The pair walked in silence along a mostly paved path into the heart of the city and through what looked like the main street market. As they walked, the buildings around them grew sparser and shifted from large apartment-like buildings to more compact, square blocks already cracked by time and threatening to crumble in the tropical winds.

Some of what he assumed were abandoned buildings on the outer edge, just before a sparse treeline, looked like the remnants of an ancient civilization that the city had been built in the center of.

Colton wondered how long the buildings had been abandoned. It looked like it could have been centuries, but he doubted it was much longer than Bation had been on the island, if it was even that long.

The pavement gradually turned into a well-worn dirt path that wound through nearly perfect lines of Hackberry, Magnolia, and several different types of Oak trees. It was almost like roaming through the King grove that Auriel’s grandmother had planted when the family moved to Austen.

The path took a sharp turn toward wooden steps built into a small hill that held more natural chaos than the rest of what he had seen, small plants that could have been native to the island roped around the clean lines of trees as though the native species refused to die away to be replaced by a slice of Texas that couldn’t survive on its own.

Bation stalled in the path at the top of the steps towards a massive, mangled tree that overtook everything else around it. Its roots sprawled out in a large circle covering most of the dirt around it, killing off any chance of anything else growing. The trunk was as thick as a Redwood tree and was split down the middle like it had been struck by lightning, and continued to grow in spite of the damage. Its branches reached out as far as its roots did and reached to the sky with stubbed fingers.

At the base of the tree, a crouched redhead dressed in all black examined its bark with his back to the pair. His head snapped toward them as Bation cleared his throat.

“I believe S5 will be able to help fix your…little problem.” He folded his arms across his chest, his voice dripping with spiced honey he didn’t trust.

“I don’t need help, Bation; I need to be left alone to fix what you started.” Auriel spat as he rose to his feet.

Bation held up his hands with a calm smile, “We come in peace, Auriel, remember? Maybe Chamuel will remind you of the meaning of ‘peace’.” He stood there a moment longer before motioning for Colton to go to Auriel and leaving them alone.

He hesitated, eyeing Auriel’s form as he returned to whatever work had him so rigid. Every movement he made was sharp, every reach to the trunk, every time his finger searched the wood for something Colton couldn’t see, every shake of his head when he didn’t like what he saw. He almost looked like a puppet as he moved.

“E?” His voice was quiet as he used his childhood nickname. He cleared his throat and tried again once Auriel stilled, his head tilted slightly toward Chamuel, “I thought you were supposed to be on patrol.”

Auriel shook his head, dropping his hand, and looked at him, “Clearly something more important came up, Chamuel.” The glare he held mirrored the one Michael usually had.

Chamuel kept his movements slow and his hands visible as he moved closer to him, afraid of what could happen. “What did Bation start?”

“What didn’t he?” His eyes searched for something in Chamuel before he sighed and shook his head, “He’s so fucking stupid, and we have to clean up after him to keep up his perfect image.” He leaned against the tree and ran his fingers through his overgrown curls.

“What’d he do to the tree?” He tried, trying to pull out some answers.

“Right, that. It was fine yesterday, but last night Bation went out here alone, and now it’s dying.” He looked to Colton as he sat on a protruding root, “I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I don’t know how to fix it. But I have to because it’s the only thing keeping this half of the island out of the sea.”

“Sounds like poor design.” Colton chuckled dryly, “How do you know it’s dying?”

“It’s a feeling, kind of like how you are with people, I can feel it slipping away after centuries of keeping this ground stable.” He paused, “It’s a little ironic if I’m being honest. They call it the Tree of Life because no matter what happens, this tree survives. No matter what tries to kill it, it thrives. But it’s dying now that it’s in my care after exactly one time of being left alone with that man.”

“Same thing that happened to us?”

Auriel laughed, “Imagine S6 being a tree.”

“What’s with the numbers?”

“I think Bation just keeps forgetting our names, so he refers to us by our order. S stands for Saint, our rank.”

“He named us.” Chamuel sighed.

“Yes, he did.” Auriel nodded, “He can’t keep his own bullshit straight.”

Colton watched as Auriel resumed looking over the tree, offering what he hoped were helpful suggestions, but the looks that he received told him otherwise.

Nothing looked off to Colton, not that he was an expert on trees; it looked healthier than Auriel did by any means. It stood strong against their combined weight, and its branches swayed in the wind, carrying a hint of the ocean not far from them.

But the concern written on Auriel’s face told a different story. He looked like he was visiting a dying relative for what could be the last time. He looked like he was already mourning it. He looked like he was tortured by the fact that he couldn’t do anything to fix what was wrong.

