In the End by Alexandra Rowland

as he caught up to his companion.
    “ They left me!” The angel shoved Lucien's hand off his shoulder, turned, and spat at him. “So should you!”
    “ Look, two heads are better than one,” Lucien said, finally becoming impatient. “We might be able to find a way to get you back home, even with that gimpy wing that you've got now.”
    “ Oh God!” The angel cried out, stopping short. “My wing! What if it's damaged permanently? What if I can't fly –”
    “ Will you please shut up? I can fix your wing.”
    “ You're not going to touch my wings! Demon!” he snarled.
    Lucien sighed to himself, rolling his eyes and following the angel as he scrambled over a fallen tree. “Look, I'm not exactly bouncing up and down for joy that I have to cooperate with some prejudiced twit to get what I want.”
    “ Which is what, exactly? Going back to the Forsaken Lands, like I want back to Ríel? Typical.”
    “ I'm glad to be out of that place!” Lucien retorted. “I didn't want to go back anyway; and now, I'm going to stay here for eternity, and as nice as that sounds, who knows what I'll do now – I'll probably have to get a job so I can eat, because magical money won't just appear out of nowhere anymore, or it won't until I figure out how it's done, and that part is going to be boring. For eternity . What if I have to work in fast food, did you ever think of that? I will die.”
    “ So go do that and leave me alone!”
    “ Me,” Lucien continued. “Can you imagine it? Me. Being nice to some rude, snot-nosed kid and taking food orders – food orders! – and asking if he wants frrr ... No, I can't say it. And I'll probably have to wear a hairnet. A hairnet!”
    “ Go away !”
    “ And leave you with your sweet sorrow, I suppose? Not a chance.”
    The sky, which had been gathering darker and darker clouds, very suddenly decided to let the downpour begin. Despite the partial screen of the vibrantly green leaves overhead, the two were drenched in moments, even when the angel tucked his good wing over his head as shelter.
    “ Well then. The Two Realms have forsaken us, we're exhausted and hungry, but at least it's raining and we're wet. Best day ever.” Lucien caught a few raindrops in the palm of his hand, looking up through the foliage and gazing fondly at the clouds. “But you're injured. And you don't look like you like the wet.”
    “ Cold. ”
    “ Alright, come on, then.”  He beckoned the angel along and led him in a slightly different direction than they'd been heading. “Good thing we're near the mountains, hmm? Nice cave to find somewhere. Oh, don't shiver like that, it's not that cold.”
    Eventually they found a small outcropping of rock that afforded them some protection from the driving rain. The angel had managed to collect some fairly dry twigs and leaves that had blown under the overhang before the rain hit. After a few minutes of swearing and coaxing from the angel, accompanied by running commentary and clearly unwelcome advice from Lucien, they managed to start a small fire. They sat on opposite sides of it, trying not to let the one catch the other staring.
    “ So... If we're gonna be walking about for a while,” he began, “Well. Anyway, I'm Lucien.” The angel turned slightly away. “So are you going to tell me yours? I mean, if I need you, I can't be saying 'Hey angelly thing, pass the salt,' or 'Hey, you. Yeah, you with the wings,' or 'So, angelface, think it's going to keep raining?'”
    The angel, still shivering, muttered something.
    “ What was that?”
    “ Lalael,” the angel snapped.
    “ Hmm. Lalael,” the Lucien murmured. “Of the Choir?” he asked, grinning.
    “ What?”
    “ Sounds like the name one of the Choir would have.” Lucien shrugged.
    “ I... started out there.” Something in Lalael's voice spoke of a long-festering hurt. Lucien let the subject drop.
    “ Shall I fix your wing?”
    Lalael drew away apprehensively.
    “ I won't hurt you more than I have