A/N: I've noticed that this story is very OC driven. Like you hardly see anything of August. Just Katrina mostly. I dunno, maybe it's 'cause I'm so proud of me for inventing such a believable non-obnoxious, non-Mary Sue, Original Character. No matter what the reason, I think we're seeing too much Katrina. But August needs to take back-seat for now, until Katrina tells him about her situation. This one's mostly August with a dash of Katrina at the end.

P.S. I apologize. It's about to get more OC driven. I know it may get annoying.

Chapter 10: The Uncalled-For Angels

August wandered about on his way back to the Fillmore East from yet another day from street performing--with his guitar this time-- trying to keep his head down so no one would recognize him. What if he got caught? Oh, the thought of it almost made August want to pass out. Leaving Katrina all alone, all by herself, in a gang-speckled homeless environment, in an illegally occupied abandoned theatre. Especially after giving his one-time gift to her.

They were permanently committed to each other in a way. At least that was, deep down, even though he wouldn't admit it to anyone-- even himself, what August believed should be.

When he first was getting to know Katrina and vice versa, when the topic of religion and ethnic beliefs was brought up as it naturally would have, August had told her that he was "religion-nonspecific." to try and impress her. It did.

"I believe in God and all, but I'm not a homophobe, and I think yoga is cool even though you'll never catch me dead attempting to try such a thing. I believe in the supernatural crap, and that odd connections between living beings everywhere does exist--I'm living proof of that after all." he'd rambled to her. "And traditional Jewish music is cool. It's got lots of culture to it." he added though that didn't really have to do with beliefs.

Which, even though he'd planned on stretching the truth a bit, it was the plain truth. All of it. Not even the slightest tug or stretch. It seemed as though whenever he planned on telling something not in his heart to Katrina it backfired and he told her the plain miraculous truth, and she still thought it was the coolest thing ever.

He looked up carefully, upon noticing that it wasn't so typically NYC-crowded, to check where he was at in relation to the theatre, or just because of human instinct that didn't permit one to look down at his feet all the time when headed to a specific destination. He took in a horrified gasp, realizing that this wasn't the direction of the Fillmore East at all. Not even near it. He hadn't been here before, ever, and he had no idea where he was.

But it was a poor neighborhood, with run-down buildings clad in graffiti towering menacingly over him, commanding his fear. Trash littered the sidewalks, and a street-lamp flickered miserably even though it was still daytime. The NYC equivalent of Los Angeles' Skid Row, he thought with a rush of terror inside him. Not the safest place to be!

He was going to start physically panicking when he noticed something that made him gasp again, this time in ironic recognition. The sight of a glorious, also run-down but still all the beautiful stones-sided church. The stained glass windows glinted in the sunlight, telling him August, it's okay, you have been here before after all. You're safe here. Just come on in.

He steadied himself before falling to his knees with relief and shock. The only place of his past besides the orphanage that he had had yet to revisit. And here he was. Hope, Reverend J, the choir, everyone he'd known there. And here he was.

Hope would be about fourteen now. She'd probably changed so much. Hope…

August continued staring wide-eyed at the church with awe, until his thoughts were brought back down to earth, rather enchantingly, as his highly-trained ear caught sound of a lovely floating voice, getting gradually louder as it got closer. The voice of an female African-American, that's all he could tell at this point. He could even begin to make out words…

Seems to be nothing left for me; momma's gone, daddy didn't wanna be, and now I'm all by myself… the voice was right behind him. Right there, its owner waiting to be discovered by him, waiting for the friendship they'd had to be rekindled, waiting to be…reconciled after nearly five years.

August slowly turned. A face met his gaze, matured and beautified from since he last saw her, gorgeous and not a trace of makeup. A gold cross necklace. Curls pulled back in a bun. Big brown eyes staring back at him in common recognition, teary, for she saw him. And knew him.

Hope.

August.

The two friends who had played the piano together one defining spring morning, performed music alongside each other one late summer evening, one conducting and one singing. Both teenagers' breath quickened, and they bounded up to each other and surrounded each other in such a tight embrace.

August fought a losing battle against tears. Katrina couldn't hug quite like that.

"Oh, God. It can't be you!" Hope cried into August's shoulder. "It's gotta be an angel. An angel!"

"No, you're the angel, remember?" August sobbed into Hope's hair. "Oh, it's been so long. Let's catch up." He shakily led her to the church's front steps, and they both took a seat, both still staring at each other in disbelief.

Hope took in a deep breath, clutching his hand in hers, determined not to let him go. Nothing had happened to her at all lately, she said. Going to school, babysitting children at the church…and waiting for her long-lost friend to come and find her again, to hear her music, and to come and get her; to sweep her off her feet, in a way.

