The Girl And The Angel
The atmosphere in the camp is tense. Tenser than usual.
Obi and his best men have moved out to greet two strangers that have been sighted to approach the camp, and although no information leaked, the rifles and protective gear spoke volumes.
Whoever those visitors are, they are a threat.
Brandon's knuckle turn white as his grip on his own gun tightens. He's not important enough to be part of the group to move out, so he waits with the rest of the soldiers on the yard for them to come back.
It isn't long before shouting can be heard, followed by the sound of gunshots. Sweat trickles down his brow. His eyes scan the surrounding trees, but in the dim evening light, the forest is in shadows and nothing can be seen.
When the group finally comes back, forming a circle around the strangers with their riffles pointed at them, Brandon is surprised for a moment.
The first thing he spots is a young girl, invisible behind her guards until they move to the side and widen the circle, as the group reaches the yard.
For all the fear and tension that is in the air, Brandon would've expected something more intimidating. She's a little, skinny slip of a thing, with dark hair and pale skin. She's quite cute actually, but certainly not dangerous. Brandon releases a breath, but somehow his muscles don't relax. If she were as harmless, the men wouldn't handle her with so much caution.
Behind them, the majority of the soldiers are circling a man, who is tall enough to stick out of the crowd. He is so surrounded by men in protective gears and riffles, that only his head can be seen. Raven black hair, sharp, extraordinarily handsome features, and deep blue eyes, hard and focused.
He is certainly more of a threat than the girl, but there is no way that a single man requires a small army of heavily armed men to be kept in check.
Then, the men spread out around him as well, positioning themselves around the two newbies in a wide, strategic circle, and Brandon sees the reason for their behavior.
Huge dark wings loom out behind the man, slightly spread away from his body, casting the ground behind them in shadows. But these are no ordinary angel wings. There are no feathers, but instead, a leathery skin stretched over thin bones, like bat wings. It only makes the man – who is no man, after all – look more hellish.
Horror rolls through Brandon in waves. What is that thing? He looks like the devil himself. Brandon thinks he must be a demon.
Obi steps forward into the circle, a grim expression on his face. "What are you doing here?"
He addresses the girl. His eyes and tone of voice suggest that he's familiar with her. As if they have history.
The girl speaks up. "We didn't come here to harm you. We are no threat to you or your people."
Obi's eyes slide to the demon behind her. "I recognize you now. It was you back then, too. We let you live in this camp. Told you our plans."
The demon folds his wings against his back. Now, he looks almost like a regular man, if it wasn't for the cold look in his eyes. There are riffles pointed at him, ready to shoot, and he's not even afraid. That's not natural. Not human. "I did not tell the angels anything. Although it wouldn't matter now, anyway. You wanted to show up on their radars and now you do, after the attack on the old aery."
Brandon heard of that. He wasn't part of the camp when the first attack happened, but it is one of the most talked things about in this camp. There is no way he could've not known about it.
"Why should I believe you?" Obi's voice is hard and cold. He looks back at the girl, who squares her shoulders. "You could be spies for all I know."
"I am human, Obi. Do you really think I would betray my own people?"
A bulky soldier by the name Boden steps into the circle, his face red with rage. "Yes, we do! You spread your legs for one of those bastards, so why not sell your own people to them, too?" He looks at the demon. "You think taking your whore with you will make us trust you?"
The girl doesn't react, her eyes still locked on Obi, but Brandon notices the way that her entire body tenses, muscles pulling taunt.
"Enough," Obi says quietly, but with enough command in his voice to make Boden shut up. He turns to the girl again. "What do you want?"
Her dark eyes dart around the camp. "Can we talk in private?"
Boden spits out a barking laugh. "Are you trying to whore yourself out of this?"
The girl's patience snaps. "Call me that one more time and I will make sure that you will eat your next meal through a straw. Don't you remember the last time you picked a fight with me?"
Boden's face turns the color of a lobster and a vein throbs on his temple.
