No real intro but please review. Thanks.

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He surveyed the burnt out hull of the old building with cold pale eyes. No, he didn't think it was an accident caused by a young boy playing with matches. So far the sheriff had accepted the wishes of the Mother Superior to keep the cause of the fire under wraps. Of course the public would be outraged if they knew the cause of the fire was arson; a can of gasoline and a match but he also know if the Brotherhood found out he was still alive they could possibly come for the children and the nuns again.

It was obvious that the arsonist they hired wasn't a professional. If he was the man doubted that they would have burnt down 75% of the island as well. He knew that by seeking sanctuary at the orphanage he had placed them all in danger. The fire came as no surprise. The surprise was that they hadn't found him sooner. He smirked at the smoking mess, "Such and obvious message directly to me." They knew the cremation never took place because he was never dead.

He was very close to death for awhile and he would have gladly accepted it but the events on the rooftop of the theater wouldn't let him. He felt something for the first time since the Brotherhood came to him when he was sixteen to inform him as to his birthright. He remembered rejecting the man who had come to him and identified himself as the Teacher realizing that they had killed his parents and the entire circus troop to get to him. In fact before the Teacher he had considered entering the priesthood. Still he eventually accepted the Teacher once he was convinced that he could do more good for the orphanage in a non-clerical capacity. So in the summer of his seventeenth year he left the only home he had for the previous ten years.

Reluctantly he let his mind wander to the angel and reaching into his pocket her pulled out a strand of rose gold hair and caressed it against his face closing his eyes, delighting in its texture and memories of its former owner. She is what gave him the will and the courage to keep on living. The fall would have killed a normal man but he had long ago accepted that he wasn't normal. He had broken most of his ribs, dislocated a shoulder and badly injured one of his hips. The hip was now held in place with titanium pins and he walk with a slight limp and used the sword as a cane now rather than the cane as a sword.

When the Brotherhood came for him they would have expected him to have a healthy body to continue what they called their "work". He wouldn't give up his current one yet although he had been tempted when he landed in the alleyway and felt as though his lungs were on fire from the blood swirling around in them. When Seamus moved he was tempted to claim him but he knew that he could never have the angel that way. Then the E fell. He remembered the shower of sparks vividly and the heat from them against his face. A yell of "M'God Seamus!" in a thick brogue echoed down the alley and much to the Thin Man's relief the thug was roughly the same build as he was. Perhaps God was still watching out for him.

The Irishman grunted and pushed the large letter off the pair while he played dead. He didn't doubt if the Irishman realized he was still alive he wouldn't be for long. After much work the kin of Seamus O'Grady managed to remove the bigger man off the Thin Man's body. "What a souvenir," he said as he rolled the assassin over and pulled the sword from his back. God was on his side as Seamus' body exhaled the remaining gasses from its lungs distracting the Irishman. It was now or never. He had to kill again before it was too late. Forcing himself to sit up, then to stand, he stealthily approached the man leaning over the body of his fallen cousin. With all the strength he had left he turned the shocked man around and pressed his fingers into the man's throat choking the life out of him. Greed, pride, lust, sloth, gluttony the Irishman possessed four of the five sins and his deeds.the Thin Man couldn't hang on to him long or he would have to take the vessel of the slimy little man but he could feel his minor wounds healing, he felt stronger.

He let go of the man's throat and removed the sword from the hand of the man who was gasping for air. "A souvenir indeed," he though as he waved the tip at the man signaling that he should take off his clothes. The man shook his head coughing. The Thin Man pressed the tip of the sword against his heart in an indication that he would kill him if he didn't do as he was told. The Irishman who he now knew was Killian O'Grady undressed down to his red heart boxer shorts. He nodded at Killian in approval and ran him through in the same location that Seamus had stabbed him on the rooftop. Matching wounds. Killian looked confused as he dropped to his knees. Withdrawing the sword he quickly changed from his into the dying man's clothes, dressed the man in his and reinserted the sword.

Hours later he arrived at the orphanage. The Mother Superior took him in without any questions and called the local doctor. As he fell asleep in pain and exhaustion that first night he remembered her saying, "No police, he is here for sanctuary." It was the first time that he realized that the Mother Superior knew that there was more to him than a generous benefactor. Now as he placed the hair back in his pocket and lit a cigarette he knew he had to leave again.

"Anthony," said the Mother Superior joining him looking at the smoldering heap.

