Connor tried to pat the dirt from his sweatpants, but to no avail. He stood before his mid-twentieth century bungalow, staring at the steel-blue front door. He counted down from five, then jogged up his porch steps, hearing the faint sound of baseball commentary as he entered.

"Welcome back, honey!" his mother exclaimed. She was a heavy-set woman with dyed bleach-blonde hair. Her crow's feet flexed as her mouth curled into a smile. "How was the movie?"

Connor set his keys on the kitchen counter. "Pretty good. It was way longer than I thought it would be, though."

His father turned from the TV, fixing his cool, dark-brown eyes on his son. Connor felt naked as he scanned him. "Welcome home, son."

"Thanks." Connor glanced at the game's score. They're losing. I have an opening, he thought. "So, what's the score?"

His father sunk into his recliner, shuffling his charcoal-black hair. "3-2. Bottom of the 8th. Sanders hit a two-run homer off Martinez. We had a pathetic bullpen last season, so why we decid—"

"Connor, what happened to your pants?" his mother asked.

He feigned a look of indifference as he inspected the dirt on his pants. "Oh, that? I accidentally fell in the parking lot. No big deal."

His father smiled. "And you didn't run home crying. You toughed it out and risked being made fun of. Damn it, I wish our outfielders had that mentality. Did you know—"

Connor's mom put a hand on his husband's shoulder. "Honey, please..."

"Oh, right. Sorry about that. So, are you hurt?"

Connor chuckled nervously. "I'm fine, just a little tired. I'm thinking about heading to bed early."

"Okay, sweetie. I'll tell your father to turn the TV down."

"Damn it!" his father yelled. Skinny veins popping out of his neck as he snarled at the screen.

Connor's mom sighed. "I'll see what I can do." She squinted at Connor's chest, then asked, "Where did you get that necklace? It's so pretty."

Connor smiled warmly at his amethyst pendant wrapped in slivers of gold. "Summer gave it to me. It was a gift." Connor looked up, a mocking grin met his gaze. "Um, V got one too."

"Mhm," his mother said. "Put your pants in the hamper; I'll wash them later. Good night, sweetie."

"Good nigh—damn it!" his father yelled, waving a dismissive hand in his direction.

"Thanks guys. Night." They didn't even ask me what I saw, Connor thought as he scurried up the stairs. He undressed, then neatly folded his clothes before putting them in the hamper. While inspecting his dirt covered shoes, he glanced over at the row of identical sneakers that formed a line next to his closet door. He placed his dirty shoes near the hamper. I'll clean them tomorrow, he thought while eying the door to his bathroom.

Connor stood in front of his bathroom mirror, looking at the clear outline of his aura. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breath for several minutes, opening them to the same transparent outline he saw every night. He slumped his shoulders. What good is having wings if I can't even see them?

He removed the bandage on his forearm, revealing the scabbed over cigarette burn mark. Losing himself in the exposed pink of the wound, he recalled the events of the sanatorium.

If I just had more information, he thought. Then what, idiot? You'd magically be able to put a stop to it? He wore duplicity like a cherished baseball cap, yet even he didn't know how much longer he could hide how grave the circumstances truly were.

A perpetual sense of foreboding clung to him since they encountered the first demon. Actually, that's not it—he felt off the moment he saw Victor enter his angel mode for the first time during gym class. It was a stark reminder that Connor didn't belong—he was nothing more than a tourist tasked with spying on his best friend.

There were moments throughout the years when he forgot his purpose for entering this plane. Moments when all that mattered was studying for an important test, or landing his first skate trick. Moments when he would lie awake with Victor and Summer on a three-way call, chatting and laughing into the early morning. Ultimately, what Victor awakening his powers did was remind him of his duty, something he throughout the years began to forget.

Connor replaced the bandage and then hopped onto his bed, gazing up at his sky-blue ceiling. His walls were the same shade of blue, splotches of white paint of varying shapes and sizes were scattered about. Some mornings, he'd wake up and feel like he had actually slept under the beautiful summer sky.

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He rolled over and checked his phone. To his delight, he saw a text from Summer.

Our second meditation session is tomorrow at 11:30! :)

Connor grinned and responded with a thumbs up emoji. He laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes. Summer's face was all he saw. Her beautiful smile covering him in a sheet of comfort. Physical attraction was one thing—and there was plenty of that in spades—but with Summer, it was much more. It had been sixteen years since he entered this plane, yet his time in Heaven was still vivid. He recalled the warmth permeating throughout his ethereal body. Summer was the only person to elicit a similar feeling.

Calm down. She's just a friend. These feelings aren't real, he lied.

