The Plot Bunny (11 page)

For a few seconds, Luc didn't say anything. He then reached for Simon's hand and squeezed it. "I hate this," he whispered. "We never used to be awkward together."

Simon let out a little laugh. "I guess talking about feelings does that to a person."

That actually drew a small smile out of Luc. "True. I'm very bad at that. Dury always says…" His smile faded and his grip on Simon's hand tightened. "I think I love him too. As for what he is, he's just… Dury."

Simon didn't understand, but Luc proceeded to clarify, "He came to me claiming to be my plot bunny, of all things. I didn't believe him at first, but stuff happened, unexplainable stuff. And now… now I don't know what to think anymore."

"Do you think he lied to you?"

"He's obviously been keeping things from me," Luc said darkly. "I know next to nothing about him. And yet…"

"Maybe we should be talking to him too," Simon suggested.

Luc nodded. "That sounds good." He hailed the waiter to bring them the check. As they retrieved their wallets to pay, a small boy approached the table.

"Excuse me, sir," the boy told Simon, "this is for you."

Simon gave the boy a confused look. He saw the child was offering him a sealed envelope. Luc eyed him curiously and Simon shrugged. "Who is it from?"

The child pointed across the street and both Luc and Simon looked in that direction. They saw Dury standing there, smiling, dressed in his little combat boots and ruffled skirt. Dury waved at them and blew them a kiss. Then a car passed, blocking Dury from sight. When Simon could see through the traffic again, Dury was gone. He turned toward the boy, only to realize the child had run away.

"The letter," Luc said hastily. "Read the letter."

With trembling hands, Simon gently opened the envelope.

Dear Simon and Luc,

If you're reading this, it means that my time with you has ended. I am happy to see that you've settled your differences. I'm sure that now, when you have each other back, you'll have no trouble with each of your gifts.

It's true that I've kept things from you, but it was for the best. I genuinely care for both of you, but I do not belong here. Please remember me fondly, because that is how I will remember you.

I don't know if we'll ever see each other again. I wish you many happy years together. Above all else, remember that you love each other and don't let anything or anyone stand in the way of that love.

With deep affection,

Dury

"He's gone," Simon said, feeling numb. "He left."

Luc shook his head furiously. "No. He can't have gone far. We can still reach him."

"You know as well as I do it's not so easy," Simon replied. He could see it now, so clearly. Dury wasn't of this world.

"We need help."

"Help?" Luc repeated. "Who would believe us? Who would even care?"

The words of Father Michael echoed in Simon's mind. "Come on. I have an idea."

Luc left a hundred dollar bill on the table and they rushed out. Since Luc didn't much like to drive and Simon's car was in service, they were forced to hail a cab. With luck, they found one with a fair amount of ease and hastily got in. Simon gave the driver the address to the church and the man started the car. As they went down the streets, Simon scanned the sidewalks for any sign of Dury. Predictably, they didn't find him.

Simon was beginning to question his own sanity. Was he really going to some random church, hoping a random priest would help him find his gay lover? That sounded unreasonable even to Simon himself. He half-wanted to tell the driver to stop the car, but something inside him kept him from doing so.

When they at last got to the church, Simon and Luc rushed out of the cab. The driver yelled after them, and only then did Simon remember he hadn't paid. Cursing, he took out his wallet and tossed a couple of bills at the disgruntled man.

The cab drove off, and Simon turned toward Luc. To his surprise, he found the other man staring at the church with a thoughtful look on his face. "This is where I met Dury," Luc said.

That could be coincidence
, Simon thought,
but it might mean something else as well.
Without knowing why, Simon ran through the courtyard and into the beautiful building, Luc hot on his heels
.
As soon as they entered the church
,
though, both of them froze in their tracks. Father Michael stood in front of the altar, and kneeling at his feet was Dury.

"What the hell?"

Father Michael looked up at them and arched a brow. "Don't curse, Lucas. You're in the House of the Lord."

Simon nearly fainted when he realized the priest's eyes were shining with a bright light. "Who are you?" he asked. "What do you want with Dury?"

