A/N: Hey, folks. Another one, a bit shorter than the last.
Finally we're getting somewhere with the plot, I suppose. I hope you dear readers enjoy this one. As always lemme know if there's any issues and please feel free to leave a comment, if it please you.
The song Ollie sings midway through is called Kate McCannon by Colter Wall, for those of you who might want to listen to it. The tempo is a bit strange so it'll help give you a better picture.
Anyways, that's all. Love you guys, and Happy Halloween!

...

Ollie had to admit, while Justice's methods were... unorthodox, they certainly were effective. The inordinate amount of time he had spent flexing in the mirror as of late was irrefutable proof of that. He was never one to be vain about his appearance, what with the fact that he looked like Christian Bale in The Machinist. Now, though? He was a changed man.

His body, once a prime example of the human skeletal system, was slowly becoming a canvas of developed muscle. His skinny arms now bulged with (admittedly still small, but hey he was making progress!) decent biceps and triceps. His once-flat chest now began to grow in strength. His legs, while not anywhere near impressive, were now defined. Hell, he was even growing an ass, if you believed it! But his back...

Well, he could crush an apple between his shoulder blades if he wanted to. So as far as he was concerned? He was in the best shape he'd ever been. Mentally, and physically. He had the harem to thank for that. Some more than others, for sure.

It had been about a week since his date with Malina. The time since had been well spent. In the mornings he ate a hearty breakfast and worked out with Justice. In the afternoons he did pretty much anything, ranging from playing with Cerberus, to watching cute animal movies with Judgement and Lucifer. Yes, he loved cute little animals, no he wasn't ashamed in the least. In the evenings he was caught either helping Azazel with her research, or playing games with Malina and drinking himself blind. His liver had never been so angry, but he had never been so happy.

Hell, Zdrada hadn't even bothered him since they made their semi-truce! If that didn't shock him, nothing could! He groans, struggling to push the log up for his last rep when his face is shrouded in black smoke.

Fuck. Scratch that. Set the counter to "0 Days Without Zdrada Antagonizing Him."

He responds in the only way he knows how, of course. That being choking on the smoke cloud as he drops the log on himself. "A-hack-hack! Fuck- HACK-HAK!" He coughs, both from the weight of a (roughly) 230-pound log on his chest as his face is enwreathed in smoke. "Get it off! -HACK! GET IT!" He begs. She rolls her eyes, pushing the log off of him, hitting the dirt with a dull thud.

"Damn dude, you gotta' lift more." She snickers, taking another drag. "I could probab-" She begins what would be another ribbing, before she's interrupted by him smacking her cigarette out of her hand. "Oh, you motherfu-"

"No! I ain't doing this! Uh-uh! Rewind!" He shouts, giving the 'time-out' sign. "You came and fucked with me! You started this shit, I'm allowed to be pissed! Every time you come near me, I end up getting hurt! Wanna screw with me? Fine! But stop being a stupid cunt, and almost killing me! Fuck!" He raves, throwing his hands in the air.

"Stop being such a baby, dude! Damn! What's the problem?! Azazel can just fix you or whatever!" She bites back.

"Azzy isn't here you menace! She's out shopping with uncle and Justice! What if you crushed my ribs? That's like, 200 pounds I just dropped on my chest!" He retorts. Of course, the knowledge that nobody would have been around to save him didn't faze her in the least.

"So what?"

"So- so what?! So fucking what?! I-" He begins another tirade, before shutting his mouth. He picks up his water bottle and speaker, before making for the house.

"What's the matter, pussy? Mad because you got nothing to say?" She snickers, turning to the treeline and beginning to light another cigarette. Then something impacts with the back of her head, shattering. She moans involuntarily, then looks up at Ollie who stands in the doorway with a look of shock on his face. "Woah, trying to get in pants? You have balls! Maybe I'll let you have a ride sometime!" She cackles, turning her attention back to her smokes.

All Ollie is left with is a look of disgust as he stares off into the distance. He shakes his head, ambling back into the house, trudging back to his room. The stairway feels a hundred times longer as the pain in his chest aches, the dull throb causing him pain with every breath. He groans, dropping his ass onto the bed and digging through his duffel bag. He searches for a few minutes, then an epiphany strikes him clear on his head.

"Fuuuck!" He groans, falling onto his bed clutching his head. "MY ZAZAAA!" He cries, gripping his face out of sheer anger. He had forgotten that he had, indeed, smoked his last joint last night. With nowhere to buy more.

Leaving him fresh out of the good kush. He just couldn't win, could he?

He stands, stretching his arms and shoulders out, wincing a bit at the resulting jolt of pain. "Fuck it." He sighs. "Guess I'll wash off."

