Improper Guardian

Chapter Seven

By: Brenli

She knew she was being stupid by leaving all by herself. She knew she ran too many risks walking around by herself as the sun set, its rays dying the sky gold, orange, and red.

It's just that Nema didn't care so much, anymore. She'd been beating up those strange cloaked men for a month, now, and this time, she had odd powers, to boot. She wasn't quite as worried as usual.

On top of that, she was sick of Michael. She could only take constant fighting for so long, and that was all he wanted to do. Beat stuff up. It was okay with her, so long as there was more to life than that. But there wasn't anything else. There hadn't been anything else for a full month and she wanted a vacation. Nema sighed. Maybe she really was just like all the other women, then…

"Are you alone this time, or is he hiding in the shadows, ready to pounce and surprise us all?"

Nema was familiar with the voice, by now. Cheriour approached her with his long black cloak and his blonde hair falling over his eyes. It didn't matter how often she saw him, she always felt like he was someone to fear. She remembered feeling the same once before… but that was a long time ago. Now that fear was back. She gave him a weak excuse for a confident smile and told him that he'd have to wait it out, but she wondered if Cheriour was somehow related to the last person to make her feel this frightened inside…

Cheriour flashed his cold smile. "… You are alone."

Nema's red eyes narrowed. "What, you think you're smart?"

"No, I just know how to call a bluff when it happens."

"I never BLUFFED, I just told you to wait it out."

"Oh, but your intentions were to make me think he is nearby. I'm glad he's not."

"Why, you think it'll be easier to try and take me down?" Nema scoffed.

"Who said I would need to try? I've done it before."

Nema arched a brow at him, swallowing the lump in her throat. Several other cloaked men had come out to stand beside Cheriour.

"… We have company." Cheriour regarding the approaching bodies of Michael and Raphael. "I would like to share with you, Nemaelle, a memory."

"I don't like reminiscing…" Nema hissed at him.

"Why? Is it always too painful?" Cheriour gave her another cold smile. "What are your thoughts on Easter?"

Michael could see Nema tense up. No one was making a motion to attack Nema just yet, so Michael held back. He could see Raphael tense up out of the corner of his eye, as well. "What the Hell is going on?" Michael asked the Wind Angel. Raphael didn't say anything.

"… Just… a damn holiday." Nema said weakly, sounding childish and pouty. She could no longer look directly at Cheriour.

"… I have a fun memory about Easter." Cheriour said coldly. "It is… a most delicious memory… involving a little bunny girl. Do you remember these…" He brought out a headband adorned with white rabbit ears and tossed them at Nema's feet. "… my little bunny girl?"

"FUCK YOU!" Nema kicked the rabbit ears back at him, but Cheriour dodged, letting the headband lodge itself into the metal pole of a streetlight.

"My, you've gotten stronger." Cheriour said simply. "It is a delectable memory for me… You don't seem so willing to look back on it fondly."

"I WILL NEVER LOOK BACK ON IT FONDLY!" Nema screamed, snarling at him. "… You… RAPED… me…!"

"So I did… Maybe that makes it all the more scrumptious for me, then." Cheriour smiled again.

Michael blinked rapidly upon hearing the word, 'rape.' Nema had been raped? It was hard to swallow. He looked to Raphael for confirmation, and, to his dismay, Raphael gave Michael a slow nod.

"It's terrible…"

The Fire Angel shot Cheriour a fiery gaze to have it met with an icy one.

"… So, so terrible… that no one… was there to save her."

Both Michael and Nema reacted in an explosion of hate, rushing at Cheriour. The cloaked men around Cheriour immediately pressed forth, and Michael was quick to burn them down. What threw Michael off was that their heads had also exploded… He could only assume that it was Nema's doing.

Cheriour was simply sending out more and more cloaked servants of his, maintaining his cold smile. "… My, the little bunny girl is truly a Rabbit, after all…!"

