Mando grunted, and dragged the angel behind him, the child tied up in his cape. It wasn't necessarily hard to move the angel, actually, take that back. It was absolutely hard to move the angel. Especially when he had metal in his leg and a blaster shot through his arm and something that burned in his chest. 

Mando sighed. He did that a lot lately. And they never seemed to happen in particularly good. situations.

The Mandalorian heaved the angel up onto the cot in his room. The walls vibrated slightly as the ship floated through space, and it rattled the bed slightly. Meklar laid on the bed, silent, unconscious, and Mando started to leave to tend to his wounds, leaving the child asleep in the angel's arms. 

But suddenly, a bright silver light shone from the angel's eyes and chest, and the chocolate wings unfurled to spread, although they hit the walls and ceiling. Mando stepped back, wary of the feathered appendages, and when he saw the feathers sharpen, he backed away faster. 

And by sharpen, he literally meant sharpen. The feathers straightened out and pointed into sharp ends. Mando was afraid that if he touched one, it would cut his whole finger off. So he stayed back, armor pressed into the metal walls, hands splayed back, not moving, not touching anything except what was between him and escaping the room. 

"Angel?" Mando rasped out. Meklar's wing twitched, and Mando took that as a sign to continue. "Angel are you okay?"

Meklar's body rolled to the side, and the bundle of sleeping green baby almost rolled off onto the floor, but Mando dove down to catch him at the last minute. Mando grunted and gasped as his injured leg and arm burned in pain. "Gah-dammit." 

Meklar's wings curled back up as he heard the pained sound that the Mandalorian had made, almost as if he had hurt the Warrior. A small frown cursed his fragile features. 

"Angel? Are you--Meklar?" Mando gasped as he saw the angel cower in the corner of the bed, trembling and panting. 

The bright light that shone in Meklar's eyes and chest was blinking in and out, like a faulty bulb. The angel's jaw clenched together and his hands pushed at the sides of his head. Whimpering came from the corner that he was trying to box himself in. 

Mando stood and grunted, limping as he went to set the child in the empty hamper that sat by the door. Where else am I going to put you??

Mando shuffled back to the angel, who now he could see, silver-blue tear leaked down the side of his face and landed on Mando's gloved, which was under Mekar's chin, lifting his face towards the dim lights that shone above on the ceiling. 

Meklar shuddered when Mando touched him, and suddenly the lights in his eyes dimmed to a faint glow, and his face and body visibly relaxed. The angel's eyes closed completely, then opened once again to be the same old green eyes that Mando had spent too long looking at these past few days. Meklar smiled, but frowned when he looked at Mando's wounds. 

"How do you continue to get yourself hurt so easily?" the angel's voice was silent but loud all at the same time. 

"I don't know, why do you keep doing weird things every time that I look away?" the Mandalorian asked back, grimacing as the angel's hand hovered over the blaster wound on his arm. 

As if Meklar had seen the grimace, he looked back up to the visor of the helmet, narrowing his eyes at the Warrior. It was, cute. 

"I am not cute, Mandalorian. I am absolutely terrifying." 

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that."

"I am completely serious. If you had seen me in my true form, you would think so as well. I can be very intimidating."

"Well I'm completely serious as well. You're adorable. And always very intimidating." 

Meklar teasingly sneered and squinted his eyes at the Mandalorian, who was grinning silently behind the helmet. The grin turned into a grimace as the angel's hand completely touched the area below the wound on his arm. Mando hissed through his teeth in pain, and set his jaw, clenching his fists at his side. 

"Lay down, I have to heal you." Meklar stated.

"No, I can do it myself." Mando retorted.

"Lay down."

"I don't want to."

"Now."

Silence.

"Okay."

Mando laid down on the thin cot and let his head fall back. Meklar kneeled next to the bed and the Warrior's eyes snapped to the angel, who's hands were on his knee. The armor was in between his skin and the angel's, but he could still feel electricity course through him.

"I need to take this armor off if I'm going to heal you," Meklar stated. 

There was silence. 

"May I?"

The Mandalorian cleared his throat. "Y-Yeah."

Meklar eyed the warrior gently, and traced his hands on the armor before removing it from the Mandalorian's leg. 

The flesh around Mando's leg was read with blood and inflamed, the metal there burning, and Mando jolted with pain as the angel touched just above and below the wound. "I'm sorry," Meklar winced as he felt the pain within him, caused by their bond they had with one another. "I'll be careful."

"You're fine." Mando said through gritted teeth. "Just hurts a little bit."

Meklar raised an eyebrow. "A little bit?"

"Yeah."

"Really?"

Mando huffed and and looked right at the angel. "Fine! A lot bit! It hurts a lot bit!"

Meklar smiled and shook his head, muttering something in another language that he didn't understand. 

"Relax, love."

Love?

Meklar smiled gently, and set his jaw as he attempted to focus on the wound in front of him. 

"I'm sorry I touched your wings earlier."

Meklar stopped. "Why?"

His voice was monotone, yet full of confusion, and a hint of something that Mando thought was sadness. 

