Just Like Heaven
Simon had never seen an angel before. In fact, he hadn’t ever expected to. Certainly not while he was still alive anyway.
It was late Tuesday night and just as he’d turned on the telly, the lights began to flicker and thunder rumbled through his quiet flat.
“Dammit…” he sighed as he stood up and headed towards the back door. He’d left some things on the outside railing to dry, and now it was going to rain! Turning the handle and stepping into the backyard, he pulled the shirts off just as the rain started to come down. And by God, did it ever come down!
With a small groan, Simon turned toward the door to hurry back in, when a flash and a loud thump behind him made him turn. What?
There was someone on the lawn, someone with shaggy black hair and…fully naked…and…what were those things on his back…were those wings?
Dumping the now-soggy clothes back on the rail, Simon hurried into the yard. “Hey! Hey you! Are you all right?”
The figure raised its head and peered at him curiously, then stood up. He could see that it was clearly male, though as it shook its wings delicately, Simon wondered if he was hallucinating. “Uh…who are you?”
He’d reached the creature’s side now and hesitated before reaching out and touching one of the wings. It trembled in his hand and the creature pulled them back, shying away from his touch. Simon was puzzled, concerned, and gently rested a hand on the creature’s arm. “Who are you? Are you all right?” he repeated.
The creature looked at the sky and said something in a language he didn’t know, then it smiled and began to move its feet. Startled, Simon backed up, and the creature began to full-out dance on his soggy lawn in the rain. Its pale skin glimmered with an almost preternatural glow, wings shimmering in the mottled light coming through the clouds. The smile on its face was so heartbreakingly beautiful, so at peace.
“Are you…are you an angel?” Simon asked, stepping forward, ignoring the rain that was beating down on his head. The creature had finished dancing, and looked at him curiously, uttering words that he couldn’t understand. It took his hand, and then embraced him fully, pressing itself close to Simon. Halfway between amused and concerned, he wrapped his arms around the creature. It shivered softly, and felt cool to the touch. “Are you cold?”
When the creature merely looked at him, puzzled, Simon sighed. He wrapped his arms around his chest and shivered for emphasis. “You…” he pointed at the creature. “Cold?” he asked, shivering again.
“Cold.” It replied, nodding, shivering back at him.
“Right then, let’s go inside…” he said, faintly amused, tugging the creature towards the door with his hand. It followed him obediently, smiling as they went. Simon noticed that its peaceful smile hardly ever left its face.
As he toweled himself dry, he handed one over to the creature. It took the towel, and then watched him. Slowly, it began to copy Simon, drying off every part of itself, then delicately shook its wings before folding them tight against its back – and then they vanished.
“Hey, they’re gone…” Simon touched the creature’s back in amazement, and it giggled and spun in a circle, grinning at him.
“Gone, gone, gone!” it sang in a melodious voice, then darted about the room inspecting the furniture.
“Ah! Don’t touch that!” Simon gasped when the creature picked up his record player and lifted it high in the air. He grabbed it, setting it back down on the table. The creature pouted, but paused as Simon took out a record and put it on to play. “Don’t touch…this is how it works, it plays music, see?”
As the music started, the creature froze. And then slowly it began to sway…gradually it began to dance, singing softly to itself.
“What…ah, well.” Simon shrugged. “I…well it’s an angel I guess…”
It paused when it heard the word “angel”. Simon blinked at it.
“Are you…” he pointed at it. “An angel from Heaven or something?” he pointed to the ceiling, and then frowned, poking at the creature’s back.
“Angel…Heaven?” it echoed, and then seemed to consider. It nodded.
“Weird.” Simon arched an eyebrow, and then tucked the towel around the angel’s hips. “I’ll get you something to wear, I guess…come on.” He tugged on its hand, leading it towards his bedroom. Again, it followed him, docile and trusting, smiling all the way.
