The calm after the storm was rarely ever discussed. It was always the calm before, that heavy and pregnant silence that was doomed to be shattered, and give birth to massive destruction. Those who were alive to experience it, however, and live through it were left to pick up the pieces after. Thus, the calm that blossomed into existence after the devastation had come to an end, was all the more saddening. Lives were almost always lost, homes destroyed, and communities were left to climb back to their feet with aching hearts.

It had been no different for the supposed "End of Days", Natalie had realized, as she had stood among the wreckage herself that day and watched as her loved ones stumbled to their feet. All but one.

What no one had expected, though, was that the end of all days had simply meant; The end of all days as they knew it. Earth itself had not ceased to exist when Michael and Lucifer had finally come to blows. It did not blink out of existence in an inferno brought on by their violence. Had it been dealt a serious blow? Yes, in the sense that Heaven and Hell had ceased to exist. What had risen to take its place was a sort of combined afterlife in which all souls passed through as they were mended, polished, and sent back to be reborn. A garden in which all those who lived, saints and sinners alike, were lead to by Death himself to be healed before they were sent back out to experience life again, with new memories to make and old ones replaced. It was a balance that had sorely been needed. A balance that the concept of Heaven and Hell could not provide. It was too much for the world to continually birth new souls to die and then be sent to their perspective afterlives. Earth's population would grow and diminish while Heaven and Hell would swell and swell with souls, and while heaven could always expand, Hell could not. Hell had been contained within one being, one person, and the continues onslaught of damned souls swelling within him could not be withstood for much longer. He had known that. Known it as his mind was slowly driven to madness and he desperately clung to all that he could to keep himself in check. So he had to end it. Either he chose to end it, or all those trapped within him, billions by that point, would surge forth and take the world themselves.

And as the battle had come to an end, as the world had lain in ruins around them, a solution was born. A solution that God himself had been working towards from the moment his favored son had revolted and fallen. He had seen the error in his judgement then, and had started pulling strings to birth a solution.

Natalie was born into the world as a normal human child, but her soul had been special, he had made sure of it. She would be their garden.

And as everything came to an end, and Heaven was destroyed in their fight, and Lucifer himself wounded beyond all repair, the remaining souls, with nowhere to go, were drawn to her. The tattoos that she had gained per God's request sealed them within her, but the additional tattoos upon her chest allowed them to pass back into the world when they were ready. It was a sun, simple in design, and warm and inviting. Those who had passed were pulled through her, into an comforting darkness lit up with bioluminescent flowers and forests, where they would heal their wounds and hearts in quiet. And when they were ready, the sun would shine on them, and beckon them forth to return to their new lives once more.

Natalie had made the ultimate sacrifice to end the war and chosen to take on all the responsibilities and hardships that had pushed the angels to their breaking point by herself. It was hard. Not because the task itself was difficult, because it was not (she simply had to exist as herself and the work would be done on its own), but because she had gained immortality with it. She knew it as soon as the first soul had entered her heart and nestled itself among the garden sleepily, like a child wrapped in its mother's warmth, and her chest had felt heavy while her body grew light. And it had broken her heart to know that she would outlive all her friends and family. Most, anyways.

The world had ended as they knew it because, the presence of angels and demons alike, had been exposed to all that day. With no heaven to return to, the angels had taken up roost on Earth to spend the rest of their lives along with the demons who had fallen long ago. With no heavenly essence to live off of, they were now connected to Natalie herself, and would come and go to replenish their lives. With all the worlds souls recycling through her, she had no shortage of energy to supply, and it was beautiful in its simplicity. In a way, she had become a mother to all.

But there was one soul she had not yet felt return to her, one very loved and cherished by her. Lucifer himself had disappeared. In the battle to end all days, he had been wounded beyond all repair, left as a broken shell when the souls he had harbored for so long left him in an explosive rush of power. And in the uproar of it all, the fires and screams soon followed by quiet awe, he had vanished.

And Natalie cried.

She cried for so long that storms head swallowed up the Earth to echo her emotional turmoil. They washed away the destruction that had been wrought, all the rubble and debris of ruined lives and homes, and soothed the wounds gouged within the Earth itself. Her sorrow provided the opportunity for rebirth, but it did not ease her own pain. It rained when angels cried.

His soul did not return to her as all those who had died in battle had. She had wondered if God himself had simply chosen to wipe him out of existence, took pity on him and all that he had endured, and took him from the world so that he could feel no further pain ever again. Another part of her wondered if he had survived, and simply slipped away in the turmoil to nurse his wounds, and would one day come back. Or not, she added as an afterthought, maybe he would start a new life for himself.