"I didn't think that you wanted me to." Mando sighed, quiet and calculating as he inspected the angel's face shift. 

Silence.

"Well I did," Meklar forced out, his face red and his eyes downcast. 

Mando's lip twitched up, as did his eyebrows. 

"Will you tell me what happened?" 

"What do you mean?" the angel's eyes widened and his head shot up.

"With your wings," Mando clarified. 

"O-oh." Meklar cleared his throat. "Wings are a very erogenous zone."

Mando was silent, knowing all of this, and only wanting to hear it out loud. Only teasing the flustered angel who just happened to be the Warrior's soul mate. 

"So if you know where to touch them..." Meklar continued, his hand making its way up Mando's leg. It passed his thigh, his hips, which strained to stay still. Past his armored abs and up to his chest, and it stopped at his neck, which was the least bit of him armored at the moment. Mando swallowed. 

"...You can get just the right reaction." Meklar let his fingers graze over Mando's neck, and flutter under the thin collar of the shirt that the Warrior wore. Mando's pulse throbbed underneath the shirt and the fingers that treaded dangerously close to the helmet.

Mando involuntarily gasped as the pressure on his neck increased. It felt good, and it was distracting him from the burning in his leg. Suddenly, the burning was gone, and Mando's eyes shot open--he wasn't sure when he had closed them. He looked down and the flesh on his thigh where the metal had been was clean and unblemished. 

Mando looked at Meklar in confusion. "How did you do that so fast?"

Meklar smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It wasn't all me.."

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"You did it too."

"That makes no sense dumbass."

Meklar looked at the Mandalorian, as if upset for being called names. "You're sensitive. I touched a pressure point. You liked it, as did your body. It generated 'power'. I channeled it to heal your wound. Simple."

Mando connected the dots in his head. "That makes no sense."

"It really does, you're just to thick headed behind that helmet that you don't understand shit."

Mando gaped at the angel, this was the first time that he heard him curse. He wasn't completely sure if it was possible for an angel to do that, since they were holy and stuff, but apparently not.  

Meklar rolled his beautiful green eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What is even wrong with you?"

"You literally just touched me and claimed that it helped you heal me, what do you not see wrong with that?" 

Meklar's face split into a grin and he shook his head. "You have a spot on your arm I need to fix."

As the angel reached for Mando's arm, the other pulled it away. "Uh-uh. You need to explain to me what just happened." 

"I literally just did you dim loaf of bread."

"Where are you getting these names from?" 

"Where are you getting you stupid questions from?"

"Gah, you're annoying as fuck."

"Well I didn't ask so sit still and give me your fucking arm or I'm touching your neck again."

"No!" Mando shouted, playful but fearing what else his body would respond with if the angel continued. 

Meklar smiled sweetly but sourly, narrowing his eyes as he held the Mandalorian's arm in his hand. The angel's eyes started to glow and the flesh on Mando's arm started to weave itself back together gradually, and if he squinted just enough he could see thin silver white threads of grace pulling him back together. The motion sent a comforting but somehow also unsettling feeling through him, rocking the unease to his core. 

When Meklar had finished healing the battered and bruised Warrior, he looked up and made eye contact with the eyes that hid behind the helmet of the Mandalorian. 

These two men had beautiful eyes. 

The Angel with green, like the fields of Naboo, but still somehow darker, like the lush trees of Kashyyk. They meant new, living, real. 

The Warrior, on the other hand, had dark brown eyes, a shade darker than the Angel's wings, but golden in comparison. They meant steady, foundation, stable. 

You see, these two colors have walked hand in hand throughout all of history. 

From the dawn of creation--that no one is sure of, but that is a story for another time--they have been complimentary, made for one another. 

Created solely for the other and for nothing else. 

Which is why you see now, two beautiful men sat across from one another. 

A war playing before them. 

This war was called love. 

And they had no idea what it had in store for them. 

And as the story teller, it is my responsibility to tell you the rest of the story.

But how does one tell a story that is only happening at the present?

Is it a guessing game of love?

Played with polished pieces of stick and stone? 

Or is it a war of love?

Fought with knives and guns and swords?

That, I will not spoil for you, dear one.

For if I said what you so longed to hear, 

this would no longer be a story.

It would just be. 

If it has taken you too long to notice, these men are undoubtedly and completely in love.

But they do not know how to express it. 

How to tell the other. 

You see, dear one, in the past, each half of the whole had been broken. 

The Angel, well, he trusted someone so close to him with something so important to him.

What he entrusted to the friend was his grace.

But the other broke it apart, bit by bit, and in breaking it, 

broke the Angel.

And as the Angel was thrown from Ralan,

he became a Fallen.

And to be a Fallen means to be broken.

Broken and unlovable.

The Warrior, battered and bruised and beaten, was torn apart from his family at a young age. 

For when he was a mere child, his parents were killed, right above him.

But he was saved.

By rogue Mandalorians, commonly known as the Death Watch.

They had been sent by a mysterious man.

Who had been planning these events since The Beginning.

He was saved. He was broken.

