Hospital rooms always seemed cold for some reason. Whether they actually were or not, Zephan wasn't sure. He had spent a lot of time in hospital rooms since being charged with this human because of his heart and in all that time, the rooms always felt cold to him. Maybe it was because Death always stalked hospital floors, waiting for the next soul to be taken on to the next realm. He began fearing hospitals as soon as he realized he cared for George more than he should. He gave more than one hundred percent to make sure that this human –his human- stayed alive. That was probably his downfall. He messed up a lot when he tried to do good and that had never been a problem before. Maybe it was because he was trying too hard.

But that was how they got to be back in the hospital this time. George had had a small, very small bottle of alcohol and had gotten too worked up. His heart began giving out and, being the good guardian angel he was, Zephan gave him one of his pills. Well, nitroglycerin and alcohol don't mix very well. That was learned the hard way.

Zephan had almost lost George for the second time since the human had been able to see him and they started a relationship. He was messing up more than he should be and it would be all his fault if the toy maker died.

People had come in and out of the room, Bryan and Margret from the store and even Margret's son, Tony. Even a lot of the customers had shown up. Flowers were in vases and pots, stuffed animals were everywhere the flowers weren't and cards, both handmade and bought, were stuck in between. But George couldn't appreciate them or thank the people who brought them from him because he hadn't woken up since that dreadful day almost a week ago. The angel never left his side.

When George had been rushed into the hospital he was almost immediately taken into emergency surgery. The doctors placed a pace maker into his chest, an item George had been denying a need for for years. Even then Zephan hadn't left him alone. And even there the room was cold.

Zephan was dozing in a chair by the bed, his knees pulled to his chest, cheek resting on one of the knees. What woke him wasn't the steady but quick beating of George's heart or the sound of the machine that was helping him breath. It wasn't the janitor passing by the room or the nurse who walked in to check his signs, write them down then leave. No, it wasn't any of those things. The room had gotten colder and it almost seemed… quieter. That was what woke the guardian from his sleep.

He knew the feeling all too well, the whole scenario was one that was very familiar to him. He swallowed hard and stood up, almost expecting to see fog roll in through the door, but it didn't. That was all a superstition.

A man walked in though. He was an ordinary looking man, not overly daunting at his mere five feet eleven inches, his slightly tanned skin wasn't store bought but it sure wasn't pale and he was toned. So much for the skeletal fiend in the black cloak. He wasn't even wearing black! And he had hair on his fleshy scalp, a thick mass of dirty blonde. His eyes though… those were unsettling. Dead and cold and dark brown. The look was purposeful, as Zephan knew, to show that he was neither of Heaven nor Hell, just a spirit needed by both to bring in the dead to their final place of rest.
His showing up did not bode well for Zephan, not at all.

"Death…" whispered the guardian.

Death gave a small smile. He was a sweet man with a nice face despite what his job title was. As Death enjoyed saying, he didn't want to scare the souls he was in charge of dragging around. He didn't want their passing to be traumatizing, he wanted them to pass on to the next life with ease, maybe even look to it. "Please,
Zephan, call me Samael, I've told you that a million times before."

Zephan nodded slowly, his blue eyes never leaving the dark ones of the man who stood in the door way.

They had what equated as a stare off, though Samael was smiling the entire time.
He knew why he was there and he was going to do just that, no matter how much staring the guardian did.

"You can't have him," Zephan finally said, reaching down and taking a hold of
George's wrist as if it would help anything.

Samael grabbed the chair from by the wall and carried it over to the side of the bed that wasn't occupied. He set the chair down, letting the legs make their trademark thudding as they touched down, then took a seat. "Please, sit." He motioned to the chair that sat behind the angel, the one he'd almost fallen asleep in.

Zephan looked skeptical for a moment then took a seat, fingers still wrapped around the wrist. He could feel the plastic hospital band crunched against his flesh.

"You can't--"

"I know, I can't have him," Death interrupted, "I heard you the first time."

Even the sound of his voice was calming but Zephan was determined not to fall for it. He remained tense in his chair, ready to fight for his lover's soul.

