I stayed by Chris' side every second I could. From time to time, I got up to go to the bathroom or to get tea. Other than that, I was laying in that bed beside him. I preoccupied my time with a book while he slept. In dreamland was really the only place he couldn't feel pain or discomfort. Luckily, having a bad heart valve isn't overly painful. It's mostly just shortness of breath but it can lead to extreme complications, even death.

          That's why I talked him into the surgery. Every morning I wake up next to him, I feel at peace. It's the best part of my day, along with falling asleep in his arms. To think that there would be a possibility that one morning I wake up and he doesn't... Well, that's got to be my biggest new found fear. It's more than the simple word "fear" can express. It's fucking terrifying to think about.

          I'll be damned if he doesn't see another five hundred years. I made it a thousand, no excuse he can't either. Things might be on a thin wire right now but they're going to turn around. They have to. Nothing bad lasts forever. I'm only scared that what will bring an end to the sorrow could be something much worse than the pain we're currently in. I'm not just talking about Chris.

          What about Ricky and Ghost? I can't help but feel responsible for what happened. The angel in me wants to make it right. My head is telling me I'll just fuck it up worse if I try to step in. It's best if I just let them work their issues out on their own. How the fuck are they supposed to work it out if they're in separate realms? They supposedly have telepathy when they're extremely far away from each other. Maybe they have been talking? I highly doubt it.

          They can't break up. They've been together longer than any couple I know. Their minds are programmed on very old traditions, despite how non-conforming they may be. I'm sure they were taught that divorce isn't the way. Most people in the olden days would rather kill themselves than get divorced. I'm still not sure why they saw it as such an awful thing though. Regardless, I'd like to hope that Ricky and Ghost take into consideration how many good years they've had. This is just a small misstep. In all those years, I'm sure they've had worse arguments.

          "So," Chris spoke just above a whisper, "Do I get to know what's wrong with Romeo and Juliet?"

          I snickered as I lowered my tea cup from lips, "Why do you call them that?"

          Closing my book, I set it on the nightstand beside me. Though mine laid empty, Chris' was cluttered with pill bottles. Not the orange and white ones you'd see on Earth. These were old school glass bottles and pill boxes. Their medicine was just as up to date here, if not more advanced, than Earth. Yet they still prefer to keep some of the older traditions, like glass pill bottles. Maybe it's for a sense of aesthetic, considering how vane dark creatures can be.

          He sat up a little more, being cautious of the IV in his hand. I readjusted his pillow behind him as he leaned back against the headboard. Chris glanced to me, giving me that tired smile that still was so beautiful.

          "They may not be forbidden from loving each other, but they'd definitely die for one another." He responded.

          I sighed, "Unfortunately, I think what happened is more my fault than it is theirs. They may have been keeping secrets from each other, but it's my fault they had to come out the way they did. Ricky has a type of supernatural connection to their kids that he can feel their physical pain. Ghost feels their emotional pain. Ricky was the only one that knew though. He never told Ghost because he didn't want him to worry, but it also made Ghost think that his extreme mood swings had no base other than he was mentally unstable.

          When we were back in Heaven, Ghost had a pregnancy test at the hospital. It came back positive, but he only told me. He also told me he didn't want to have another unhealthy baby, and he couldn't bear to watch another child die. So, he wanted an abortion and he wanted to do it without Ricky knowing. I assumed Ricky's physical connection to his children started at birth, but it actually begins at conception. I had to find that out the hard way.

          Ricky knew Ghost was pregnant, and when we decided to take our trip, he sent Josh to follow us. It was to protect us, mostly Ghost, but it really just pissed us off. We might be the 'women' of our relationships but we can handle our own." I griped and he laughed. "What?"

          "Nothing, nothing. I know you can, but it's cute how worked up you get about it." Chris said.

          "Hey, I know I'm not the strongest ever, but I do okay for myself in shit situations." I replied.

          He leaned over and kissed my temple, "I know, Babe. You're most dangerous than people give you credit for. Anyways, go on."

