He was too young to have to be driven to this. No, you shook yourself. You couldn't keep letting his appearance fool you; Raivis was well into his adulthood by now. It was just that his looks betrayed him, the fluffy blond hair you'd wanted to touch for so long only serving that cause. His eyes were closed now, those thick brown lashes beating ever so softly against his smooth cheeks. It almost looked like he was sleeping, aside from one thing; the splattering of blood and the gun lying just out of his reach. You swallowed down the bile that was rising in your throat, not wanting to let yourself believe that it was real. But it was, you knew it was. The stench of death was no illusion. And you didn't want to believe it was happening to Raivis.
You'd been by his side for as long as you could remember, watching, whispering in his ears. You knew he'd never be able to see you, but there was a little part of you that couldn't help believe that your voice could somehow reach him; that he'd listen to what you had to say, that he'd be able to hear your wingbeats. It was a foolish wish, you knew that. The others had always warned you not to depend on such illogical fantasies, such pathetic dreams. You were there to watch his life unfold and only to watch. Not to intervene, not to care. It was your job and that was all. No emotion, just duty. End of story.
The thing is, nothing turns out the way it's supposed to. Not with you anyway. You cared for the boy, you'd admit that much. Cared in a way that went beyond professional interests. Sure, your job would go down the drain if he died, but that wasn't what you were concerned about. What you were concerned about was him; the skittish Latvian boy who'd seen way more than anybody should ever have to see. Those memories were never going to leave your mind, even if you lived for the next thousand years. Which, in your case at least, was very unlikely. They don't let angels who interfere with the way things are live.
You knelt down next to him, the longer feathers of your wings immediately becoming splattered with the red liquid that was forming pools around his still breathing body. But you didn't care. You couldn't. Not with the only man you'd ever loved lying close to death with you unable to do anything to help. You ran a hand through his hair, trying to distract yourself from the fact he was dying. Not that it worked very well; your eyes still managed to let loose a tear. And, as soon as one fell, a whole flood followed it.
"Raivis…. Oh god Raivis", you whispered, your gentle tone hiding the fact you were choking on every word, "Why did you have to do it? I told you it was only going to be a few months until we got out of here. Away from him. And then we'd go someplace where he'd never find us."
You pulled away, sobbing harder. You couldn't let this happen, you couldn't. Right then the only person you'd ever cared about, the person whose side you had stayed by for almost his entire life was dying. This wasn't him, it couldn't be. The Raivis you knew wouldn't have done this, no matter how much it had hurt, not matter what he had done to him. Somehow, he'd find something worth hanging onto. He always had. This man lying comatose on the hard wooden floor couldn't be him.
"I'm sorry Raivis. I'm so sorry", your voice muttered into the cold air, trying to hold everything in, "It's my fault; I should have talked louder. I should have been there for you."
There was only one thing left you could possibly do. And if you did, you would die in the process, or at least get as close to dying as angels could. You'd never thought of yourself as being able to die before; it was only humans who were able to think about their own mortality, and they seemed to cope with the idea worse than everyone else. Death had never seemed liked anything that had anything to do with you, which was probably why you did not fear it. At least, until that moment, you did not fear it.
You lifted your hands onto his chest, feeling the fiery pulse that took the place of your heartbeat grow stronger. Angels have no need for heartbeats; no need to circulate blood around their bodies. Instead, it was a little piece of the divine, the very thing that made you what you were. You'd heard stories about what you were trying to do, but you'd never actually known anybody who actually knew of a reported case. It might have just been a legend, a tale told to put hatchlings to sleep. But it was your only hope now. Breathing heavily, you closed your eyes and focused your entire being on your hands. It burned, like you were already being consumed by the fires that you knew were waiting for you. You gritted your teeth, trying to focus away from the pain. You could feel it becoming steady now, your entire power slipping away from you. You were exhausted and your arms faltered beneath you, everything becoming blurred, your wings flapping in a mad panic, leaving you unable to do anything other than lie back and let yourself fall into darkness.