A/N: as I promised, here's an Angel centric oneshot. I hope you'll like it ;)

Collins once asked me what my real name was, how I got called Angel at the end and how I got my HIV. I told him that it's a long story, and turned to the wall. It's a very long story indeed.

It's started about twenty years ago, when I was three years old. I was a very average boy, until my sister was born. Little Lolita, sweet Lolita. I literally fell in love with her at the first moment we met.

I was told that everybody thought that I spend too much time with a baby for a boy. My mother just smiled at these comments.

'She'll have an overprotective big bro, that's all.' She said all the time. She was quite happy about my behavior.

The years went by, and Lolita and I became closer and closer. She started to walk, speak and play – with dolls. I have never liked play with boys' toys. God, I've never even liked playing with boys. So, instead of befriend with boys in my age, I spent my time with my sister's friends. My parents didn't like it that much.

When I was seven, we had a talk about it. By then, I had given away all of my cars superhero-figures and other stuffs like that, and played only with Lolita's toys. I even asked for a Barbie-doll for Christmas. My parents were terrified.

'It isn't normal' my mother said. 'Why don't you play with the other boys?'

'I don't like them. They're rude.' I answered.

'You don't even know them! You don't even talk to them!' my father bellowed. He was angry because his only son didn't behave the way he wanted to. I remember I was scared.

'And it is a problem that I play with the girls?' I asked from my mum.

'No, it's not a problem…' she hugged me 'It's just… weird, sweetie. Just weird'

From that day, I started to try act "normal". I spent my time with boys, started to play football, and play the drums. I thought that it was mannish enough. And I found out very quickly, that I have talent for it. My parents were pleased; I even enjoyed it a little so I didn't stop playing.

So, I was an average, eleven year old boy, but I wasn't quite happy. I would practice four- or five hours a day, just to avoid my "friends". I was friendly, when they were around, but I didn't enjoy their company. But I was overjoyed when Lolita's friends came over.

I tried to be normal; I even flipped through the pages of a porn magazine which one of buddies stole from his older brother's drawer. I found it disgusting, but tried to deny it. Then one night changed everything.

My parents went out, and I was babysitting my eight year old sister. It started smoothly enough: we played board games and told each other funny stories. I loved to make her laugh. She was beautiful, anyway. She was quite short for her age, had long, curly, dark brown hair, big, brown eyes with heavy eyelids, and amazingly beautiful smile.

So, we were laughing one of my stories, if I remember well, when she suddenly said.

'I've got an idea'

'What?'

'Y'know… now, that mummy and daddy are out… we could… well… sneak into their room, and' she leaned closer and whispered to my ear 'try out mum's stuff. Just think of it! Heals, jewelries and make up!' she was so excited.

This was a very strange thing about her, anyway. She was always thinking about me as her equal partner, as one of her girl friends. And I liked it. Almost as much as I liked her idea.

So we did it: we tried on my mother's clothes, put on her shoes, and used her make up. We laughed a lot. And that was the time when I realized that I should have born as a girl.

From that night, we repeated this "show" as many times as we could. Every time, as soon as my parents leave the house – which happened more and more often – we sneaked into their room. And as Lolita became older, she got her own stuffs.

She saw that I was a little jealous. She knew that I wanted to be a woman. And, to be frank, she was the only one, who could accept this. And she wanted to make me happy.

So, when I turned sixteen, she gave me my first wig. It was so similar to her hair: long and curly.

'I-I don't how could I say thank you for it' I managed to say after she gave me my present.

'I know' she smiled, putting the wig on head. 'Come with me this Saturday to my classmate's. He is hosting a party. It would be fun. But' she added 'You shouldn't come as my brother.'

'What?' I asked. At first, I couldn't figure out what the hell she wanted.

'I mean, you should come as my sister' she grinned.

'No, no. It wouldn't work' I protested. 'Everybody would laugh at me. Everybody would laugh at you! No way.'

'Silly' she shook her head. 'Haven't you learned yet what we can do together? I can do your makeup in a way that no-one could recognize that you're a boy, and you can act the way only a woman could.'

The part of the truth is that Lolita's life goal was becoming a professional makeup artist. Not just working in a small beauty parlor, but work with big movie companies, doing the actors and actresses makeup and masks. And she was very talented in it indeed.

'Well… for my precious little sister…' I started.

'Please. Pretty please!' She looked at me with puppy dog eyes.

'OK. You got me. We can do it. We can give it a try' she literally threw herself into my arms.

'Thank you! You're the best sister ever!' her statement surprised me a little.

'Sister?' I asked back.

