when he once had wings
A/N: I’ve given up on finding titles that make sense and are cool. also!! thanks to @pheonix-inside for reading this over and also @aztec-cryomancer for requesting this. thanks y’all
Warnings: it’s a whole load of angst i guess. also kinda past logicality? and logan’s a bit of a dick :/ also arguing, cursing, fire, demon!logan and angel!patton, uh let me know if i missed something!
wc: 1.6 k
AO3
summary: When Logan fell from god's grace, his heart burned along with his wings. Patton refuses to believe so.
Logan remembered his life previous to the fall, unlike many demons.
He remembered. He remembered so much and so well that sometimes he wondered if he was still walking among humans, feeling the ground beneath his feet. A ground that was cold and hard and solid and not scorching and unforgiving.
A time where he didn’t have the weight of scars on his back. A time where he could run in the fields, hand in hand with the one person he loved most, Patton.
But he couldn’t. He didn’t love anymore. And he would never again.
His heart had been burned and had torn apart like his wings as he fell from heaven’s grace down and down and down until all he could see was darkness. He had thought he’d die, again. It would’ve hurt less. So much less.
And so, Logan didn’t love anymore. He turned stone cold and heartless, burned from the inside out and with sharp features that weren’t meant to be caressed tenderly as they would’ve been once, but to cut whoever came too close.
He moved up in the ranks, decided that if they wanted to make him a devil, then he’d be one. He worked, cheated and bought his way to the top, to be the right hand man to the devil himself.
He mirrored what he had once been, back in a time when he still had wings, and he still could fly. In a time he and Patton had been happy and together and dead as much as they had been alive.
He didn’t think. He didn’t anymore, since the fall. He had let anger and resentment take over, all the times he had been right but he had had to push down his pride and carry on, for the sole purpose of remaining in grace. He had given up on making everyone equal, on having to back down on things he had every right to be angry about. He was done with anger-free thinking.
There was one person who made him think sometimes, however. One person that could take away the blinding hatred of the world that he had been so accustomed to. That he had decided was the only thing that he could keep, that he should keep.
It was Patton, because of course it was, because he was the one who had stayed by his side in his worst moments, when he cried and when he screamed. And logan had done the same.
And now, as the sun came down on the horizon, Logan, the demon, an incarnation of evil, was waiting for Patton, an angel, his angel, leaning on the railing of the porch of the house that had once been theirs. A house that had once been filled with laughs and smiles and life, that now stood abandoned, broken down and left to rot.
He waited, and waited, and waited. He was good at waiting for him, and only for him, otherwise his patience ran short easily.
Eventually, the door to the porch opened with a creak and footsteps came up beside him, just as if they were still human. Like they were once, years ago.
“Logan,” Patton greeted him, smiling. “It’s nice to see you again.”
Logan turned to him. “You too, Patton. It’s been-”
“Three years.” Logan nodded. They had been almost caught the last time they had met up, and they had refused to take the risk again. Eventually, even beings without a heart fall to it’s desire.
Logan stared out at the endless fields that extended before them. Patton stared at Logan’s bare back with a conflicted expression.
Tentatively, he reached out with his hand, and brushed his fingers over the scars. It burned slightly, and he retracted his hand, hissing.
Logan looked at him from the corner of his eye. “We talked about this, Patton.”
The other didn’t respond, opting to stare at the horizon with him. The sky seemed to go on forever, and from where they were watching, they felt like they were on top of everything. To Patton, it looked like it did once, back when he and Logan didn’t meet up in secret, but instead would go out for daily walks and look at the horizon over the drop. They’d talk, and talk and talk, leaving no space for silence.
Now things were different, though.
The angel sighed. “I remember it.”
Logan shot him a look. “What?”
“The Fall. Your fall.”
Logan sneered. “Of course. Every angel remembers it, they made a whole fucking event out of it.”
“It’s the fall of an angel, it’s a big event itself.”
“I sat at Gabriel’s fucking side, and they let me fall for what? Asking questions?” Logan made a fist with his hand, trying to control his anger, he could feel his nails digging into his palm, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about a lot of things anymore.