Deciding that maybe a shower is just what he needs, he fishes a new set of clothes from his bag and his speaker, before shuffling down to the bathroom. Once inside, he shucks all his clothes off, leaving only a wooden cross necklace. The log had left a few scratches across the surface of his skin, thankfully nothing worse. He didn't think he had managed to crack any ribs. In all likelihood, he'd probably just be sore for a few days. 'Got off light, this time.' He thinks to himself. At least, comparing to his last run-in with Zdrada.

He turns the dials, turning the water to approximately 'Scalding hot.'

He spends somewhere around 15 minutes basking in the steam, hot water, and the pleasures of Radiohead, before he hears the door squeak. "I'm in here!" He calls out, but no response. He shrugs. After all, it wasn't likely that one of the others would try and sneak a peek.

Unless it was Modeus acting horny as usual. Or Zdrada trying to ruin his one moment of peace today. That didn't seem too unlikely, now that he thought about it. But he was too worn out to care, really. He leans against the wall of the shower, running his hand over his face as he relaxes.

Until he feels hands graze across his chest.

"AAH!" He squeals, in probably the highest pitch he's ever hit. He jerks away, frantically wiping his eyes dry to see who dare disturb him at his most vulnerable.

Malina?

"Mal- what the fuck?!" He hollers, covering himself as best he can with his hands. "I'm tryna take a shower!"

"Yeah, so what?" She deadpans. "I am too, and you've been in here forever."

"Wh- I-" He stutters, unable to grasp her logic. He decides to surrender. His morning's already been confusing. He didn't need to add to the stress. "Y- okay. Yeah." He turns his back to her, facing the wall. She gasps. At first, he's worried she's seen the scars. His fears are all but confirmed once she feels her hands drag across his back.

"Holy shit, this tattoo is awesome..." She muses, tracing the lines with her fingers, running up the back of his shoulders over his upper arms. He gives a silent sigh of relief.

"Thanks. I spent every penny I ever had on it, so it damn well better be cool." He jokes.

"You look like a yakuza." She laughs quietly, along with him.

"Well, that's the look I was going for." He shrugs, attempting to flex his back muscles. Yes, he was proud of his progress, and you better believe he was going to flaunt it if he could.

"It's fucking hot."

: has stopped responding.

He isn't sure what to say, at that.

Just say 'thanks'?

Flirt back? The hell does he even say?

"You good, dude?" She asks, cocking an eyebrow at his sudden silence.

"No, no. I just... ain't ever been called that before? I guess? I'm not really sure what to do now."

"Really?"

"Uhh... yeah?" He shrugs. "Up until I came here, I was a scrawny brat with scraggly hair and a bad attitude."

"You know there's girls who are into that, right?"

"Pfft, I'm afraid they aren't my type." He scoffs.

"What is?"

He turns to face her, stupid grin on his face. She braces for impact, just knowing that whatever comes out of his mouth is going to be moronic, cheesy, or both.

"I got this thing for hot demon girls named Malina. Who'd have guessed, right?" He smirks.

"Fucking cheesy." She groans, punching him in the chest.

"Unh!" He grunts, clutching his chest.

"Oh, it wasn't that hard you big baby!"

"No, I know. I dropped a log on myself earlier." He giggles internally at the unnoticed joke.

God help him, and his 9-year-old potty humor.

"How the hell did that happen?"

"Oh, uhh..." He hesitates, debating whether or not to tell her the truth. He didn't really want more drama today, but it seems Malina had a thing for sniffing out bullshit.

It was probably from dealing with Zdrada.

"Zdrada came out to fuck with me? And I kinda... sorta... dropped it on myself?" He admits awkwardly. Her mood plummets the moment he mentions her sister's name.

"What?! Oh, of course she did! Fucking typical!" She begins to shout, but he grabs her by the hands.

"Hey, I already threw a bottle at her head. I took care of it." He calms her. She comes back to Earth rather quickly, but he can tell she's still a bit miffed. Maybe it's because she can't go and throttle Zdrada? Or maybe, just maybe, it's because she fucked with him?

Either way, he regrets even bringing it up.

"You alright, now?" He asks, softly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Uh oh, she's not fine.

"Malina." He says sternly, trying to put on a false look of seriousness. The façade holds strong for a few moments more. "Malina."

"What?" She grunts.

"You're not fine." He states. "Gotta do something about that." Before she has a chance to refute the claim, he pulls her in, smashing his lips into hers.

As it turned out, it had improved her mood a little. But she still had to blow off steam somehow, right?

So she did.

…...

