmering behind the hazel eyes, a hint of a promise of what could happen should the angel’s control suddenly disappear. There is interest, curiosity, but coupled with that, is the trace of darkness.
She knows she should be afraid. The intrigue the angel is feeling towards her is too intense, too dangerous, there’s a darkness lingering under this beauty, a force capable of ending the world.
She should know, after all, she’s seen it happen in her visions.
She knows this angel, with her gorgeous face and hazel eyes, she knows what this angel is capable of. She can feel the bitterness and resentment radiating off her, anger towards mankind, she can feel it, can almost reach out and touch it. She knows that this angel is the one who will end the world.
But Emma can feel something else as well, a desperation underneath all the tragic darkness, and instead of fear, it brings her comfort. It is not humanity, she thinks to herself, that will stop this angel. It’s something else, but she can’t find the right word at the moment.
It comes to her much later, when she’s back home and the angels have left the moor. It lingers there, and Emma doesn’t know what to make of it. She says it out loud, trying to make sense of it, but the explanations fail to come even in her visions.
Salvation.
& & &
Shelby closes her eyes, listening to the rain falling against the roof as she tries desperately to fall asleep. The rhythm of the raindrops is consistent but provides little comfort to the thoughts running through her mind.
She’s heard the prophecies. She knows how this story plays out, even without Emma detailing exactly what she saw. It doesn’t matter, really, and she’s not sure if hearing it from her friend would have made the truth any more bearable. She knows how it ends.
The prophecies don’t lie.
She doesn’t understand though. She doesn’t understand how the fate of humanity is supposed to be decided by her sixteen-year-old daughter, she doesn’t understand why Brittany’s belief in the good in people is so fundamental, but most of all, she doesn’t know what she is supposed to do with the two angels who are lying in her home and whose suffering is so utterly heartbreaking.
The prophecies claim these two angels bring with them the end of the world, but she wonders if maybe the prophecies would be rewritten if the authors saw the torment in Quinn’s eyes or the nostalgia in Santana’s. She wonders if the original writers know why Quinn hurts so much being around humans, or what, exactly, Santana is missing.
She wonders if these angels ever had a chance, or if their destiny was decided for them, the way Rachel’s was decided by Emma a snowy night not too many years ago.
& & &
It’s cold when Rachel wakes up. She realizes she’s gotten used to having Quinn next to her, and without the angel, there is nothing to radiate warmth from. For a moment, Rachel just lies in her bed, listening for sounds to indicate where Quinn might be. But the house is completely silent except for the rain against the roof.
She tries to be quiet as she walks around the farmhouse, trying to find her beautiful angel. She almost gives up but then she sees her, sitting next to window, watching the rain fall against the glass.
“You should go back to bed,” Quinn says softly, and Rachel wonders how she even knew she was there.
“I can’t sleep without you,” Rachel confesses honestly. There’s a flicker of emotion across Quinn’s face, but it’s gone before Rachel can really manage to define it.
“Do you want to watch the rain with me?” She asks softly, and there’s just enough vulnerability in her voice that Rachel knows she will say yes even though her mind is telling her to go back to bed.
She leans against Quinn, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from the angel. She wants to ask how that is possible, what are the reasons that an angel can radiate actual heat, but she figures that for now, the questions can wait. There is obviously something on Quinn’s mind, and, Rachel hopes, she will tell her if and when she’s ready.
“You look tired,” Quinn comments. “You should go back to bed. You need your rest.”
“I’m ok,” Rachel says as she shakes her head. Quinn shifts slightly, moving just a little away from her and focusing her attention back to the rain falling outside.
“We don’t have to talk,” she says, desperate to stay with Quinn a little longer. The angel turns to her, confused. “I’m just saying, if you want to sit here and look at the rain falling, it’s ok, we can do that. We don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to. I’m happy just sitting here with you and watching the rain fall.”
This time, when she moves closer to Quinn, the angel doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move away. For the longest time, they stay like that, just the two of them, watching as the rain draws mindless patterns against the window, watching time go by as Quinn tries desperately to chase away her dreams.
“It’s ok,” Rachel whispers quietly to Quinn, trying not to break the moment, “whatever you’re afraid of in your dreams, it’s okay. It’s not going to hurt you anymore. I’m here, I won’t let anything to you, I promise.”
Quinn smiles softly at her, full of sadness and something else, something almost like gratitude, and the combination of the two is so heartbreaking that Rachel has to look away. When she turns back to Quinn, the angel is looking outside.
But when Rachel puts her hand over Quinn’s, the angel glances at the action. For a moment, Rachel thinks Quinn is going to move her hand, but instead, the blonde just turns her attention back to the rhythm of the rain outside.
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
DIsclaimers:
- "Angeles" is based off the song by Elliot Smith
- If I owned Glee, London wouldn't hurt my bank account this much
- Special thanks to Erika for looking this over