Fin.

My nose crinkled as the coppery smell of blood filled the already pungent air, mingling with the scents of several-week-old garbage and rotting food. I hissed softly simply out of reflex, bloodlust-fueled aggression, though I quickly yanked the reactions back down beneath the mask of neutrality. Of apathy. As if I didn't care that Cory was screaming her head off, clearly in the worst pain of her life. My ears pinned back flat against my skull and I forced myself to remain in the room, to keep my hands away from the incapable doctor's throat. Rather, I swept a few stray quills from Corinthia's face, muttering soothing words and gently wiping her brow.

I leave for about five months, I come back, and this happens.

Cory howled in agony, squeezing my hand to the point where I felt a flickering of worry for the safety of my limb.

Azrael was pleased with the news… but I was unsure what to think. Honestly, I didn't want the responsibility of caring for the child. He assured me that he would take the child from my custody, that I could have nothing to do with it if I liked. That it could become one of Azrael's dispensable soldiers and I would never have to see the thing again.

At the time, that was fine by me.

And yet, I didn't understand why… Why would Azrael want my kid?

I simply sighed and told myself that the whole ordeal would be over and done with in a matter of minutes. Apparently faster actually… the doctor shouted something and dropped a bloody mass in my hand that wasn't enclosed in Cory's slowly loosening hold.

"What?" I hissed back, bobbling it briefly before instinctively pressing the thing closer to my body, grip firm as Cory's hand slipped from mine.

"She's not breathing! Take care of her while I cut the cord!" The doctor half-screamed at me, veins bulging from his head in stress. He wheeled around, completely ignoring my cries of outrage. Slowly, I began to calm down and realize what he was referring to. I glanced down shortly at the thing he had plopped into my arms, then did a double-take.

The kid. A baby girl.

My ears slowly pinned back. The body was utterly limp, terribly fragile. Rendered useless, I could only stand there and hold the cadaver as emotion drained away from me.

She had my quills.

My chest swelled with empty weight; my perspective changed. This was my daughter… and… God…

I lowered my head in regret, clutching the child gingerly against me, wishing for life, for I could not pray.

As if God would answer the prayers of a Fallen Angel…

After peering up to Cory, I was nearly brought to my knees. Just seeing her cry in pain took a knife and rammed it through my stomach.

She moved.

My attention was immediately swung away from the mortals and onto the body held in my grip. Her legs twitched. Shocked, I contemplated the difference between the onset of rigor mortis and perhaps the breath of life, wondering if I could deny it. No, there it was again. Eyes wide and fixed on her, I adjusted my hold on the child, feeling my mouth mold itself around heartening words, urging her to live. Seconds later, she coughed. Thrilled, I carefully patted her back, hoping for something else, anything. She choked again, this time coughing up blood and amniotic fluid, then bursting into strident cries. I heaved a sigh in relief, looking up and wondering if my prayers had been answered…

Cory looked up from her mangled body, eyes coming to a rest on the pair of us just a few feet to her side. Though the glance was innocent enough, I felt the abrupt urge to protect, pulling the girl tighter to me. Perhaps Cory just needed some time to cool off before seeing the child… Stress-wracked, her baby blue eyes slid glacially across the room, critical in their gaze. She had never really seemed like the motherly type to me…

In a few deliberate, swift motions, I swept a blanket from the foot of the bed that Cory currently occupied, earning myself a distinct scowl from her, and wrapped it around the child, using one corner to wipe the hedgie's face of blood and mucus. She gave one last resounding wail before settling down, residing to a slightly pained whine-growl as she blindly and weakly flailed for some sort of comfort. Seeing no other option available, I pressed the baby to my chest, pulling a bit of my jacket over her in further effort to consol her. With one last look back at Cory, I ducked out of the tent and began to put a bit of distance between her and I, keeping my head high to discourage mortals from speaking with me. After all, I was still more important than them, right…?

"Mmmmm…" She let off a distressed noise, beating her tiny fists harmlessly against me, as if she'd heard my thoughts and disapproved. A few villagers glanced up towards me. I shushed the child as efficiently as I could, speeding up my walk until I passed out of the tent city and into the hills surrounding it.

Night had fallen, and the air was crisp, chilled as the heat had already left the premises. Careful to retain heat for the little bundle I held against me, I walked to the top of one of the hills as opposed to taking a short flight. Sighing heavily, I eased myself to the ground, allowing a moment of relaxation, my concerns going slack as I peered down and found that the child was still alive.

"…what to call you…" I removed her very briefly from my jacket, cradling her gingerly; uncertain of if I was doing so correctly. Disturbed, she whimpered a touch before settling back into tranquility, eyelids slit in order to become accustomed to the new lighting, for though there were very few light sources out here, it was certainly much brighter than her previous location. Blinking defiantly, eyes of electric azure locked on the sky beyond me, she outstretched her hands to the stars, struggling to remove one of the pinpricks of radiance from the ebon cradle of the heavens.

I couldn't give her up to Azrael. Not now. No... she had to be meant for more than his frontline...

A frustrated whine bit into the silence surrounding us; she had found that celestial bodies remained unattainable to Earth-bound creatures. Pitiless, this ultimatum applied to the Fallen as well as mortals. I gazed upward into the alpine heights, hunting for some sign of forgiveness for this delicate, glass-like child I held in my hands. The pulsars merely winked back, enigmatic. Little did I know, her fate had already been chosen, bathed in flame, carved in stone, and written in blood…

Death, in the form of Corinthia's bitter knife and psychotic reasoning, stole little Lucy's life only four days later.

This was not the end of her story.

This was only the beginning.

A/N: I know, not my best at all. However, this little bit has been gnawing on me for the past... nearly 6 months. I started it back in March, then left it to gather dust... Perseverance seemed to be my only option when it came to this... I didn't want to give up on it, for it was a story that needed to be told.

The narrator (Sam), Swift (aka "Lucy"), Corinthia, and Azrael are all (c) me.

You aren't meant to completely understand it if you've never heard of my series or my fancharacters. It's okay. R&R, bash me out, if you'd like. I'm not demanding it of you.

-Dark