There was once four clans of the Angels of Shadow, each one developing a different power for a battle that never seemed to come. One focused on magic for summoning creatures that the head created, and were headed by women that allowed no man with power to live in their protection. Another focused on forming the shadows into solid weapons that were just as dangerous as the Flaming Sword of Michael when crafted by a master. The last surviving clan focused on magic for stealth and ways to make the effects of their magic more powerful. The skills of the Traitors were forgotten, for it was dangerous to even acknowledge it ever existed in the first place.

Heaven has been unstable with the new creations such as the humans, some Angels believing that they will be replaced and never looked on as His golden creation ever again. The discontent led to fear, which led to whispers of rebellion, which didn’t bode well for those with power. It was decided that the Arch Angel Michael would take care of the traitors, and the Elements and their clans could take care of whatever survivors he left in his wake, most of which were children.

Some do live on, others die by their comrade’s hands that hold little to no mercy. The will to survive and not be labeled as a traitor themselves is strong in all the Elements, especially with Michael as their adversary. The Angels of Shadow were the only Element to suffer the loss of a clan, the other clans taking it upon themselves to settled any sign of uprising before it was heard by any of the spies or the Arch Angels themselves. Before the War of Heaven, the strife between the opposing sides begun well before Lucifer’s betrayal, well before the open protests of the other Angels sided with him.

He remembered the screaming, that was one thing he was sure that he would never forget. That and the scent of lavender all around him. He was never sure what made the air smell so sweet at that time, nor how much of it his mind hid from him to spare his sanity. He just remembered hiding, watching with muffled sobs as friends and family were slaughtered for no reason, and the figure surrounded by a golden aura stood in front of him and the others, fair blue eyes hardened and flaming sword in hand.

They were weak, all of them were, Michael knew this as he turned away. Hopefully, this sent the message for them not to follow in their comrade’s footsteps. He was ordered to cull no children, for their screams would shake Heaven to the core, not that he wanted to anyway. It was bad enough that he had to carry out this order, he was glad to spare who he could. However, this rebellion talk had to stop somewhere, and he was just the Arch Angel to do the job.

Why Lucifer wasn’t sent out was a mystery to him, since he was the favorite of them all. Then again, he was created for things like this, no matter how much he disliked it. At least the traitors were taken care of, and hopefully the children here didn’t try to avenge their parents, which was unlikely. If worse came to worse, their memory could be rewritten as it had before. This wasn’t the first time he had been called to keep the peace, and he was sure that it wouldn’t be the last either.

With the lack of older children, Vladamir guessed that unless he found a foster, his odds of survival were quickly dwindling. Those without a clan were usually allowed to slowly decay into the background, being either mad or destroying themselves into the bleakness of Oblivion. However, if there were those old enough to know the ways of the clan, to at least ensure survival even for a little while, the odds of some sanity being retained was somewhat higher. That was not the case, however, the oldest being himself, which wasn’t very old in Angel terms at all. If compared to a human age, his mentality would be no more than that of a six year old, if even that.

There was crying all around him, the tears of those even younger than him mixing with the running blood and the haze that the dead bodies were dissolving into. He knew that they wouldn’t survive for long, but he didn’t know where to go, where to take them. The others clans, they wouldn’t want to shelter a dead clan, one labeled as traitors, his parents had told him that many times. Even after they adopted Yasuo, a cast off from the Creature Clan since he was a male that inherited the power that only females were meant to have. Aqua eyes brightened at the thought of the Angel that took care of his brother before he had a home.

“Yasuo,” he yelled, trying to find the other Angel in the chaos that was the aftermath of the culling. “Where are you?”

“Vladdy,” a younger, shrill voice rose up, making him turn. Sairari! The little girl was blind, but gifted with foresight, but her power was no help to them at the moment. Especially since she wouldn’t be able to see where she was going. This just kept turning out to be worse and worse. “I can’t feel them! Where are they all? Papa…mama…they both disappeared! I watch their spirits disappear! Where did they go? Are they going to come back?”