"I hate breaking up two lovers." He sighed. "It tears my soul apart when they beg to say good bye just one more time before they go. But what bothers me more than breaking up human lovers is when a comrade, one of my brethren, in a way, is being torn from his or her human love."

Zephan looked down for a moment. There was a reason why those in the immortal realm of Heaven weren't supposed to fall in love with humans. God supported them falling in love because in the big guy's opinion, love was the greatest thing he had created. But he did frown on falling in love with humans. Sure, a normal Angel could love a human and when that human was old, possibly have them in Heaven but guardians were a little more tricky. Once their human died, they were assigned to a new one. There was no spending eternity in Heaven with the spirit. That was their fate.

A saying passed through the angel's mind: there are only two things for sure in life,
death and taxes.

And here was Death.

"Rest yourself, Zephan, I'm not here for the man just yet."

The boyish angel lifted his head, eyes wide. "You're-you're not?"
Death raised an eyebrow, "You sound almost like you want me to take him."

Zephan almost jumped out of his seat and on top of the human just to prove that he wanted to keep George.

Samael laughed. "Calm down, calm down." He cleared his throat. "But you know… he is overdue… The big man is on my case for his soul."

"What?" the word came out as an astonished whisper.

Death nodded. "I've been putting it off, letting you win. Well, when he tried to commit suicide, he saved himself. You not able to save him was not my doing. But God wants him."

"I-I-I won't let you have him!"

"Zephan, believe me when I tell you that I don't want to take him. But my job is my job just as yours is your job. Now… St. Peter owes me a favor. I can get him to change the date of death in the book for this buddy here, make it permanent. My changes just delay them upstairs." He shrugged. "But you'd have to give me something in exchange."

The guardian was all over the deal. He didn't care what he had to do to keep his human alive and to be with him as long as he could. "What do you want?"

"I want your wings."

Now, it was common knowledge that Death, also known as Samael, was made with no wings. God decided that it would be useless to give Samael wings because of what he was going to do for the rest of eternity. Why give him wings when he wasn't an Angel and he wasn't a Hellion? Because of this, Death was extremely envious of those with wings. Why shouldn't he have wings when chickens and turkeys and ostriches and other flightless birds had them? It was like God was laughing in his face!

Zephan shook his head. "I can't," he explained, "I wouldn't be able to do my job very well without them." He fell quiet for a moment, thinking it over. "But what if…" could he bring himself to finish that thought? Well, he'd have to, he already started it. "What if I could get you someone else's wings?"

"There's no place in Heaven for traitors, Zephan."

He swallowed hard. He knew what that meant. He'd be kicked out of Heaven if he cut off an Angel's wings and would then become a Fallen Guardian. He didn't want that. But… if he didn't actually do the cutting and killing… then it wasn't his fault. And he knew someone who had a taste for killing Angels. He could do it, he could definitely do it.

"That's fine. I'll get you your wings and you extend his life seventy two years and none of this… bad stuff happening to him. I want him to live as healthy of a life as he can with his heart condition."

Death nodded. "All right," he stood and held his hand out to Zephan. "It's a deal."

The angel stood and took the out stretched hand, shaking it. "Deal." And then he was alone in the room. Death was like that. There one moment gone the next. It was a bit unsettling.

Zephan looked down at George and sighed softly. He was going to be leaving the toy maker for the first time in almost a week. But it was for the greater good. He leaned down and pressed his lips to George's forehead. "I'll be back, I promise. And when I come back, everything will be better."

It took a lot to get Zephan to walk up to the open garage that was attached to the large log cabin in the trees. Carrighan didn't like the guardian angel and frankly,
Zephan was scared shitless of the Hellion. But, when you wanted Angel wings, wasn't an Angel Killer the best place to go?

The golden winged boy didn't even have to get close to the garage for Carrighan to notice he was there. It was that aura, that god damned aura that the Angel of Hell couldn't stand.

"Go away, Zephan!" he called out from under the 1970 Hemi Cuda.