"Penryn," the demon speaks up warningly, annoyance lacing his voice. The girl ignores him, so she doesn't catch the disapproving look the demon gives her. Brandon wonders what they are to each other. Apart from him addressing her just now, they didn't really interact since they came into camp, and the demon doesn't seem particularly fond of her. Maybe she really is just his whore.
"I don't think you are in a position to make demands, Penryn," Obi says. Now he's using her name as well. There is enough familiarity in the name rolling off his lips to tell Brandon that he said it before. They know each other.
"The only reason you are still alive is because I haven't given the order to execute you yet. You brought the enemy into our base and now you are making demands."
"Come on, Obi, cut the soldier crap for a moment. You know I wouldn't betray my people. And I didn't bring the enemy into this camp."
"He certainly isn't a friend."
"I admit, he can be a bit of a party pooper, but he's actually not that bad." She attempts a lighter tone, but it falls flat. The demon rolls his eyes.
Obi's eyes are hard. "I think you are underestimating the precariousness of the situation, Penryn. This is not something to make fun of."
"I agree," the demon speaks up. Although he seems to be talking to Obi, his disapproving eyes rest on the girl, his tone a clear warning. "The situation should not be taken too lightly." He sounds like a parent scolding their kid.
The girl shoots him an annoyed glance, as if to tell him not to interfere with her business.
"That's enough," Boden snarls. "These intruders are a risk for us all." He lifts his riffle, looking ready to shoot.
"Hold your fire," Obi yells. "No one shoots without my command."
Some soldiers throw him incredulous looks, but no one disobeys. But Boden isn't finished.
"Fine. If we don't shoot them, we should arrest them right now." He swings his riffle back onto his back and approaches the girl, reaching out to grab her upper arm. Judging by the comment from the girl earlier, and the protruding vein on Boden's forehead, it seems that these two have history as well.
The girl balls her fists and bends her knees slightly, as if ready to get into fight position, but she is clearly reluctant to get drastic with numerous guns pointed at her. Boden uses her moment of hesitation to twist her arm behind her back, nearly making her double over with the brute force of his grip. A gasp of pain issues from the girl.
All reserve and boredom falls from the demon. Within the blink of an eye, his wings burst open, razor sharp scythes snapping from the tips, muscles rippling visibly as he launches into attack mode.
"Hands off her!" he bellows, charging at Boden and the girl. The soldiers in his way grip their riffles tighter, clearly waiting for an order to shoot, but the demon pays them no mind, shoving them out of his way to get to the girl.
He grabs Boden and yanks him off of her, throwing him to the ground angrily. For all his annoyance and scolding with the girl before, there is nothing left of it now. He seems furious, his fists clenching as he steps in front of her, his body hiding her completely from Boden, who jumps back up and points his riffle at the demon.
"Enough!" Obi's voice has lost its calm. He yanks the gun out of Boden's hand and shoves him backwards, putting distance between the demon and the soldier. "I said hold your fire. If you cannot follow commands, you are clearly not capable of handling the responsibility of carrying a gun."
He turns around to the demon, who has pulled the girl against his side, shielding her with one of his wings. There is still anger in his eyes, but as they flicker towards her, they soften with something that, if he were human, Brandon would have called concern.
"Penryn?" he asks the girl quietly.
"I'm alright," she breathes out. She cradles her arm against her chest, but seems otherwise ready for another fight, her eyes darting around the growing crowd in assessment. The remaining soldiers still point their guns at her, as does Brandon, who simply does what his comrades do.
"Guns down," the demon yells, his wing drawing tighter around the girl. "If anyone harms her, it will be the last thing they ever do in their life."
Brandon's hands feel slippery around his gun. He does not doubt the demon's words. Judging by the rage in those blue eyes, he would make true of his words.
"You don't call the shots here," Obi says, but motions for his soldiers to lower their weapons. He seems to think for a moment. "Perhaps you were right about talking in private. Let's not escalade the situation more than it already is."
He looks around the crowd at those words, reminding all of the camp inhabitants that he's addressing them as much as the intruders. Then, he turns back to the demon and the girl.