She was covered in blood, thankfully not her own, her pastel blue robes tattered and torn, white wings splattered like the rest of her. Pastel pink hair had a darker hue to it, drying brown splotches matching her oddly colored eyes that didn’t see the light of their world, but instead the light of a future that may never come to pass.

He grasped her tiny hand in his, and led her around the large room where children cried for their parents and older siblings that were too involved with whatever Michael was sent here to take care of. No, he wouldn’t lead them, he’d let them find their own way. After all, only the strongest survived after the fall of a clan, this was time to regroup, not time to mourn just yet. There would be time for that at the ceremony and that wouldn’t take place for another few days at least. He had to find Yasuo, and find a haven in case another clan got wind of this situation. He didn’t want to find out if the rumors that the other clans would kill the children of their own element if they felt the traitors endangered their own.

Angels were not to be known for their kindness, for they were warriors and would be expected to do such a thing. The strongest survived, that was the rule and he had to live by it now more than ever.

“Do you see Yasuo’s light,” he asked, keeping his eyes open for the other, even though it seemed the fog was getting thicker with every minute. This wasn’t good, since that could mean that the other clans were already moving in.

“It’s hiding,” Sairari said, hesitating in her steps a little while she looked for the familiar light. “In the back, underneath the dead. He thought Michael had come for him, but it seems that even I could not have seen this coming either.”

“Which direction,” Vladamir asked, flexing his wings. Silver in color, they had soft hues of powder blue in shadows and were peppered at the arcs. Very few Angels had pure white wings, especially those of the Angels of Shadow.

“Towards the back,” came the answer. “No one else is there, so it should be easy to just find him.”

Fighting back the urge to run, he felt a cold gust of wind enter the enclosure where the meeting was being held. That could only mean one thing. That Lucifer was ordered to finish the job, Azrael was ordered to do it, or those of the other clans had finally come to ensure their demise. Resisting the urge to look back to see which on of the three had entered, he tugged Sairari with more urgency towards the more secluded areas, hoping that Yasuo hadn’t moved.

“Vlad,” came the relieved call that had him looking to his side, into the face of his brother. Blood may not have related them, but they looked to each other as if it had. “They’re all dead, aren’t they? Did Michael come for me or them? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Vlad replied quietly, shivering when he heard a scream. “But this isn’t the time to figure it out! Who was the Angel that took care of you before mom and dad took you in? We’ve got to hurry!”

“The Arch Angel Raphael,” Yasuo answered quietly, looking around. “There’s an exit near here, lets just hope it’s one Angel doing the job and not another clan yet!”

Nodding, Vlad had a bit of trouble following the silver haired boy out of the building, the fog skewing his ability to see very well. He followed the slate gray wings, that stood out a little more in the fog. The fact that Yasuo wore gray robes didn’t help much either. He squeezed Sairari’s hand as they made their way to open air. They could fly away now, and be much harder targets. Such executions were best kept quiet, and not brought out into the open, things usually became messy if that happened.

The open air was refreshing to him, the bright light illuminating the Heavens as he spread his wings and took to the air, happy to be able to see Yasuo more clearly and constantly making sure that Sairari was close behind. She was a bit of a clumsy flyer, but at least she was able to. She had just learned how to fly, so he expected her to have a little trouble, but she was doing well so far. He just hoped that wherever Yasuo was leading them would be safe enough until the ceremony. After the ceremony, any hunts would have to be canceled and they would be able to breathe easier.

Glancing behind him, making sure that Sairari wasn’t to far behind, Vladamir could see the dome where he would never touch foot again without shuddering. He couldn’t think about revenge, for it was Michael who took out the initial order which meant that there was nothing to be done about it. At least he survived, which meant that he was one of the strong.

