Authors Note: Hey, I live in New Zealand and we haven's had Season 6 yet. So I don't know about the alliance Cruz and Faith formed or her realtonship with Santigo (spelling) I just know that Bosco got shot and is now in hospital.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.

Fallen Angel

Chapter 1

Fallen Tears

Sometimes it's not as easy as it looks. Sometimes I just want to stop. To turn around and look back. But I can't. I won't. I can't turn around. I won't look back. I have too many pains. Too many memories. Most are bad. Some are good. People say I push them away. Do you think I enjoy pushing people away? I don't. I never will. But pushing people away is what I do best. First my sister and now him. But I was just using him. Playing with his mind. I never loved him. At least that's what I keep telling myself. He didn't love me. No one could ever love me. I am who I am and no one can ever change that. I'm strong, I stand up for what I believe in. Some would say those are good qualities. What would you do if you grew up like I did? Thinking that everyone hated you and if you wanted to get anywhere you had to push. I don't need anyone. At least that's what I keep telling everyone. So I pushed and I'll keep on pushing till I get to the top. Apparently it's safe up there. Sometimes I just wish he would save me. Take me away from everything, from everyone. But why would he want me back? I treated him like dirt. Then his brother, that was all my fault. But it wasn't, it wasn't my fault. Who am I kidding? I'm selfish. I only think about myself. Well, that would be the definition.

"Are you going to vist him?" Monroe asked me.

I blinked. Pretended that I didn't hear that. But I did. I just didn't have an answer.

"Come on Cruz, it's the least you can do," She told me.

I blinked again. My eyebrows narrowed and I glared at her, "The least I can do? I haven't done anything!" Well that was a lie if I've ever heard one.

She sighed,"Cruz, you know I didn't mean it like that."

Of course I knew she didn't mean it like that. How could Monroe ever say something wrong? I gulped back my words as I stared into space. She doesn't know that I respect her. I could never say anything bad about her. She was the only one who was there for me when I was...I got...God, how strong am I? I can't even say the words. Sometimes I wonder if he had known sooner, would he of been there for me too? He let me beat the shit out of the guy though. Not that I really hurt him. I could of. I don't know why I didn't kill him. Then and there. He deserved it. But does anyone really deserve to die? To be locked up, but to die?

"So, are you?" Monroe asked me. Avoiding eye contact.

I lowered my gaze to the ground,"Like he would want me there."

Her eyes darted across the table. What could she say? She knew I was right.

"Cruz, sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do." She told me.

I rolled my eyes. Like I hadn't heard that one before.

"So are we still on for coffee?" She asked me.

My gaze met her's and I smiled. I hardly ever smile and she knew that. Ever since the...incident we've been going out for coffee. Kind of like a regular event. Every Tuesday. I suppose some would call us friends. I don't. I don't want to jinx it. I'm not good at keeping friends. I wonder how long this one will last. I'm used to having no friends. Some would say I'm a loner but no one would ever dare say that to my face. I don't care what other people think of me. I'm like the grey ceiling of the earth. Waiting for the sun to take me away.

"I suppose so," I answered as I twiddled a strand of my dark hair around my fingers.

She smiled,"Well, I'll see you later then," She told me as she got up and left the room.

I sat there for awhile. Drowning in my thoughts. I'm not as bad as they say I am. Really. People think I'm cold. That I have no feelings. I do have feelings. Sometimes, I wish I didn't.
I slowly stood up and grabbed my jacket from my locker. I pressed my fingers against the cold metal and closed my eyes. Just for a moment. Sudden foosteps came into the room. I turned around, hand on my gun. Ready for anything.

Faith.

Except for that.

I took my fingers away from my gun. She hadn't noticed. I'm glad she didn't. I nodded towards her and she nodded back. I could tell she had been crying. Not in the mood to argue. Not in the mood for anything. I was going to ask if she was allright. I swear that thought past my mind. Do something nice for a change, but I thought better of it. I followed her gaze to the locker that once belonged to him. My gaze soon ended on the floor.

"How is he?" I asked.

I was prepared for a scream.I was prepared for anything. Verbal abuse pushing me to the floor. But she didn't. She just blinked.

"He will be allright."

I nodded. That's all I did. But inside I was relieved. All the blood. I just didn't think he would make it. Not everyone does.

The unnerving silence was soon interuppted by a tear that fell to the the floor. I looked away from her. I absolutely hated when people felt sorry for me. But I couldn't help feeling sorry for her. I made my way right past her. Ignoring the heavy sobs that fell from her lips. I didn't look back. I never do.

I walked home that day. Watching the sun play hide and seek with the clouds. Watching the leaves dance around the trees. I would never admit I enjoyed these things.

I opened the door to my apartment and went to my phone. No one had called. I don't know why I bother.

I sat down at my table and closed my eyes. I would do anything to turn back time. Tell him I'm sorry. Tell him I did love him. There, I said it. I was in love with Maurice Boscorelli. But it was just hormones. It couldn't of been anything real.

A gust of wind flew in through my open window. Bits of paper flew everywhere. But only one caught my eye. It was a picture of him. I held it in my hands until it became wet. Tears flooded down my cheeks and I screamed. I just screamed. I kept screaming until I had to stop. But I don't stop. I will never stop. What else can I do? I hate myself for what I've done to him. I hate hating myself. I loved him. I still do. Can I be forgiven? Will he forgive me? Will anyone forgive me? I can't help what I've done. I can't help hurting people. How did I end up like this? How did we end up like this? I stopped screaming but the tears kept falling from my eyes. I once swore to myself that I would never cry. I can't cry. I won't. But I am. I'm crying now. Stupid emotional hormones. I hate myself for what I've done. I can't make it right again. It was never right. I fall every time. The sooner I get back up the sooner I fall again. I keep on sinking deeper and no ones there to lift me back up again. No one knows what it's like. Everyone just hates me. No one really knows me. No one ever will.

I opened up my umbrella. My only protection from the falling rain. I ran towards the cafe in the corner. My favourite cafe. I wandered over to where a grinning Monroe sat. She was happy. I didn't blame her.

"Guess what I did today." She told me.

I shook my head. I absolutely hate guessing games.

"I visted Bosco."

The guilt lay before me and I blinked, "Oh."

"Is that all you can say?" She asked.

I blinked,"So what did he say?" I asked.

She grinned,"You mean, what he say about you?" She told me. I didn't answer. She didn't need me too,"He asked if you made it through okay."

I paused. Just for a moment,"What did you tell him?"

"That you would tell him yourself when you visted tomorrow."

My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets,"You what!" I yelled.

She started laughing,"Calm down I was joking. I told him you were fine. The only one whose not shaken up."

"What he he say?" I asked.

She smiled,"Well he laughed and said, that's the Cruz I know."

"So he's not angry with me?" I asked.

She frowned,"Why would he be angry with you?"

My eyebrows narrowed but I didn't say a word.

"Is that why you haven't visted him? Because you think he's angry with you."

I lowered my gaze. No one would understand.