The point of taking a shower was to unwind, wasn't it?

'Well, it was a nice thought.' Ollie thought bitterly as he limped down the stairs. He wasn't sure how in the hell Malina was so flexible with all the sitting around she did, but he was sure that at this point it could be explained like every other extraordinary thing she could do. "Fuckin' demon physiology..." He mutters, easing himself down the last steps. He wondered if Azzy could fix his pelvis. Then again, he wasn't sure it was a good idea to have her 'healing touch' anywhere near his junk.

Speaking of, he had to wonder just where she had gone off to. While he and Malina were... doing isometric exercise so to speak, Justice and uncle had gotten home. But so far, he'd seen neither hide nor hair of the house's resident angel. Maybe he should ask uncle?

"Hey old man, how was shopping?" He asks, nudging his elbow as he stands over the stove, beginning to prep dinner. He looks at him nervously.

"Uhh, not great." Is all he says.

"Oh, great. What happened? Where's Azazel?" Ollie pinches the bridge of his nose.

"An angel came and took her. Apparently they had to talk to her about something." He says. "And Justice wasn't very happy about that."

"What?! When's she gonna be back? Please don't tell me Justice fought the angel!"

"No, of course not. Well, she tried but they kinda teleported back to Heaven or something." He shrugs. "She should be back anytime now, probably."

"Ugh, fuck sake." Ollie grumbles, exasperated. "This day couldn't be any fucking weirder." He complains. "I need to go for a ride. Can I take the van?"

"Yeah, just make sure you fill it up when you're out." He fishes the keys from his pocket, handing them over.

"Thanks..." He mutters, making his way towards the door and slipping on his jacket.

"Oh, by the way, your guitar finally arrived." Taker mentions, pointing to the crate by the door.

"Oh. Huh, I hadn't noticed. Wonder why it takes so long for airlines to ship people their shit back?" He wonders, cutting the tape with his folding knife and pocketing it. "Hope it didn't get damaged." He says, lifting the lid.

Inside lays an old acoustic guitar. One Taker had bought for him on his 15th birthday. Eyeing what is likely his most cherished possession, he lifts it gingerly from the boxful of shredded paper, cradling it like a child. "Think I'll take it along with me, maybe find a good view to play it at. Thanks, uncle. I'll try to be home before dinner." He promises.

It takes him a while cruising the rural town before he had found a suitable place to park. He had settled on a road with few houses, atop a hill that overlooked the lake, and the town that surrounded it. He hadn't played the radio the whole way there, which most would say was uncharacteristic of him. He had loved being surrounded by sound, after all. But sometimes, he needed silence. Just the sound of the wind passing by the window as he drove around to calm his mind.

He shuddered as he settled atop the van, gazing at all the town's lights, glittering off the surface of the water. He had loved Autumn, and all it had entailed. Even if the cold dry air had made his hands wither and crack.

It was a time of change. Both for his surroundings, and himself.

He could only hope it was a good kind of change.

He hums to himself, scrolling through his playlist for a song he knew how to play. Moments later, he finds one. He settles on a country song, as he was wont to do.

This song was special, however. He had first heard it in the county jail.

He plucks at the strings, testing the tuning before making a few adjustments. He clears his throat, and begins.

"Well, the raven is a wicked bird, his wings are black as sin.
And he floats outside my prison window, mocking those within."

"And he sings to me real low, 'It's hell to where you go. For you did murder Kate McCannon'"

He sighs. This song could hit a little too close to home, sometimes.

"When I first met Tom McCannon I was working in the mines.
Said he had himself a dark-haired daughter, with long, green eyes."

He strums away, ears stinging as the cold air numbs them. His mind is not on the nippy fall air, however.

"And when she and I did meet, she was bathing in the creek.
Prettiest girl in the whole damn holler, that ain't no lie."

Another lull in the song gives him a moment to reflect. Sure, he had done a lot of things in his life. Hell, he was 20, and he felt old as sin.

But he couldn't bring himself to regret any of it. He knew the great people he knew now, because of all he'd done. Whether or not he deserved to.

"So I went a courtin' Kate McCannon.
Got me a job and I quit my ramblin'."

"And every day I'd save a quarter of my pay."

"I could buy a diamond ring."
"Lord and one day I come home to find, my darlin' angel's not inside."

"So I made for the creek, where she and I did meet.
And found her with some other lover."

"And I put three rounds into Kate McCannon."

If he squinted, he could make out the shape of a person walking down the road. As if they were drawn to his voice. More akin to a trudge, he noted. He was worried, truthfully.

He doesn't really want any trouble, but he subconsciously shifts his leg a bit to make his knife more accessible just in case of emergency.