Azazel looked around the crowd, loosing Vlad when someone bumped into him and therefore, distracting him in a crucial moment and making him loose sight of the other Fallen. He looked around him, seeing nothing but a mob of mortals parting and having a good time. He didn't want to be alone here, he wanted to get out of here, get somewhere safe, and just brood for awhile. Michael was watching for him again, most likely looking for him and most likely intent on making them resume their 'fun'. Azazel shivered violently at the thought, turning down another street, looking for Vlad, but finding a bar instead.

"It's been so long," Azazel said, smelling the alcohol as if it were inviting him. While in Heaven, he had aquired a strong liking for it, and needed it just to get through the day. Michael's daily rapes and games broke him and made him an addict. He was lucky that he broke the habit before the trials however, or else Hell would have seen the wrath of a recovering alcoholic. He didn't realize that he had stepped inside until he had his familiar wine glass in hand and was downing it gingerly. That taste was so familiar, so nice, he took some of the money he found on the street and paid for the glass and left before he could get any more of the stuff in him, even if he wanted to drink a bottle or ten.

Vlad was running down the streets, looking for the lost Fallen, and coming up with nothing for his efforts. He had to find him before Michael could, because what he had witnessed in the cave meant that Azazel wasn't kidding when he said he couldn't escape when they first met. Those tears would be his reminder of how much he didn't know of what happened, and how much Azazel was fearful of the Angel. He wasn't going to let Michael win this, he couldn't. He was Azazel's boyfriend after all, and was rather intent on protecting the other as well as he could from the sadistic Angel.

He finally caught a glimpse of him, in a way he never wanted to see him. Azazel was sitting on a roof top, looking up towards the sky, a wine bottle in each hand. How he gotten them, Vlad would never know since either Azazel didn't want to tell or was too intoxicated to care. He carefully climbed up there, watching him take a large gulp and letting the empty bottle roll down the rooftop to only take another drink of the half full one. Vlad carefully approached, not knowing exactly what to do, nor what kind of state that Azazel was in.

"Isn't it funny," he heard the soft voice say, still looking up at the clear sky. "I think I finally escape, I finally found happiness and peace. Then I find out it was all a fraud. That I can't escape, and even this will eventually wear off. I'm always trying to make things better, but they never want to stay better..."

"Azazel," Vlad said softly, slowly taking the bottle out of his hand. "We can't stay here much longer. We have to go back to hell and tell them what Michael's doing..."

"It's so funny," Azazel said, laying down, still staring out at the blue sky. "Escape, I'll never find it."

He felt a chill run down his spine, looking up in the sky and seeing a figure flying above him. They had to move, now. "Azazel, he's found us. Come on..." He carefully helped the other stand up, trying to get a portal open so they could go, but it seemed that Azazel was in a fighting mood. "Azazel..."

"You'll just leave me alone with him again," Azazel grumbled, trying to struggle away. "it's better if I just lay there and be numb. Sometimes make a sound or two and wait for him to finish with me. It makes things easier."

"Azazel," Vlad growled, picking him up bridal style, Azazel struggling to get out.

"Let go," Azazel yelled. "I don't want this to hurt more than it has too!"

Vlad wouldn't hear it as he jumped in the portal he created, making it sure that it closed behind him. That was all he needed, another rapist in Hell.

*bop*

Michael landed on the rooftop, taking a swig of the half full wine bottle, he hummed. He could taste Azazel on it, could smell his scent, and it made him shiver. Yes, the next time, his little victim won't escape. He'd make him even more jaded, even more broken, even more his.

Beginnings Chapter 14: Sara's chapter
“Is this your new friend?” Michael continued, stepping forward. “He’s rather… interesting, I suppose.” The brunette sneered. “Interesting, but a waste of space. Though, I doubt something like you could do much better.” He nudged a booted foot between the two Fallen, frowning when Azazel refused to move. “Don’t be difficult,” he growled. “Anything I’ve done to you pales in comparison to what this rodent will do.”