Broken and unlovable.

Now, this may scare you. 

You may want to hide from the truth.

Because it may hurt you.

But if you embrace it, and listen to the threading between the words.

You can finally notice..

everything that was there all along.

Because it takes a Broken Warrior to heal a Fallen Angel.

And a Fallen Angel to save a Broken Warrior.

Now that the formalities are set aside, we are drawn back to the story. 

'Take off my helmet,' the Warrior grunted, propping himself up on one elbow.

'No. I can't,' the Angel responded, worried and confused at the spontaneous outbreak.

'Please. I want to see you.' 

'You can.'

'I want to see you with my eyes.'

'What do you usually see me with, you're nose?'

A long sigh. 'I want to see you without the helmet between me and you.'

'I can't. It's your culture.'

'I need you to. Now. Please.'

'You can't be serious.'

'You told me yesterday that we were soul mates. Were you telling the truth? Or have you been lying the entire time?' the Warrior pleaded with the Angel, needing an answer.

The Angel looked at the Warrior with complete trust. 'I was telling the truth. I have not ever lied to you.'

'Say it.'

'What?'

'That we're soul mates.'

'We're soul mates.'

'Again.'

'We're soul mates.'

'Again.'

'We. Are. Soul Mates.'

'Then take my helmet off, or I'll do it myself.'

'Please don't. I can't hurt you like this.'

'I want you to. Now.'

The Angel shuddered and rubbed his hands together. The Warrior held those shaking hands between his own, which were gloved, but they still held some warmth.

'Please.'

The Angel reached up, and shakily traced the bottom of the helmet with his finger tips. He lifted it off of the man in front of him. He closed his eyes.

The Warrior gazed at the Angel in wonder, but underlying that beautiful feeling, there was fear. Fear that what the Angel saw would not please him, would not satisfy his immortal soul.

But his eyes were closed, squinched at the corners. His hair was curly and tangled, but thick and luscious. His hands were twitching. The Warrior wasn't sure why, but when he saw his own hands shaking as well, he felt even with the other.

'Open your eyes. Please.'

The Angel obeyed, and bright green orbs met deep brown.

'You're beautiful. Perhaps more beautiful than the Angels in Ralan.'

The Warrior smiled a small smile, but it was real. 'Even if I am what you say, I could never live up to you in such a way. You are absolutely stunning.'

The Angel smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. 

The Warrior frowned. 'What's wrong?' As if he had knew this Angel by heart, he could see the sudden change in mood.

'Your creed. Your culture. Everything you believe is gone.'

'Your right here, so I don't think that anything is really gone.'

'Before I Fell, I always hurt those around me, that was my purpose. My reason existence. I hurt you.'

The Warrior was quiet for a moment. Debating in his head of what the Angel meant by that. Thinking of how to say what he wanted to say without hurting Him. Gently, he spoke, 'I don't care what you did before. If you want you can tell me?'

'Not yet.'

'Will you please look at me?' The Angel's eyes were downcast, and almost closed. The Angel was ashamed.

'You are truly magnificent, Angel.'

The Angel shook his head, and tried to stand only to be held back by the Warrior's firm but gentle grip on His wrist.

'I don't want to hurt you. I shouldn't have let you take it off.'

'You wanna know why I really had you take the helmet off?' The Warrior pulled the Angel back down to kneel next to the cot again.

A small sigh escaped the Angel's lips. 'Why?'

'So I could do this.'

The Mandalorian leaned forward and captured the Angel's lips in a kiss. It was slow and sweet, and they didn't pull away until they couldn't breathe anymore. The Angel was confused, frozen, and the Warrior feared that he overstepped. 

As soon as the Warrior pulled back, the Angel chased those lips and stole them back again, pressing up against the Other.

Now, let us give them a moment, turn our heads, inspect the walls.

For they had been waiting for this for far too long.

This was a moment that they deserve to have in solitude.

Because right at this moment, this very second that their lips met,

They proved that even though they were broken.

They were not unlovable.

Soooooo.

Whaddya think?

I really liked writing the last bit of this chapter in the Story Teller's perspective. It's just super cool to be in Their point of view. 

Anyways, I think that I'm going to make a chapter that is just about backstory/terms and names and information on the different realms and history of the Angels/Demons/In Betweens, because I have some good ideas and they are sitting on some looseleaf waiting to be brought to life. 

I'm sorry that this chapter was out late. I meant to get it done last weekend but it ended up being a tad delayed.

Word count: 2952 (lots AND lots of wordos)

Vote, comment, share?

Edits: 1/25/21

Lots of love,

Kermit

Heyo, I have been drafting the next chapter, and although I am aiming towards some more Mando and Meklar time, I am currently focusing on the backstory/creation story that explains Meklar's existence and his "family". It's actually somewhat interesting, and I am trying to pull ideas from everything I see, including the Seven Deadly Sins, which is what my class is talking about in Religion (yeah, I'm Catholic. Somewhat.), but anyways does anyone have some prompts or ideas that just sound super cool and would me to spin off of for part of the backstory/telling?

Love you!