"SHUT UP! BE FUCKING BRAVE! FIGHT US YOURSELF!" It was Michael, and not Nema, that said this.

"But that isn't fun to me… Oh. Oh my." Cheriour said this coldly as well as he watched a flood of black cloaked men stagger out from their chosen hiding places, cradling their heads until they exploded as well. "… Well it seems Nemaelle's taken my fun right out of it…"

Nema was standing several paces behind Michael and sneering at Cheriour. "Go away…" The cold smile made Nema want to vomit. "GO AWAY!" She screamed.

"Well, she seems to have had enough for today…" Cheriour sighed as though it had all ended too early, and after dodging several slashes on Michael's sword, he left, leaving behind his dead men.

Michael did the usual burning of the bodies. Raphael did the usual blowing away of the ashes. Nema just stood there.

After a moment, Raphael coughed. "Nema?"

She looked over her shoulder at the two Angels. Her mouth was pursed into a tight pout in some kind of attempt at keeping her from frowning, and her red eyes shined with carefully restrained tears and with anger. Her cheeks had gone bright red in shame, but she stared at them both, not knowing what they would say, but knowing she wasn't really prepared for any response from them.

"… Michael will take you home, now." Raphael gave her a small bow and left them.

Michael wanted to stab Raphael for leaving him with Nema like that. What was he supposed to say to her? 'Well bitch, let's go home?' He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't think of anything to say.

"Yeah, it's not so fucking easy to pick a fight, is it, asshole?" Nema hissed, stomping up to him. "Well I don't need your fucking pity! So you can just swallow all of it and keep fucking fighting with me!" She gave him a rough shove, filled with rage, watching Michael stumble back and stay that distance away from her. "I guess I'm just so fucking DISGUSTING now, right? Does it make you sick to know you used to smack this body around? You need to go home and wash it all off of your hands? Fine, let's go!"

She stomped off, leaving Michael to follow her, clenching his fists tightly and trying to restrain himself. He wasn't sure what he was angry at, but he felt it running through his veins. Maybe he was mad at a whole bunch of things all rolled up together…

Nema was still screaming as they hurried home. "… If it's not one thing it's the other! Poor little albino girl, poor little rape victim! Yeah, poor me! … Force feeding me your damn scraps of pity! I don't want 'em! … Just trying to make yourselves feel better by saying you care! I'm not here to make you feel better!"

Michael grit his teeth as he felt himself get closer to the breaking point. Streetlights were popping as Nema passed them.

"… Then there's the assholes like YOU that try and step all over me! Guess it gives you a high, doesn't it, Michael-SAMA! Guess that's the biggest plus to having to sit here and guard me, right? So long as you keep everyone else from hurting me, you can go ahead and treat me like SHIT, and it's justified 'cause you killed people for me!"

"Okay, you know what, Nema?" Michael sped up and blocked her path. "I don't need to hear that shit coming out of your mouth!"

"Is it STILL all about you? Gomen, gomen!" She didn't sound in the least bit sorry. "I'll return to my damn spot and let you pick fights with me 'cause I'm paler than you and weaker than you and shorter than you and just some DAMN woman who CRIES all the time and I guess I have NO REASON to CRY or feel SAD at all!"

"NEMA!" Michael raised his hand and delivered a strong, sharp slap. Nema didn't know that during most of their fights, Michael purposely restrained himself to keep from dishing out any truly serious pain, but this time he wasn't quite so careful. He was sure a blow like that could make most humans fall over… but Nema was no human, was she? She maintained her balance, but her face was forced to the side. She was frozen for that moment, and the only thing moving was the drop of blood that escaped the corner of her mouth. Michael ignored the fact that the next three streetlights had already popped, now, and moved aside the ivory curtain of hair that fell like a shield over her face.

Nema was crying now, the watery drops flowing from closed eyes. Michael felt even more angry, but it was less at her and more at himself, now. Or maybe just the situation in general. Maybe he was simply mad about that. "Oh, what… No… stop that…!" He despised the situation entirely. It didn't feel right to have Nema crying like this, but what could he do to make her stop? What could Michael, fiery and reckless, possibly do? "Nema… Ah, dammit…!"

