Work Text:
A companion to "The Blessing".
AU where the fall was real.
The Angels
The wind
Howls
Tears
Screams
Its way through the rooftops
With clawed
Hands
That threaten
To shove him off
And swallow him up,
Gulp
Gnash
Gone,
And the edge seems so tempting,
Perhaps because he cares
For them
Or wants to play the hero
Because the script has been scrambled
And he doesn't know
Which part is his
Anymore,
Or simply wants it all to be over,
Or he does not want to live his life in boredom
Without the man
Sprawled on the ground
Missing the back of his head,
Or he is scared
That his purpose is gone
That he does not mean anything anymore
To anyone
Except the wind
Whispering
In his ear
And slitting his skin,
But he does not see
Anything
But the ledge
Just a few steps away,
Maybe one and a half
Or two and three quarters
And suddenly he thinks
It might just be snowing
Because everything is
White
And cold
Except the edge
Which beckons
Like a warm hearth
With welcoming heat
At the end of the day,
So he walks
Upright
Or stumbles,
Disjointed,
To the very edge
And steps
Right off
The end
Into the wind,
And for the first time
In his
Entire life
He is utterly
At peace
Because he is not thinking,
His mind is blank
For the first time
In a long while,
And as the ground approaches
Quickly
Rushing
Looming
He remembers
That he may be on the side of the angels,
But he is not one of them,
And never has been,
And those who are not angels
Do not have wings
And cannot fly.