And there was nothing Colton could do to help.

“Why did he bring me here? I feel useless.” He grumbled to himself, resting his chin in his hands.

“To keep an eye on me, I haven’t exactly been the most obedient lately.” Auriel replied, looking up at the branches, “Even the birds are leaving. This is bad.”

“You’re breaking rules? How?”

“Have you?”

“Not yet.” He admitted.

“It starts with a little heat, just enough to warn you that you’re toeing the line, then it starts to burn more the further you go, and the longer it takes you to do it.” He knelt to examine the roots. “Michael figured out the lines forever ago. But I’m choosing to learn how to deal with the pain.”

“Why would you do that? Can’t she teach you where the lines are?”

“I need to get home. She doesn’t have family left. I do” He looked at Chamuel with desperation so deep it could have burrowed to the earth’s core and had enough to make it a round trip. “I do, right?”

“You’re the only one your family lost.” Chamuel nodded, hoping the confirmation could ease some of the ache in one of them.

Auriel smiled, nodding, “Good.”

He missed his mother’s smile, how it crinkled around her eyes and lit up her entire face. The way she’d nag him about appropriate attire for the galas they attended, and the look she gave him and his father when they pushed her buttons. The way he could go to her with anything that was happening, except for what he was starting to do at night. He didn’t want to think about how she’d react to that. How she encouraged everything he wanted to try out, even if it was just for a little while, before he learned he didn’t like it.

He missed his father’s laugh, the way it barked when it was real, and the shake when he was faking it for someone Mom made him play nice with. The way one look could tell him anything from across the manor in a pinch. The greying hair he’d point out at every chance he got, and when it disappeared. The disappointment he saw when he saw the bruises from a late night on the streets that he tried to cover with the makeup he made Rowan get.

He missed the cranky driver who’d do anything if it meant he’d get a little extra in his paycheck. How Rowan would pick him up and mend his wounds with an extra layer of lecture that he would have gotten from his Dad if he’d known what his son was doing.

He missed Evan. The one he’d never get back. The one who didn’t have to worry about what he was doing, even if he went too far. The one who could laugh while they worked on their bike after hitting his thumb with a hammer that Colton didn’t know how he got, or why he had. He missed the late nights they spent together talking about nothing, or their futures together, their present, and everything. He missed every time that Evan ended up at his house after a long night because he was scared of facing his parents, even when he was angry at Evan for relapsing again. But at least then he knew he was still alive, and Evan.

“What did they mean when they said you sold me out?” he asked quietly, afraid of the answer and unsure of why he asked.

Auriel tensed up, “I swear to god, I didn’t sell you out, Cham-”

“What did Raphael mean when she said you sold me out, Auriel?” He shot his own glare at him, unable to hear the angel’s name for the millionth time. He wasn’t sure how he was going to handle it when the island finally got to meet him, and all he’d ever hear again would be the angel’s name instead of his.

“I swear.” Auriel’s voice cracked. He swallowed hard, searching for words he never wanted to say for a long time under Chamuel’s careful gaze, “I was just homesick, I just wanted to go back. I asked if I could visit if I weren’t seen, so I could see my family and see you, even if it was from a distance.”

“You were the reason he went back to Austen.” Chamuel kept his voice level, trying to hide the anger. “You were the reason more people got hurt.”

“I didn’t think he wanted you.”

“What did you think?”

“That he was considering letting me go for a day after years of service to the bastard.”

“You know he wants seven.”

“I didn’t think I made you sound that good, I swear!”

“Did you think?”

He turned back to the root, like it held the right answer far away from him.

“You endangered so many people because you couldn’t wait? You let him kidnap me because you were homesick? You scared the shit out of our city twice for this man, and you thought he’d consider letting you go?”

“He’s really good at hiding it.” Auriel mumbled, “He’s really good at the Catholic shtick, at making you feel like you actually matter to him. It’s hard to remember he’s evil when he’s right there, sweet-talking you into giving him whatever caught his attention that time.”

“And now I’m here, watching you poke at a root like it’s your job, while in a shit load of pain by the way, because he’s a ‘sweet-talker’. Is that how your old dealer got you hooked?”

“That’s not fair, Colton.” Auriel shot up to his feet, “I was desperate.”

“Good to know, just stay out of Austen this time.” Chamuel stood shaking his head with a deep breath, “I’m glad you aren’t completely dead.”

He turned, leaving by the same dirt path that he had come in on. Hoping that whatever plan Michael had, somehow connected with whatever Auriel was actually doing.

He prayed that the tree wasn’t actually dying; he’d hate it if more lives were impacted because of him.