He had named her. The Weeping woman, with her prayers and tears had called her Angela but it never stuck.
"Angel." He called her and Angel took. He made her paper birds in the back alleys when Rage tore the house apart screaming for money and the Weeping woman shook and clutched her hands together. Angel would watch the birds fly above the grey roofs and into clear skies above, and he would pick her up and swing her round until she felt she was following them. When the house was too dangerous to go back for dinner they went to the chippy and she counted the money out for him on the big counter so the man couldn't short change him.
Sometimes they slept in the shop porch when it was cold and the Rage still hadn't subsided and they would try to guess where the paper birds had landed. He told her one day she would grow wings and fly to heaven just like a real angel. Later, when he had flown there himself on a tide of blood, she'd had wings inked on her back. Unable to follow him to Heaven she'd tried at least to walk out of Hell. She didn't get all that far.
Her head hurt. She felt like she'd been sleepwalking for hours with weird dreams about fanged monsters and steel bars, about keeping guard over the odd woman with the commanding voice, Vespera. There had been a strange presence in the background of her mind, not malicious, but authoritarian in its purpose. It had faded away now leaving her once more alone with old and painful memories of times past.
Her head really hurt.
She reached up to touch her forehead and felt the blinding sting of parted skin roughened by congealed blood. The sight in one of her eyes seemed blurred, bulging the darkened shapes in the cell like the watchers of a gold fish bowl. She grimaced and withdrew her hand. The wound would heal quicker if she left it alone, her body had mended itself without help many times over the years, now would be no different.
Time seemed to have passed since her last real memory, that of the soldiers and the old man in the lab coat. The room was somehow subdued, its occupants in a dazed state. The man Tyron lay silent on a bunk while next to Angel's hip the woman Vespera seemed to be unconscious, the still figure of Sophia's sister had disappeared, replaced by a cushion dummy she had dim memories of constructing. So her recent dreams may not have been imaginings after all.
Angel unrolled her large frame from the cramped bunk and as an afterthought twitched a thin sheet over Vespera as if feeling the phantom edge of her imposed role as guardian. The sudden moment made the small group jump, at her feet Tryst edged away slightly.
"Soldiers buggered off then." She mused to no one in particular, wondering over to stare once more at the iron door. It remained as defiantly solid as ever.
"You seem better." Smiled Jordan, Angel couldn't help noticing he had his hand entwined with the pretty Sophia's. She rolled her eyes, she could think of better places for a budding romance.
"Must have a hard head." Angel replied casually, always best to be casual, too serious, too intent people would watch you, look to you for something, expect everything. Nobody looked to a drifter for anything, it kept people away, just how she liked it. She was looking at the door again. The hinges were reinforced, but in a strange way as if the door had to be adapted for its purpose. From this side she could do absolutely nothing but if she were on the other side it didn't look as if it would be too much trouble to bash the door inwards. Stupid really, she mused, if she were on the other side of the door she wouldn't be trying to open it in the first place. Her stomach growled at her accusingly, it had been a long time since anyone had bothered to feed her.
"I don't suppose..."She pondered, "Anyone has thrown any food in here since I got thwacked on the noggin."
"No." Replied the Jordan smiling. "I won't come back to this hotel again, I don't think much of the room service."
"I have food." It was a small voice, shaky as if unused, from an unobserved corner of the cell. Sophia was on her feet in seconds as nearby the dark haired Bow uncoiled like a spring.
The slight frame of Serenity seem to wave in and out of the darkness like a wrath. In her arms she held a small cache of bread and fruit. Sophia grabbed her sister and dragged her further into the cell sending food spilling onto the hard floor.
"Where were you Serenity I was worried sick? Are you ok, are you hurt?" Sophia's voice told of all the meddle of emotions from the past hours. Serenity seemed to shrink back from her sister's intensive stare.
"I was in the garden." She said in a voice that was hardly above a whisper.
"And the food Serenity, where did you get the food?" Sophia snapped back, as if trying to catch her sister out.
"There was a kitchen...He was hungry."
"Who?" Said Sophia puzzled.
"You're hurting her." Bow moved forward now. The edge to his voice made Sophia move back as if stung, Jordan suddenly beside her as if sensing her uncertainty.
Serenity moved towards the dark haired stranger without hesitation or fear. She held her head as if expecting to be kissed and Bow did not disappoint taking her mouth as a starving man takes bread. Sophia tried to move forward towards her sister but both Jordan and Angel held her back. Something in the group had changed, a new factor which they all sensed, this union was something not to be disturbed.
The lovers parted, Bow still with his arms wrapped around the still figure of Serenity. Their kiss had been so violent there was blood on her lips but she was smiling as if the holder of some inner joy withheld to her until that moment.
"You will not leave me again without permission." Bow's voice was low and husky, the kiss having awoken a wealth of feeling he could not yet satisfy. "You will promise me."
"I promise." Serenity's voice came back stronger than it had ever been. Sophia's world seemed to hover in and out, never had she expected this. Only a week ago she had seen her and her sister's future stretch out into the long years ahead and now all that had been shattered in a single moment by a man she knew nothing about.
"Let's hope some of this is still edible." Angel's voice broke the silence. The giant figure bent down and scooped an errant roll from the rough floor and into her mouth in one movement. Just as quickly she gagged, dropping the bread to the floor once more.
"It's like sawdust." Angel moaned, coughing out the crumbs. "What're they making the bread from these days' brick?"
Nearby Tryst, who had delicately picked up an apple from the dropped hoard, emitted shrill whine and let the fruit drop back to the floor.
"It tastes odd, I can't swallow." She rolled the doe like eyes up to the rest of the group. "It's poison isn't it."
The rest of the food was inspected. It all seemed edible enough in smell and texture, but not one of them could swallow a mouthful without retching.
"This isn't right." Said Sophia dropped a roll back on the floor. "The food's fine. We know something's been done to us while we slept, but why is it preventing us eating, surely they don't want us to starve to death?"
No-one answered her. Angel had gone back to her bunk and once more was scratching the number on her wrist. All she could think about was the hallway of disfigured hands, the way the creatures in the cell had honed in on blood...and how hungry she had felt when the wayward drops of crimson liquid had formed on Serenity's lips.