Disclaimer (a statement made to save one's own ass): These are not my characters, though I wish I were a good enough writer as Kevin Smith so I could create some nearly as well as he does. The lyrics aren't mine either. They belong to Gwen Stefani, Eric Stefani, and Tony Kanal, of No Doubt.

Warning: This contains slashy elements. If boy/boy stuff annoys or offends you, then don't read this. You've been warned…

Feedback: Feel free to comment, flame, whatever. This is my first submission to , though, so be gentle!


Sappy pathetic little me
That was the man I used to be
You had me on my knees

When we were exiled, I pleaded for Her to only punish me. I fell to me knees, begging, saying it wasn't Bartleby's fault, though I knew it was. He was the reason I quit. He lectured me about theses humans, asking me whether or not it was right for me to be doing what I did to them. He said murder in the name of God was the worst thing you could do: the ultimate contradiction. Stupidly, I agreed with him, since I was so drunk and so utterly smitten I could have agreed with anything he said that night. Yet still, I begged. I said he didn't deserve it; it was entirely my fault. She insisted we be together for eternity, however. Was this some sort of sign?

I'd trade you places any day
I'd never thought you could be that way
But you looked like me on Sunday

Last night in the garage fucking scared me. He's changed. That wasn't my Bartleby saying those things, it couldn't have been. My Bartleby loves humans: he's even said so himself. I always used to wish I could be more like him. I can't stand the little whiny meat puppets, all I can ever see is their sins, their moral flaws.

You came in with the breeze
On Sunday morning
You sure have changed since yesterday
Without any warning
I thought I knew you
I thought I knew you
I thought I knew you well, so well

His eyes are different somehow, glazed with evil of some sort. Those eyes, oh how I loved those eyes. Those soft, deep, brown pools, so observant of everything around him. The caring look they got when he called me a "simple creature," as he often did whenever I fucked up. It was a look of love, I knew. That was exactly what he said to me, exactly how he looked centuries before, when we had first kissed. Now his eyes are furious pools of rage. He's even turned on me. I felt so fucking betrayed last night, that my Bartleby had changed right under my nose, without me even noticing. I miss that look.

You're trying my shoes on for a change
They look so good but fit so strange
Out of fashion, so I can complain

Now he's the one judging, the one killing, and I'm the one watching him. It's a complete fucking role reversal. Who would've guessed? Wait, God must have known this was going to happen, being omnipotent and all. Why didn't She separate us a thousand years ago, like I had asked Her to? Then none of this would have happened.

You know, looking up at him now, I'm thinking. I really don't know if I can love him when he's like this…

Oh, who am I kidding, anyway? He's my fucking soul mate; I'll always love him!

You came in with the breeze
On Sunday morning
You sure have changed since yesterday
Without any warning
I thought I knew you
I thought I knew you
I thought I knew you well, so well

You'd think after spending millennia with someone, you'd know when they were about to snap, don't you? The words flowing from those lips, that mouth, the one I know all too well, were so horrible, so fucking scary. Again, I question whether this is the same angel I fell in live with so many years ago…

I know who I am, but who are you?
You're not looking like you used to
You're on the other side of the mirror
So nothing's quite as clear
Thank you for turning on the lights
Thank you, now you're the parasite
I didn't think you had it in you
And you're looking like I used to

The urge to smite never left me, as his urge to watch humans never left him. But now he's changed. Now the watching is my job, the killing his. Suddenly, I'm the rational one, the sane one. How didn't I see this happening? It was just so fucking sudden. I mean, just yesterday, I killed six sinners, as Bartleby sat outside. If it weren't for my "hard-on for smiting," as he'd called it, we'd have gotten bus tickets, and this whole fiasco would be over. It was that train ride that set him off, I bet. Well, way to go, Loki, now we're in even deeper shit than we were before!

You came in with the breeze
On Sunday morning
You sure have changed since yesterday
Without any warning
I thought I knew you
I thought I knew you
I thought I knew you well…

The knife plunges into my side. I look into his eyes for a brief moment before I fall into his arms one last time. They are so stiff, so cold. It's as if he doesn't even realize who he's killing, like I'm just some regular human, not Loki, not his best friend, not his lover, just a fucking human. How could he fucking DO this to me? I thought he loved me! I thought I loved him…

Oh well