The Problem of Kyle

“Do you ever relax?” Gabriel asked.

Kyle sat cross-legged on the cold cement floor, weaving rings with determined hands. “This is relaxing.”



“No, that’s working.” Gabriel settled beside him, folded Kyle in the warmth of one of his massive wings.

“It’s mindless repetitive hand motions, which I find relaxing.”

“You never find anything relaxing.” Gabriel nudged Kyle with his shoulder. “You never even really sleep. You just...doze in this terrible state of half-drowsy half-wakefulness. One would think you were a great war soldier in a fox hole expecting the call to go over the top at any moment.”

“Should you be talking so much?” Kyle asked. “There could be Listeners outside.”

“Listeners are human and can’t hear through walls.” Gabriel sighed. “Look - just get some sleep. It’ll do both of us good if you don’t pass out on me in the middle of our next battle, whenever that may be.”

“That’s not an option.”



“Sleep is not an option?”

“No. The Fallen could come at any time.”

Gabriel rose to his feet, gestured at the crumbling walls glittering with the Alphabet. “No they can’t - nothing can get past your wards and you know it.”

“I’m not taking that risk.”

Gabriel knelt down in front of Kyle and shook him once, forcefully. “Look at me!”

Kyle lifted his head, startled, blue eyes wide. Gabriel shoved him toward one of the pews. “Sleep. I’ll stand guard.”

“I can’t --”

“Relax enough to fall asleep?”

“Yeah.” Kyle tugged his knees up to his chest.

“How did you fall asleep when you were a child?” Gabriel asked.

“My mother read me stories.”

“Oh. Well.” Gabriel cleared his throat. “I know a few stories.”

Kyle stared at him. Gabriel gestured for Kyle to lay down, so he did, curled up on one of the hard, uncomfortable pews.

“Once, in the Silver City,” Gabriel began.

Kyle closed his eyes and let Gabriel’s voice wash over him. Slowly, slowly, he felt himself begin to relax, lost in the cadence of words and syllables.