A/N: Hey! I've been wanting to write a story like this for some time now. I pulled inspiration from X-Men: Apocalypse and the comics to come up with a true origins to Warren's story. There aren't many stories out there on him and I want to change that. Please tell me what you think so far. I will be updating often as I can. I need to know how it reads. I've done some research on men and women in the '60s, their roles, lifestyles and I want to know how it comes off. I appreciate any comments you can give me. This will be a long story so expect the chapters to be 2-3k words in length. I'll try to include as much of Warren's real comic origin as I can, I'd really want to try my own story on how he became the Avenging Angel, before becoming Angel, then Archangel. This story will focus on the Avenging Angel arc, thank you for reading! :)

Fall 1964

Annette Arrington opened her locker soundlessly like she had many times before. She hated frowning when she came to college; this was a place where she felt she could escape everything else. For the longest time she wanted peace at home. It wasn't too long ago that her family was split apart due to the passing of her late mother, Evelyn Arrington, the former heiress to the nation's leading real estate empire. She was a saint if there ever was one. Annette wanted to emulate her in any way she could. She took out a still photo, the only picture she had of her mother and held it close to her chest as she closed her eyes.

Somehow she felt closer to her every time she did this. Each time she was interrupted by outside noises. She knew where they came from. Annette opened her eyes and spied Warren Worthington III waving to a small group of his friends in a crisp white polo shirt, khakis pants that hugged his slender athletic frame in all the proper dimensions. Everything about him screamed WASP. His wavy blond hair flopped over his eyes in a perfect swirl but yet his strong, full blue eyes stood out from afar. She looked longingly at him for another moment before reopening her locker to place the picture of her mother securely inside.

The fall weather broke in a windy mood to the setting. Upper New York was a place where hot coca and soft listening music by the fireside was almost a requirement. Annette loved partaking in simple regiments, even as small as curling up on her couch and watching the tips of the flames dance with each other as it crackled in the background like percussive beats to a natural rhythm.

Annette gathered the last of her text books and Mead college bound notebook she wrote her name in and stuffed them inside her small book bag. She swung the bag on her shoulder and took a moment to sit near the fountain to say a small prayer to herself.

"Lord, I don't know if you can hear me. I haven't spoken with you in ages. I hadn't been avoiding you, I feel lost once more. I was wondering if you could send me some guidance. I wish, I do want to know so many things." Annette paused, taking a breath as her eyes glazed over. "But I guess I will know when I'm ready. Please don't abandon me. Send me a sign that she's watching over me, that she isn't disappointed in me. I just want to be reassured..." Annette said as she looked down. "I have to be..."

"Are you alright my dear?" A familiar, kind voice asked her.

It was the librarian, Ms. Davidson. She took a seat near Annette observing her.

Annette gently smiled. "Yes, thank you Ms. Davidson."

"You look distressed, dear. Anything I could do to help?"

Annette moved her wispy brunette fringe from her eyes so she can see more clearly. She hid behind her hair, it was a habit she hadn't broken yet. She hesitated before confessing her true emotions to one of the few people she trusted. The truth was...

"No, I'll be OK; I appreciate you offering to help me. I always appreciate you caring for me."

She clutched her notebook to her chest sighing as Ms. Davidson stood up and softly patted her shoulder, saying her good-byes then turning to walk to the campus faculty parking lot.

Annette gathered what was left of her strength and made her way outside of campus to her car. Once inside she switched on the radio, listening to the sweet, solemn sounds of Motown tunes. She leaned against the steering wheeling and sighed, taking a moment to compose herself before turning on the ignition.

She jumped up startled as she placed her palm over her chest. She looked to her side and rolled down the window staring into Warren's electric blue eyes. She was lost for a moment before she nervously smiled as he leaned down holding something in his hand.

"Hello Annette, you dropped this where you were sitting." Warren pulled out an object and gestured to the Mead notebook she didn't realize she left behind. "I think you might need it back."

