Lourdes, France" "Temp"te! Temp"te!" The man behind the ticket counter shouted, frantically waving a hand at the windows, where it was quickly growing unnaturally dark outside. "I'm sorry," Rhys said, glancing toward the windows. "I don't understand," he paused a moment to search his brain for a translation. "Je ne?" He trailed off, his sparse knowledge of French, most of which consisted of words and phrases he'd picked up in restaurants or on television, failing him. "I'm trying to get to Gavarnie," he explained in exasperation for what had to be the third time. "Gav-ar-nie," he enunciated slowly. The man behind the counter gesticulated with his hands and replied back in a fast flurry of French that Rhys didn't understand. What he did understand was that the man was becoming as exasperated with him as he was with the man. Rhys blew out a slow sigh, summoning the very last of his patience. "I need to get to Gavarnie," he repeated. "It's important. Do you understand important?" "Storm....No buses today," the man finally stammered in broken English. "What do you mean no buses"!" Rhys exclaimed, as a clap of thunder broke overhead, loud enough to shake the entire building. "I have to get to Gavarnie! It's a matter of life and death!" "Arguing with him isn't going to help," a voice interrupted, speaking perfect English, albeit with what sounded like an English accent. Rhys turned to find a familiar face smiling back at him, one he hadn't seen in some time. There was no mistaking that face, the most remarkable feature of which was the soft, brown eyes that almost seemed to see into the very depths of Rhys' soul - a face almost too beautiful to be human, the face of Gabriel, or to be more specific, the Archangel Gabriel.

"What are you doing here?" Rhys asked, feeling an odd mix of relief and annoyance. "Back to give me more cryptic advice?" he continued, sounding more sarcastic than he had intended. The angel only smiled, glancing to the man behind the counter who was still going on in French. "C"est tout droit," he told the man, reaching out to touch his hand. "Tout sera bien." He slipped an arm around Rhys" shoulders to lead him away from the ticket counter.

Rhys glanced back and found the man had quieted, a peaceful, content countenance on his face. "What did you tell him' What the hell did you just do?" he asked, in awed confusion.

"That's one hell of a storm, don't you think?" the angel asked, ignoring Rhys' question and glancing toward the windows. Outside the bus station, the sky was growing dark, black, menacing clouds rolling in, thunder booming as lightning crackled overhead. It felt like the end of the world. Rhys had only seen a storm of its like once before and knew without a doubt it was not of this Earth. "Demons," he muttered, more to himself than to the angel beside him. He wasn't sure how they'd found him, but they had. Cold fear wrapped an icy hand around his heart. He wasn't ready for a fight, not here, not now. Lailah had told him to go to Gavarnie - for whatever reason, he didn't know, but she had never failed him in her guidance before. "Things are about to get interesting, my friend," the angel declared, sounding almost cheerful about this latest development. Rhys swung a glare at the angel, wondering how he could remain in such good spirits when they were about to be attacked by a hoard of demons. "Interesting is a strange way of putting it," he told the angel, glancing at the windows and the ominously-dark cloud that was heading their way. "They're coming," he declared darkly, reaching for the sword he had strapped to his hip " Joyeuse, the sword of Charlemagne. The angel turned, reaching to stay Rhys" hand from pulling the sword. "Not here, not now. This is not the place." "But..." Rhys stammered, looking confused. "They're not here for you," said the angel, stretching a hand out to tap two fingers against Rhys? forehead, and in the blink of an eye, they were both gone.

Rhys awoke to the smell of food, his stomach growling sharply, as if to remind him he was still alive, still human, and still requiring to be fed now and then. He stifled a groan as he rolled off the stone slab he'd fallen asleep on, if one could call it sleep. He likened it more to an angel-induced coma, but he had to admit he felt more rested than he had in a very long time. No dreams, no nightmares to disturb his sleep, just blissful, peaceful darkness. He wondered if death was like that and had to stifle a shudder. Angel or not, he knew this mortal body wouldn't last forever.