Azazel’s will, and grip, slackened slightly, giving Michael enough room to maneuver him away from Vlad. He glanced at the sleeping Fallen. “He certainly is a sound sleeper, isn’t he.” Michael turned to Azazel, who scooted back. “I wonder just how much it takes to wake him.” He flicked his wrist and smiled when a familiar brown leather whip appeared. “It’s been too long since I’ve last used this.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Azazel murmured in reply, though he obviously was. “Just go away.”

Michael knelt over his outstretched body, pinning his hips to the ground. “But I came all this way to see you,” he said, running the whip along Azazel’s chest. His maddening grin widened at the blonde’s barely audible moan. “Can’t you see how much I’ve missed you?” He flicked the whip slightly, fully enjoying the small cry of pain. Michael opened Azazel’s robes to expose his leg and ran a hand along the pale thigh to his groin. “Let’s see how much you’ve missed me,” he hissed, kissing the terrified blonde.

- -

Deep in his dream, Vlad felt the presence of someone who didn’t belong in the cave. It took a moment to realize the threat, and another to finally wake, but the Fallen still wasn’t mentally prepared for what he was witnessing. He felt betrayed, but it quickly gave way to the pressing urge to save Azazel. “Hey!” he shouted at the angel. “Get off of him!”

Iridescent cream-colored wings shifted and the brunette turned his head but otherwise remained still. Vlad felt the anger well in him next. Just who was this guy anyway?! With a yell he barely heard, the Fallen lunged forward, tackling the Fallen and knocking him to the ground. There was a thud when the angel’s head hit a rock, but he glared at Vlad, chocolate eyes full of an emotion he didn’t recognize. “Who are you?” Vlad demanded. “What do you want?”

The angel didn’t respond. Odd chanting filled the cave, the speaker using words from both Angelic and Fallen languages. The two looked at Azazel who was standing upright. His robe was fixed correctly and he was staring at them, shock and horror dancing in his silver eyes. Vlad had enough sense to scramble out of the way just as Azazel finished the spell. He sprang from the angel, who burst into flame seconds later.

The angel shook himself, his wings tinkling like bells beneath the crackling fire, and laughed. “You forget who taught you to do that,” he said as flames fell from his body to disappear on the ground. His brown eyes focused on Azazel. “And now you’ve made me angry, pet.”

Vlad, despite his confusion, cast his own spell, sending violet ropes to wrap around the intruder. The angel struggled, but Vlad was confident the bindings would hold for the moment, so he grabbed Azazel and ran for the cave entrance. “Follow close behind me,” he hissed to the blonde. “You’ll get lost in the crowd if you don’t.”

Together, they flew down the hillside to the city and, ultimately, the large, lively rush of people. Vlad looked over his shoulder repeatedly to assure himself Azazel was still there before he plunged into the party and lost himself in the extravagant costumes and flamboyant humans. When he glanced at Azazel again, he stopped short, narrowly avoiding a collision with a float.

The blonde was nowhere to be seen.

"You know," Vlad said, standing in the middle of a rather crowded city filled with masks, beads, and all sorts of debauchery. "These humans know how to have a party. No wonder Lucifer is interesting in them, look at all this!"

"I don't think this is where I wanted to go," Azazel muttered, looking at the mortals around them, some with fake wings, others with so much jewelry and make up on that he couldn't tell if they were mortal or demon. "I wanted someplace quiet, peaceful, not all this racket..."

Vlad smirked, taking Azazel by the arm and led them both through the streets, looking for a quiet place that Azazel seemed to want. "The barriers must have messed with the location a bit," he said, dodging in and out of the swaying, mostly drunk crowd. "I'm sure once we get out of this city, we'll be able to find the quiet you want. I'm not sure if we can teleport or move through the shadows with all these people around though. Even with a majority of them intoxicated like this."