"Follow me. We will check her arm and then we will talk. Anyone else, get back to work!"
He leads the intruders across the yard, to the school building where his office is. Brandon's eyes stay glued on the strange couple the entire time. Though the immediate threat seems over for now, he can't keep his heart from hammering against his chest like a sledgehammer. That was the most frightening situation he's ever been in.
And still. Despite the violence and rage in the demon's eyes, a different expression keeps popping up in Brandon's head. It was there for just a fleeting moment, before it turned into wrath, but at the girl's gasp of pain, it had been there. Fear. Just for a blink of an eye. It does not fit in with the image of the merciless, heartless killer that he thought the demon to be. And from the way he talked about the other angels, Brandon starts to think that he might not be a demon at all. He seems to belong to them.
Brandon turns away from the crowd and slowly goes back to his patrol, replaying the scene in his head over and over again He doesn't know much about this particular demon - or angel - but one thing he is sure of. He isn't heartless. No matter how annoyed he might've seemed before, he cares about that girl.
Hours later, they emerge together, grim faced and silent. Obi comes first, then the petit girl and lastly the demon – err, angel - a hand on the small of the girl's back. It's not a very possessive gesture, but somehow, Brandon still gets the notion that there is a hidden message in there. The way the angel looks around conveys a statement. She's his and under his protection.
Obi gestures at a group of soldiers, and Brandon realizes with some shock that he is amongst them. Unsure whether or not he is included, he looks around. A half dozen soldiers around him move up to Obi and the intruders, and Brandon quickly picks up with them, not wanting to seem like a coward.
The soldiers follow Obi and the intruders into the main building, where they are led into a class room. It's a small English class room, that holds no tables or chairs, but no cots either.
"Please sit," Obi gestures to the broad window sills. The girl sits down, and although the sill isn't too wide, the angel sits down beside her, spreading his wings halfway. Despite his almost surreal beauty, there is something raw and intimidating about him, accentuated by the huge, deadly looking wings. Brandon is frightened on the inside, though he tries not to show it, and he searches the girl for any signs of fear. She is small and slight, and seems so even more next to the tall and powerful angel. He looks like he could snap her with the flick of his wrist.
But she doesn't seem scared. If anything, she inches slightly closer to him, their thighs brushing.
"When was the last time you ate something, Penryn?" Obi asks the girl. She looks at him with big, pretty eyes in her small pixie face.
"Depends on what you classify as food. Cat food? Yesterday. A real meal? Over a week."
"Hmm." Obi leans against the teacher's table. "I'm not sure if I can provide you with food. We have agreed on you staying here until our side of the deal is done, but that doesn't include food. You have information about the enemy. That is definitely worth a good meal."
Next to the girl, the angel growls. All eyes go to him, and fingers tighten around guns. "She doesn't know anything, at all. What kind of bastard lets an innocent, little girl starve in front of his eyes? She's half dead from exhaustion and weak from starvation. I don't care what you do to me, but give her food and water."
The girl looks mildly annoyed. "I'm not weak from starvation. Just because I'm small doesn't mean I'm helpless." There is enough conviction in her voice to have Brandon believe her.
Obi pushes of the desk. He nods to two of his men. "Get some soup and water for our guests. A piece of bread, too. Doc, have a look at her arm."
A man, who came with them, nods and approaches the girl with less fear than Brandon expected. He, too, seems as if he is familiar with her.
Who is that girl?
Her face tightens with fury as she sees the doctor. "I see you made it out alive. What a surprise."
The angel glances between the girl and the doctor. "Who is he?"
"He's the doctor from Alcatraz I told you about."
"I see I'm a popular man," Doc laughs, but he sounds uneasy as the angel locks his furious eyes on him. "Hold out your arm, please."
The Doc crouches in front of the girl and takes her arm in his hand, wriggling her hand, then her forearm. The girl winces. The angel tenses next to her.
"Hmm, alright, does that hurt? Can you tell me where it hurts most and how bad the pain is? No understatements."
