5. Cassius

It was raining again, which suited Cass's mood just fine.

He stood at the counter in the shop, which was blessedly empty. Steph and a few part-timers had opened up this morning, and he'd come in late and sent them all home an hour ago, assuring them he'd be fine until the after-work crew came on. He was glad for a little peace and quiet, and the smell of coffee and baked pastries was comforting, even if sometimes he felt like he was sweating baked goods from his pores after working in the shop all day.

He needed the comfort right now, and the quiet.

He'd left the… Soul? Ghost? Astral being? Well, whatever it was, he had left it with Aunt Ro. He couldn't think at home, with all that misery and doom everywhere. You got used to it after awhile, but it was still disconcerting, and it made Cass listless and weary.

He knew he needed to think, so he'd come to the shop. His mood had improved as soon as he'd left the house, but a few hours later and he was no closer to understanding any of it, which was troubling. Cass was not used to being unsure or confused. He usually saw things quite clearly, but this was beyond his knowledge. Aunt Ro had no ideas either, saying she had never seen such a thing before.

Afterlifers had five options. Well, most did, anyway. The underworld, or hell, wasn't usually an option—it was more of a mandate. Still, he knew there were some tricks to getting around it for those who were borderline hell-bound. Obviously they weren't going upstairs, or to heaven, which was an option for many souls.

There was Limbo, where quite a few souls took up residence while they made their final decision on afterlife placement. Limbo wasn't meant to be a permanent residence, but he knew some souls treated it that way.

Then there were the two other paths for afterlifers—reincarnation and ghosthood. This was where, sometimes, a borderline hell-bound soul could skirt the system and choose one of those options. Reincarnation was of course a more permanent decision, and Cass hoped those souls changed their ways enough to not get sent to the underworld.

Ghosthood, however, like Limbo, was meant to be temporary. It was a way for souls to work through trauma or unfinished business, or even just to keep an eye on loved ones until they too passed on. Cass had dealt with a hell-bound ghost once in his lifetime, and it was one time too many. It had been extremely unpleasant, and he'd eventually sent the soul on against its will. If it had been borderline hell-bound before ghosthood, it definitely deserved it after a few years as a ghost. The man had been petty, vengeful, and cruel, and he'd used his ghosthood to continue those traits.

The point was, however, that afterlifers chose to be ghosts, and they were capable of making that decision. The soul in his house was barely even a complete being, and he had no idea how that could happen. It was also dark, which is why he kept thinking of the underworld, even if he kept seeing glimpses of light amongst the darkness. But there was no way for a soul to choose ghosthood from hell. It simply wasn't possible. Those in the underworld stayed in the underworld.

So what could fragment and injure a ghost so thoroughly? Cass had no idea. It defied everything he knew about the universe, and Cass knew quite a bit thanks to his abilities and the teachings of those who came before him.

His rambling thoughts were interrupted by the bell on the door, and he looked up to see the gray angel—Kushiel, the angel had said—walk into the shop.

Well, finally.

Cass stood up and waited. He didn't want to muck this up a second time.

"Uh, hello. Cass?" Kushiel asked nervously.

"Yup," Cass replied, smiling. His smile slipped, though, when he thought about things. Could this angel have something to do with the damaged soul? Could he be responsible for its state of incompleteness?

If so, Cass didn't think he could help the angel, no matter what the messenger of god had told him. Anything that could hurt a being like that… Cass couldn't abide cruelty.

But then he looked again, and gray or not, the angel shined inside, bright as ever, those gold tendrils swirling inside him around a core of such light that Cass had to look away for a moment.

Kushiel faltered in his walk to the counter, and Cass realized he had been scowling. Shit. The two of them just seemed destined for awkward meetings, because now the angel seemed frozen in indecision.

"Can I help you with something?" Cass asked, softening his face.

"Umm… perhaps?" Kushiel replied unsurely.

He looked kind of like a kicked puppy, and Cass sighed. This was partly his fault, he knew it, and he felt like an ass. Not that his little human scowl should be enough to make any angel or demon nervous, especially if they were unaware of his gifts, but he had clearly made Kushiel feel very unsure of himself.

Cass knew he was super powerful, but he also knew he looked young and "cute" with his shorter stature, his messy hair, and his freckles. He liked being underestimated. It made it easier for people to talk to him, and in his line of business (both at the coffee shop and in his other role), he needed to be approachable.

