Dream after dream, Marianna woke up rattled and confused, sometimes disoriented, sometimes even flustered. The dreams were so.. vivid. She felt as if she were there.
Reliving memories that were not her own, but Anahera’s.
She could feel every emotion, every scar and marking that carved not only his body but his heart.
Why?
Was it because he was her guardian angel? She had so many questions, but the person that could possibly help her understand the dreams from her perspective was still in a coma.
“Hera, what is going through you’re head?”
———
The first dream of Anahera's that invades her sleeping mind is painful. More painful than any pain she could have experienced through Anahera. In this dream, she watches as a young Hera argues with his superior about going to hell to rescue the trapped angels in hell, including his brother, Aoith.
Aoith..
She wonders… no, he will be okay.
He is in good hands.
He has to be, right?
For Anahera’s sake.
Continuing with the dream, she is swarmed with the sudden emotions of frustration as it seems to Anahera that the angel Michael is refusing the younger angel access to hell.
With every comment of defiance and argument, it seems to anger Michael more, punishing Anahera for his lack of faith.
Marianna wants nothing more to die on the spot as the familiar warmth of white light that helped her sister— burns her to her core. She feels as if she is burning from the inside out.
“A-Ahh..!”
She begins clawing at her chest with her nails, trying to breathe despite the pain in her chest, she would cry out in agony, despite her cries falling on deaf ears.
She can feel everything.
She admires Anahera for being so strong willed for those close to him, but the pain is nearly unbearable. Just as she feels another wave of warning light threatening to punish Hera again, another Angel, Chamuel appears, trying to defuse the situation.
Stubborn. Anahera is stubborn.
She understands why…
She would have done the same if her sisters were in danger. However, why were the Archangels so against Anahera leaving? Was it because they knew what would happen to Anahera if he would go?
——-
The next dream was much more pleasant—
She finds herself floating in the clouds. If it wasn't for her reminding herself that it was a dream, she would have surely panicked being so high in the sky.
Below her, she spots two familiar looking angels. Anahera and a much healthier, happier Aoith..
“Oh Aoith..” she whispers softly as she stands by the brothers quietly.
It is strange seeing this side of Anahera. He is carefree, playful, happier than she had ever seen him.
This memory appears to be when he was much younger, seeing that any scars that he currently has are not visible through the neckline of his robe.
This must be before the angels were sent to hell?
She watches quietly as the brothers interact and can’t help but giggle and smile as she watches the young angels play and race each other in the sky.
Their relationship is strong when it comes time for when they are met with Michael. Marianna’s smile begins to fade.
Aoith is given the mission to go to Hell... for what reason she wonders? Anahera’s thought tells her it wasn’t for normal angels, so why was Aoith sent?
They sent lambs to be slaughtered…
Her mind is spinning as her thoughts as well as Anahera’s intermingle within her consciousness.
She can’t help but watch painfully as the two loving brothers chatter and race once again, unknowingly to them at the time what would happen in the future.
——
The third dream, was.. horrifying.
It seemed Anahera was reliving his descent to hell— how he got all of his scars. She began to think back on Anahera’s story, and this dream was much more detailed than anything Hera had vaguely described in his story to her.
She watches helplessly on the sidelines as Hera passes through the Sentinels protecting the gates to Hell swiftly.
She feels an overwhelming sense of dread, her heart begins to beat rapidly at the slight feeling of anxiety.
“Hell is even more hideous than I could have dreamed. It's hard to even describe how horrible it is.”
The further Anahera goes into hell, the more she can feel his hatred and frustration building. It is... chilling. It is as intense as his emotions when he went over the edge at the coven house. This is not the younger angel she had seen the other night flying carefree with his brother… This is a stranger.
Marianna feels the world around her spin as she tries not to gag at the sudden flood of rotting flesh filling her lungs. She feels tears form in the corner of her eyes as she does her best to not become overwhelmed by the bloody scene in front of her.
Is this what they were doing to Aoith all these years?
Tormenting them to no end? Predators toying with their food? Is this what Shayton would have done to Lucia?
She wants to throw up.
It is all becoming too much.
The screaming.
It is so loud she can barely keep up with Anahera’s inner thoughts as he begins to fight off Folster’s subordinates.
Once the first two waves of demons are cleared, he frees some of his friends which help to save more as he continues to fend off more foes.
The fight continues for what seems like centuries, and it seems as though Anahera has the upper hand until—
“ANAHERA!” Marianna shrieks as demons land a blow to his shoulder, tear a precious feather, and bite his leg.
Marianna is breathing heavily as she begins to feel every wound inflicted on her angel. Her lungs burn from crying out in pain. This is much, much more painful than the threatening light from Michael in the first dream.
She continues to cry out and writhe as Anahera continues to fight, fighting until it seems the demons begin to take over. She feels her whole body burning once again.
Although she has no physical injuries, she wakes up screaming in cold sweat.
Her body still tingling from the ghostly Inflicted wounds and bites all over her body.