Father Michael smiled gently and, in that moment, Dury got up and turned toward them. Tears streamed down his cheeks, shining like crystals in the light that stemmed from his eyes. "He's my father."

Simon just stared, not understanding. Luc broke out of his shock faster and said, "Look, Dury, whatever the problem is, we can work something out. You don't have to go."

"I'm afraid that's not true, Lucas," Father Michael said. "Duriel's time on Earth is over. He must return to our home."

"Duriel?" Simon asked.

"That's me," Dury answered, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry for lying. Please, be happy."

Simon couldn't accept that. He couldn't accept such an unfair goodbye. "No," he shouted. "We can't be happy, not without you."

He started running toward the altar, seeing the heartbreak in Dury's eyes, feeling it in his own soul. He heard Luc running behind him, pleading for Dury to stay. But then Father Michael shook his head. All of a sudden, Simon couldn't move a muscle. He tried to open his mouth and protest, but not even his vocal chords obeyed.

"I'm sorry," Dury said again.

Under Simon's stupefied gaze, Dury's body started to shine, hotter and brighter than anything Simon had ever seen. It almost seemed like a small sun had invaded the church, engulfing every inch of Dury, shining from inside out. Wings burst out from Dury's back, and then, Dury's skin started to dematerialize, his body vanishing in the otherworldly light. With a brief flash, the young man faded altogether, and Simon felt a press of phantom lips against his own before the church went silent and dark.

Part Three:

The Angel

Chapter Eight

As his spirit left the mortal plane of existence, Dury knew he'd be in trouble. He'd been tasked with bringing Simon and Luc together once more, and in a way, he'd succeeded. Unfortunately, he'd made the two humans love him in the process, and had fallen for them as well.

What a disaster. If Dury had known things would turn out this way, he'd have stuck to being a Death Angel. But he hated being the harbinger of such sorrow. He knew the souls he'd taken were never unhappy, but the humans left behind didn't. Even if he acknowledged it as a normal part of mortal life, it still hurt.

Dury had been chosen for the task of Death Angel specifically because of his kindness and empathy. Some angels were warriors, dedicated to enforcing the rule of the Lord. As powerful as they were, they could not soothe a passing soul, not like Dury could. So Dury had agreed to it, and as much as it hurt him, he'd been proud to do this.

Then, his father had decided to give him a different task. He'd shown Simon Roth and Lucas Black to Dury, explaining that the two were soul mates and they needed to be taught how to see it. Dury had not understood why he'd been chosen for this mission. There were other, more experienced angels who dealt with matters of the heart. But Dury always obeyed his father. After all, above all else, the Archangel Michael was also his superior.

Only now, he'd fucked up royally. He didn't know if he'd ever be allowed to see Simon and Luc again. He'd torn apart two lives with his presence. By the time he'd realized it, it was too late. Now, Dury could only hope his father would be able to make the two humans forget they'd ever met him.

As his soul reached the heavens, Dury flew through the ethereal clouds, heading toward his home. There were a couple of angels who gave him curious looks, but they didn't stop him. His father's home loomed ahead, the little white turrets both familiar and frightening. He didn't want to go in there. He ached to go back, to return to Luc and Simon, to be with them like his humans so obviously wanted. His world no longer seemed like heaven, simply because the two men weren't here.

"What are you doing, Duriel?" a familiar voice asked from behind him, startling him.

Dury turned to see his mother gently land on the wispy path. She was beautiful, but fierce, and she often appeared to warriors in battle, encouraging them, giving them the strength to fight in the direst of circumstances. Dury had inherited her green eyes and blond hair, but little else. "Greetings, Mother."

"Welcome home," Jezebel said with a beaming smile. "How did your mission go?"

As a rule, angels didn't lie. They were often forced to when dealing with humans, but in interactions with other angels, it was impossible to hide the truth. Yet another thing Dury hated now. How could he explain his feelings for two humans, and two males at that?

"It didn't go well," he replied.