Quickly he removed the small leather bound note pad from his pocket along with a pen. Placing the cigarette between his lips to free his hands, he scribbled an account number and a bank name. Then he wrote, "There should be enough in this account to help with the reconstruction." Then he added as an afterthought, "If not complete it." Then he tore it out handing it to her.

"You know I love you Anthony. It is almost as though you are the son I never had." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes, I love all the boys here for they are gifts God but you came to me when I doubted my faith most; regretted not having a son or daughter of my own. It was as though God brought you to me specifically Anthony."

He was about to write how he was not from God at all when she placed her hand on his and stopped him. "I know you feel this is your fault but my son, you are not to blame for the actions of a wicked few. That is why I permitted you sanctuary. You don't think I am blind do you? I know of your actions, your blood money. I also know that you are repentant which is why I accept what you give us."

He lowered his eyes and she placed a kiss on the top of his head. Writing again he handed her a note. "They have found me. I have to go."

Sadly she nodded. "The children will miss you." He turned and walked off.

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Dylan was awakened the next morning to Alex pulling open the thick draperies of the bedroom allowing the sun to stream into the room blinding her. "Good morning sleepyhead", chirped Natalie presenting her with breakfast. Bosley followed close behind carrying a newspaper.

It was confusing. She could barely remember the night before but she knew she went out and she had no idea how she got home. Throwing the blankets back she was surprised that she was in her pajamas. "Maybe I dreamt it all," she said to herself. The others were standing there looking at her as confused as she felt.

"Are you okay Dylan?" asked Natalie pressing a cool palm to her head.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess I'm just a little disoriented this morning. So," she said sitting up and pulling the breakfast tray closer to her, "how was dinner last night?"

Her friends exchanged looks. "How did you sleep?" asked Alex.

"Good," she replied. She wasn't about to tell them that she went wondering about south London and heard voices in her mind from the killer she set free. Although the police couldn't pin the murders of the other women on him she knew that Cartusu killed them. She had seen it last night when he had invaded her mind again.

"Are you sure? You had a pretty bad nightmare."

"Did I?" It wasn't what she considered a nightmare. It was a dream, the same dream she had every night. Then slowly it began to come back to her. She kissed Anthony and it wasn't him it was Cartusu. "I guess I did."

"Well we thought that after the rough day you had yesterday that you might want to just relax today. Breakfast in bed, lounge around watch some TV, and maybe take in some of the sights," said Alex. She hated to do this to Dylan but they had to respect Scotland Yard's and Charlie's decision. They had talked to Charlie first thing that morning and he seemed to agree that Dylan had been overstressed and needed a break, but he knew as well as the others that she wouldn't do it unless she was forced.

"You know guys I'm fine. Just let me run through the shower and get dressed then I'll come with you."

The three of them exchanged looks. "Listen Dylan, just take today off. Rest. If you want to help why don't you look and see if you can find any other murders over the years that match these ones?" suggested Natalie. Finally it dawned on Dylan what was going on She wasn't sure how she had lost the entire evening before but it was coming back to her now. They had gotten word that Cartusu was free and she was off the case. "This is about my dropping the charges isn't it."

"Dylan."stared Natalie but Alex finished, "Why did you drop the charges?"

She knew the question would be asked sooner or later and although she thought about it she didn't have any answer for them. "I had my reasons."

"Well care to share them?" asked Natalie in what she hoped didn't sound mean.

"Actually no. So if you guys are going maybe you should go now. You wouldn't want to keep Inspector Morrison waiting," she snapped angrily. Then she threw the lid to the silver tray that held her breakfast across the room nearly hitting Bosley, surprise evident on their faces.

"Okay Dylan. We just want you to feel better," said Natalie giving her a hug which she shook off. Alex and Bosley said quiet good byes and they all left the room.

She didn't know what was wrong with her. Her nerves were so raw. She didn't mean to yell at them. She defiantly didn't mean to throw the tray. Getting out of bed she picked up the lid and caught a glimpse of her reflection in it. What she saw shocked her. Placing the tray lid back on the bed she went to the bathroom to check out the mirror there. It was the same. Through her hair she had strands of black. She wondered if the other angels saw them too. It wasn't obvious she supposed but the equivalent of having a gray hair, or in her case ten to twenty gray hairs. Carefully she plucked them out and threw them in the wastepaper basket.