          "Well, when we figured out Josh followed us, Ghost got pissed. As soon as we got back, he went to go yell at Ricky, but Ricky yelled at him instead. He apparently felt the abortion happen and he was fucking pissed about it. They started to fight, in front of everyone, including Felix. Ghost was in tears and I couldn't help myself from defending him. I told him how Ricky had been keeping from him that they both had the connections to their kids that they did. After that, Ghost ran off in tears."

          "They've had worse fights, and it wasn't your fault." He responded, seeming a little unfazed by this whole ordeal. "There's no such thing as an honest marriage. That's not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes, we have to keep things from the one we love to protect them." Chris had his hand over mine and he squeezed it. "But, it would've come out eventually. The sooner it did, the sooner they can get over it. If lies build up over time, that's when they become potent."

          "You're taking this all surprisingly well." I said.

          He shrugged, "When you're this old, and you've been through as many wars as I have, you don't worry about the smaller things that you know will come out in the wash."

          "Do you... mind me asking you questions about the war?" I asked, "I've always avoided it because you seem like you don't like to talk about it."

          Chris sighed and leaned his head against the headboard, "It's not that I don't like to talk about it. It's just... I don't know. I don't want to seem like some old vet rambling on about war, I guess. But, for you, Angel, I'll tell you anything you want."

          I softly smiled. It's been awhile since he called me that. He's been too sick, and too upset. His heart may never fully heal from losing Tokyo but he's starting to get to a point of acceptance. And for someone who's about to undergo heart surgery, he's keeping a pretty decent mood.

          "Bret mentioned to me that they were there when that suicide bomber attacked your camp. You never mentioned that before. Why? And what exactly did happen that day?" I questioned.

          "When the angels agreed to help our wounded during the war, we were still very weary of it. I trusted you from the second I met you, but that doesn't mean there weren't eyes and ears in the walls. Most angels aren't that trustworthy. No offense."

          "None taken. I didn't trust most of my own kind." I snickered.

          He snit a grin, continuing, "I knew that the other three survived the attack. That's why I didn't say anything. I didn't want anyone in the hospital to find out because I didn't know if they'd go tell a demon. I wanted them to think Bret, Max, and JC died that day. That way they would stop being hunted.

          The three of them are some of the best trained doctors I've ever met. In the war, they were one of our best weapons. Aside from healing the sick on the field, they engineered neurotoxins that didn't phase us but they destroyed demons dead in their tracks. Carmella didn't just send that suicide bomber to our camp to get her revenge on me, but she also wanted to cripple our army by taking them out.

          Where our camp was set up, it was on the edge of a cliff that overlooked a blood river. The bomber rushed directly towards their tent while they had their backs turned. He was camouflaged, so we didn't even realize he was there until the last second. It was in that last second though that Ricky managed to jump in. He pushed the three of them off the edge of the cliff, into the river below. So, now you know why he was so close to the blast that he lost his arm."

          "Oh my God." I murmured, "I had no idea he was such a martyr."

          "He doesn't see it as heroism. If there's anyone that actually doesn't like to talk about their war stories, it's Ricky. He's made the most sacrifices out of all of us. He lost almost all his children, he lost his arm, and at some point he even lost his soul. Luckily, we did get that back." He chuckled, trying to make light of the heavy air.

          "Wait, actually physically lost his soul?" I asked.

          "Yeah. He had it stolen, but Ghost got it back for him. You can't love without your soul and well, Ghost wasn't about to lose the love of his life to some demon bounty hunter."

          I'm sure Chris had plenty more to say but a knock at the door silenced him. We both looked up at the wood frame that had the fireplace's light dancing along it. Maxine slowly pushed open the door, providing us with a small smile.

          "Sorry to interrupt." She talked very softly, "Just came to check your vitals."

          If there was anyone I could compare her voice to, it would probably be Fluttershy. Not in tone, but in softness. Obviously being transgender, she had a tad of a deeper voice for a girl, but she tried her best to lighten it. She overall was very endearing to me.

          Maxine began to do the routine of checking heartbeat, temperature, things like that. "Your lungs sound much better." She stated as she pulled her stethoscope out of her ears.

          "Feel better." Chris responded, "Diuretics works like a charm."

          "It's only a temporary fix though." I said.

          "I know." He sighed.