"Sweep you off your feet?" August inquired, confused. A weird knotting feeling formed deep within him, making him feel funny and uncomfortable yet oddly in the right place. Like after he'd been reunited with his parents. Like he was on the right track or something…

A scarlet rush of blood tinted Hope's cheeks. "Well… I mean… if you don't want to go that far--"

August interrupted her, pressing a finger to her lips. Her lips were full and warm and soft and--glossed! Mauve and sparkly. Katrina never wore lip gloss. Even before they ran away. It was probably a completely different kissing experience, wasn't?

He decided to try.

What Katrina didn't know wouldn't hurt her…

Hope would have to ask for God's forgiveness later. Right now, August was parting her lips (much like, unbeknown to her, how he'd done to Katrina) and just as they opened their mouths, she pulled herself onto his lap. There they were, making out on the front stoop of a church!

---

A crowd had simultaneously gathered outside the door of Wizard's "Office" (which was really the big fancy room with the broken glass dome through which one could look up at the stars at night and philosophize). They gossiped anxiously, nosily, wondering what the ruckus behind the door was about. Shanice and Katrina arrived last, Katrina clutching her stomach against the fading nausea from earlier that morning.

From behind the door, muffled voices could be heard. Two of them: a grown man's (obviously Wizard) bellowing things like "Come on, you're the best violinist we have!!" and "Don't you dare think about going back to that wretched place! They don't care about you!!" The second voice was that of a smaller boy's, shakily retaliating with things like "But, sir, I--" and "Yes, they do care--" and the occasional gasp or small cry.

Shanice's mouth fell agape, offended. She leaned in closer to Katrina and whispered, "The best violinist?!" Shanice played violin, and rather well, only her D string was very close to snapping and was bound to break any day and then she'd be screwed.

"I suppose it's that Aiden kid." Arthur suggested to the crowd, addressing, figuring out as to what sort of punishment this little "Aiden" was going to have to endure besides a good telling-off. "He's been talking about going back where he came from. He's gonna get it good, eh!"

"Aiden?" Katrina asked. "I don't think I've met him before."

"Ah, I bet you saw him, for sure. He's not hard to miss. Big scary horror movie ghost eyes. And he always looks sleep-deprived. And sick. And…dead." Arthur shuddered and Shanice nodded in agreement.

Katrina remembered the little boy she smiled at on her way to take her pregnancy test the other day. Her pulse quickened. Perhaps she really was very pregnant; her motherly instincts kicked in like a little switch inside of her, and she wanted nothing more than to get that poor child out of the menacing clutches of Wizard. She remembered his eerie glare, his piercing eyes, and the shock of black hair and dramatic eyebrows. That pale face. "Oh, him." was all she could choke out. Her mind screamed at her, Go save him!

But it was too late for that. The "office" door slowly creaked open, Wizard snapped, "Now get out of here and tell everyone to leave me the hell alone!" and out emerged Aiden, who was taller standing up than Katrina thought he would be, only he was shaking and twitching like mad, a dazed look on his face, and he was weak on his knees. His eyes were piercing as ever, but they were so out of focus and he appeared so in shock that Katrina instinctively rushed forward to him.

She reached his side just as his stunning eyes rolled back slightly and he collapsed, backward right into Katrina's arms. She let out a small scream as his weight tumbled into her grasp, but she hadn't enough strength to steady him back up, and she kneeled down slowly as the aid to break his fall. Once they reached the floor, she laid his head in her lap and soothingly stroked his bangs off of his sweaty forehead, the way that always calmed August down. She fanned him with her other hand.

"How old is he?" she asked Arthur.

"Uh, I'm not sure. I think, like, eleven or somethin'. Twelve soon. Yeah, he looks young. But, man, he sure is a softy. I got a tellin'-off like that and I just laughed my ass of afterwards."

"Arthur!" Katrina snapped disapprovingly. "He's just a little boy! And August is no tough guy either; he nearly pees his pants every time Wizard casts a glance his way." She just spoke ill of her baby-daddy, but all she really cared about right now was helping the kid in her arms regain consciousness.

Katrina couldn't help, though, but feel, as she held Aiden and stroked his black tresses, that today she caught a falling angel in her arms. There was something special about this boy and she was determined to find out what.

A/N: I'm rather satisfied with this chapter. The scene between August and Hope was wrong-ish yet not angering, Katrina is being a good Samaritan, and we've got a mystery-type kid. I know Aiden seems kinda Gary Stu-ish right now, but as I define his character we'll take care of that, won't we?

Next chapter: Aiden awakes, and helps Katrina find the courage to finally 'fess up to August.