Enjoy the Silence
A Charlie's Angels fan-fiction by Airo Smicktor
"Words are very/Unnecessary
They can only do harm."
– Enjoy the Silence by Depeche Mode
Part 1 – Aftermath of a Fall
A loud explosion stirred him out from unconsciousness.
Groggily, he tried opening his eyes, but found that his eyelids were very heavy.
No, not heavy. Tired.
He was tired, but more then that. Much more. He was tired, weak and hurt. Most of all he was hurt. There was pain shooting through almost every part of his body.
His mind was in a daze, asking the questions it thought was relevant but may not be answered. The whos, whats, whens, wheres, whys and hows. He strained, his fingers twitching slightly as his body responded.
A second explosion, one much more louder and stronger fully awoke him.
His eyes snapped open instantly. He found himself looking at what seemed to be the back of another man's head.
It was confusing to say the least.
Although still in a lot of pain, but to him nothing too serious, he tried to straighten his thoughts out as too way this was happening.
Something, there was something he was supposed to be doing right now…
His hand clenched around something soft in his hand. Hair.
Her hair.
Dylan.
It all came back to him at that moment. He had been on the rooftop, helping the Angels take on the O'Grady's men…
Then he realised two things that explained why he was in so much pain.
He'd fallen from the roof several floors down to the unprotected ground AND had his own sword stabbed through his chest.
Ah, yes, that old chestnut.
What made the situation stranger was that there was another person on top of him, impaled on his sword while it was stuck in him.
Just as well no one seemed to be around, otherwise this could be embarrassing.
Rolling over to his side, he started to push the body off of himself and his sword. It took quite a long time since he was still weak. After a few minutes with a lot effort, the task was done and he sat up, free of the other body.
Without any further hesitation, he then roughly pulled his sword out of his body. He gasped in the sudden pain that ripped through his body, but relaxed himself the best he could afterwards.
He could tell that this was going to take quite a lot of herbal medicine to help this wound heal up. And bandages, lots and lots of bandages.
Carefully he put his sword back into its 'walking stick' case that he carried it in, before reaching into his pocket and taking out a cigarette and lighting it.
He took a deep inhale of the smoke, before blowing it out, letting it run behind him over his shoulders. Sure it was a bad habit, but he wasn't exactly a good guy.
Taking another smoke, he made a mental list of the tasks he had to do.
Number One – Heal up and be ready for action.
Number Two – Find and kill Shamus O'Grady
Number Three – Find and kill that 'Fallen Angel'
Number Four – Find and protect Dylan (also covered by numbers two and three)
Number Five – Get a new haircut. Perhaps not very important right now, but he was a little overdue.
Standing up, using his 'walking stick' to help him, he looked up. There was a giant E from the sign on the rooftop that was stretched between the roof of the building he was on and the one next to it.
He then looked down at the body that had been impaled on top of him.
Well, that was task number two taken care off. Killed by his own sword, which had been used against him. That was something different.
Wasting no further time, he began to walk out of the alley and onto the packed street. He looked towards the movie premier that was still going on, scanning the crowd.
One face he noticed above all others. Her face.
Dylan.
The other Angels were with her, along with Bosley and the kid Max who'd been at the same orphanage he'd been at.
He almost smiled knowing that she was safe. Almost. He didn't actually know if he could smile. Scream, sure, but smiling… That was something strange to him.
He could safely assume that tasks three and four were taken care off. That left healing himself, and that haircut.
It was obvious which he was going to take care of first. Besides, Mother Superior had stated no more night-calls for haircuts.
Turning around, he walked down the street, away from the movie premier. He had to get home, and ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead of him.
That was his life. The life of the man who'd been given the name Anthony. After Saint Anthony of Padua, the healer of the mute.
The Thin Man.