The thought of lying reminded Dury of his time with Luc and everything he'd said and done to make the other man believe in him. How could Luc love him? Dury had gone so far in his deception, even taking on the role of a so-called "plot-bunny". He comforted himself with the thought that in a way, he had been one. He'd kick-started the writer's talent, after all. But could that justify everything he'd done? Dury didn't know.

Dury tried to push the thoughts aside, knowing his mother could read him like an open book. Predictably, Jezebel's smile faded. "Come inside," she offered. "You need to get some rest. You're not used to being away from home."

Dury nodded miserably. She was right. Death Angels didn't spend that much time on the mortal plane. Their tasks were pretty much straightforward and easy to complete: collect the souls of the dying. The only missions that lasted longer were during wars, when they were often forced to collect more than one soul at the same time. A grueling, awful charge, Dury remembered, but one he'd accepted and been successful in.

What would his father tell him? How would his mother react? Worse yet, what fate would He decide for Dury? The Almighty had trusted Dury with an important task. The realization of the disappointment he'd caused made Dury feel even worse. Then again, why had he been chosen in the first place? God could see into the souls of everyone, including His angels. Had He known about Dury's future? If so, what did that mean?

He followed after Jezebel, lost in his glum musings. As they entered their home, Dury realized in awe that his father stood in the middle of the foyer, waiting for them.

"What? How? When did you get here?" he blurted out without thinking.

"Just a few minutes ago," his father replied, sighing. "Did you tell your mother what happened?"

Dury shook his head, frozen. He'd been hoping to delay things as much as possible, but obviously, he wouldn't be given that opportunity. "Go on," his father said softly. "Tell us."

"I… I fell in love with the humans." His mother's eyes widened and she gasped. Dury looked down, knowing how much he'd disappointed her. "I had carnal urges and lost myself to them."

He swallowed around the sudden knot in his throat, remembering Luc's kisses, Simon's taste in his mouth. He regretted it, oh how he regretted it, but not because of what would happen to him. He was afraid that in giving his humans a touch of his affection, he'd rendered them unable to find happiness on the mortal plane. Sometimes, it happened. Humans were literally touched by angels and could no longer live their normal lives to the fullest. Some lost their minds altogether. Dury shuddered at the thought of something like that happening to Luc and Simon.

Taking a deep breath, he looked back at his father, "Please. Isn't there anything you can do?"

His father knew what he meant, of course. Dury would never beg for himself. Such a thing was unheard of among angels. They accepted all punishments and decrees with stoicism, even if it took a lot out of them to do so. In the end, though, it always worked out. God protected them. Dury clung to that faith, hoping the Almighty would be able to solve this unsolvable situation.

To Dury's surprise, Michael wrapped him in a strong hug. "It's all right, Duriel. Everything is going to be all right."

Dury allowed himself to lean against his father, finding refuge in Michael's kind strength. In moments like these, he realized he was still such a child, so unprepared to deal with what went on in the real world, with the responsibilities his position required. And now, Dury yet again failed in being an angel, by caring about his humans, the humans he loved.

"Go on," Michael whispered. "Go to your room and rest."

As his father broke the embrace, Dury nodded wordlessly. He obeyed and flew through the house up to his bedroom. Their homes weren't built out of solid material. Here, everything was ethereal, including the walls, the gates, the people themselves. But the power of the heavens held it all together, creating a magical place, a refuge where only angels could live.

How could he have been so stupid? He knew angels could not stay long among mortals. Their bodies on their world were mere manifestations of their spirit, a shell they used, but that could not withstand the pressure of real life for too long. Archangels like his father were used to it, but not so with Dury. His power had itched to get away, to be unleashed from its prison of flesh. Perhaps that was why he'd rushed through the whole thing like that.

Dury sighed as he entered his room. He collapsed on the wisp of cloud that served as his bed. What did Simon and Luc think of him now?

* * * *

Dury soon found he could not forget his time with Simon and Luc. If anything, the memories seemed to grow stronger with his every breath. He tried to rest like his father advised, but sleep simply didn't come.