A/N: I know Collins seems slightly OC in this, but it all gets worked out in the end. I promise!
Tom Collins came home late a Wednesday afternoon in August 1990, just to be met by his bouncing lover who had her dinner ready for him. He loved Angel more than words could possibly say, but when she was positive and he was pissed off, it didn't make him happier.
"Hi honey, how was work today?" she asked and kissed him gently on the cheek.
Fine, her kisses made him feel a little better. Collins took a deep breath. "Shitty as hell."
Angel sighed. "Wanna talk about it?"
- "No."
All she did was mouthing an 'OK', and telling him that she always was there if he changed his mind.
"I know, Ang," he replied, - "But if I wanna talk I have to talk to someone who understands."
Angel frowned a little.
"I have a job too, Collins," she said firmly, - "I might understand."
Collins took a deep breath again and said just as firmly. "Angel, listen well: I am a professor, you're a street drummer, how the hell can you relate to what I'm going through?"
Angel's eyes narrowed. In no way had she expected to be talked to this way and in no way did she attend to let him get away easily. She wanted to go out the door and get lost for a couple of hours, but she didn't. She just went up to the window sill and looked out.
Collins was seated in his couch, regarding his lover who was standing by the window sill. Suddenly a tear appeared on her cheek, and Collins realized that he maybe had gone too far. Before he could say he was sorry, Angel spoke: "I can't have an education, Collins," she whispered hoarsely, - "I was kicked out by a drunken father who used me as his personal punching bag."
Another tear. Collins rose up. "Angel, look, that's not what I meant…"
She shook her head and looked down. "I know what hard days at work is, Collins," she said, - "Every single fucking day I have people harassing me. Every. Day. That's the prize I have to pay for being who I am."
Collins took a few steps closer, leaning against the kitchen table close to where Angel stood. He reached out a hand to touch her arm, but she used the same arm to stroke her wig away from her eyes with. "And still, Collins," she said, - "I don't complain. Until now."
- "I know that, Angel, I…"
Then she finally looked at him, tears in her eyes. "Wanna know why, Collins?"
Collins looked down, wanting to say that hell no, he did not. He did not want to hear a sob story from Angel's life. Her life story appeared to be more than any therapist could handle, but he simply just nodded. "Go ahead, Angel."
"Because," she said coldly, - "Before I got to know you… Long before I got to know you, even before I got HIV infected, I had a worse way to make a living… I was a headliner at a drag club, every evening having ten men in line to fuck me in some random back alley. That was life for me. And nothing can be worse than that! You know… One day it went really bad."
Collins' eyes had widened, and he felt teary-eyed all of a sudden. Angel continued: "There were these two clients who weren't satisfied. Meant that I wasn't worth the money they had paid, so they came back for me when I was the last one left at the club, and decided to make their money worth."
Collins rose up again, and walked over to where Angel stood. He wrapped his arms carefully around her waist from behind, and kissed her neck. Fortunately, she didn't resist. She didn't push him away. She just stood there and caressed his hands. "Before I knew, I found myself under them while they raped me like two fucking animals…"
She broke down and Collins turned her around so he could face her. He kissed her lips softly and she leaned in on him, her body shaking with sobs. "They were twice as big as me, Collins," she whimpered, - "It hurt so much…"
Collins pulled her tighter. "I am sorry, Angel," he said softly, his voice was suddenly wavering, - "I am sorry I yelled at you, I am sorry I insulted you… And I am sorry you had to go through that."
Angel nodded. "I know," she said and kissed him gently, - "You are the best thing that could ever happen to me and I love you so much."
Collins rubbed her back gently. "I don't deserve you, "he said.
Angel smiled. "No," she said, - "You deserve someone so much better. I am only complaining about what happened to me in a very distant past. Now what happened to you today?"
Her voice was comforting, soft, and warm and her gentle touch of his cheek matched it.
"Really, Angel," he said, - "I don't remember anymore."