Either way, she still lived, and with no heaven for her to live out her existence within she had to make a life for herself.

She chose to continue as normal, as Lucifer himself had tried to while the souls of the damned clamored within him to escape, and returned to her home and family to rebuild their lives.

Now she stood, six years later, more or less a grown woman, working a normal job to make ends meet. She would never be left wanting, as all angels and demons alike worked to provide for her whatever she needed, but she had chosen to work to keep her mind occupied. She could not stand the quiet, as though her heart was a refuge for all souls, she still heard their voices. It was not as chaotic and consuming as Hell had been for Lucifer, but it did distract her at times, so she chose to keep her mind working and got herself a job. She had been given a large house, acquired by the angels, and had filled it with as many of her friends and family as she could. As much chaos as its walls could handle to keep her in the present. But six days out of the week she worked at a Hookah Bar opened by Laila herself.

Laila had abhorred smoking, but after meeting Festus, she had picked up the habit. Hookah, though, as Natlie and herself discovered on a night on the town, was a much better experience. Laila recalled several times in which she had watched the demon stand out in the cold, a glowing cigarette cupped within his hands to protect its fragile light from the wind and rain, and understood the separation and loneliness a smoker felt. Hookah was different. A hookah was set up on a table in the middle of a room full of people who would pass a hookah hose around, talking and laughing, while smooth and delicious flavored tobacco danced across their tongues. Was it healthier? No. But did it sooth aching and lonely souls? Yes.

In the process of rebuilding their lives, she had taken out a business lone, and purchased an parking lot and building to create a refuge of her own for the living. The warehouse had needed a lot of work but after a year it had been renovated and filled with comfortable furniture and décor, televisions, games, an actual bar, and pool tables. They served light food, nothing fancy, but enough to fill the bellies of any who were hungry, and the alcohol they provided was of the comfort variety. Beer and wine. Laila would not put up with hard liquor, though they had built in several bathrooms for convenience, she would not stand for messes.

It was a place in which all were welcome.

Natalie loved it because she imagined Lucifer would very much approve in his hedonistic way. It was a safe place for humans to indulge in their less than healthy habits, but also, provided a sense of community and assurance. The world was still rebuilding, so such businesses were held in high regard. Natalie loved it because, while she filled ceramic bowls with the sticky flavored tobacco, she could also watch the small blocks of coal used to heat the tobacco smolder on the burners. The coals would slowly begin to lite, like embers in the darkness they glowed, and they reminded her of him. Of his eyes and wings and very soul. Small, sometimes broken, but capable of providing so much. Natalie loved it because it was never slow. Business was booming always, as the large building attracted humans, angels, and demons alike and she was never bored.

The world was rebuilding and it was beautiful. Crime rate decreased exponentially and love and laughter filled the streets. Sure, people still had their woes as they always would, but it was so much better knowing that angels walked the Earth and they would always be reborn to try again. It pushed them to do better.

Natalie stood, as a grown woman, in the kitchen of their little business staring at the coals as she always did while the sound of a chattering crowd slipped under the door to soothe the chattering in her mind. She was happy, for the most part, but her heart would always be broken. That did not mean she was any less whole, she had learned, it just meant she had a little more character. A little more to tell and give. And, in all honesty, she felt it suited her just fine.

She switched the burners off, noticing that the coals had fully lit, and used a pair of metal tongs sitting on the counter to pick them up, one by one, and set them aside to be used for new guests. Laila had slid into the kitchen behind her with a few ceramic bowls to be filled with new shisha, the sticky tobacco used for Hookah, and spared her a small smile.

"McAllister," Laila greeted, "You here early today."

Natalie shrugged with a smile, "I had nothing else to do, besides, who else would do all the restocking?" It was true, for all of their business, they had too few hands to help. Laila was the owner and main manager of the place, but Natalie had been given the title of manager as well. They ran the place together and hired on many people, but the turnover rate was quick. This was not due to poor management, but rather the state of the world. Everything was changing, people were moving and exploring the new world, and learning from them to open similar establishments in other locations. It was good, and meant more hours for the two of them to collect pay and tips. Who could complain?

"Fair point," Laila laughed.

Natalie threw her hands in the air in good humor and slipped out of the kitchen. A small hall lead out into the main area of the building where the pleasant chatter originated from. Rather than join the crowds, though, Natalie turned to climb a set of stairs that lead up into the main office. It was a decent sized room filled with bookshelves, two desks, and a small living room set up consisting of a couch and coffee table. A television sat across from the couch, on a small black entertainment center, where the news was always playing.

