Returning the Favour

Another boring day. The redhead had gone to work again (did humans actually need to work all day, five days a week? Something was seriously wrong if that was the case) and Lazarus had already exhausted his usual forms of entertainment. Which mainly involved rearranging the things in Flora's room and playing pranks on the neighbours.

Marissa wasn't even here! Not that he missed her or anything; a few hours without having to listen to the screeching voice of that feathery bluebottle sounded great. She wasn't here to lecture him for playing pranks, or threaten to kill him, or distract him with how pretty her face--

Woah, woah, stop right there, Lazarus. That's a bad train of thought.

'Damn, I need something fun to do,' he told himself.

Maybe he could go to Flora's workplace and make her afternoon hell. Then again, Marissa would probably cut his wings off in his sleep if he tried. Besides, the redhead actually enjoyed her current job for reasons Lazarus sure as hell didn't understand. After all these years, he felt a bit... disquieted by the idea of ruining it for her.

'I'm going soft, aren't I?' he sighed, as though he hadn't already known it for a while.

He sat on the arm of the couch and brooded for a few more minutes before his ears caught a quiet sound emanating from near the front door – one that sounded suspiciously like sobbing.

Rather alarmed, he shot up into the air and darted out of the room to get a look. He wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him.

Marissa was kneeling on the carpet, her wings curled up tight and her golden hair askew, trembling with the effort of just barely suppressing her cries, and all of that paled in comparison to the smears of blood Lazarus could see on her dress. His next move was purely instinctual and he would be reeling over it for many months to come, but he didn't even think about it now.

'Um, Marissa? You OK there?' With a small thud, he let himself drop to the floor in front of the stricken angel.

She looked up at him and her blue eyes were absolutely massive and there were silent tears coursing down her cheeks and--

'L-L-Laza-rus,' she stuttered. 'I-I d-didn't...' She wrapped her arms around herself and let a noisy sob escape.

Now Lazarus was seriously alarmed. 'What's the matter with you? Fly into a gorse bush? Got grabbed by the neighbour's cat?' The words were supposed to be mocking, but he could hear the concern in them.

'I-I ran i-into a-a-a... a devil,' Marissa finally managed to say.

That struck him cold because firstly, what the hell were his own people doing wandering around on Earth, and secondly, how had Marissa ended up in a fight with them?

'What did you do?' he spluttered.

'I-I was so scared they'd come here to hurt Flora. So I tried to make them go away!'

Ah. That explained it.

'Did you know they were looking for Flora or did you just throw yourself at them like a banshee? Never mind, I don't wanna know.' His eyes strayed to the blood – on her hair, on her chest, on her wing. Then he noticed that she was holding her right arm tightly. 'What's wrong with you?'

'I th-think...' She paused to wipe her nose on a frilly sleeve, sniffling loudly. 'My wrist is broken.'

'I thought you had healing powers or something.'

'I c-can't use them properly when I'm... upset.'

'So go burn a scented candle and think happy thoughts!'

'Can I have a hug?'

Lazarus went rigid. 'Now hold on a minute!' he said threateningly. 'We both know you don't like me, and you've never been very nice to me. So why should I do that, huh?'

She gazed up at him with those big sad eyes and he couldn't really stop himself from drowning in them.

'I-I'll be n-nicer to you,' she said.

'Big fat lie, fairy lady!'

'Please?!' Her face started to crumple and dammit, he didn't want to look at her anymore.

Against his better judgement, Lazarus stepped forwards and gingerly wrapped his arms around her, pressing her wings against her back. They were so soft and light; he'd never really touched them before now. She was still trembling, but it was gradually subsiding. She put her face in his shoulder and Lazarus tried not to let the funny feelings overwhelm him.

He didn't know how long he stood there and held her; time was moving in strange ways. Suddenly, a booming report rang out and both of them jumped apart with hearts hammering wildly. It took Lazarus a moment to realise that the noise was just Flora knocking on the front door. She normally left her keys indoors and asked Marissa to let her in when she got home. 'Marissa? Are you there?'

The angel hurriedly wiped away the remnants of her tears and put a smile on her face. It was a little watery, and Lazarus was pretty certain that Flora would guess something bad had happened the minute she walked through the door, but he didn't plan on being around to see it. Knowing his luck, Marissa would probably tell her that Lazarus was responsible. 'Yes, sweetheart! Just give me a second!'

'Hurry up and heal yourself!' he growled before opening his wings and flitting away.

Marissa, as he later discovered, actually told the truth. It wasn't until he encountered Flora early the following morning that he found out. The redhead gave him an odd look before muttering 'thanks for helping her', and that was all anyone ever said about it.