“That’s getting almost creepy…” Simon murmured to himself as he pulled out some old trousers and a shirt. The angel was constantly touching everything, and when he finally got it dressed, it began to touch Simon. It at first was stroking his cheeks, and then its fingertips found their way into his hair, cupping his chin, gently over his eyelids, down his neck and over his chest…down towards his hips…
“Woah, now, stop right there.” Simon gently pulled the angel’s hands away from his groin. It pouted at him a little. “That’s too friendly; I don’t even know your name.”
“Nayme?” it repeated, blinking at him.
“Me…” he pointed at himself. “My name is Simon. Me, Simon. Get it?”
The angel considered this for a moment. Then, it pointed at itself.
“Me…Robert.” It said the name elegantly, slowly, as if explaining to a child. “Me…angel!”
“I understood that part…all right Robert, come on, time for bed…” he blinked at himself. There was a stranger in his home, an angel, supposedly, and here he was dressing it and offering it a place to sleep! But it didn’t seem wrong…or dangerous, or anything of the sort. Maybe it was lost?
“Bed?”
“For sleeping.” Simon cradled his head in his hands, and pretended to snore. The angel clapped its hands and laughed loudly with pleasure, then copied him. The noises were atrocious and Simon had to laugh back, then gently sat the angel down on the side of the bed.
“Here, you take this. I’ll sleep on the couch.” He tucked Robert in, and then went to go out the door.
“Couch?” the angel was pouting at him, sitting up, lower lip wibbling with sadness.
“Well we’re not sleeping together…”
“Together…” it echoed, getting up and tugging him into bed, curling up next to him, wrapping its arms around Simon’s chest.
Simon sighed, and then put his arm over the angel’s shoulders, pulling the blankets up over them again. “I guess you’re staying here, then…”
The first thing that Simon noticed when he’d woken up was how cold he was. Looking down, he discovered he was completely uncovered – the angel had stolen all the blankets. With a sigh, he sat up and started tugging on them. The angel murmured a little in his sleep and then frowned, tugging back.
“No, c’mon, those are mine…” Simon complained, tugging harder. Suddenly the angel’s eyes opened and he let go at the same time that the man pulled hardest of all – and fell right off the bed. “Ahhhh!”
There was a moment’s pause as he lay on the ground, swathed in blankets, staring up at the ceiling. Then the angel’s head poked over the side of the bed and asked, “Simon hurt?”
“Yes, ‘Simon hurt’, you – argh.” He sighed, sitting up and rubbing his lower back where he’d banged it on the floor. “Never mind.”
The angel giggled and rolled out of bed, landing on top of him with a grin. “Robert wake! Robert HUNGRY!” he proclaimed, bouncing in the blankets eagerly, like a small puppy. Simon noticed that the angel’s wings had reappeared, and they were quivering as he was.
“Fine…let’s go have something to eat.” Simon shrugged, then stood and winced as he bent over to dump the blankets back on the bed. Robert was watching him closely, little light touches to his shoulders and back.
“Simon hurt, yes?” Robert inquired.
“Only a little.” Simon protested, brushing the angel’s hands away. Robert pouted, lower lip wobbling, and then he burst into tears.
“Robert b-b-bad?”
“No, no, stop that, you’re all right…” Simon gave the angel an awkward hug, and Robert promptly smiled and bounced out of his arms and into the kitchen.
“Robert good! Robert good!”
“Robert, stay away from the stove!!”
“Robert hungry!”
“Wait for me!” Simon raced into the kitchen, yanking the inquisitive angel away from the equipment in question. “That’s hot, don’t touch it.”
“Hot.” Robert nodded. “No touch.”
“Right, no touch.” Simon bustled about, grabbing a few things and putting some coffee on. “Here. This is how you make toast.” He put some bread in, and then put his finger on the spring. “Press down, see?”
“Down.” Robert mimicked him, pushing down the other toast. Immediately he leaned over, wide-eyed, as the little grill-wires heated up and glowed orange. “Oooo.”
