Gabriël groaned when Joan helped him sit down against a slope. He glanced up at his lover, certain she was as exhausted from carrying him as he was from walking such a distance after days of nothing. But, if she was, she didn't show it.
She left him a moment to ensure they hadn't been followed. Gabriël tried to let his eyes grow accustomed to his surroundings. It was dark, but not as dark as the cell had been. He heard Joan's footsteps as she returned and attempted to push himself up, but she stopped him.

"Don't," she said, dropping a knapsack of what he assumed were supplies to the ground. "You need to rest."

"Just a little while," said Gabriël. "Michael will have found out I'm missing by now. Where are we, anyway?"

"You don't recognise it?"

Gabriël closed his eyes, using his other senses to determine his surroundings. He was sitting on cold stone, but not the stone one used to build a house - more like rough rocks. So they hadn't taken the tunnel to the Gates, to Peter's fisherman's hut. Perhaps that was for the best. He would have hated to cause any problems for the old man.
He took a deep breath. The air was fresh. So much nicer than the dank, cold stuffiness of the catacombs. It reminded him of nature. And then he heard it – the rush of water.

"We're in the caverns under the waterfall," he said, opening his eyes. "You remembered."

"The one place Michael's gaze doesn't reach. It took me a while to find the right route to the entrance in the catacombs, though. I searched the tunnels for two days before finding it and then walked the route here to check for traps. We should be safe for the time being."

"Until Michael consults the maps. I marked the route to this place in case of crisis."

"Damn. Well, at least we have a head start. Here, eat something while I fill the canteen. I'll help you bathe as well. The water from the falls should help you recover some of the energy you lost."

As Joan left to get water, Gabriël looked over the supplies – food, some small weapons that could be hidden on their person, their swords, a satchel with herbs, his antidote vials, modern Earth clothes... He was astonished at how well she had prepared their escape. Astonished and grateful. What would he have done without her?

"Where do we go from here?" he asked when she returned with the water.

"The only place we can go, I suppose," Joan said as she sat beside him. "Down to the Mortal Realm to find a Nephilim Sanctum. It's too dangerous for us to stay here. Even if we can convince Michael to listen to us, he will never allow us to be together. And I can't give you up, Gabriël. Being without you these days was agony. I felt just like I did in the days before my execution, only worse. I was sick with worry."

"I've been worried about you, too. And you're right. Leaving is our only option. But I still wished it didn't have to be like this. The Vale has been my home, our home, for so long. It feels wrong to leave."

Joan gently kissed his cheek, comforting him instantly. Gabriël wanted to take her into his arms, but he was far too tired to move. As fatigue finally took hold of him, he heard Joan's soft whispering voice, "Sleep, my love. I will watch over you."

Gabriël's eyes shot back open. His head jerked toward her. 

"What did you say?"

"I, um... N-Nothing. Go to sleep."

"No, hold on, you said, 'my love'. Didn't you?"

She remained quiet and looked down.

"Joan, tell me honestly; do you love me?"

Her lips pressed together. Gabriël sighed at her stubbornness. Fine, if he had to say it first, he would.

"Do you remember when I told you I hadn't been down to Earth to take a lover in a while?"

"Yes. You told me you hadn't in a few centuries."

"Six centuries, give or take a couple of years."

"Why so long?" questioned Joan.

"Can't you guess?"

Her head tilted lightly as she pondered his words. Then, her eyes widened. She met his gaze.

"Gabriël, you don't mean... me?"

He nodded and reached to cup her face with one hand. She visibly held her breath at his touch.  

"The moment you came into my life, I started doubting everything about myself," said Gabriël. "You possessed me completely, but I had to keep my true feelings hidden for you after I learned you were meant to come here. It would have complicated things too much for us had I approached you to be my lover. When you were finally here, you were so distant. And yet so close. We had betrayed you, but for some reason, you always reached out to me when you needed someone. It was so hard for me to be near you all these years and to never be able to hold you. To kiss you. To let you know."