          We've quickly become like an old married couple. At the same time, we act like we're still on our honeymoon. It's the best of both worlds and I guess that's a good sign of a good relationship.

          "You two are so sweet together." Maxine smiled.

          "I know," JC spoke as he walked into the room, "Doesn't it just make you want to puke?"

          "You're just jealous." Chris responded.

          He snit, "Yeah, that's in. Angelo, I'm going to meet with the anesthesiologist that'll be doing the surgery with me to talk over our plan. I was wondering if you'd like to come with?"

          "I'd love to." I eagerly replied. Then I kissed Chris' cheek, "I won't be gone long. Get some rest while I'm gone. I love you."

          "Yeah, yeah." He playfully griped. Then pecked my lips, "I love you too."

          As I stood up, I cracked my back a bit and stretched my wings as well as I could in this small of a space. Being on a bed that long isn't pleasant for me. I like to be active. Same goes for Chris though, so this is probably driving him insane. He'll be back to slamming me over every piece of furniture we own before he knows it. He's just got to have some patience for now.

          I pulled on my sweater and boots, following JC out to the front room. Ghost and Felix were sitting curled up on the couch. Their conversation stopped when we walked in but I caught enough of it. He was telling his son about some of the unfortunate things that have happened in his absence. It was probably a much overdue conversation.

          "His office is just around the corner. It won't be a long walk." JC informed me. He grabbed his coat from the coatrack, slipping it on smoothly.

          "Is he a vamp?" I asked.

          He held the door open for me, responding, "No. He's a dark elf, but he's the most... colorful dark elf you'll ever meet."

          I glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

          JC laughed, "You'll see. He and his brothers are characters, but it's a breath of fresh air compared to how rigged most the dark elves are."

          We began to walk down the eerie tunnel that they dared call a street. The fog was thick enough you couldn't seen more than a fifty feet in front of yourself. All you could make out was the lights of shops in the distance. The air was more than cold; it was crisp.

          "Do you like it here?" I asked, seeing my breath in front of me, "With it being this cold? Both the weather and the people?"

          "Surprisingly, yes. Dark elves are only cold to strangers. Once we were settling in the community, they treated us as one of their own. We stay inside the majority of the time, so the cold doesn't bother us. Blood is easy to get here and we don't have to hide ourselves like we would have to on Earth." He explained, "I don't understand why so many of us fled to Earth after we lost the war. It's much better here."

          "Chris seems healthier here too." I muttered. Mostly I was pointing it out to myself more than him.

          "Hell has been conditioned to be harmful for vampires. Almost all of Hell is now filled with air toxic to us. So, if he goes back there, he'll get sick. On Earth, there is no dark energy for us to live off of. Eventually, it'll take it's toll, like it did. Here, though, it's pure untainted negative energy. That's why he's feeling better. We still do need to fix his heart though."

          "Do you think it would be in our best interest to stay here? I want what's best for him." I said.

          JC stopped in front of a door, turning to me. "Speaking strictly where his health is concerned, this is the best place for him. Where his heart and head want to be, that's a different subject entirely. That's something only you and him can discuss."

          He turned towards the door in front of us. It was similar to their own; dark wood, almost black, with a frosted window in the top panel. There was intricate carvings. Woodwork and details are both something elves are well known for. He opened the door and I cautiously followed. Instantly the smell of amber, musk, and some kind of hippie-type blend hit me. This is what I can only imagine a peace lover's van smelled like in the 70s. It wasn't overbearing at all but it was distinct.

          After the office's bell rang, someone came out of one of the rooms. It was built just the same as their office. Extremely small space but somehow cozy. This gentleman, he looked a bit like Sid Vicious, except not as drug addict-y and dressed a little more formal. Of course, with the edition of pointed ears as well. By the way he looked, I honestly was expecting a British accent out of his mouth. I was shocked to be met by an American one.

          "Hello, hello. I wasn't expecting you to pop in." He said.

          "I'm here to see Emerson." JC replied.

          He sighed, "He never tells me anything."

          The elf walked towards one of the frosted glass fronted doors, knocking on it with the side of his knuckles. A moment later, the door opened. The word JC had used earlier, "colorful", it now made sense...