“Robert, don’t touch that!”
The angel yanked his fingers out of the toaster, shrieking at the top of his lungs and holding his hand out in front of him. Simon grabbed his arm and held the slightly-singed fingertips under the cold water while Robert continued to yowl like a scalded cat.
“Stop that! You didn’t even get burned, see? You’re fine.” Simon examined Robert’s wet fingertips as the angel sniffled into silence.
“Robert hurt!”
“Not badly.” Simon showed him, shaking his head with a slight smile. “You’ll be fine.”
Robert pouted at him and sat down at the table as Simon finished making their coffee and breakfast. He put it all together on the table and started in, reading the paper and occasionally glancing over the top to watch the angel.
Robert at first picked at his toast and eggs, finally deciding they tasted good before wolfing them down, no knife or fork. Next he sipped the coffee, making several odd faces and attempting to communicate with it in that odd chirruping-singing language he’d used before, to no avail. Finally Simon put his paper down, unable to concentrate.
“It’s just coffee. Drink it.”
“Coffee?” Robert blinked at him, then looked at it again and slowly began to swallow it, wrinkling his nose a bit.
Simon leaned on an elbow and contemplated the angel. He was slightly ruffled from sleep, hair tousled and up, slightly shiny. His eyes were somewhere between green and blue, with a touch of something that could’ve been violet. His skin was very pale, almost ivory, and he would’ve been too perfect if it wasn’t for the fact that he was slightly pudgy. It did nothing to upset his delicate beauty, though.
“Simon?” the angel asked, blinking and leaning forward. Simon started out of his thoughts, not realizing he’d been staring. “Robert…” he said something, mussing up his hair and looking at his hands. Then he frowned a bit, biting his lip as he thought of what to say. As he looked about, he spotted the sink, then turned on the faucet and splashed himself.
“Oh…you want to get clean. Shower time.” Simon turned off the taps and led the angel into his bathroom. He turned on the water and Robert started slightly, and then relaxed.
“Would you mind putting your wings away? They take up a lot of room.” Simon tugged slightly on the feathers, and Robert’s eyelids fluttered, body shuddering slightly before he gasped, yanking away and blushing brightly.
“Oh! N-no touch!” the angel protested, gasping and breathing slightly heavier as he staggered backwards.
“I…see.” Simon’s eyes widened a little as he uncrossed his arms and stepped into the shower, beckoning. “Well, come on then.”
Robert folded his wings up, and they vanished as he stepped into the small shower stall. It really hadn’t been built for two, and Simon got his elbows bumped a lot as he moved around, trying to wash Robert’s hair.
“Stand still! You’re only making this go longer!”
The angel cried a bit when it got in his eyes. “Robert hurt! Simon hurt Robert!” he protested.
“Not on purpose! Now lean your head back so I can rinse this.” Simon ordered, pushing Robert under the spray. The angel gave him a hurt look, standing under the shower head, water pouring down his head and shoulders, the long hair straightening out and making him look like a drowned rat.
“Not your best look…come on.” He sighed, washing himself quickly and briskly giving Robert a scrub – the angel squeaking with indignation the entire time – and then turned the water off, stepping out and getting them some towels. “Most girls or blokes would be thrilled to take a shower with me.”
“Shower hurt!” Robert protested, drying himself off gently.
“Only because you kept fidgeting.” Simon sighed, tugging the now-dry angel in the direction of his dresser drawers. “Time to find you something to wear. Can’t go walking around bloomin’ naked…”
“Robert naked?”
“This is going to be a long day…”
Simon quickly learned that, no matter how beautiful Robert the angel might be, he was still quite a bit bigger than himself. He’d nearly split a pair of the man’s trousers bending over to figure out how to put socks on.
“We have to get you something bigger.” Simon finally pointed out, after dressing Robert in some baggy sweaters and loose jeans. “My things are too small for you.”