She stopped at a full length mirror hanging from the wall and adjusted her bun. A few locks fell to frame her face nicely and she smiled. She wore a pair of denim skinny jeans and a baggy black sweater that hung off one shoulder that day, her customary black headband present to hold back any unwanted flyaway wisps of hair. The outfit was completed with a pair of cushioned black flats built for long hours on your feet. It was cute and comfortable, she had decided, and a little closer to Laila's gothic look she had so admired as a teenager.

Her smile grew into a grin.

She sat down at her desk to mark off all the items that had been restocked, the sheaf of papers larger than one would expect, but manageable. She chewed on the pen cap absently as her eyes scanned the lines of products thoughtfully. It was boring, but she was grateful she was sitting down at that moment, as the sun tattoo on her chest began to glow. Warmth spread through her body and she grew lightheaded at the telltale signs of a handful of souls returning to the world to be reborn.

"Thank you," they whispered as they left her to start their new lives.

Tears sprung to her eyes as a grin grew across her face and she sent out a silent "Your welcome, live well."

She rubbed at her chest and returned to her work once more. It was midafternoon and she wanted to finish before night fell. Once seven PM hit, they would be full to bursting with guests, and Laila would need all the helping hands she could get.

Natalie groaned and flopped across her desk with a sigh. It was Saturday too, so she knew it was going to be crazy busy on top of it, and her body already ached at the thought of the long night. For all her immortality, she was still very much human physically, and even she would grow tired after a few hours of hard work on her feet.

She would have herself a hookah before it all started, she decided, and pushed herself to her feet. She returned to kitchen to get her own hookah set up, a black glass vase and gold down stem, and threw a hose over her shoulder while she packed herself a bowl. Once the coals had been lit, she carried it all out into the main room where several people were sitting about on couches and tables. Despite the earlier hour, the room was filled with sweet tasting smoke already. The day light streaming in through the windows lit the smoke for all to see, it swirled within the rays of light lazily, and lent an ethereal feel to the room.

Some classic eighties rock played over the sound system to provide background noise to the chatter and laughter. There were a few people sitting up at the bar for happy hour, Natalie noticed, as she padded across the concrete flooring and found a couch in the back to claim as her own. It was her favorite. A big red micro fiber sectional that you practically melted in when one sat down on its plush cushions. She had provided an expensive rug, gifted to her by Gabriel himself, to add more décor to that specific area. It was thick, soft, and perfect to dig your toes into and the floral pattern went well with the red couches and black coffee table. To confirm this, she kicked her shoes off every time before she set foot on the rug to enjoy is as much as she could.

The smoke was thick back there as she set her hookah down and wriggled her toes within the rug happily. She looked up at the air vent above the couch thoughtfully, wondering why it was not working at that moment, before shrugging and threw herself onto the couch with a pleased sigh. She would worry about it later.

"Nat!"

She groaned and pushed herself up to see Nathan, their bar tender, waiving her over urgently. "What?" she called back, loath to move from her spot.

"Come here, I made a new drink and I need a taste tester," he shot back with a laugh as she grudgingly pulled herself off of the couch and trotted over. The few people at the bar chuckled at her antics.

"Show me watch you got," she drawled as she slid to a stop behind the bar with her hands on her hips.

Nathan, a twenty-five your old man with short brown hair and a goatee, grinned as he handed her a small glass filled with an orange opaque liquid. "It's got peach juice, a bit of fireball, and a cinnamon sugar rim," he stated as she waved it under her nose to get a good smell of it.

"It smells good," she mumbled in surprise before taking a sip of it. She smacked her lips for affect, looked back down at the half filled glass with raised brows, before throwing the rest of it back like a champ. "That's good stuff," she admitted with a grin.

"Alright, another one to add to the menu," he crowed in triumph. He threw the washcloth, previously slung over his shoulder, on to the counter in triumph and clapped his hands.

"Alright, alright," Natalie placated him with a laugh, "Calm thyself." She greeted the guests at the bar with a cheery waive before turning back towards her couch. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to enjoy my hookah now."

"Make sure to drink some water," Nathan cautioned with a grin as she padded away. Hookah and alcohol were a bad mix, something they always cautioned their guests on, as it could often give one a dizzying affect.

Natalie returned to her hookah with another sigh and paused to adjust the bowl at the top to make sure the tobacco wasn't burning too horribly. She was about to sit back down when she noticed there was someone sitting within the matching plush red armchair next to the couch. There was a window just behind it, and a large potted plant to the side, with those two factors and the smoke she had nearly missed their presence all together. As it were, she could not see who it was due to the light streaming in through the window.