Once she manages to calm her beating heart, her dream continues—-
Burning. Slashing. Stabbing. Stinging. Wrenching. Tearing. Scratching. Aching. Thudding. Ripping. And warmth.
White and red and black and yellow and orange. And gold.
Screaming and laughing and snapping and slucking and gurgling and ringing. And roaring.
what
i can't i can't i can't
new screaming?
commands?
cheering?
help help help
help?
it's bright. but good bright.
that's not pain. that's nice.
it's stopped.
what?
a name. that's my name.
i know that voice.
yes?
no.
they're safe? good. that's all that matters.
—-
The next dream is different from the previous nights. It’s special…
It’s his memories… with her.
She finds herself back at the Brown Hotel, at the historical ball that the city had posted and the duo had gone to.
It takes her a moment to focus on her surroundings as she listens to Anahera’s inner thoughts. He seems… nervous? Why would he be nervous?
Oh.
In unison, she turns to face a voice calling out to Anahera; her voice.
She feels emotions that are not her own, but Anahera’s.
How can she be this beautiful. This shouldn't be possible.
A blush quickly covers her dream cheeks. Back then, she had thought he was just being nice to make her feel more comfortable dressing up in the costume, but.. he really considered her beautiful at that moment?
Before she can turn to study Anahera’s expression further, the scene in the dream quickly changes to the duo on the balcony later that night.
She could slap herself silly for allowing herself to get drunk.
But… Hera, the way he looks at her that night.
Why did she have to be so stupid?
"Anahera, how do you do that... How do you know of all of the right things to say... hiccup and make me feel so weird inside."
"Anahera... you have bewitched me... I've never let a man get this close to me, yet here you are."
It was strange listening to herself slur her words as she got closer to Anahera, his once calm and loving emotions turning quickly into confusion and regret. He feels as if he took advantage of her in her current state?
What?
“Hera, no-“
She unconsciously reaches out to stop a quickly retreating Anahera, only to have her hand fade through his shoulder. Ah. That’s right. This is a dream.
She retracts her hand and stares at the emptiness inside of it. So this is where the confusion in their relationship started.
At that time, she had desired him.
Her heart is pounding.
—-
The dream continues to show flashbacks of the aftermath of the party.
Her confusion on Anahera’s beginning avoidance of her. He was trying to protect himself from desiring her as well. He was an angel after all, he shouldn’t be lusting for her or having anything other than platonic feelings. That didn’t seem like the case however. Anytime they crossed paths, she could feel his heart begin to race… His emotions were confused back then.
Suddenly she finds herself watching the alley scene all over again. She hugs herself as she shivers. Shayton had pinned her against the wall, preventing her from escaping the night she was leaving work. Anahera was supposed to meet her to walk home so she wasn’t walking home so late, but unfortunately he was late.
She watches, disgusted, as she has to relive the teasing Shayton had done, causing her to squirm where she stands, only to have a slight wave of relief once Anahera makes his appearance.
The scene plays out in a blur as if someone has hit fast forward on a movie tape. She can feel the intense wave of emotions as he is still conflicted with his feelings for Marianna, unable to think straight, and the sudden reveal of Aoith’s mark that was gifted to him for protection so long ago.
Aoith...
No...
Marianna!
Shayton.
Too much is going on. She feels as if her head will split into two.
The alley... Blind with rage at Shayton touching Marianna, I had torn apart an invincible magic spell with my bare hands.
Pain.
Light.
Sparks.
PAIN.
RAGE.
Why did Anahera’s body and mind try so hard to block the memory of Aoith being trapped in hell?
——
Next sequence takes her back to the night she discovered Anahera’s scars. She knew more personally, now, how he received them. Her heart aches as she begins to realize just how much the angel was dealing with emotionally. He was battling with his own thoughts and worries.
She's safe. I made her safe. I failed before to keep those I care about safe, but I succeeded now, and Marianna, the most important person to me, is alive because of me.
He is exhausted. She barely scratched the surface of what was going on with him that night. She feels even more guilty as she continues to listen to his thoughts.
“I... I was really worried about you… You were out all night, a-and you still have blood on yourself... You don't need to strain yourself.”
Don't need to strain myself? How little she knows. I'm still depleted from the amount of power I used to protect our home before I left, and I can barely stand from the exhaustion which is caused even more by emotions than physical strain.
She bites her bottom lip slightly as she watches herself begin to question the many scars covering Anahera’s back. She shivers as she feels Anahera’s walls begin to falter. He was falling for her.
She was so oblivious to how much she tormented him. But she was also his relaxing strength.
He still wants to distance himself in order to protect her… but what about him? He already has lost so many…
Oh, Hera…
——
Marianna feels uneasy as she finds herself back at the apartment once again. This had been the breaking point of their relationship.
Anahera had been so determined to protect Marianna at that time, he hadn’t realized how much she was truly suffering…
He loved her.