The girl points to her wrist, where a dark bruise in the form of fingers is already forming. "It hurts there. But not too much. But my shoulder hurts pretty badly. I think he dislocated it or something."
The doctor nods and examines her shoulder. He moves her arm around and a small yelp of pain escapes the girl.
Anger and concern flash in the angel's eyes. He glares at Doc, who seems to catch the fury in his eyes. His Adam's apple bobs nervously. "I'll have to relocate it. It's going to hurt, but it has to be done. It'll heal much more painlessly afterwards."
Brandon can tell that the angel doesn't like that news. He looks at his companion, who doesn't seem nearly as bothered with that information as he. "Okay, do it. But do it quick," she says dryly.
The doc pulls an apologizing face, but his eyes are cold and unsympathetic. "I'm sorry, I can't promise that. Locating shoulder sockets is no small business. I'll try to be quick, but you don't want me to rush it."
"Just do it," the angel growls.
The doctor nods. He scoots closer to the girl and places her hand on his shoulder, then grabs her forearm. He squeezes her shoulder, moving it the slightest way, and the girl's face tightens.
Brandon doesn't know much about medicine, so he has no idea if Doc is doing a good job, but after about a minute, a crunching noise is heard and he pulls away. "Okay, there you go."
The girl nods and rolls her shoulder back and forth. She didn't make a noise the entire time, but her lower lip is red from biting. The angel beside her is grim-faced and pale, his muscles taut. "Better?" he asks her.
She nods. "It hurts less now."
He nods and tucks hair back from her face, before letting his hand fall away. It could be the lightning, but the girl's cheeks seem slightly pink.
The door opens and two men come in, carrying bowls of soup and a bottle of water. The girl and the angel both eye the bowls with equally hungry expressions, but the angel still offers his bread to the girl.
"You need more food than I do, Raffe," she says to him.
"I need it for strength, you need it to survive. I'm not having you starve in front of my eyes."
She actually laughs at that. "I'm not going to starve, you know that. Now shut up and eat your food."
He sighs and tears the bread in two, putting the bigger half on her plate. She rolls her eyes, but a smile is tugging on her lips. The angel finishes his meal in record time, unfazed by the hostile eyes watching. When he's done, he leans back and crosses his arms.
Obi looks at them. "I think there is a lot we have to discuss. But it's late and those discussions are best done with a clear head, so I suggest you stay here for the night and rest."
As if on cue, the door opens and a couple of soldiers carry in two mattresses. One of them has a blanket thrown over his shoulder.
"You will not leave this room without supervision. If you need to use the bathroom, one of the soldiers is going to escort you there and back. We will have guards in front of the doors and the windows the entire night."
Obi turns to the soldiers. "I put up a shift plan. It's in the headquarters. Stanson you are on the first shift."
A burly, redhaired men to Brandon's right nods and grips his rifle harder.
"The rest of you, get some sleep. Come here five minutes before your shift starts. This room is to not be unguarded at any times. Understood?"
The soldiers nod. "Yes, sir."
With one last look to the two intruders, Brandon turns around and follows the rest of the men.
Brandon's shift is up. It's the second one, from 11pm to 1pm, and he's glad that he can get the rest of the night to sleep. He'd hate to have the 3 or 5 am shift.
Stanson stands with his back to the door, looking relieved to be finally off duty. They nod at each other as Stanson passes Brandon.
The door to the classroom has a small, dirty window, and light falls through it. Their guests are probably still awake. Brandon hesitates, not wanting the intruders to see him watching them, but his curiosity is too big to be ignored. He sneaks a glance into the room.
The girl is sitting on a mattress, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, while the angel is gazing outside through the window, his wings folded neatly.
"Do you see anything?" The girl asks. Her voice is muffled through the door but audible.
"Nothing unusual," the angel responds. He turns away from the window and walks up to her, sitting down on the mattress beside her. "I should have gone alone."
"They would have shot you on sight."
"You're already hurt. I swear, if that monkey ever lays a hand on you again, I'll punch his face in."