He propped his sword against the streetlight and embraced her. It was the weirdest thing in the world to him. Sure, he'd hugged things before… It just never… was in an attempt to comfort someone else. Her body tensed up in his arms. Nema obviously didn't find this situation normal, either, but Michael didn't let her go, feeling the wetness of tears on his warm, bare skin. 'This is as FAR as I go, Raphael…!' He thought to himself. He wasn't gonna say anything, at least not then. It would've been too much like Raphael and less like him. He would've had to vomit if he tried SAYING something sweet, too!

Nema was pressed up against him, but she felt like she was far away right now. What was this? Michael being COMFORTING? … That was POSSIBLE? She almost wanted to pull away… but only almost. His skin was warm, warmer than most people's, but it was by no means uncomfortable to her. If she wasn't afraid of the chance that he would decide to verbally lash out at her, she would've liked to melt into this embrace. It would have been a nice mini-vacation. A moment locked into the safe arms of her protector…

She felt his chin rest itself against her head, heard a sigh escape him. It was quiet, but long. Was he bored with holding her, or was that a sigh of sadness? She wanted to believe that he honestly felt bad for her. It would have been pity, she knew that and hated that… but at the same time, she wouldn't have minded seeing that come from HIM. It would've made him feel like more of a guardian than he claimed to be. Nema felt braver and let her arms move up his back, her fingers wrinkling the black fabric of his unbuttoned shirt. It was Michael's turn to tense up, but he still wouldn't let go.

Michael watched a pair of small, black wings stretch from Nema's back. They were small for now… Michael knew that with time they'd become big and broad, strong wings that would label her an Angel, though a Fallen one. A few of the feathers got caught in the wind and were brought away from them. The feathers flew by Raphael, who hadn't completely left yet. The Wind Angel was staring at them with a small, sad smile on his face.

Michael liked to tease him, but he was no fool. Ever since Raphael had recuperated from his fight with Michael, Raphael had made no motions to sleep with anyone, save the few kisses on Barbiel's cheek that he'd let slip around the right people. Raphael had become a better man. Michael opened his mouth to say something, but Raphael shook his head.

Raphael was sad, not because Nema had no interest in him, but because Nema had never been watched over. Nema had been raped. Events like that would have completely justified physical intervention on Michael's part, though most Guardian Angels choose to try and lead their Guarded away from harm or help with coping. And to be raped by an Angel… something like that would have called for immediate intervention. It actually would have been something so simple to stop. It would have saved years of pain and emotional scarring, and it would have been easy to prevent, but Michael had been too lazy to even blink in her general direction. That was what made Raphael sad… it made Michael… not sad, but…

Well… so he was disappointed in himself. It didn't have to be labeled as 'sadness.' Michael was never that emotional.

Raphael was gone, now. Michael was pretty sure he'd left for the rest of the night, now, and Nema was no longer shaking in tears. The Fire Angel loosened his grip and let Nema fall away from him. She was no longer crying, but she did not look any less sad. "… Feel okay?"

Nema rubbed away the blood at the corner of her mouth and shrugged.

"… Let's go home." It was silent the whole way back to Nema's house because Michael didn't know what to say and Nema just didn't care whether or not they spoke. They moved slowly, and the stars were out when they finally got back. Nothing else exploded on the way home or inside the home.

Still they were silent. Nema untied her mini-crown and took off her boots, settling under her blankets dressed as she was. Michael sat on his mass of blankets and rested his back against her mattress, watching her pale hand go through a little box by her alarm clock and pulling out a rosary. It was made of white beads that shined in the moonlight, something exquisitely beautiful. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she twisted it about her fingers and then pulled it out of his line of vision. "… Thought you weren't religious." He said gruffly.