'Yeah' she nodded 'You know, it doesn't matter that you're living in a boy's body – you're a girl inside' she smiled.

'And is it ok for you?'

'Of course! Which other girl could say that she has a big bro and a great sister – no! The best sister in the world! – in one person?' she exclaimed.

'I couldn't ask for a better little sis, either.' I said, with watery eyes.

Managing our plan was a little tricky. We told our parents that I am going only to take care of Lolita. Have an eye on her, watching, if she drinks any alcohol, get rid of the boys who are flirting with her and take her home by eleven o'clock – that was my work. Until this point, it was easy. But my transfiguration was a little harder.

Lolita had a quite big handbag: we decided to put the makeup products into it (Yes mum, I'll need all of them at the party!), while I took my woman clothes (Lolita's T-shirt and jeans with heals) and my new wig in my satchel. My father wanted to drive us to the party – but we insisted to take a bus. We had a reason: we stopped by a public toilet, where I changed and Lolita put my makeup on.

The party was one of the best times of my life. Well, a few people looked at me in a strange way, but no-one recognized that I wasn't a woman. I even flirted with a guy. And, for the first time in my life, I didn't feel like a stranger in my own body. I stopped being a boy – but it wasn't the time when I became Angel. At first I was introduced as Carmen – that was my favorite name back then.

Anyway, I don't remember well what happened at that party. I only know that I danced, talked with guys, and scolded Lolita because I saw her drinking alcohol. But I think that the glass which I saw wasn't her first. But I didn't really care. Finally, we left the party about half an hour after eleven, and got home after midnight. We got a month worth house arrest after this incident, but it didn't bother us. We repeated this little play as soon as we can leave the house. And we did it two or three times in a month afterwards for almost three years.

Once we almost get caught: my father was working, and mum was sick. We thought that she was sleeping, so we started to prepare for the actual party at home. We were in the middle of it, when mum got up, to have a drink in the kitchen. She heard our giggles, and came into our room without knocking. When she saw my half-made makeup she squealed a little in surprise. But Lolita saved the situation.

'Easy mum, I'm only practicing. And since you can't model me now, I asked him' she could lie into our mother's eyes without she'd recognize it.

'But aren't you going to some kind of party?'

'Yes we are. But it will only start almost three hours later!' she smiled, and mum believed her. Well, she was always the favorite.

But back to the original storyline. So, we did it smoothly for a while. But one day everything changed.

I had just turned nineteen, and Lolita wasn't even sixteen. I had a month to go until my high school graduation, and she was seeing a man. Who was at least seven years older than her. As I've already said, she was a really beautiful girl. Sorry, woman. But, to be frank, if I remember well, she said him she'd been eighteen. But it doesn't matter.

I'd talked to her about it. I told her that that man is too old for her. That he only using her. But it didn't work. She was in love. And let me tell you, I was the only one who knew about Nathaniel.

So, this was the situation. And then Lolita got an idea.

'Y'know what?' she asked me one night 'Nat invited me to the Solar Club this Saturday. You could come along. It'd be fun.' The Solar Club was the coolest place in our town. Everybody – who was over eighteen – and meant something used to enjoy themselves there. There was always much alcohol, cigarettes, even drugs, a few said.

'I don't think it's such a good idea' I told her 'It's not the best place for you…'

'Oh, c'mon! Nothing bad will happen! I won't drink more than I'd at any other place! Please!' She looked at me with her usual puppy dog eyes, and I broke down.

'OK, you won. When do you meet him?' It was the worst decision in my life.

Well, the first part of the party was really good. Nathaniel had a buddy in the club, so he could get in us, without any trouble. He was a very handsome man anyway, I had to admit this. Unruly, light brown locks, green eyes, strong jaw-line, tall, muscular body, cool tattoos. Every girl's dream. But he was acting a little strange, which I couldn't understand. And to be exact, I couldn't trust him either. But I didn't really care. I soon found out that there was some gay man in the club, too. So, I started flirting.

It was about eleven o'clock when I realized that something wasn't OK. I couldn't see Lolita anywhere. I said goodbye to my "partner" and started looking for her. She wasn't in the club, it became obvious after a few minutes of searching. So I went outside, hoping I could find her there. It'd happened already a few times that she didn't feel well in the crowded room and went out for a little fresh air. As soon as step out the door, I heard someone screaming. I recognized the voice immediately.

It was Lolita.

I started to run towards her. I even fell to the floor when I reached the corner of the building. I remember that I felt pain in my palm, but I couldn't care less. For God's sake, my sister was in danger!

I reached a small alley behind the club. There was she. With Nathaniel.