The angel’s eyes immediately watered with tears. “ROBERT FAT!” he wailed, breaking down into sobs, rubbing his eyes in a childish motion and sinking down on the bed.
“Oh! Oh no no no no no!” Simon exclaimed, hurriedly sitting down beside the angel, hugging him and stroking his hair comfortingly. “You’re not fat, not at all! You’re just…um…taller and wider and longer than me…”
“Robert not fat?” he sniffled.
“Robert not fat.” Simon looked in his eyes, nodding firmly.
“Yay!” the angel sprang up, tugging Simon around the room in a happy dance, giggling like a schoolboy. The other man just had to laugh, it was really something else. “We go now?”
“Yes, we’re going.” Simon found a pair of boots to fit the angel, and then they waited on the steps while the man locked the door. “Let’s get some clothing first…and then we should get some more food.”
“Clothing and food.” Robert echoed, nodding, taking Simon’s hand. Simon looked down at their joined hands, twisting his lip in his teeth.
The angel seemed to notice his expression, and looked at him, curious and confused. “Robert hold hand…is good?”
“Um…yes, is good…but…” Simon scratched the back of his neck with his free hand, and then folded both of them into his pockets. “Not now. Only when we’re alone, not when people can see, understand?”
“No. Robert not understand.” The angel said sadly, but mimicked Simon, putting his hands in his pockets.
As they made their way down the street, Simon pointed out various things, naming them, and Robert repeated: tree, house, bicycle, lamp, post-box, sign. By the time they got to the Q&A, the angel seemed to be happy again, quite amused at everything.
Simon had a harder time once they got inside the store: Robert wanted to explore everything, try on everything, and then when they got to the change-rooms, stood for a full minute, just gaping at his own reflection in the mirror. Then he went up to it, poked at it, chirruping and singing, very engrossed, before Simon rolled his eyes and forced him to get changed.
The other man had to admit to himself that Robert looked much better in the nude than he did fully clothed. Once there were things on his body, it looked more plump and pudgy, taking away from his natural glow. The angel seemed to notice this as well, and tugged on the bottom of his new sweater sadly as they left the store.
“Robert have itch!” he kept complaining, scratching at his new clothing every so often. “Why Robert must wear clothing?”
“Because it’s what we do, on earth.” Simon patted the angel on the shoulder, fondly, leading him towards the grocery store. He’d gotten Robert a few more things to wear, not knowing how long the angel would be with him. “We also need to eat. Now remember what I told you in the other store – you stay with me, don’t talk to anyone, and don’t pick anything off the shelves.”
Robert nodded. “Robert know rules.”
Simon led them down the various aisles, putting boxes and cans in his basket, picking some fresh fruit and watching the angel marvel at all the shiny, shiny packages with brightly-coloured designs on them. “Ooooh…”
He had to smile again. Robert was so very child-like and innocent, and it made him feel somewhat responsible, somewhat protective, almost as if he had to take care of him and keep him safe from harm.
They made their way to the checkout counter, arms full of groceries, without any further incidents. After paying for the food, Simon began to gather up the bags and was about to breathe a sigh of relief when the person behind them decided to shove Robert out of the way. The angel tumbled to the floor, wailing.
“Robert!” Simon dropped to the floor, struggling to lift the squirming, sobbing creature. “You’re all right, you’re all right, you’re not hurt…”
“Why so mean?” the angel whimpered, burying his face in Simon’s shoulder. The younger main felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise, and he quickly stood them up, shoving some bags into Robert’s arms.
“Come along…” he practically dragged him out of the store.
On their way home from the grocery store, the angel was distracted by the bright, shining colours of other store-fronts. Simon, finding this amusing, decided to indulge him. They went into many of the other places, and the young man ended up buying lots of small, pretty objects which Robert cooed and fussed over.
All that stopped, however, when they entered a pet store. Robert took one look at the tweeting birds in their cages and froze. Simon almost tripped over him, so sudden was his halt.