He came out from behind the counter and noticed that Kushiel tucked his wings in closely, almost defensively, as Cass walked by him to the door. He turned the lock and flipped the sign to closed, then turned around, unsure how to proceed with a skittish angel.

He motioned to a table off to the side, and Kushiel went and sat, and Cass followed, being sure to give him space since he was obviously somewhat leery of Cass.

They sat for a moment before Kushiel said, "You called me angel."

Cass couldn't help smiling. "I did. I didn't realize until my shop manager came out how it all sounded a bit like a pick up line. But that isn't what I meant. I do know what you are."

Kushiel looked up at him then, almost like he expected Cass to say something. He waited another moment, then he asked, "You are not surprised by my appearance?"

Ah, he must have gone full angel on Cass. Oops. Cass didn't like to let afterlifers know he saw them in their true forms, so he just shrugged in response, replying, "I've seen lots of angels and demons, so no, you don't surprise me."

Kushiel looked surprised again, and a little bit of the kicked puppy look left his face. Cass did remember then that he was a gray angel, which he had never seen before. Perhaps Kushiel was used to a more extreme reaction for that. Angels were a bit of a stuffy bunch, and he couldn't imagine being the odd man out with that crew.

"You are, I think, someone who is supposed to help me. Or perhaps you will know someone who can help me," Kushiel said unsurely.

Cass looked at him. How much to share? He was used to hiding his abilities, not putting them out there. Still, this angel was so hesitant that they'd never get anywhere if they danced around each other.

"Gabriel showed up about a week ago and told me I'd help a gray angel with something. He didn't specify what, exactly, so yes, I'm apparently the one to help you, although I have no idea what exactly I'm helping you with. You know how Gabriel can be, I'm sure," Cass said, rolling his eyes with the last statement.

Kushiel chuckled, the unease slipping off him like it had never been there. The smiling, flirty angel who had first walked into his shop was back. Somehow Cass thought the unsure, hesitant persona was more accurate, but he would let Kushiel have his mask. After all, Cass wasn't everything he seemed, either.

"Yes, I do know how Gabriel's messages can go. I apologize for misinterpreting our first meeting. I am Kushiel, Rigid One of God, Angel of Punishment, and I need your help," Kushiel stated.

Well fuck, an angel of punishment. Cass couldn't help his frown, although he tried not to jump to conclusions. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if Kushiel was somehow responsible for the state of the soul in his house.

"What can I help an Angel of Punishment with?" Cass asked, and he knew his voice held a level of coldness.

Kushiel didn't seem surprised. In fact, he seemed to have been expecting Cass's disdain, which didn't sit well either.

This whole thing was already sideways and upside down and fucked up, and Cass knew he wasn't helping.

"Souls have been taken from hell. They are missing. I have been tasked with finding them. A seer told me to look here and that someone would assist me. I am sorry you have been tasked with that assistance," Kushiel replied, his face neutral.

"Taken from hell?" Cass asked. "That shouldn't be possible. Souls cannot leave hell."

Kushiel hummed in response, raising his hand and making a see-saw motion with it. "Technically, they can. If they are redeemed enough, if the light inside them grows bright enough, they can find redemption and be reborn to try again. It is rare, but it does happen. However, I am the only being who can help such souls. They reside on the Mountain of Erebus in hell. A week ago, when I went to the mountain, it was empty. That should not be possible. Souls cannot leave hell of their own accord, and there is no one else who should have the capability to move them from that place."

Cass sensed a depth of sadness in Kushiel when he talked of the empty mountain. Still, he had to ask.

"What do you do with the souls in Mount Erebus?" he asked.

"They are fragments of what they once were—most do not even remember why they are in hell—but there is light within them. I try to grow that light. I help them pay the price necessary for redemption. It is a different process for every soul, but I have seen souls redeemed over the eons, and there is nothing greater than knowing that a soul who suffered in hell will have a new chance." Kushiel smiled at the thought. "I often go to see the babies those souls reincarnated into. It is beautiful to see that second chance."

Cass stared at him. Kushiel was radiant when he smiled, but it was quickly replaced by a frown.

"Someone took them. Someone took them, and now they cannot be redeemed. I must find them," Kushiel insisted, looking at Cass in desperation. "Will you help me?"

"Of course I will," Cass replied. "Come with me."