Azazel nodded, although Vlad wasn't looking at him but rather trying to lead them both out of the city. It took awhile, even the suburbs in this celebration and usually quiet homes were decorated and loud music poured into the streets. Azazel shifted his wings uneasily as they went through, not liking how the masks that he passed kept seeming to get odder and odder. The music on the streets, along with the crowd, was deafening after spending day after day in a mostly quiet and secluded cell.  Then there were the random beads and doubloons flying through the air, threatening to hit him on the head. He was happy when they finally made it out of the city, then he could fly and get out of the chaos.

The woods were much darker than the city, the moon casting a feeble glow to the land around them. Both he and Vlad were sitting on a freshly fallen tree, the distant lights twinkling in the distance and the faint murmur of the crowd and music drifting through the still and muggy night air. Even though it was winter, it was still warm and humid, Azazel thinking that they were at least near one large body of water, not knowing where he landed them not helping the situation. He really hated those barriers at the moment, a lot.

"It's much nicer out here," Vlad said, trying to strike up some conversation between them. "Not as much noise." He had no idea where he was, not being up here in a rather long time. He knew that the mortal realm changed at an alarming rate now, remembering the days where advancing was extremely slow and everything went by at a much slower time frame. However, things changed, as much as he hated to admit it. Sometimes, though, stealing a glance at Azazel, things changed for the better.

"Very much so," Azazel replied. "Although I must apologize for not knowing where we are. I guess those barriers were a bit better at messing up my final destination than I thought they did."

"At least you got us out of there," Vlad said dryly, standing on the tree, looking up at the midnight blue sky. "It's been so long since I seen the moon, or even the sky this bright of a blue. The stars, I've missed them for so very long, and the nice cool breeze, I haven't been up here in ages. Not since the Millennium Wars."

"You were around even back then," Azazel said in awe, watching the silver light of the moon take the black feathers, giving them a milky white sheen. It was rumored that a Fallen's true wing color could be seen in the light of the moon, and he was looks at Vlad's. Milky white with undertones of a deep navy blue, he had to admit, they were rather pretty to look at, however, he liked the black on crimson a bit better. It suited his job, his nature, all the things that he been through. Purity really was something the other left behind for corruption and it seemed that even now, he didn't regret it. "That was near the beginning of the creation of Hell..."

"I was a general," Vlad replied, continuing to look up at the sky. "But that's all past now, and I'm glad I can see the mortal realm again. Maybe we should find some mountains. We can hide out in them while we wait for the search to die down."

"Search," Azazel asked, snapping out of his staring, blushing and looking at the moss covered ground. "You mean they already started?"

"Most likely," Vlad grumbled. "I saw Yasuo as we were getting out of there. It won't be very long until they organize and send up parties and such. I suggest we get going if we're going to escape, and get going now."

Azazel stood up on the log next to Vlad, coming at least a head shorter than the other Fallen, spreading his white wings. In truth, he just wanted to gawk at him a little more, which made him want to ruffle his wings uneasily, but avoiding the action. It would give away his intentions and he couldn't have that. They barely had this relationship started, he didn't want to be caught staring at the other, didn't want to blush and be told how cute he was at any given moment, have his breath taken away by a sweet kiss. He still had his cautionary guards up. He was scared of any more intimacy than what they had, some touches here, a kiss there, maybe some holding, anything more would remind him of Michael. Or at least, that was his fears kept saying. He didn't want to think about Vlad that way, as an abusive rapist, of anything like that. 

"Lead the way," Azazel smiled. "You know where they'll look first."

Smiling, kissing Azazel lightly on the head, he acceded into the air, Azazel right behind him, not wanting to be caught and be forced back into Hell.

breaking up the scene/

Michael was boredly sipping his tea, watching the mortal realm for anything suspicious that Heaven should be concerned with. The Fallen had been rather quiet lately, which made him sigh once again. If they at least started some sort of trouble, he'd be able to lead an attack and kill a good portion of them off. Yawning, he wished that he hadn't passed Azazel's judgment so quickly. He missed his little toy, and knowing that he couldn't get him back really got on his nerves. Why had he listened to Heather again, even though he already knew how guilty she was of the whole situation.