He was kissing her roughly, touching her places, where I'm sure normally he wasn't allowed to. Lolita was protesting, she tried to push him away, but she couldn't. She was so small, and he was so strong. He tried to tear her blouse off of her. They obviously didn't recognize that I was there. And I just stood there, unable to move. Thinking back, I'm ashamed of my behavior.

'Nathaniel, leave me alone!' she managed to say.

'Shut up, you whore!' he slapped her face. Lolita fell to the floor. That was the time when I get enough. I started to run towards Nathaniel, who was approaching my sister again. Before she could touch her, I grabbed his arm with one arm, and punched his face with another. I felt as his nose broke, and see the blood streaming from it. I'd never fought before in my life, and Nathaniel was much stronger than me, but I had the power of the surprise. I hit him again and again, and he defended himself, striking back.

'Lolita, run! Bring help!' I shouted to my sister. She stood there transfixed with horror. 'Run!' I said again, as I hit that jerk on his face. She finally got it, and started to run.

We continued to fight, but I was relieved, because I knew my sister was in safe.

I don't know well what happened next. I only remember that Lolita came back a few minutes later with two chucker-outs, who grabbed Nathaniel, and called for the police. After that I'd maybe passed out, because I only remember the fuss after the incident: ambulance drivers, policemen and other people all around. I sat with Lolita at the back door of the ambulance, covered with an old blanket, her head on my shoulder, sobbing lightly. Her face turned nasty purple where that scum hit her, but otherwise she seemed OK. But I felt pain everywhere in my body; my face, hands, arms, stomach. Everywhere he hit me.

'Thank you.' I heard Lolita muttering. 'You're my savior. You're my Angel.'

Then I saw him lead away by two policemen. His face was covered with blood, and he looked rather sour. I could understand that. At that time, I thought that everything turned out right. I was so wrong.

After about a half and hour our parents arrived. Mum was rather worried than angry, but my father…

'You little ungrateful offal!' he shouted at me. I still had some makeup and my skirt on, not to mention the wig.

'Dad, leave him alone!' Lolita protested from my mother's arms. 'She… he just wanted to help! I was looking for trouble, not he! Blame me, not him!'

'Shut up!' Lolita buried her head into mum's shoulder. 'She, right? What do you think about yourself, son? How do you look? What's this rag on you?!' he bellowed, grabbing my wig. He ripped it off of my head, threw it to the mud, and trapped on it. I felt tears in my eyes.

'Dad, you can't understand…' I tried to say, but he slapped me. Lolita squealed. My face burned up.

'Don't even dare to talk to me! I'm ashamed of you! You're the reproach to our family!' he spitted at me. 'You aren't my son. I don't wanna see you again, get it?' he said as he turned his back to me and walked away with my sister and mother. That was the last time I saw them.

But the worst part of it came after this.

I was wandering around the place just after this incident, half awake, when I heard the policemen talking. At first I just wanted to go away, but then I heard that they were talking about my sister.

'That little girl had good luck. Look at what've found. It was in the attacker's wallet.'

'What's it?' I couldn't see them, so I was glad that the policeman asked his mate.

'A HIV antibody test report.' He said 'It's positive. Just think about it what could've happened if that… boy wouldn't had been there…' I'd heard enough. I looked down at my hand; it was covered with his blood.

I went into the club's toilet to wash my hands. I held them for over ten minutes under the water, but it couldn't wash away the open scar from my palm. A piece of glass or a sharp stone must've scratched it when I fell off to the ground. I didn't know what to do; I started to cry in frustration.

I don't remember how I got home, but it was almost dawn by the time I stepped into my room. I packed my stuff, all things I found necessary, and wrote a note for Lolita. I told her that I love her, and I'll miss her. That I'll never forget her, and I have to go. I asked her not to look for trouble, and take care of herself. I told her to stay at our parents' and not to search for me.

I found her in her room. She was fast asleep, her pillow wet from tears. I placed the letter on her desk, and kissed her forehead.

Then I left my – no, their – house, for good.

I ended up in New York two weeks later. I found a cheap sublet, and started to play on the street. And I went to a clinic to test myself for HIV.

A while later, in my flat, sitting on my bed, clutching my positive test report, I was crying. Crying for my lost family, my lost life, my lost hopes. But I was crying in relief, too. Because it wasn't my little sister who was sitting in a dusty, old room, in an unknown city, crying over her death note.

Yes, I was happy. In a way.

A/N let me tell you, I almost cried when I wrote this. Plese, click on that little purple-blue button down if you liked it. It would mean so much to me. Virtual kisses and hugs until next time :)