"You refused to take a lover for six centuries... because of me?" she whispered.

Gabriël smiled at her. 

"It's always been you, Joan."

He leaned in to kiss her lips. Somehow, it felt different now. Before, he had told himself they had just wanted each other out of lust, out of desire. But that wasn't what he felt. It never was. He was determined to follow his heart, no matter what the rules or Michael said. And his heart led him to Joan.

***

Michael had the maps of the underground tunnels sprawled over the table in the war room. Carefully, he studied every possible way Joan and Gabriël could have gone. There was no room for error, nor could he simply guess their route. He had to place himself in their mind. Gabriël was a keen planner despite his lack of military skill, but he was weakened by the poison and spending days in a cell. The mastermind in all this had to be Joan.
Unfortunately, Joan was one of the most private persons Michael had ever encountered. She was quick to rage and rant when something was not to her liking, but she was intelligent, too. She took every battle decision with precise calculation. That was what this was to her; a battle. Against him, no less.
The girl's audacity still astounded Michael, even after six hundred years. Once, he had seen her value and had understood why the Lord had requested for Joan to be recruited. But she had never truly accepted her fate. She had become a liability. That she had twisted an Archangel around her finger only made matters worse. She had to be dealt with. But Michael had to find her first.

All safe routes lead to the other side of the Gates, directly descending to Earth, Michael mused as his eyes travelled across the maps once again. They would not be so stupid to pass there. And even if they did, the guards and Peter would alert me.

He raked a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. A single wrong turn in the passageway, and they could have fallen into one of the hidden traps. But what if they found another way out, one that was not on any map? His only choice was taking the tunnels himself to find them. The prospect of searching for hours, if not days, only added to the stress.

Wait, what is this?

Michael's eyes fell on a few markings in one of the tunnels he had never come across before. He noticed them again in the adjoining tunnel. With his finger, he traced them until he arrived at the end. Literally, the map had ended.

Curious. Why would someone go through the trouble of marking a safe path if the map is incomplete? 

He turned the document around and saw a rough sketch of a new maze, or better, a completion of the one he knew of. Michael had to look closely until he found the same markings. They led to a word that was heavily underlined - Cαƚαɾαƈƚα.

Waterfall? And the handwriting is... Gabriël's! He found another way out of the maze!

Michael tried to make sense of this. Why would Gabriël keep this from him? He was Lord Protector; he should have been informed of this.

But he told me... did he not?

A memory returned to him; Gabriël telling him of another pathway in the maze that might look promising. And he had dismissed it. In all these years, the Heavens had never been under attack, so why would there be a need for another way out? Michael hadn't paid him any further heed, but Gabriël must have added this additional map to the back, just in case. Yet what was all this about a waterfall?
He saw all, knew all within the Vale. Yet, the existence of a waterfall was unknown to him. Not once had he come across a waterfall from his balcony or in flight. None had spoken to him of it. Was it possible that only Gabriël knew of it? That he had kept this to himself? Would he have to look to Gabriël as the guilty party in this, after all? 

You were my friend, Gabriël. How can you betray me like this? You of all people... 

Michael felt empty, broken even. He had been blind to the actions of someone closest to him, yet again. Because he had trusted him beyond friendship. Beyond brotherhood. Just like he had trusted... But no more. Gabriël would face his punishment. So would Joan. Folding the map, Michael set out again to find them. And when he did, he would show no mercy.

***

Joan wanted to rest her eyes, yet dared not do so. She had to stay awake in case someone found them. It was only a matter of time before the Lord Protector figured out where they had gone. Michael was not that stupid. 
Gabriël shifted a bit in his sleep, lying with his head on her lap. Despite being tired, they'd bathed together in the underwater pool further in the cavern to wash away the harsh memories of past days. The water had revitalised Gabriël, to the point that he'd been strong enough to pull Joan close and show her exactly how much he loved her. In that blissful moment, all their troubles seemed forgotten.