“Are you all right?” Simon asked, edging around the angel to get a look at his face.
Quite suddenly, Robert rushed over to the cages and began to sing, soft and low and sad. There were tears streaming down his face as all the canaries and budgies and brightly-coloured birds fluttered to the bars to be closer to him, chirruping away.
The store owner leaned over the counter and whispered to Simon: “What’s your friend doing? Is he mad?”
“No.” Simon shrugged and turned away, walking over to Robert and tugging on his sleeve. The angel turned, surprised for a moment, then buried his face in the man’s shoulder and sobbed heavily.
“Sorry…” apologizing hastily to the store owner. “Robert, what’s the matter?”
“Oh…oh Simon…” he struggled for words. “Not…not free…no true songs…they say…they call ‘cage’…no sky, Simon, no sky!” his eyes were huge and frightened, and he clung to the man’s shirt, trying to get him to understand how much it hurt him.
“Robert…” he murmured into the angel’s ear, as the store-owner went to ring up someone else’s purchase, “I don’t think those birds could survive on their own, outside, here…”
The angel looked at him, face stricken, tears making his eyes shine. “Please…”
Simon rubbed his temples. “Robert, I can’t buy out all the store’s birds…they’d just bring in more, and it wouldn’t help anybody…”
The angel sadly hung his head and tugged on Simon’s hand. “We go…you and me, we sing of sky…we sing.” He tilted his head a little as they walked out the door. “You know sky song?”
“Robert, I don’t know any of your songs…I can’t understand them.” Simon pointed out, as they walked down the quiet, empty street towards his flat.
“I sing for you…I sing the sky.” Robert smiled, looking up at the cloudless blue and starting to sing. It didn’t have any discernable chirruping words this time, only music, and Simon couldn’t understand how the angel could form such beauty without having any words, or vocal sounds…not even an ‘ah’ or an ‘oo’.
A few minutes into the song, the angel nudged Simon gently, tapping his lips. “You sing with me…”
“Oh Robert, I can’t sing…not like you can…” the man winced, but the angel only smiled.
“All can sing.” He nodded. “Sing here,” he tapped Simon’s chest, smiling again.
“All right…I’ll try.” Simon hummed along to Robert’s tune at first, then just opened his mouth and let sounds go. He could see the angel’s face light up, and as he carried on a lower ostinato that he’d picked up, Robert’s song went higher and higher, but never grating; always sweet.
By the time they got back to his flat, the sun was setting. Simon let them in, silently, kicking off his boots and putting the groceries away. Robert carried his bags of shiny trinkets into the living room, setting them down in various places and watching the light reflect off of all of them.
“You’re really strange, you know that.” Simon grinned, settling down on the couch, gesturing for Robert to sit beside him. The angel snuggled up to his side, giggling, and the man put an arm around him. “Are all angels like you?”
“Some angels yes.” Robert nodded. “Some angels sing so happy! Some sad…most angels, nice. Some angels…” he chirruped something, and then made a strong face.
“Angry?” Simon suggested, pulling the same face.
“No angry…” Robert shook his head, and then mimicked swinging a sword.
“Oh…guardians? They protect you?”
“Protect Heaven, protect God, protect all.” Robert nodded, happy that he could make himself be understood. “Good angels.”
Simon nodded for a moment, and then stretched softly, brushing his hand against Robert’s back. “What’s with your wings, anyway? Why are they there sometimes, but not all the time?”
Robert sat forward a bit, closed his eyes, and his wings appeared. He fluttered them a little, then folded them back down, keeping them flush with his back. “Wings help fly! Hide times, make no one angry.” He smiled, and then arched away from Simon’s inquisitive fingers. “No touch! Wings…” he shuffled uncomfortably, blushing. “Wings feel.”
“They’re sensitive.” Simon mused, pulling his hand back, taking from Robert’s face that what he’d just done was like attempting to cop a cheap feel.