“You questioned Him, Logan, not the high council.” Patton wanted to place a hand on his shoulder, wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to make him realize that he knew it wasn’t right, that he understood his frustration, that he was on his side. He wanted to tell him all of that. He didn’t, he couldn’t. “It’s the worst thing an angel can do.”
“I only stood by my morals,” I know, he wanted to shout, I know, and I’m with you. Logan straightened, looking more rigid and cold, despite burning to the touch. “If they aren’t willing to change rules that were written thousands of years ago,” His eyes were far away, from what Patton could tell. “Then I don't think they should be in power.”
Patton stared at him. He felt something arise in him, something he didn’t want and didn’t need but couldn’t rid himself of. “You want to put Hell in charge?” The demon didn’t respond, only set his jaw. “Logan?”
“I’ve… talked about it, down there.” He smiled, not sweetly like Patton had once been able to see frequently, but sharply and demonically. “They love me down there, you know, Patton.” The landscape shiften momentarily around them into a world that was all flames and fire, before turning back to normal. “They love me like they never did up there.”
“Logan,” the angel said, and Logan turned to face him. He looked exactly like what you’d expect an angel would look like, with smooth skin and curvy features and a smattering of freckles across it, and blonde curls that framed his face perfectly. It was a harsh difference to his tall and lean form, with dark, dark hair and sharp angles.
He had once been lovely like Patton. Once, when he still had wings.
“I love you, I always have.” Logan stared at him. He stared straight at the angel, his angel.
A demon was not a being that could receive love, that could be loved in the first place. A demon was the complete opposite of love. And yet, there stood Patton, a being, an angel, who had infinite love to give to everyone, everything, all of the universe.
If angels could love everything, why would they hate the damned?
Patton didn’t know. He didn’t know what Logan had become, what he had done, everyone and everything he had left behind to become the powerful being he now was.
Everything he was with Patton was a memory, a distant unfocused memory of something he wasn’t anymore, of something he could only pretend to be.
He knew now, that what he was right then, when he was with Patton, talking to him, talking to an angel, was not what he was. He was merely deceiving himself.
And by being something he wasn’t, Patton loved him.
“And I will continue to do so, Logan.” Patton stared at him, with so much love and trust and honesty. He even extended his hand, hoping Logan would take it.
Hoping for what? That Logan’s essence, being would change because of love, something he wasn’t able to comprehend? Hoping that Logan’s wings would grow back, that his halo would return, placed around his neck? Hoping for something that would never happen?
Logan knew hoping did more harm than good.
“No, you don’t,” Patton’s eyes went wide. Logan raised his chin, making him look imponent, powerful, against someone of low tier like him.
“Logan-”
“And you never will.” That’s when Patton realized that Logan’s tail was slashing on the floor, in frustration. He met Logan’s eyes again to find them black and red.
Like the day of the fall.
“Logan please-” flames started to lick at the edge of the porch, slowly growing closer.
“I’m sorry Patton, but it’s true. And don’t you love the truth?” the fire was around them, now, and it shone in Logan’s eyes, cold and uncaring.
He wasn’t like Patton remembered, full of life. He used to sing and dance among the other angels. He’d take care of the gardens and look over the fields, and they’d sit on the porch, watching the sunset whispering ‘i love you’ to each other.
But that wasn’t their life anymore.
“I do but-”
“Then stop lying!” Logan yelled. He stood there, then, eyes glowing with something Patton didn’t want to see.
Hatred.
His mind was half panicking about the rapidly advancing fire around him, but the rest of him wanted to yell, to scream, to speak, to say something.
But he didn’t.
He just stood there, watching as Logan turned around and walked into the flames, disappearing.
The fire suddenly died down, leaving it’s scorch marks behind.
He didn’t do anything, he just stood there, looking at the spot where Logan had disappeared, his eyes glossed over.
Then, abruptly, he turned around, and walked back into the house, where he had come from.
Logan was right. He didn’t love him.
And he never would.