The guardian stopped where he was. "Carrighan… I need your help."

"Not interested!"

Zephan sighed, but he wasn't going to give up on this. He needed those wings but he couldn't do it himself. "Please! I really need your help!"

"Like I said…" there was a grunt and a few seconds later Carrighan was standing at the end of the car, wiping his hands on a rag. "I'm not interested."

"I… I… I'm not leaving until you agree to help me!" That could have been called a bluff, but then at the same time it couldn't. Zephan was torn between actually keeping to those words and flying back to the 'sleeping' George.

Carrighan frowned and crossed his arms over his bare chest, leaning back against the car. "You're going to leave whether I have to throw you out or not."

"I'll just come back! I mean it!" He took a step towards Carrighan, heart racing.

The Hellion sighed. "What do you want? Why can't you just ask Demetrios to do it?
He likes your annoying ass."

"He… he can't help me…" Zephan looked down.

"What? Are you having issues getting it up or something?"

The guardian looked up with a deep blush across his cheeks. "No! We haven't gotten that far yet!"

Carrighan smirked, "Not sure how to get to that stage?" He pushed off of the back of the car and slowly walked towards the blushing angel. "You have to be seductive and alluring. And sometimes, if you really want something, you have to take it. Start by kissing him, you guys are kissing right?" He didn't wait for an answer.
"Whatever, just start by kissing him, then move to kiss his neck, slowly down to his shoulder. Let your hands--"

"Stop!" Zephan yelled. He was bright red. "I'm not here for advice on… sex! I-I'm sure I could figure that one out on my own…" He looked down, wondering for a moment if he was going to get to keep George around long enough to get to that sort of thing. The image of standing by idly at George's funeral gave him new courage. He looked up, looking the famed Angel of Hell straight in the eye. "I need a set of Angel wings."

Carrighan raised an eyebrow as he looked back at the shorter one. "You what?"

"I need a pair of Angel wings without the Angel."

"You have a pair of Angel wings; quite the pretty ones too." Oh gross, he just gave the kid a compliment. That was going to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

"No, no, I need… I need another pair of wings."

The Hellion was silent for a few moments, trying to come up with a reason as to why this guardian angel would need a pair of Angel wings. At that moment, he
wished he could read people's minds just to find out things he wanted to know.
"What do you need another pair of Angel wings for?"

Zephan looked down, almost ashamed by the situation and having to explain it. "I made a deal with Death."

Carrighan again raised an eyebrow. "Death?"

Zephan nodded. "George's life should have ended a little while ago, but Death has been postponing it. George is in the hospital now, in a coma. Death said… if I got him a pair of Angel wings he would have St. Peter reassign his death to happen in another seventy two years. I can't lose him Carrighan! Please! Help me!"

Carrighan crossed his arms over his chest once more, looking the guardian angel over. "Why don't you just do it yourself?"

"I can't… I don't want to be kicked out of Heaven." He looked up, his blue eyes shimmering with tears. "You-you'd do anything for Demetrios, wouldn't you?"
Oh, that was a low blow. But despite it, Carrighan didn't react.

"I would do anything for George, but killing an Angel and becoming a Fallen… would get me trapped in Hell and I would never see my human again." He rubbed his hands together nervously. "So I'm bringing myself to you to… to help me." He walked up to Carrighan and fell to him knees in front of him.

Carrighan pulled back, face contorted in disgust, his mind –as always- falling into the gutter. But Zephan continued down, bowing in front of the Hellion. Carrighan
relaxed slightly. "What're you doing?"

"I'm begging you to help me. I-I-I'll do anything!"

Carrighan stared down at the guardian. It was really kind of pathetic to see him doing that and while he liked it, he felt a bit bad for him. It had to have taken a lot of guts for him to come ask for help. The things people did for love. "Fine; but I'm holding you to the doing anything thing."

Zephan looked up and nodded. "Of course! Name what you want and I'll do it!"

Carrighan shook his head. "I'll call on it when I need it. Now get off of my property. I'll bring you the wings when I have them."