"Hi there!" she greeted cheerily. "Did you just get here? Are you looking to get yourself a hookah too?" she queried.

Broad shoulders could be seen above the back of the chair, a black button up shirt, and jeans. One leg was thrown over a knee, ankle perched just so, and fingers drummed on the arms of the chair. It was certainly an intimidating position and advertised the level of confidence within the person who sat in such a way in any public establishment. But Natalie was rarely phased and continued to smile as she waited for a response.

The fingers halted in their steady rhythm. The man did not answer her as he pushed himself out of the chair and stepped around the coffee table smoothly, his height impressive as he stood before her. And as the smoke cleared the light from the window blocked by his form, her heart froze.

Yellow eyes stared down at her, piercing and searching, desperate for recognition.

Natalie took half a step back as the distant chatter of the bar fell away and something inside of her chest swelled. She half thought she was going to vomit, the taste of the peach juice and fireball she had just drunken pungent in the back of her mouth.

He grabbed her shoulders and the familiar steady weight left her heart soaring as tears sprung to her eyes and the desperation in those achingly missed eyes dispersed in so much relief. Tears spilled forth down his cheeks and his hands trembled.

His knees gave out and he sagged against her, knocking the hookah to the ground as she dropped to her own knees under his weight. The glass shattered and Laila and Nathan rushed across the ware house at the sound. Lit coals danced across the floor and skittered to a halt on the rug, smoldering through its fibers in a matter of seconds, voices shouted out in panic as a fire sprouted to life next to the coffee table. Someone called for a fire extinguisher and the hurried shuffle to follow was filled with panic.

Natalie heard none of it as she stared into those piercing yellow eyes that, even in his weakened state, stole her breath away. Her hand found its way to the back of his head, fingers curling within black locks, and pulled him towards in her in a daze. Arms wrapped around her in desperation, yearning to feel her against him, as he rested his head on her shoulder and allowed his tears to trail across her bare flesh.

"Lucifer!" a voice called from across the room.

The building fell silent as Laila put the fire out and set the extinguisher on the coffee table with a practiced ease. Not a single strand of her black hair was out of place as she stared with wide eyes at the two crouched on the floor.

The silence was broken by a single keening sob from Natalie herself.

"Where have you been?" she spat out in an accusing tone through her sobs. Her hand never left his head, eyes vacant as she stared out through the window in front of her. His arms tightened around her, he had not the strength to answer, and rocked her back and forth within his grasp. He was weak. Weak from being severed from heaven, losing his wings, fighting Michael, and then . . . then he had spent years trying to find himself. The black abyss that was his heart and soul, once home to billions of the damned, was empty and he did not know who or what he was for the longest of times. He had gone six years without her, six years without any essence from heaven, or the energy she herself now offered. It had taken him years to sense her and stumble his way back to her. To his home. But he had made it. He had found himself again and returned.

"I'm sorry," he forced out through his tight throat and clenched teeth. His ears, still long and pointed as she had known them to be, drooped under the weight of his relief.

"You jerk," she bawled and buried her face into his shoulder as well.

"I'm sorry," he repeated and squeezed his eyes shut against the turmoil of emotions within him. They clawed at the inside of his chest and raked it raw.

Natalie pushed him back to stare up into his eyes again, her own red rimmed and filled with tears, and pulled his face down to hers. Their lips met for the first time and his desperation was awoken again. His own hand slid up to the back of her head, deepening the kiss, while his other arm tightened around her waist.

Somewhere in the room, someone whistled, and the place exploded into applause and catcalls. Angels and demons alike, present within the building, cried in joy. And as they kissed, more and more arrived, having caught word from others. Angels seemed to appear out of thin air while demons arrived through shadows and doorways, desperate to catch sight of their missing brother, and the reunion they had all hoped would happen.

They separated to catch each other's eyes again. Lucifer's dropped to the tattoo, just under her collarbone, and shakily lifted a hand against it. It was warm to the touch and seemed to glow under his palm.

"Beautiful," he whispered, for once, in awe of what his father had created. Before him sat a garden of healing. No secrets or laws to restrain and control her existence. She just was. He grasped her shoulders again, taking in all that she was, all that she had become and smiled. He recalled that she had once been a sad but cheery teenage girl, caught up in her own woes, and dragging him along with against his will. How they both had grown.

Natalie smiled back through her tears. "I missed you," she mumbled through her own throat tight with emotion.

He grinned, teeth just as sharp as she remembered, "I missed you too, kid."

And her broken heart began to heal for the first time in six years.