Swirling his finger in the pool that shown the mortal realm, something of interest caught his eye. Yes, that was Azazel with a Fallen with him, flying side by side, looking as cheerful as ever, a little too cheerful for his tastes. Azazel looked a lot more beautiful in pain, being tortured by him for his own sick and twisted pleasure. Maybe he could still play with his toy, and with the Fallen that was with him as well. He recognized the other, but couldn't put a name to the face. He was sure he tried to kill the other at one point or another, not too worried about meeting the other prior to this. After all, the prospect of playing with his toy fall out ranked any other obstacle in his way.

"What do you find so amusing," Heather asked, sauntering her way into the room, looking at the image Michael was staring at so intently. "I don't understand your infatuation with him. He's a worthless cause that deserves to burn rather than one perfect such as I."

"He made a very good toy," Michael replied, gazing upon the pair, but focusing on the blond haired Fallen that shouldn't have Fell at all. "Besides, look how happy he looks, so carefree flying with the other Fallen. It seems that my old wounds have begun to heal. Now, don't you think that I should reopen them? It won't only hurt your dear brother, but the other Fallen as well. Happiness has no place with them."

"Very true," Heather sighed wistfully. "So, how do you plan we take care of this little happiness problem? Surely you have a plan in mind, Michael. Sometimes, I think you should have been the one to inherit Hell than Lucifer. You'd make a much more fitting king."

Michael just laughed at her comment, making Heather glare at him. She did not like being laughed at and the fact that it was Michael made it even worse. Turning in a huff, she left the room to go make her own plans for her little brother. It seemed that a family reunion was in order, and she was going to make sure it was a blast.

Michael watched Azazel play in the air with the other Fallen, both laughing and enjoying the night air under the moon. Humming happily, making his plans for what he'd do to his old toy when he caught up to him, Michael always liked the thrill of a hunt. He had a feeling, however, that he would have to hurry before Hell found them, since it seemed that they weren't supposed to be there. Fallen didn't come to the mortal realm to play around, they came for strict business and strict business only. That meant his game would be that much more fun.

breaking up the lines/

It was hours until Vlad allowed them to land on the heavily forested mountains and rest a little. The air was dryer, and much cooler he noticed as he shivered, wrapping his wings around himself. Azazel did the same, although coming closer to Vlad in hopes of sharing at least a little bit of body heat. There was also a sinking feeling that he was being watched, but just passed it off as his paranoia about having the other Fallen find them before they had a chance to hide or anything like that. He didn't want to go back to Hell, not yet. Besides, this fresh air was making Vlad relax, and he found that he was liking that very much.

"Where to now," Azazel asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the silence that had settled over them and the forest.

"There's a cave around here," Vlad replied, walking forward, wrapping an arm around Azazel and leading him away. "We should be safe there for a few days, but then we'll have to move again. But at least it's better than being locked in those stuff cells. And if you get mad at me, you can leave whenever you choose. You're not exactly obligated to stay with me."

Azazel looked at Vlad as the other led him through the forest, wondering exactly what the other meant by that. Sure, he knew that they'd eventually get into a scuffle, but everything seemed to be going well so far, each careful in their words, their actions towards one another. He couldn't fathom leaving him alone like this, both of them being chased around. At least this way they would be able to work together if they came up against a search party, and this would give them some valuable time to really get to know each other, depending on each other out here in the wilderness.

He stayed quiet the whole way to the cave Vlad was talking about, surprised that it was still here among the trees that obviously changed over the years. Maybe he had scouts out here to tell him where the caves were, or he made this one back in the war? Azazel had heard of that, Fallen, Angels, and the Dragons of Heaven and Hell all made magical caves to scout in, most of them destroyed by a few remaining in tact. It had seemed that Vlad had his own, which Azazel was thankful for at the moment.