There had been a time when Rhys had almost welcomed death, when there had been little hope, little to live for, but that time had passed. Natalya had changed all that, and the dream Abaddon had given him to try and persuade him to surrender had backfired, instead giving Rhys the will to go on.

"Feeling better?"

Rhys heard a familiar voice and turned to find the archangel Gabriel standing behind him, clutching a bag with the familiar golden arches stamped on the side.

The angel smiled and held the bag up triumphantly, as if it was bait or reward. "Special delivery, straight from Brooklyn. The one on Coney Island Avenue you seem to like so much. I would have gotten you something from that diner you used to work at, but it hasn't been the same since they lost their prize cook."

Rhys arched a brow, wondering what the angel was up to. He hadn't worked at the diner in over a year and was pretty sure they'd had no trouble finding a replacement. "Are you trying to be funny?" he asked. "I wasn't aware angels had a sense of humor."

"Oh, we've got a great sense of humor," Gabriel replied, as he extended an arm to hand Rhys his dinner. Or lunch. Rhys had lost all track of time and wasn't quite sure which it was time for, but food was food, and he felt like he hadn't eaten in ages.

"You remember the story about the Burning Bush?" Gabriel continued. "That was my idea. You should have seen the look on Moses" face. Priceless. Jonah and the whale" Now, that I can't take the credit for. That was Uriel."

"You're joking," Rhys said, as he leaned against the stone slab and pulled a few french fries from the bag. "So, what are you saying" Humanity is nothing more than a source of entertainment' We're just here to break up eons of heavenly boredom?"

The angel snorted derisively. "No, of course not. But humans are like children who need to be taught lessons, and what harm is there in having a little fun now and then" We get the job done, and that's all God really cares about."

"God," Rhys scoffed. "I don't believe in God." He shoved the fries in his mouth, finding himself hungrier than he'd thought, whether he really was an angel in a human body or not.

The angel turned serious, brows knitting into a frown. "That's too bad because He believes in you. That's why you're here. The reason you were chosen. But no matter. You'll understand all that before long."

Rhys mirrored the angel's frown, unable to shake the doubt from his mind and his heart, no matter what he'd been told, no matter what he'd seen or heard, just like any other human before him who'd had to face supernatural matters that defied explanation. "If He cares about me so much' If He cares about any of us, why does He allow suffering" Why did He let any of this happen in the first place?"

"Ah, the age old question. The one humans have been asking from the moment of creation. Adam asked, you know." Gabriel raised his hands, curling his fingers to create air quotes, ?"If God didn't want us to eat the apple from the Tree of Life, why did He put it there?""

"Good question," Rhys agreed, shoving a few more fries into his mouth and unwrapping his burger. Though it wasn't a gourmet meal, his stomach was thanking him.

The angel shrugged, as if the question at hand wasn't all that interesting or important. "You already know the answer. Free will."

"Yeah, but you don't dangle a piece of candy in front of a child, if you don't want him to eat it," Rhys pointed out, taking the debate one step further. "Unless you are testing his obedience, but even then, all you're doing is creating temptation. Is that what God wants" To tempt us and then snatch the candy away when we don't do as He asks?"

"What do you think God wants?" Gabriel asked, crossing his arms against his chest, as he watched Rhys scarf down his Big Mac.

Rhys took another bite of his burger and shrugged. "Hell if I know."

"Hell has nothing to do with it," Gabriel told him. "Hell wasn't created to be a place of punishment. It was more of a holding area. A time out, if you will. A place to reflect on one's mistakes, until one was ready to try again. It was never meant to be a place for souls to perish in eternal fire and damnation. Lucifer did that."

"I thought that was what Purgatory is for," said Rhys, finishing off the burger and licking the special sauce from his fingers.

"Purgatory was created later, after Lucifer and his followers were cast into Hell."