Joan fought the urge to run her fingers through his hair, afraid she would wake him. He needed his rest. She doubted he'd had a good night's sleep in that horrible cell. Her lips curled up into a smile as she looked at him in his Earth clothes. Who knew sneakers, jeans, and a simple black t-shirt would suit an Archangel? Joan herself was wearing a purple tunic with brown leggings and ankle boots. Her leather jacket lay next to her.
As soon as Gabriël awoke, they would head down to the Mortal Realm. Of course, they would have to look for the Nephilim, but that shouldn't be too hard. Joan just hoped that the Nephilim wouldn't turn them away. They adapted to modern life quickly, yet held all their angelic abilities apart from their grace. She was certain she could continue to be a warrior, while Gabriël could attempt learning magic. Yet if the Nephilim turned them away, fearing reprisals from Michael when he found them harbouring fugitives, there was nowhere left to turn. Gabriël had known no other life than that of an Archangel, and her own had ended six hundred years ago. It wouldn't take the darkness long to find them then. 

God, please, do not forsake us for choosing love over duty. We can still fight for You, as was planned in Your design. But please, I beg of you, let us be together. Allow us a haven. Somewhere. Anywhere. Please...

Suddenly, Joan heard a sound. She glanced into the tunnel but saw no one. Then she thought of the other entrance, the small crevasse hidden behind the thundering waterfall. But it was nearly impossible to get to.
She heard the sound again, more clearly now. Definitely footsteps coming from the fissure. Joan nudged Gabriël, quickly placing her hand over his mouth so he wouldn't speak as he woke up. He saw her alerted expression and nodded in understanding.
Both angels stood and pressed themselves against the rocky wall. Joan quietly passed a dagger to Gabriël as she grasped the hilt of her sword. They waited, hearing the footsteps closing in.

"Joan? Ma fille, are you here?"

The sound of her mother's voice nearly made Joan drop her sword. How could she forget she showed her the entrance years ago, after Gabriël had? Joan moved to leave her hiding place, but Gabriël stopped her, cautioning her to wait.

"I came alone," Isabelle said. "I made sure I was not followed like you taught me. Joan, if you are here, please come out."

Joan threw a desperate look at her lover. This would be the last time she would see her mother. He had to let her say goodbye. Gabriël peeked around the wall and then inclined his head to her. She stepped away from the rocks and ran over to her mother. 

"Joan!" The old woman took her daughter in her arms as if she had not seen her in years. "Praise the Lord, you are well."

"Maman, what are you doing here?"

"I came to warn you. Michael is looking for you. Both of you."

"We know we can't stay here for long," said Gabriël as he approached to greet the woman who had cared for him like a mother would her son.

"What will you do?" Isabelle asked.

"Go to Earth," replied Joan. "Join the Nephilim."

"Je comprends. So, it's true then? You are... together?"

Joan took a step back from her mother to take Gabriël's hand in hers. The time had come.

"Oui, maman. Please, don't be angry. We tried to fight it, but -"

"You can't fight your feelings, Joan," Isabelle interrupted. "I just need to know that this is really what both of you want. Are you willing to go up against Michael for each other?"

"I love Joan, Isabelle," said Gabriël. "If that means defying Michael and God Himself, then so be it. Some things are more important than duty."

Joan pinched his hand as Gabriël smiled at her. She felt relieved that her mother knew now. Perhaps she could help them escape. Or, worst-case scenario, speak in their defence against Michael. She looked back at her mother. The old woman looked agitated.

"We'll be fine, maman," Joan tried to reassure her.

"Once you're both gone from this place, you will be," said her mother. "But as long as you're here, you're in danger. Especially you, Joan."

"Why?" asked Gabriël. "Has something happened?"

He threw Joan a worried glance. She felt her chest tighten. What now? 

"In a manner of speaking, yes." Isabelle took a deep breath before continuing. "You are -" 

"Do not say another word, Isabelle."

Their heads snapped toward the tunnel. Joan's eyes widened in fright when she saw the person they'd been running from emerging from the darkness. Michael had found them.

