I dreamt I was thirteen years old again. I stood across from Leviathan, just as we had in my other dreams. This time he stood opposite me, his face upturned to the sky. Just as with before, his hands were palm up, open and waiting. I knew what he was expecting—the sword, the very one that I held in my own hands. I wanted to speak to him, to tell him not to worry that I would not hurt him—I loved him. A world in which he did not exist was not a world in which I could bare living. And yet, my mouth seemed stitched shut.

As we stood facing one another, the world around us seemed to fade and spin. In an instant, we were in my house. I knew we were standing in the dining room of my family's Manchester home, but the furniture was missing. The room was empty, the paintings and tapestries that use to decorate the high walls where missing, in their place thick black stains.

Scorch marks.

The air surrounding us sparkled as the sun broke in through the gaping holes in the roofing, breaking through layers of dust, grime, and cinders. It was as if this new revelation brought on yet another wave of sense. Harsh memories, abrasive and aching.

The nauseating stench of smoke, the feel of flames as they licked against my skin—not painful, but ever-present—overwhelmed me. I remembered the way my hands had slipped against damp, sweat covered skin. The way my nightgown at caught and burnt, blackening the soft white fabric like a marshmallow over the hearth on Christmas Eve.

There is no smell quite like that of burning flesh—especially that of your own. To know, full well, that I should be in agony but have no way to access that pain, the memory was enough to steal my breath.

Suddenly, as things happen in dreams, I was there again and I was feeling those emotions. I was once again mentally telling myself that I was fine—one foot in front of the other, Merritt. Get out of the house and then you can cry. One more step. One more step. Please God, one more step.

But I was not there again and I was not thirteen.

Leviathan stood looking at me, his sober gaze tracking the tears as they fell from my eyes. It was as if he was saying it—One more step, Merritt, one foot after the other. But he was not coaxing me from the flames, instead, we stood together in them, separated by time and space and the weight of this sword in my hands.

Gabriel shook me awake, his strong fingers digging into the flesh of my arms, the pressure of it grounding me. I was here, in a church, with Gabe—not in my burning house. I looked down at my hands, half expecting to find the sword still cradled there, but this was reality and it still lay in my bag at the foot of the cot. I had to squint to see it in the dark, but I knew it was there.

"You were screaming in your sleep." Gabriel's voice was next to my ear; my face was pressed to his chest, listening to the thump thump thump of his fake human heart. It was racing, just like my real one. "I thought..." He trailed off for a second before he tried again, "I thought maybe Lucifer had gotten in after all."

I sat up, embarrassed with myself. "It was just a nightmare. I'm perfectly alright." My hair clung to my face and neck with sweat, I ran my hands through it, pushing it back, and blushed at the way they trembled.

Gabe pulled me back into his arms, he was shaking too. "What was it about?"

"I don't want to discuss it."

"Leviathan?"

I closed my eyes tight. "Among other things, yes."

"What other things?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

I felt his grip on my tighten and I thought he might insist, but he only nodded and said, "As you wish."

We sat in the dark for a very long time; the only sound our breathing and the steadying echo of his heartbeat against my ear. Just when I was about to be lulled to sleep Gabriel spoke, "Cassiel, I have not been good to you."

I lifted my head to look at him, entirely confused. "What?"

He let go of me, putting distance between us as he said, "I let my anger over what Leviathan did color how I perceived your actions. I resented you because you were able to continue to love him, even after he hurt you. That was wrong of me."

"You have been nothing but kind to me."

"No." He swallowed and looked away. "I allowed you to be put in situations with Lucifer that could have gotten you killed. I hesitated even when Adonai had already given me permission to let you remember who you were. I could have cost you your life and all because of my own bitter attitude."

"Gabriel, I love you. You're like a brother to me."

"You are always so good."

"No, I'm not," I admitted. "I am a liar. I tell myself that I can do it, I can hurt Leviatian, when I know that I'd rather do anything else, I'd rather die, than use that sword on him. In fact, sometimes I think that it was a blessing that Michael kept me from getting into the throne room the day Leviathan was cast out. Surely I would have followed him, I would damn myself for him. And yet, everything is different now. I don't know how to love him like this, as this human girl. It is different, knowing the ways that Cassiel loved Leviathan. I'm Merritt now, although you all still call me by my angelic name, it is not a name that sits well in the shoulders of this body. This girl, Merritt, had dreams of other things, a life that had human things in it, like marriage and children. But now...now with remembering who I am—"

"You can still have those things."

"Not if I kill Leviathan, and certainly not with him." I inhaled a shaky breath. I hadn't spoken any of that allowed, never even bothered to journal it before. It felt heavy, weighty and uncomfortable, to be saying it to Gabriel now. "I no longer know my own heart."

"There might be others after him. It is my hope that you'll live a long, full life after this, Merritt."

"Only a mortal lifetime?" I glanced sidelong at him, wait no for his answer.

The corners of his mouth twitched. "An angel has never been made human before, I suppose we do not know what your soul, or this body, is capable of. Mortal lifetime, at the very least."

I smiled at that,  but my heart still felt too heavy. "I do not know why I love Leviathan." I whispered, "I can't remember the moments that led my heart to his, those are secrets that I suppose Cassiel has. Ones that Merritt doesn't remember. And yet, I still love him. I can see it, in the way he looks at me. I know he loves me. Sometimes, I'll just get this feeling, like I'm about to remember something, or perhaps like I already have remembered it, and forgotten it—in those instances, I feel what I used to know for certain. In that second, I know that I'd do anything for him. And yet he is a stranger to me, to this body. To Merritt."

He scoffed, but his eyes were gentle. "You act like your love for Leviathan is a bad thing."

"I would betray Adonai for a demon. What is worse, Adonai knows this." I swallowed, "I am a betrayer, just like Leviathan. I am no better than anyone else."

"He was once a friend of mine, a best friend perhaps."

"Would you truly have me kill him, even if you thought he might be saved?"

Gabriel took a moment to answer but when he did, I knew he was speaking the only truth he knew. "I believe you should have faith in this. If you think Leviathan is deserving of a second chance, then give it to him. Have faith that your prayers will be answered and that what is best for you, what is best of Leviathan, will come to pass."

"Is this a divine message?"

He chuckled. "No, just my gut feeling. I'm afraid the messenger, in this case, is Michael. You shall have to wait for him to know for sure."

"What if he does not come in time? It's been days—"

"The faith of a mustard seed moves mountains, does it not?"

I pursed my lips. "I suppose we shall find out."