"You still haven't answered my question," Rhys reminded him.

"You already know the answer," the angel countered, snapping his fingers, a chocolate milkshake appearing in his hand, as if out of nowhere.

"Is this my last meal or something?" Rhys asked, eying the shake. "Time to fatten up the sacrificial lamb?" He frowned as the accusation tumbled out of his mouth, a little more sarcastically and bitterly than he'd meant it to sound, recalling the dream he'd had all those years ago where he'd been Isaac to Dylan's Abraham. He stifled a shudder at the memory of it. Here they were in Abraham's tomb, and he was about to do battle with the biggest bad-a$$ demon who'd ever lived. If that wasn't enough to give someone pause, he wasn't sure what was.

"Is that what you think?" Gabriel asked, his expression impassive, emotionless, neither confirming or denying Rhys" statement.

Rhys blinked out of his thoughts to answer the angel. "I'm not sure what to think. I'm told I'm chosen or I chose this?"

"Both actually. Someone was needed, and you volunteered," the angel interjected.

"Okay, I volunteered, but why' So I could be human' What's the point of being human if all you do is watch those around you suffer and die?"

"Life isn't about dying, Rhys," the angel addressed him by his human name, as if to appeal to that side of his nature. "It's about living."

Rhys suddenly found the chocolate shake in his hand, and he wondered just how much the angel was capable of, and more importantly, if everything he'd been told thus far was true, how much was he himself capable of?

"This is it, isn't it?" he asked, frowning, a feeling of dread coming over him, setting the shake aside on the stone slab, losing his appetite for it. "The moment of truth. Do or die."

"Do or do not. There is no try," the angel quipped, smiling warmly. "Yoda was divinely inspired, you know. Every hero through the ages has had their moment of doubt, their Garden of Gethsemane. Why should you be any different?"

Rhys" expression darkened at the comparison, not feeling himself worthy. "Don't compare me to Christ. I haven't performed any miracles. I haven't walked on water, and I sure as hell hope I'm not going to be crucified."

"No, but you have your own destiny to fulfill, just as others have fulfilled theirs before you. It's all part of God's plan."

"What, may I ask, is God's plan, pray tell?" Rhys asked, expecting another cryptic reply, another question in answer to a question.

"You already know the answer to that, just as you know the answers to all the others. You've just forgotten."

"Well, maybe you should help me remember then," countered Rhys, sarcastically, not really expecting the angel to take him literally, not really expecting anything but more rhetoric. He certainly couldn't have expected what happened next.

Gabriel smiled, as if Rhys" answer pleased him. "If that is what you wish," said the angel, stepping forward to press two fingers against Rhys? forehead before he could protest.

A brilliant, white light suddenly emanated from the angel, bright as sunlight, but without the glare, warm and inviting, wrapping them both in its soothing embrace. Like angel's wings, Rhys thought to himself. And then, suddenly there was a sharp pain deep inside, like someone was tearing at his soul. His life flashed before his eyes, every memory, every event, every word ever said, every face he'd ever met - everything he'd ever done, everyone he'd ever loved. It was like watching it all on a movie screen inside his head, going backwards from the present to the moment of his birth - all the tragedy and the triumph, the joy and the sorrow, the pleasure and the pain.

There was another flash of bright light, pain exploding in his brain, a cacophony of voices he knew and yet, didn't know, and he felt two distinctly separate pieces of himself come together and merge, like atoms colliding, exploding, but then settling, melting together to form one being, one mind, one heart, one soul. Duality made into singularity.

He heard himself groan as he fell to his knees, pain and confusion slowly ebbing away, and then, he finally understood. There were no more questions, no more doubts. He was mortal and immortal, human and angel, a divine being residing in an earthly vessel. He was the man and the angel, consciously together in one form, and he finally understood his purpose and knew what he had to do.

He was the angel Rathanael, Thwarter of Demons, and the time was finally at hand to finish his quest and fulfill his destiny.