"… I'm not…" Nema's voice sounded tired. She allowed the moment of silence to stretch out as she stared at the white beads wrapped around her white hand before she spoke again. "… Hey, Michael?"

Michael's shoulders stiffened. He'd thought she'd fallen asleep and had taken to examining his sword, again. "… Yeah?"

"… Do wanna know what's weird?"

"… Do I have a choice, or are you gonna tell me, anyway?"

Michael heard Nema laugh softly. "I'm gonna tell you, anyway… When I was little… Mom and Dad were trying to raise me religiously… But it was different… 'Cause they told me that sometimes Heaven is the one that's cruel and Hell isn't as bad as people make it up to be… They told me to believe, but not to be biased, like everyone else."

"Hmm." Michael said, nodding.

"… Mom liked to say that I have a Guardian Angel… That no matter what anyone says, I have just as much a right as the next person to be protected from harm."

"… Hmm." Michael had put his sword under Nema's bed, now.

"I used to take this rosary and pray so BAD that my Angel would make everything okay for me… Even if I didn't have my rosary, if I was in a bind, I'd hope to God that my Angel would make things all right…" Nema could see Michael's jaw line set and firm in the moonlight. "… My Angel never came for me."

Michael couldn't believe he was sitting here listening to this…! He didn't need to hear anything more about how he'd been irresponsible and ruined Nema's life! He got the point, already! WHY was God DOING this to him? "... Yeah?"

"… Yeah. But… if I ever was in trouble for something… I'd wind up calling for my Angel, again. When I was being… raped… I was calling for my Angel… I was calling so BAD…!" Nema voice choked up, and she had to pause. "I don't know why… I keep trying… but I do keep trying."

"… That's good."

"You really think so?"

"If it keeps you going it can't be a bad thing, now can it?"

Nema felt a small smile curl her lips. She let the beads of her rosary twist about her fingers. "… Do you think I have a Guardian Angel, then?"

This was too painful… Michael would rather get something lodged into his chest then have this kind of internal agony! "Feh! I know you have one!"

"… Then why does my Angel never respond to me?"

"I don't know, 'cause he's been a dumbass, I guess!" Michael snapped.

"What makes you think my Angel is a guy?"

Nema watched Michael's head whip around to stare at her with blue-green, annoyed eyes. "Why WOULDN'T he be a guy?"

She blinked at him with wide eyes. "Okay, okay, he's a guy!"

Michael settled turned his head back around to stare at nothing. He felt better staring at nothing than staring at Nema. "… You know what, Nema?"

"Nani?"

"… So you've got a lot of shit in your life… I mean, do you think one of problems with that is that you just take a lot of it in?" Nema was silent, so he continued. "… I mean, I know you're a bitch, but you take a lot of my shit and don't say anything. So are you like that with everyone else?"

"Sometimes…"

"So maybe that's one time too many… I mean, a lot of it's 'cause your parents are related and you're albino. That's not any of their damn business, anyway, you know…! You should…" Michael beat his fist into his palm, "BEAT that into everyone."

The Fire Angel heard Nema let soft laughter escape her. "… Are you saying that I'm not angry enough?"

"Yeah, I guess… What's so funny?" Michael looked over his shoulder at her.

"All my life I've been told that I need to just sit down a chill; I have always been called the Angry Girl." Nema smiled at him. "You are the only person who's ever thought I was too soft."

"You've BEEN soft ever since I came around."

"I haven't had to be as angry. You keep all the trouble away." Nema rolled over, and Michael noticed a feather was stuck to her back. She was still clumsy with her wings, then, not entirely able to control them, and so the feathers didn't always leave with the actual wings. No wonder her bed had been full of them. But he knew she was doing more molting than normal… It meant that she was growing fast. A good sign at a time like this. Michael picked the feather off her back for her. "… Michael?"

"Yeah?"

"… Thank you."

Michael blinked at her. 'Thank me?' He turned and held the black feather against the light of the moon. "… Go to sleep."