He loved her so much, he couldn't risk putting her in harm's way.
Is this why he was so strict with her?
She feels pain in her heart as she watches the memory of them getting into that heated argument one of the days he actually returns home.
She was past her breaking point at that time. She was confused and hurt. Why would he share things about himself only to lock her away. She only saw red and didn’t consider his reasoning. She spoke words that were not true and were only aimed to cause him harm like she felt in her past state.
"I can't stand being treated like a dog anymore. I sit and stay like you have ordered me for weeks! I can't take it anymore."
I was angry…
"I feel like a goddamn prisoner in this godforsaken place, Anahera. Fuck, I can't even open the freaking window to get some fresh air!"
Why did I curse at him… I never cursed or yelled at him like that…
"You. Can go, wherever—whenever you please while I have to stay here alone! You said you would protect me. But all you're doing is making me a prisoner in our own home!"
I missed you... Hera... I’m sorry.
"I'm going outside, whether you like it or not. I don't care anymore! If that demon wanted me so badly, he would have already found ME!"
She bites her lip once again as she watches the pot begin to boil over. Anahera is full of rage. He was never angry or violent with her. Not until she pushes him over the edge.
Everything happens so quickly, she begins to become overwhelmed with the rage that ignites within Anahera that is quickly whipped away by a hard,
SLAP
Her cheek stings as she presses a palm to it.
"I wish I would have never met you Anahera Golden Wings. I...I wish I would have never had feelings for you to begin with!"
She hadn't meant it.
Please, stop...
No.
Come back!
She isn't able to appreciate the beauty of Heaven as Anahera storms to Michael, demanding the power to rescue her. He had been so angry…
The feeling of the power of his new rank being bestowed on him is breathtaking, but it's more than overwhelmed by the pain of the Sacred Flame. This is what he has been experiencing since rescuing Lucia? This pain is worse than Michael's light. How was he even able to stand after he had received the Flame?
The flashbacks became more painful as she begins to experience Anahera’s pain and anger of her trying to end her life at the penthouse where Shayton had kidnapped her. All Anahera’s promises to her went down the drain.
She was scared... but Anahera promised he would protect her. He. Was. There.
Why did she jump?
Her heart threatens to break almost as much as Anahera’s as he shares his pains of her lack of faith in him. The promises they made. The trust she broke.
She has no excuse.
It wasn’t until the night at the coven did their relationship begin to heal, even slightly. The night Lucia was kidnapped and they were forced to work together to find her.
Although part of her was afraid, Anahera needed her. He had suffered alone for so long. She couldn’t bear to watch him idly on the sidelines.
"I'm here. You are not a monster. I am not scared of you."
She meant it. She will make it up to him and keep her promises. There is no going back. She wants him there in her life.
—-
This time, Marianna is back in the club. A blush furiously spreads against her cheeks as she relives the heated moment between them.
Her rapid breaths match Anahera’s as she begins to become hyper aware of her own touches on his skin.
I want nothing more than to pull her body flush against mine until there isn't a glint of dim purple light between us, but shit I can't on so many levels.
Desire.
She squirms slightly in her standing position, heat pooling in her, as she glances down and watches Anahera’s wandering hands.
Gulp.
She wanted to be touched by him again.
She wanted to hear the rasp of his voice as he melted with her touch.
She—
No. They couldn’t. Could they?
No!
They had Shayton to worry about.
—I don't want to stop though. I want to whisk this woman away to a place where there aren't a dozen hungry eyes locked on her and find out what other noises I can make her make.
The heat on her cheeks quickly spreads to her ears.
The intensity of his desire for her.
Is it… is it still like this?
Although this is a dream, every thought Anahera has causes her to become more hyper aware of their touches.
—-
She felt as if she would melt away right then and there in that dream, succumbing to her growing desires for the angel… only to have it transition once again.
Finally, they are back at the apartment—
The day that Anahera fell into a coma. She is swarmed with his innermost thoughts of the previous events.
Exhaustion,
panic,
pain,
rage,
confusion,
understanding,
love…
The months of memories from before that disastrous ball flood into my mind. Strangers to flatmates to friends to maybe more. Slowly, over months of growth and then over the last several months flying by, I had finally found out just how marvelous Marianna Davis is.
Hera…
Her intelligence. Her kindness. Her strength and confidence yet gentleness. Her patience. Her stubbornness and commitment. Her love for her family. Her compassion toward me. Her breathtaking physical beauty and magnificent internal beauty.
She feels tears form.
She fills me with life. Wakes me up. I don't want to live--I don't want to breath--unless I feel her next to me. She takes the pain I feel and replaces it with light. Comforts me. I was dead wrong to ever doubt her. I should have known better than to let the words of a demon tempt me away from the truth of who she is, but that's over now.
I adore her.
Her smile. Her laugh. The light in her eyes. His name from her lips. His desire to say…
He... loves me?
Marianna feels a warmth take over her body as she begins to cry.
He really…?
Truely?
Hera…