Annette took a moment to realize he was actually noticing her. Then she reached to grab the notebook gently off his hands, her fingers slightly brushing with his at the corners. "Thank you, Warren."

"Sure...I'll be seeing you around." He said, his masculine yet gentle voice sounding like a velvet stream.

He shared a small look with her before standing up to his 6'0" frame; Annette looked up at him as she watched him slowly leave with his back turned, taking long strides to the opposite direction.

She never got tired of watching him no matter what he did. To Annette, he was an Adonis of a man. Nothing ever came out it. She knew she was out of his league and never pursued him further. Truth be told, he had more options around him to consider. He wasn't a typical WASP though, just shared the appearance of one. There were rumors of course of his courtships with different girls from the University but Annette refused to believe everything was true.

Warren seemed like a private person despite his outgoing persona and demeanor. Annette longed to see what he was like behind closed doors. When he wasn't the all-American poster boy, she wanted to know more, maybe that was dangerous and against protocol for her position in society but she almost didn't care if she overstepped her place. Women her age weren't becoming scholars or dreaming of having careers of their own. They were housewives, devoted caretakers, mothers, if they did work it was mainly limited and at home, just in time to make dinner and maintain cleanliness to the home.

Women in the 1960s bore a different kind of responsibility that wasn't too often talked about or explored, yet many people knew its rules and standards. It was barely questioned and when it was, you were labeled viciously as an outsider. Annette didn't feel far from that comparison. She'd always felt like someone born outside the norm. She'd kill for the confidence many girls her age had growing up. Who knows what kind of stature she would have had if she just believed in herself a little more.

She was a curious person, always asking questions. Why this? Why that? Her nose permanently stuck on the question mark of life as a whole. She wanted to know more, always. People made her curious, their life stories. Truth be told, she had kept to herself so she could just watch and observe what life was like through random perspectives. Rarely didn't she seek anyone out since everyone was interesting in their own way.

Warren was a case all on its own. She wanted to know him. Ever since she first saw him on campus that day classes began. Even if he was out of her reach, she wanted to pretend he would give her the time of day. Every time he spoke to her directly she thought it might mean they would grow closer together, maybe as friends, who knows, maybe something she didn't think possible with anybody. It wouldn't be hard not to love Warren, he is attractive to look at, sensual, friendly, Annette also had the feeling that he genuinely cared about people even if his cool and collected mask gave him an otherwise overtly outgoing personality. It was a feeling she had whenever she watched him.

She restarted her car and finally pulled out of the parking lot, not looking back. Her emotions were steady, possibly because of Warren, even if it was a brief conversation, it still counted to her overall calmness. Driving back home was unpredictable. Her father was almost shell of a person since her mother passed away. Sometimes barely acknowledging that she was in the room. She was also worried his drinking may be making him more irritable than usual. He was always a big drinker and smoker, but now, those days are becoming small in comparison to who he is now. Despite everything she still comforted him since he wasn't person to show him emotions easily. She watched him, like she would anybody who needed to be taken care of. Annette put it upon herself to make sure her father wasn't completely breaking down; although recently on two occasions it looked like it was going in that direction.

She pulled her car into one of the spaces of the four car garage underground of the estate she lived in. She sighed before getting out and making her way toward the front entrance and foyer. She had heard the television on in the family room, turned up on a special news report. She knew her father was there, sitting idly in his favorite brown recliner swirling his ice cubed Scotch in his strong hand. As predictability would have it, he was laying in the corner of the room, mid-swirl, stopping as Annette came into the room.

"Hello father, how are you?" Annette asked him in a small voice.

When he didn't answer she came forward to began a new question.

"Are you cold—"

"Annette, stop it. Stop pretending like she is still here. I get enough of it from your Aunt..." Edward Arrington stood up briskly from his recliner, rubbing his salt and pepper hair and his face as he turned around to refill his glass.