The pale morning sun slanted through his partially closed blinds, leaving pillars of light on his covers. Connor let out a groan. His dreams of late had been of him flying above Covington without a care in the world. Then, as if clipping a bird's wings mid-flight, he would come crashing down, waking up right before hitting the ground. He suffered through the dream several times that night, each instance causing him to spring up in a panic.

He checked his phone. Shit, I'm gonna be late! He sprinted to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and freshened up as best as he could. After getting dressed, he darted out of his house.

Connor stopped a couple of houses away from Summer's eccentrically colored home and turned on his phone's front-facing camera. He checked for sleep in his eyes, tussled his hair, and ended with a quick sniff of his armpits before continuing toward her house.

The exterior of Summer's home was a mishmash of bright colors. The incredible variety of vegetation and the goofy stone and plastic knickknacks sprinkled about made it easy to spot from a distance.

There was a black sedan parked in Summer's driveway. Connor inspected it and realized that it was Mr. Au's car.

He plodded up the porch steps, looking at the neon-green colored front door suspiciously. Connor rang the doorbell and Summer appeared, glaring at the ground. She stepped to the side to reveal her grandmother sitting at a table with Victor's dad across from her.

He stepped inside. Victor sat on the couch, his eyes focusing on the stone attached to his necklace. Connor frantically patted his neck, feeling for his pendant.

Damn it.

"Good morning, Mrs. Kahale. Good morning, Mr. Au," Connor said.

"It's 11:47 Connor. You're late," Summer's grandmother said, giving him a flat stare. "Please sit down." She pointed at a chair. Connor snuck a look at Summer before taking a seat. Anguish and rage twisted her face into a look that made her almost unrecognizable.

"Where did you guys go last night?" Mr. Au asked. Connor froze. A cavalcade of potential responses sprinted across his mind, yet he couldn't grab one. "I guess silence is better than an outright lie," Mr. Au added while giving Victor a disapproving glare.

"Not only did Summer lie to me twice in one day, I find out that you guys were out playing hero and putting yourselves in danger?" Mrs. Kahale said.

"She needed our help!" Summer yelled. "We couldn't just sit here and do nothing!"

Mrs. Kahale slightly flinched at the sudden interjection. She then leaned back in her chair with her arms folded. "Why didn't you call the police?"

"And say what? There's a demon holding a girl hostage? You can only kill him by chopping his head off and holy water stuns him for a bit? Trying to explain all of this to the police would have wasted precious time."

Mrs. Kahale glared at her. "Watch your tone."

Summer turned away, her fingers fiddling with her pendant.

Victor sat up, eying his father with an unfazed stare. "Dad, you told me you would support me no matter what, right?"

Mr. Au raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't mean I want you recklessly putting yourself in harm's way."

Victor's face was iron. "I know keeping secrets from you is wrong, and for that, I'm sorry." He paused—his resolve was almost tangible, extending out like a wave. "But what I won't apologize for is helping someone in need. I know I got these powers for a reason, and I think..." He shot Summer a glance, his face softening. "And I think what we did yesterday was that reason. If we hadn't shown up, who knows what that demon would have done to April. I love you Dad, but if you think I'm gonna ignore an opportunity to use my powers to save someone, you don't know me at all."

A chuckle escaped Mr. Au's lips.

"Is something funny?" Summer's grandmother asked.

"I finally know how my parents felt." He moved to the empty cushion next to his son. "When I first told them that I wanted to join the military, they didn't talk to me for weeks. Even after all the pleading, I didn't budge. I knew I had an opportunity to help people, and that's all that mattered to me." He smiled at Victor. "What can I do to help?"

"What?" Mrs. Kahale said. "Chester, they're sixteen!"

"Only two years younger than I was when I enlisted. The number of murders I've had to hear about this month alone has made me sick to my stomach. There's something going on here, and I'm almost certain these demons are the cause."

Summer walked up to her grandmother. "Granny, when I jumped in April's body, I felt her despair—her praying for the nightmare to end. It's something I'll never forget. I'm sorry for lying to you, but I don't regret my decision." Summer tried to mimic Victor's tone, but Connor sensed a hint of trepidation.

"I'll train her," Mr. Au added. "I'm more than willing to take time out of my day to make sure that your granddaughter can properly defend herself." Connor didn't have many interactions with him, but he suddenly knew why Victor lit up every time he mentioned his father.

Mrs. Kahale stared at her granddaughter with glossy eyes. "Summer, I... I can't lose anyone else. I don't think my heart could take it."

Summer embraced her. "I have two guardian angels watching my back. I think I'm gonna be okay." Summer finally smiled her bright, toothy smile.

"I still think we should try to get the police involved. I'll head over to the station this evening," Mrs. Kahale said.

Summer nodded. "Thanks, granny."

"Now then," Mr. Au said while facing Summer. "When are you free to start your training?"