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I walk to the bathroom mirror to wet my face. Take a deep breath before leaning against the counter.
"Ash, what the hell is going on? What did you see?"
I'm on the verge of tears, and Raven knows it. I can't hold back what I saw.
I stop the water from flowing and lean back. "I saw the angels, this time," I say. "They were... dying. They were all dying."
Her face is pale with fear. It takes her a while to respond. "Well, it can't be true," she says.
I nod and blink my eyes, awkwardly adjusting to being awake.
"Yeah," I say. "Yeah, you're probably right.
We walk to the car in silence.
Last night...
Did last night really happen? Or was it all just a dream?
Raven was so close to me. I don't just mean physically close. We were mentally just... there. In that zone of love. It's the kind of place that most people search their whole lives for.
We found it, but it was cut short by an overbearing hotel alarm. We were thrust back into reality.
I wish this was easy. I wish that, being a god came with more cool powers and less responsibility. But the truth of the matter is that none of this is easy. At all. It doesn't matter how coherent these visions get. It just gets harder.
And the more days that pass, the more I begin to doubt what Odin told us to do.
Sometimes, I can picture myself sleeping under that overpass.
It feels like I've lived a thousand different lives. Even though I can connect the dots of time together, none of it makes much sense to me. Who I was when I was a boy is so different from the man I am today. And where I'm going... well, that scares the hell out of me.
In the car, Raven asks, "Who are you, Ash Crowley?"
"Who am I? You know who I am, Raven," I say.
But I know that I've held back so much from her.
She smiles warmly. "No, like... your family. The important things. I want to know everything about you, Ash."
I feel my heart drop. For some reason, I didn't expect this conversation to happen so fast.
I sigh, but Loki laughs. "Why are you sighing? She likes you, dumbass."
Heimdall socks his arm and tells him to hush.
It's easier for them to
keep going. They didn't see what I saw this morning.
"I guess I should tell you about my family. But we're not exactly picture-perfect," I say.
"Neither is mine," she tells me. "Dead dad. Hippie mother."
I immediately take her hand. "Guess we're all a little--"
"Fucked up? Yeah, I guess so," she says. "You get to know people, and you realize everyone in this world has some fucked up past. But you know what? It's okay. We're all in this together, right?"
"Right," I say.