Annette treaded very carefully. Thankfully her father was never physical with her but he had a strong temper and she didn't want to be within the crossfire of it. She rubbed her shoulders as she placed her book bag down and went to close the wide opened window from the brash weather attempting to chill the room. New York weather was bordering on bitterly cold; Annette wanted to help make it better in some way, even in the smallest of ways.

But her father sometimes wouldn't make it easy for her. Despite his personal mishaps he had everything else in control; the business was building toward a great legacy, one that he could feel proud to leave behind for his child, the one he barely acknowledged nowadays. Edward wasn't always this distant and cold. His temper was tamed with Evelyn by his side. There were many moments where in Annette's fondest memories he would be an amazing caretaker, he was a provider, someone who worked hard and believed in stark values to progress one's livelihood. But those days were growing further away as time went on. She held him as a high influence one upon a time.

Annette knew she was doing a poor job of trying to make things right and she realized no matter what she did it was never going to be good enough around her father. The common sense hit her between the eyes every time she thought he was going to relent and give life one more chance. Being around him made her sometimes feel suicidal. She took a deep breath before closing the curtains, watching the rain pour down the pavement as it begun splashing against the window. She turned on the lamps and slowly but surely made her way to the kitchen.

The cooks were idly making a meal over the stove that was simmering. The smells were hitting Annette's nose but she tried not to be too affected by how good it felt that they were blessed to have the maids still service them. Annette grew up with them and felt they were very much part of her family just as much as her bloodline was. She shared a small look with one of the maids and nodded knowingly. They had seen that look before and knew what it had signaled.

Annette stepped away before she could feel herself intervene once more. She felt compelled to care for her father in any way he needed. Of all of people affected from Evelyn's passing, Edward took her death the worst among her immediate family. She watched as Beverly, the main housekeeper tended to Edward stumbling toward his recliner seat. He fussed when she offered to take the full glass from his stubborn hands and speak to him with a soft tone. The sad moments were when Annette watched as her father was trying not letting his emotions get the better of him. Seeing her father, seeing a male cry was rare, she wondered if it was a generation aspect. Men were taught to keep their true emotions in and act as if everything was under control. This didn't bode well for her father. He was a compassionate and caring man; he was full of emotion that he showed from time to time, especially when Evelyn was still alive.

"I set him to bed, Miss Annette." Beverly said behind her.

Annette turned around, almost startled at the expression her housekeeper had. She held her chest with her palm and then smoothed strains of her hair behind her ear.

"Thank you, Beverly...for everything." She walked slowly to Beverly as the elderly woman pulled her inside for an embrace.

She kissed her forehead gently as Annette tried to compose herself, her emotions on edge whenever her father brought up her mother.

They pulled away for Annette to look up the staircase, knowing her father was more or less asleep in the master bedroom. She cleared her throat soundlessly.

"I know you worry for him my dear. We all do. At times he doesn't listen to me anymore. I have to believe it gets better from here on." Beverly's slight British accent cracking at the corners of her words.

Annette sighed deeply. "I know. Mother would want that. I wish he could know that, I just wish there was something I could—"

"Sweetheart, you've done more than you know. Don't worry, he will come around. He just needs to stop blaming himself for her passing."

Annette nodded, moving to walk upstairs when she heard Beverly call her name. "Yes?"

"Did you have a good day at your schooling?"

Annette's mind immediately went to Warren but her answer covered her real feelings.

"I did, thank you. I feel very blessed. I said a prayer outside of campus, made me feel...calm." She said softly, recalling the prayer she spoke.

"Did anything else happen? You have a smile on your face."

Annette touched her face before she smiled smiling. "Oh, well, nothing to really talk about. Except—"

"What my dear?"

"You know that boy I was telling you about earlier? Of Worthington Corporations? His family is rich in stocks and economic practices. They do business with Fred Trump."

"The real estate mogul? Worthington, oh yes, I know the name quite well. What happened?"