He reaches out and draws the blanket tighter around her small form. She inches closer to him. "It's not that bad."
"Yes, it is. You're in pain right now, aren't you?"
The girl looks cautious, as if she's unsure what to tell him. "A little bit," she says softly.
The angel catches the girl's chin in his hand and gently turns her head to him. "I just want you to be safe," he says quietly. His thumb is slowly stroking her cheek.
Brandon leans closer to the window, in spite of himself. He's come to hate angels and everything associated with them, but he can't help but be fascinated by the connection between this creature of blood and violence, and this petit girl, who seems so unafraid of the predator right in front of her. Not that he seems inclined to hurt her. Brandon has never seen an angel look anything but coldhearted and unmerciful, and this creature – angel, demon, whatever he is – has been no exception when he came into their camp. But now, looking at the girl, the human girl, there is a warmth to his expression, like an edge has been taken away. Even from outside the room, looking through a small, dirty window in the door, Brandon sees how the angel's eyes soften as the girl closes her eyes and seemingly involuntarily leans into his touch.
"You're cold," the angel murmurs, placing the palm of his hand fully on her cheek.
"I doubt they will waste precious electricity by heating our room." She's right about that. A muscle jumps in the angel's cheek.
"And here you are trying to convince me that these people are the good guys."
"They are the good guys, Raffe. They're who'll keep us safe from blood-crazed angels and monster."
The angel shakes his head. "They haven't kept you safe. One of them hurt you. For the second time."
"Well, you were there the first time. You know I can handle him. And you didn't seem to mind back then."
"You weren't mine to protect back then."
"And now I am?"
The angel draws and arm around her and pulls her close. "Yes."
"What are you doing?" she whispers.
"Keeping you warm."
The girl looks up at him, and now her cheeks are definitely a considerable shade pinker. In the long stretch of silence that follows, Brandon is almost sure that he can hear his own heart beat. He's never witnessed any human-angel interaction like this and he doubts that anyone else has. The angel says something, too quiet for Brandon to understand and the girl's eyes cast downward, a lost expression taking over her face. The angel tips her head back up with a thumb under her chin. His expression looks almost pained.
The angel tips his forehead against hers, just for a moment, and then they pull apart, stiffly, like their muscles resist the movement. Brandon withrdraws as well. He doesn't want to get caught spying on them.
When he peeks into the room again a few minutes later, the girl is laying on the matress, wrapped into two blankets, and the angel is stretched out on the matress next to her, his gaze languidly drifting through the room. When it lands on her, something flashes on his face again, something tender, and yet sad. The angel watches her for a few moments, taking in her sleeping form, before he closes his eyes and turns his back to her.
Brandon continues to stare through the window, holding his breath for something to happen, but after a few minutes, he has to acknowledge that nothing will. He sighs and turns away from the window, his head full of questions, his bones already heavy from weariness. Though he'd never admit it to anyone, he could watch this unlikely pair forever. But now they were sleeping, and it doesn't look like he'll get an answer to his questions any time soon.
He supresses a yawn and moves his head from side to side, cracking his head.
He had a long night ahead of him.
H...hello? Is anyone there?
Okay, so I'm back from my hiatus. I'm truly sorry that I was gone for so long, if anyone's still out there to hear it. I had a lot to deal with and didn't have the mental capacity to focus on writing, though I still visit this fandom almost daily. If I'm not alone out here by now, I'd love to hear from you guys!
I had this sitting on my laptop for ages, just a drabble that I wrote all for myself a while ago, but I decided that it was time to give you guys something to make the wait for the next BNWL chapter more bearable. While I'm at it, I once again stress that I have not abandonded Black Night, White Light, and am about 3k words into the next chapter. I'm currently on vacation for a week and don't know how much time to write I'll have, but if anyone's still interested, I am going to update BNWL!
So, if you liked my back-from-the-dead-drabble and are still interested in reading whatever my brain spews out, please let me know, and again, I'm really sorry for being gone for so long.
As always, I hope you enjoyed!
~K.