"But--"

"I know; George is in the hospital. Need to get them a s a p, right?" He waved a hand, dismissing the guardian.

---- ---- ---- ---- ----

"Where are you going?" Deme asked a freshly showered Carrighan as he walked
down the stairs.

"Out. I'll be back in a few days."

Demetrios jumped up from the couch, "Carri--"

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"Then where are you going?"

Carrighan stopped and looked at his love. "Love makes people do stupid things, but guilt trips make people do even stupider things."

"Guilt trip… you?" he didn't believe it.

"I'll explain when I get back." He closed the door behind him, leaving the Angel alone with a small pout.

---- ---- ---- ---- ----

George was still out a few days later, as the doctors thought he would be. Zephan hadn't left his side and waited patiently. Well, if looking towards the door every five
minutes counted as being patient.

He sighed and leaned his forehead against his knees as his arms held his legs up by his chest. Carrighan wasn't coming and he was going to lose his human to a death that could have been prevented. He wondered how long it would take for
Death to show up for the man's soul to take him to St Peter. He was stupid for trusting Carrighan to help him.

Outside, the wind howled as a hurricane was building.

George always loved storms and used to get too excited over them. Lightening was his favorite part. The thought just depressed the guardian angel farther and he brought his hands up to cover his ears.

In that moment, though, the danger radar that lived in his head went off.
Something bad was about to happen. Zephan quickly became invisible and covered the unconscious toy maker as best he could, covering his exposed head.

The window shattered a minute later sending glass everywhere. Zephan buried his head in the pillow below him to keep from getting any in his eyes as the shards flew at him. When everything has settled, save for the wind and rain flushing into the room, he sat up a bit, looking into the mess. Amongst the glass was the black winged Angel of Hell. He had a bag in his hand as he stood up, shaking off the glass.

"I hate when that happens."

Zephan's attention went to the door and the hallway beyond it; there was a loud commotion and people were running towards the room. "Get in the bathroom!" He hissed as he became visible.

Carrighan nodded and dodged into the bathroom just as the first of the nurses came in through the door.

"What's going on here?!" She asked loudly to be heard over the wind. About six of them gathered around the bed and began unhooking machines to move the patient down the hall to a new room.

"I was by the window and noticed a limb or something flying towards the hospital.
To be safe I covered George!" he replied, still covering the shop owner and once more visible.

They began to push the bed from the room. It didn't take them long to get George hooked up in a new room. They shooed the guardian from the room as they checked vitals and cleaned glass from the bed. He could hear them talking about the mess and wondering where the limb went.

Zephan slipped down the hall after making it so no one would notice him, and stepped into the old room where they were already cleaning and taping up the window. He passed by them and in through the bathroom door.

Carrighan was sitting on the toilet. Once the angel was in the small room he held up the bag. Zephan could see the blood stains that were blending in with the wetness.
"Here, I got them for you. Don't say I never did anything for your ass."

Zephan took the bag and untied it, looking into the darkness. There was a pair of Angel wings there. Zephan grinned. "Thank you!"

Carrighan waved a hand to dismiss it. "You owe me. Don't forget." He stood up and cracked the door, looking out at all the people. "Fuck, how am I supposed to get out
of here?"

"I'll take care of it."

"No! No way! I am not using the favor you owe me to get out of here. I'll do that myself!"

"Consider it free of charge." Zephan smiled and suddenly everyone in the room on the other side of the door remembered they had something else to do and had to get to it. They all left.

"Damn you're good." Carrighan pushed the door open and stepped out, letting his wings stretch.

"It comes with the territory," Zephan said as he left the bathroom, looking over the large wing span. They were easily at least three times the size of his own small wings. But he decided not to say anything about it. "Thank you again."

Carrighan headed for the window, tearing down half of the plastic that was covering it. "Tell Death I said hi and that he should come over for dinner one day."
He smirked and jumped out the window.

Zephan again looked into the bag. He actually felt happy when the room became really cold that time. He had secured George's future and postponed fate.