***

The trio recoiled when the Lord Protector emerged from the tunnel. He glared at Joan and Gabriël. What he'd heard had been more than enough proof of their treachery. He drew his sword, making it clear to them he hadn't come to talk.
He weighed the best course of action. Isabelle presented no threat to him; she was the most easily subdued if it came to that. Gabriël was weakened and a poor fighter, but he was clever. All he would need was an opening. Michael's only option was to neutralise him quickly so he could get to Joan. As he approached them, Isabelle shielded Joan behind her. took Joan's sword and held it and a dagger up in defence.

"Not one step further, Michael," warned Gabriël, stepping in front of both women, taking Joan's sword from her to raise it, along with a dagger he had already.

"You dare raise your weapon at me?" Michael hissed at him. "You dare challenge me?"

"Only if you force my hand. I hope it will not come to that. Michael, please, let us go, in the name of our friendship."

"Our friendship? You spat on our friendship, our existence even when you bedded her!"

"There is no need for this, Michael," said Joan. "We will still fight for you after we've joined the Nephilim. You can count on us, I swear it."

"The Nephilim?" Michael halted at the tip of Gabriël's sword and looked over his shoulder into her eyes. "You will not join them, Joan. I have warned you of what your punishment would be if you defied me."

"You won't touch her!" yelled Gabriël.

He made to strike Michael, but he blocked Gabriël's attack with his own sword. Gabriël used Michael's position to his advantage and swiftly struck him with his dagger. Michael was too late to move away and felt the dagger's cold steel cut his cheek. As blood dripped out of the wound, Michael felt his rage take over. He charged at Gabriël with every intention of harming him, but to his surprise, Gabriël deflected every attack. Michael didn't understand how he could do so, but the sudden bravado the Archangel showed pushed him to act. He got a hold of Gabriël's sword arm and twisted it around, making the latter drop his weapon, screaming in pain. The dagger followed swiftly after a well-aimed blow against the wrist. With Gabriël now defenceless, Michael punched him hard in his belly so that the Archangel dropped to the floor, doubled over, and gasping for breath. He kicked him away with such force that Gabriël smacked against the rocky wall with a sickening sound, knocking him out.

"Michael, no! Stop it!"

Joan pushed her mother aside and came at Michael from behind. But he saw her coming from the corner of his eye and stopped her in her tracks, pushing her hard against her chest. She fell over and was knocked out for a few seconds. Michael took Joan by her hair and lifted her to her knees. She struggled against his grip, scratching his hand and arm, but he wouldn't let go.
Isabelle flung herself at him. Effortlessly, Michael pushed the old woman away, ignoring her desperate cry and tears. The time for sentiment and compassion was over. Using his divine powers, Michael made Joan's wings grow, causing her to struggle harder. He lifted his sword.

"May the Lord have mercy on you."

With one swift stroke, Michael cut Joan's wings off. She screamed as the fire residing in the core of his weapon washed over her, burning away her grace. The floor beneath them cracked. Michael let go and drew away. He stopped Isabelle from reaching her daughter, holding her back by grasping her arm. 

"Joan..."

He turned to find Gabriël had regained consciousness. 

"You are too late, Gabriël," said Michael. "It is done."

"NO! I won't let you take her from me!"

Gabriël attempted to get up, but was forced back to his knees when they buckled. Blood dripped from a wound on his head. He crawled toward Joan. As the flames dissipated around her, she raised her head to him. Tears rolled down her cheeks as their eyes met.

"Gabriël... I love you."

The ground beneath her gave way, and Joan fell, Gabriël's harrowing cry following her into the deep abyss below.

***

Grigori stepped into his Master's chambers after receiving an urgent message from him. The dark figure stood hidden in shadows at the back of the room.

"Send Borgia to Earth to retrieve the girl."

"At once, Master." Grigori bowed to him. "And Gabriël?"

"Will follow soon enough. It's finally happened, Grigori. Michael shall forever remember this day as the beginning of the end."