Robert relaxed a little more, not putting his wings away, but smiling at Simon and curling against him. The man put his arm about the angel’s shoulders again, brushing the wings accidentally, and Robert shuddered, letting out a soft, low moan. “N-no touch, Simon…”
“But why not? It can’t feel bad…” Simon raised an eyebrow, stroking more deliberately this time. Robert’s mouth fell open, eyelids fluttering shut, back arching into the touches as he gasped softly.
“Oh…oh…feel…feel good…”
“Would God get mad at you…?”
“When a-angel on earth, angel alone…” Robert murmured, eyes still shut, shivering and rubbing avidly now against Simon.
“I see...” Simon mused, brushing both hands down over the angel’s wings. Robert had slid into his lap, facing him, and was rocking against him, quaking with pleasure and moaning into the man’s chest.
“Feel good! Simon touch good…” he gasped breathlessly, and suddenly stopped. With a high-pitched cry, he clung to Simon weakly, and the man looked down to see a damp spot appear on Robert’s trousers.
“Apparently so…”
It didn’t take long for Robert to master the basics of human speech. He still chirruped words he was uncomfortable saying, and he still sang, but Simon could understand a lot more of what the angel was trying to tell him.
“Simon, I sing this.” He would say, tugging on the crook of the man’s elbow, turning him round to look. Robert would be holding pen and paper, scribbling away like mad, words in a flurry across the page. The angel would curl up for hours with a notebook, writing out music that Simon sometimes found disturbing, but always lovely. Simon sometimes took out his bass and tried to play along, but found it difficult until Robert sat him down and went over it, line by line.
“Simon, I want to play.” And so Simon brought his music friends over, introducing Robert as a foreign friend, musical progeny who wanted to experiment. The angel was shy of other people at first, then seemed to blossom with a full array of instruments at his fingertips. His rhythms and melodies drove many of Simon’s friends mad, but a few stayed; Michael remained long enough to contribute to a few demos before quitting. Mattieu came for a bit longer, and was determined to help Robert out. Finally, Laurence was too slow to know when to quit. Besides, Robert had taken a liking to the slightly duller boy, and though he didn’t make his music any simpler, he did take the time to go over things with him.
Having already released two albums and working on a third, Simon found his head reeling. Robert had mastered the English language in a few short years, and was writing music that made his head spin. The angel’s innocent personality had also become darker as he’d spent more time on earth. He was no longer the simple creature who sang to the birds and would stare at glittering objects for hours on end. He was a brooding, silent creature, who only came to Simon when he had something to tell him.
To Simon’s chagrin, Robert had also found a girlfriend: Mary Poole, who, while pretty and clever, made the man endlessly jealous. He chided the man for this, and the angel would constantly have to remind him that he loved him too. It was getting to be far too much…
It got to the point where Simon could barely stand to be in the same room as Robert. So when they accidentally got into the same cab together, their fighting grew so heated that the driver accidentally hit the gas instead of the brake, careening into the middle of the intersection…screech of tires, breaking glass, and Robert’s scream filled Simon’s senses, and then there was nothing –
Somewhere in the distance, he could hear birds chirping. Sweet, gentle notes, which seemed to fill his head with soft light. He lay content for a moment, letting those sounds flow through him, and then he opened his eyes.
Simon was surrounded by light. His head was filled with strange, hurrying thoughts, and as he stretched and turned his head towards the sound of the birds, he realized what those thoughts were: human thoughts. Yes, he had been human, he reminded himself, and there had been a car accident…
Rising to his feet, he followed the bird noises to a simple archway. He wasn’t on clouds, he realized, but the ground was soft and spongy. It looked like an archway to nowhere, but as he stepped through it, the chirping and twittering became a chorus of voices: laughing, joking, conversing, explaining, singing. Simon was nearly overwhelmed by it all. There were angels above and around him, talking amongst themselves and even to some of the others, who seemed to be only people without wings. They were hugging, talking, reminiscing…there were even some children running about, appearing to play hide-and-seek amongst the adults.
