"Shit, Hale, is that you?"

They were in a small alleyway littered with tin cans and plastic wrappers expelled from a nearby dumpster. An indescribable stench filled the air, intensified by the presence of moisture as rain cascaded from gloomy skies, saturating their ghostly forms. The girl was dressed completely in black, her arm outstretched, the semi-automatic pistol in her hand aimed at the head of the figure who'd just materialised. It was a boy, younger than her, and much worse for wear. Slashes adorned the blood-stained T-shirt that had once been plain white; a trail of blood ran down his face from a gash just above his right eye; and his weight was shifted to one leg. Clearly, he'd been in quite the fight.

"Mind pointing that thing elsewhere?" His tone was dismissive and his eyes were distant, as if only half aware of the potentially fatal weapon right in front of him.

"You scared me, is all," the girl replied, lowering the gun. "Hell, I was a millisecond away from shooting you!"

"Uh-huh."

"What happened to you?" The horror in her voice was evident as she took in the extent of his injuries. She stepped toward him and reached forward to touch the shirt almost fallen off his body—

A hand shot out to grab her own and she gasped at the swiftness of the move. The boy's gaze was suddenly on her face and as their eyes met she could see shear terror, agony reflected in those seas of blue. What had he seen? What had he experienced? This was not the boy she had first met. What had happened in the past year to change him so?

"I need your help."

And then she remembered why she hated him.

"No." She tugged away from his firm grip, and he released her instantly, stepping back.

"Why not?" His head tilted to one side, genuine bewilderment etched onto his beaten face.

Is he serious? "Why not?" she mimicked, the volume of her voice rising. "Because this"—she gestured emphatically around them—"is your fault. It's all yourfault."

"Actually—"

"No." She gave his chest a shove as she repeated the word with more force. He stumbled back, struggling against the pain of his injuries to stay upright. She almost felt sorry for the kid, but her anger at his presence and inconsiderate demand outweighed any sympathetic feelings she could muster up."You can't just drop this bombshell on me—all this shit about angels and demons and devils and whatever the hell else there is out there!—disappear for over a year, then suddenly come back expecting my help, no strings attached, no questions asked!"

He shook his head like a wet dog, drenched. "We don't have time..." He continued glancing all around in panic, struggling to see through the heavy downpour.

"We? There's no we. Okay?"

"They're tracking me. I don't know how, but—"

"Are you even listening to me?" She shouted, waving her gun in front of his face.

His eyes flickered to her momentarily. "Not really, no." Then, without looking, he jerked the weapon from her hand and threw it over his shoulder.

The girl was stunned. "Wha—"

"That was irritating."

Seeing the boy's slight smirk, she huffed and started walking away. She was almost out of the alley when his plea of "Just hear me out" reached her ears.

For the first time that night, she had his full attention.

Perhaps it was the heart-wrenching desperation in his voice; perhaps it was curiosity as to how he'd ended up in such a condition and what exactly he wanted from from her; perhaps it was those tortured eyes—Whatever the reason, she stopped. Refusing to turn back and face him, she called out into the night, "Why should I? I hardly know you. We're not friends."

"But our fathers were." He was much closer now, his uneven breathing audible. When she offered no response, he continued. "Comrades in arms, at the very least." A pause, and a step forward. "We're on the same side of a war. The losing side. But—"

"But what? If we work together, we can win?" She chuckled wryly.

"We can change it." More footsteps.

"How?"

He gave no reply, ignoring the question. Instead, he stepped around to stand in front of her, still bloody and bruised. He looked her straight in the eyes and with renewed determination told her, "We need to go."

She raised an eyebrow. There was no way she was going anyway with this kid, not before he told her what the hell they'd be doing. Still, she'd humour him. "Go where?"

A knowing smile slowly crossed his face. "Not where," he said, shaking his head. "When."

Before she could respond, a hand shot out to grip her shoulder, and with a flap of wings, the two were gone.

If you liked it, please review. I'm not sure whether to actually follow through with this, so a show of interest would be greatly appreciated.

Navybee :)