Annette blushed, "Warren, their heir, their son, well—he spoke to me today."

Beverly's smile reached her eyes as her hand came over Annette's resting atop the newel post on the bottom of the staircase. "That's wonderful my dear."

"It is but...I don't know, I'd really like to get to know him better but he has so many people around him. He could get any girl, talk to them, most of the time he does."

"Oh well, you should be careful then sweetheart."

Annette sighed as she nodded. "You're probably right. I'm going to my room to study. Let me know if you need me to do anything."

It wasn't unlike Annette to say that. She's been known to help around the house when Beverly has had her hands full, especially with her father.

But Beverly paid her no mind, shaking her head gently. "No worries, my dear, all is taken care of. Go on, go relax. I'm sure you've had a long day."

Annette found the grandfather clock that loudly ticked to chime half passed seven. She didn't realize the time had gone by so quickly in the Fall. That meant shorter days, Annette remembered to count day light savings time when it came around.

She hugged Beverly as she kissed Annette's forehead. She walked up the stairs and placed her bag down near her study desk. She turned around and looked at herself in the mirror. She wasn't wearing makeup but it wouldn't matter. She'd still look the same. Makeup is supposed to make you look beautiful. Hair products. Annette would see all kinds of adverts on television and she thought if she bought all those things guys at school would look her way. It turns out, it wasn't that easy.

She sighed within herself, took off her clothes and stepped slowly into the scolding hot shower she needed. After stepping out she changed into her night gown, getting ready for bed. She mostly studied on her bed and sometimes would fall asleep in the middle of her assignments.

Gathering her books and paper assignments together she sat down on top of her neatly made bed, slipping off her soft slippers, sitting Indian style.

A knock made her attention stop for a moment as she stared up into the eyes of her father. He looked tired and worn, eyes looking like they had better days to them. They used to be a bold blue-green, now they feel soft and vulnerable. Annette pressed her lips together as her father gently opened the door to read her face. It was rare when he did this, when he would she only listened and watched him as he slowly came to his senses.

"I don't like hurting you Annette. If I never say it I want you to know how sorry I am. I can't bare the Fall without her, I hope you understand me. I don't want to lose you too. I can't..." He trailed off, coming into her room as Annette made room for him to sit on the edge of the bed.

"She used to make everything so special; it's hard for me to live with her passing. I wish I can make the feeling go away. I do believe she is watching over us, sending prayers, guarding us from the world. She was doing this when she was alive, maybe she is doing this from above."

Annette watched her father break down with his face in his hands, looking to be holding back tears. She slowly moved to comfort him, rubbing his back as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Edward returned the embrace, leaning his chin over his daughter's shoulder in thought. He wanted to be rid of those moments of "what if" and "what could he have done" to prevent her passing.

"I'm sorry Dad. I love you, I'm so sorry. If there is anything I can—"

He pulled away gently, taking her face in his hands. "Don't worry about me. Promise me, Annette?"

"Yes," she nodded reluctantly as they pulled away, Edward taking his time to stand up. She looked at him wondering if a simple motion like standing up was too much for him. She touched his shoulder and instantly he smiled softly, straightening his posture as he turned to the door not before looking back at her.

"Goodnight darling, sweet dreams." He said, without another word, closing the door as Annette contemplated his behavior.

She rubbed her hands together, warming them slightly as she made her way to the soaked window. The rain was coming down mighty hard and she gazed outside as thunder and lightning tore into the atmosphere. She wiped the fog to see better, feeling a strange rush run through her body, wondering if her worrying helped her father or she was making it worse. He seemed to bury the emotions quickly just now. All she can think of was she wanted him to have peace.

She went to close the curtains and noticed a shadow in the large oak trees near her room. She focused on the image only to see what looked like eagle wings spread in pure flight, a bird? Maybe...Annette was mesmerized until the figure flew far out of sight, away from her clear vision.