When Love Intervenes

A Legion Fanfiction

Enjoy.

AN: This- in a nutshell- is a highly edited and remastered version of my beloved Legion story Our Fall From Grace. While the first version of my story was well-received by readers, I am the very first person to admit that I wasn't too happy with it after awhile. And so I present you with a story that goes more in depth with the character of Lily and her relationships with the Archangels Michael and Gabriel. And again, I hope you enjoy!

When I was a little girl, my mother would remind me each night before bed, to open up my heart to God, for He was kind, merciful, and just. That all changed when my dad walked out, right after my mom began to get sick. Mom never talked of a kind and merciful God again. Instead she spoke of a prophecy. Of a time when all the world would be covered in darkness and the fate of mankind would be decided.

Little did I know I would play a role in that battle.

I had my jacket pulled tight around me, my head bowed.

There were people everywhere, committing crime and sin. Bloodshed by guns and knives, murder in the streets and rape in broad daylight. It had been that way long before my birth and even with our government, our police forces, no one had done- or currently, was doing a fucking thing about it.

Except me.

"Hey, get away from there," I said loudly, looking at the teenagers tagging the decrepit building in front of them. They scoffed and looked back at me, one of the young guys coming forward with a can of spray paint in his hand. "And what the fuck are you going to do about it?" I fired from my hip, tossing my coat back to allow him to see my pistol once he got over the shock of the can exploding from his hand. "Hey man, let's go. She's nuts," he said, the others dispersing into the city.

With a sigh, I walked up to the church before breaking the lock chaining together the doors of the old church, slipping inside. It broke my heart to see the holy ground in such a state of neglect, dirty and dusty. I walked up to the alter, dusting off the statue of the Virgin Mary reverently before lighting the ceremonial candles.

I knelt down and took off my jacket, bowing my head.

"Forgive us Father, for we have sinned," I whispered.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. O holy Queen, mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope. Blessed art thou among women, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee, and for those who do not have recourse to thee. To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward us, and after this our exile, have pity on us poor sinners and welcome us back home. Remember, O gracious, that never was it known that any one who fled to thy protection, implored thy help or sought thy intercession, was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence, we fly unto thee, O Virgin of virgins my Mother; to thee do we come, before thee we stand, sinful and sorrowful; O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not our petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer me- answer us. Amen," I prayed.

I made the symbol of the cross and bent to kiss my rosary, a blinding light incapacitating me. The force of what seemed like an explosion tossed me back and my head slammed into the ground, spots dancing before my eyes. My vision went, becoming blurry as tears welled up in my eyes from the sharp pain. Heavy footsteps moved across the wooden floor and I sucked in a breath, fearful that I wasn't alone. After swiping at my eyes I looked up to see a man in shining armor, scrambling back across the floor away from the stranger in front of me.

"Saint Michael," I whispered.

He was tall, six-foot-three, six-foot-four easy. If his hair hadn't been cropped so close to his head, I would have sworn it was brown, not blond. It wasn't like I could go by biblical canon anymore; none of the descriptions or images in his likeness were anything close to his beauty. It was impossible not to know who he was, with the armor and the wings and the flaming sword to top it all off. "Lillith." And there it was again, that feeling of shame over something that I had never had any control over. In the presence of someone that I had prayed to, of someone who looked down upon my kind- that was, sinners- only made who I was seem that much worse.

I instantly cast my eyes as his crystal blue eyes fell on me, searching me.

"Stand," he ordered. I did as he said, unwilling to meet his gaze. "And look at me Lily Eden."

With eyes full of tears, I looked up at him, my breath coming in waves. Michael stroked my hair back and kissed my forehead. "You're even more… real than I had ever imagined you could be," he whispered, stepping back to stroke my cheek. I swallowed and he smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, I did not mean to make you hurt yourself."

"Oh!"

I reached up to touch the place where blood welled up from a tiny cut on the back of my head, the sting making me pull away. Michael moved to work his fingers through my hair and looked at me, inhaling deeply. "I have watched you for so long, waiting for the day in which I could come to you. And I have, because I chose you… but you must accept me."

"I will- I mean, I do," I replied, my voice wavering.

God, an angel smiling was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.