Nobody was gonna kill him but him.

As they inch closer, he can hear the sounds of weeping. The voice is familiar. The shape of the person becomes more apparent with every step, with them garbed in all white. 'Is that...?'

"Ollie..." They sniffle, voice wobbly. Holy shit, it is. "Ollie is that you?"

"Azzy?" He hops down, slinging his guitar on the back of the driver's seat. "Azzy, what're you doin' out here?" He asks, checking her over for any wounds. She has a few scrapes on her elbow and knees, but that's all he finds. "A-are you okay? What happened?!"

"I don't want to talk about it..." She sniffles once more, shivering as her eyes well up with tears.

"Fuck, okay. Okay." He shrugs off his jacket, offering it. "Put this on, you're freezing."

"I'll be o-" She begins to refuse, but he cuts her short.

"I wasn't asking. You'll get a cold, put it on." He orders.

She holds her arms out, and he slips the (he would say comedically large, were the situation less serious.) jacket over her, before pulling her into a hug.

"It's okay, Azzy. You're alright. Everything's fine now." He promises her, leading her to the passenger door.

"Nothing is okay!" She wails, sobbing into his chest. The pain in his chest returns, partly from earlier and now also from the stress of seeing Azazel in such a state.

"Hey, hey, we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?" He shushes her, stroking her hair softly and she hugs him tighter and tighter. "I'm gonna take you home. You need to rest. I'll make sure nobody bothers you, okay?" He gives a whispered promise. None would disturb his dear friend. They'd have to go through him, first.

He opens the passenger door for her, and she shuffles towards the seat, climbing in. He closes it and rushes to the driver's seat, making sure to roll the windows and turn the heat on. The next minutes are a blur, as he focuses on the road ahead of him while trying to tune out the sound of Azazel's cries. He gives her a pat every few minutes, trying to assuage her alongside himself. It was incredibly hard for him, hearing the innocent angel's sobs rack him with guilt.

'This day can't get any weirder, huh?' He thinks to himself, bitterly. 'Things just keep getting fucking weirder.'

After what feels like an eternity he pulls the van into the garage, making sure to hit the door remote on the way in. They sit in silence as Ollie gathers his belongings. "Azzy." He turns to her. She gives him no response. "Azazel." He places his hand on her shoulder. She flinches.

"What happened to you?" He wonders, rubbing her back. Her eyes begin to water yet again. She struggles to take in a shaky breath.

"Promise you won't be mad?" She asks worriedly. He nods.

"Of course, Azzy. Ain't a damn thing you could say that'd make me mad." He promises.

"I-" Her breath hitches. "I don't know if I can stay here anymore..." She whimpers.

"You... what?" Ollie asks, aghast. There's no way Heaven would... would they? "Azzy, listen. Everything will be okay. I'm not going to let them take you from me. From us." He steels his gaze, voice full of intensity and fervor.

"There's nothing you can do, Ollie. If they want to take me away, I have no choice." Azazel weeps.

"Like hell!" He rages.

"Listen, I'm going to gather everyone tomorrow, and we're going to talk about what happened. Then we can figure out something that we can do." He promises.

"Are... are you sure there's something that can be done?" She asks, downtrodden. And yet, the slightest font of hope remains in her voice.

"I don't know for sure. All I know is that where there's a will, there's a way. And you're one of the greatest people I've ever known, even if the bar is set pretty low. The bar doesn't need to be high to know good people when I see 'em. I'm not going to let them take you from me."

Her cheeks heat up at the praise. It does nothing to alleviate her mood at the moment, but she's touched he cared for her so much. If only she were allowed to do the same.

"Ollie, I... I think I just want to stay in here tonight. I would rather not face everyone else like this."

"That's okay, Azzie. I'll stay by you." He nods, putting up the center console and scooching next to her. He pulls her down gently, laying her down to rest her head on his lap. Grunting with some effort, he sheds his sweatshirt to lay it over her like a blanket. "Get some rest. We got a long day ahead tomorrow."

"Okay..." She closes her eyes, puffy and red as they are. "Ollie, one more thing..."

"What is it, Azzy?"

"Can you sing me a song?" She requests, sheepish. A small smile graces his face, one which she returns, if only barely.

"Of course." He clears his throat once more.

"'Neath a faltered sky; cross loamless plains, and watered blight.

Ah! Where gone those days, once Glory shone so bright?

Fallen 'neath baleful wings dark as night.

Ah! A moment give to me. Hark! Shall none hear this soul's tale, Of a land, benight?" He serenades softly, weeping silently for the guardian angel.