Simon didn’t recognize anyone, so he made his way politely through the crowds to thinner areas. The ground again was soft here, and he looked down to see spring grass under his feet. Heaven, it appeared, was endless nature. He could see forests and lakes far in the distance, and they were in meadows gathering close.
“But Lord, Lord, I beg you…”
Simon turned with a start, wrenched by a familiar voice: it was Robert! Robert, who was no longer fettered by the English language; Robert who was shining and clean and open; Robert whose wings trembled in fear of the form of light in front of him.
“Robert?”
The angel he had come to know turned, face attempting to smile, then became a sad expression of longing. “Simon…come to me…”
The younger man hurried over, looking up at the form of light in front of them. “Is…is that God, then?” he whispered in Robert’s ear.
The angel nodded, putting his wings around Simon, as if to shield him. “Lord,” he said again, turning to the light, “he is not meant to die, not so soon; it was my foolishness and pride that interfered with his life…”
The light flickered, and then blazed outward, sending Robert into a cringe, biting his lip. “I am sorry, Lord! But do not keep Simon here, send him back…he has so much life to live…keep me here, never let me from your sight again…I have failed…”
The light seemed to sink into itself a little, considering, and then returned to normal, and somehow – telepathically, Simon supposed – communicated with Robert. After a few moments, Robert nodded sadly and the light rose up and scattered across the fields of Heaven.
“We’re going back.” Robert said quietly, leading Simon through the throngs of overjoyed people to the archway.
“Back? But this is Heaven…shouldn’t we stay?”
“I bargained for your life…for our lives.” Robert said, sagging a little. Simon noticed several angels coming up behind him, blank and dangerous looks on their faces.
“Robin…what’s…”
“GO!” Robert shouted, pushing Simon forward through the archway. The voices vanished into thin air, becoming simple, quiet chirping sounds, and then he was falling, falling…
“Simon…Simon?”
He could hear a voice calling softly, through a haze of pain and confusion. Something was beeping above his head.
“Simon…are you awake?”
“M’awake…” he struggled to open his eyes, managing first one, and then the other. Robert’s worried face swam into view above him. “Oh…Robin…where are we?”
“In hospital.” Robert said quietly, shaking with relief as he smiled and stroked Simon’s fringe out of his face. “You wouldn’t wake…I almost thought that God had kept you…”
“Oh…so that was all real, that…that business?” Simon attempted to sit up.
“No, don’t!” Robert pushed him down again, clucking his tongue. “You’re still badly hurt. We were in a car crash, remember?”
“Oh yeah.” Simon paused. “About that…I did die…why did we come back? How did we come back?”
Robert shifted, and as Simon’s vision cleared he noticed that the other man’s skin didn’t shine anymore. His hair hung limp about his face, laced only with hairspray and not with light. His back was hunched over, as if in pain…
“Oh shit. Oh Robert, you…”
The older man closed his eyes, sinking down against the side of the bed, tears running down his cheeks.
“I can’t hear…I can’t hear them anymore, Simon. And it’s all just noise…like birds…I can’t understand them anymore.” He bit his lip, crawling across the mattress and cuddling to Simon’s side. “I’m always cold…and there’s, there’s this odd feeling in my back…”
“It’s called pain.” Simon said, a huge, sore lump in his throat. “Oh Robin…you didn’t have to…”
“I did.” Robert said, curling his head under Simon’s chin. “I had to, for you…because I love you.”
Simon put his arms around the older man as best he could, just holding him. “Oh, fuck, Robin, I love you too…love you no matter what. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Robert whispered against the younger man’s throat, lips tickling his skin. “When we go back…for good…we’ll both be angels. Again.”
“You’ll always be my special angel.” Simon chuckled softly, and Robert let out a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and they curled up together to sleep.
[THE END]