Work Text:
Supernova’s lungs burn, fire burning through his body in bursts that feel like stars exploding, and all Supernova can do is laugh
Laugh in the face of the God who left him behind, laugh in the face of those who had piled so much upon him to keep control, laugh at everything that had tried to keep him from this moment, hurtling towards the Earth, Halo splintering and cracking, but the wind rushing past hides the sound, and all Supernova can hear is laughter.
Because they thought he was perfect.
Their little perfect thing, their wonderful perfect angel, who had never broken a rule in his life, had spent his entire eternity waiting on them hand and foot, and they had given the privilege of keeping the race of angels going
And Supernova had
Supernova had revealed everything in one fell swoop, every interaction he had with Killer, every stolen moment in the night that Supernova thought of with so much fondness and love, every single kiss they shared before Supernova had to go back to his human for the day, every time the angels called Supernova up to praise him for how wonderfully perfect he was, only for Supernova to go back down to Earth and curl up in the arms of a demon, an angel killer.
Of Supernova taking that wonderful perfect privilege that they had handed to him, and had used it up with a demon, of all people, a demon that had killed them before, and Supernova laughed, louder and brighter, a laugh that he could never use in the pure perfect white of heaven, the perfection shown in every insecure movement of each terrified angel.
And he was so fucking free
He was wonderfully free and safe from the hell of heaven, and fall towards the heaven of hell, into the arms of Killer and hopefully Bloodguilt, the purity that he fled sliding off of him with each second down, down, down into the new safety, the wonderful imperfection of the life in hell that called so loudly for Supernova to cling to it.
And he laughed.
Because they had called him perfect.