"We're here," Vlad sighed in relief, stepping into the dark cavern, Azazel right behind, making a small ball of fire in his hands to light it up. "It's not much, but it'll do for now until we can get a proper hide out. I know a little valley where we can go, but it'll best to go out in the daylight. That way, we won't cause too much attention to ourselves tonight."

"Where are we going to be sleeping," Azazel asked, not seeing a bed but a small pillows and blankets. "There's nowhere near enough bedding for the two of us..."

"I'm sorry Azazel," Vlad said, hiding a joyous smile. "But we'll have to share a blanket for right now too. Although I should most likely just give it to you and use my wings. You are, after all, the more delicate of the two of us."

Sighing at the offhand comment, Azazel decided that sharing a blanket wouldn't be so bad since it'll be for only a night or two. However, he promised himself that if Vlad tried anything funny, the Fallen of Shadow was going to end up in a pillar of flames and be warm enough to never need a blanket again. Although, he highly doubted that it would really come down to that.  "I guess we can share," he finally said, laying down and getting himself comfortable. "However, try anything funny, Vlad, and you'll end up warmer than you'd ever want to be."

Shaking his head, laying down next to Azazel, putting his back up against his and pulling the blanket up over them, he grinned to the wall. "I won't try anything, Azazel. I told you before, when we agreed to share the cell, that I wouldn't do anything that made you uncomfortable besides a comment here or there because I don't know how to keep my mouth shut. I fully intend to keep my word."

"Mm hm," Azazel replied, drifting off to sleep, happy to be in the fresh cool air.

The next morning, Azazel slowly woke up in the rather warm and comfortable embrace of another body, humming happily as he felt his wings meshed with another's, nuzzling into the warmth. The other body  shifted closer, the soft snoring never stopping, which Azazel had to snicker at. Opening a silver eye, he found himself snuggled in an embrace with Vlad, blushing at how close they were, and how much he liked being near the other. Taking in a deep breath, trying to steady his thoughts, he froze when he heard a familiar voice slice through the silence and serene morning. One he never wanted to hear again, nor wanted to be around. He clung to Vlad tighter, closing his eyes again, burying his head into the dark robes, but nothing could allow him to escape that grating voice.

"We meet again, Azazel," Michael purred, leaning in the cave entrance, smirk on his face as he watched Azazel try to escape him by clinging to the other Fallen. "It's been such a long time since we've seen each other. Miss me? Because I sure missed you."

Azazel didn't even notice he was trembling or crying, until he felt the robes underneath him become soaked in his tears.

Far as the two Fallen were concerned, the previous night was something to forget.  However, between the awkward silences and quick glances, the problem seemed to squeeze in at every possible moment.

Eventually, the silence became so deafening, Vlad yelled to keep from going insane. Azazel jumped, dropping the book he was reading on the floor in the process, and glared at Vlad. “Why,” he asked darkly, “did you yell? Are you trying to shed years off my after life?”

For the first time since he’d known the blonde, Vlad was a tad concerned for his existence. “It’s too quiet,” he replied, not allowing the small- and meaningless!- panic show. After all, he couldn’t let Azazel become full of himself.

The blonde’s expression was indefinable, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he resumed reading, perfectly content with ignoring Vlad once again.  “It’s usually quiet,” he commented a few minutes later. “Why should this bother you now?”

Usually, it’s a contented silence, Vlad mussed. “Because we really need to talk.” He didn’t want to talk. Naturally, he dreaded the conversation, but there was no help for it. If they didn’t resolve the issue, it would never be resolved and both could miss out on the best chance for happiness they had.

Azazel turned a page in his novel. “Alright,” he replied absently. “I’m listening. What do you want to talk about?”

“Last night.” Vlad didn’t wait for a reply before plowing into his explanation. If Azazel truly wanted to tune him out, it was the blonde’s choice. “Is this going to develop into something deeper,” he asked “or was it a one time thing?”

Azazel stilled, fingers gripping the edge of a page, prepared to flip it over, and focused his silver eyes on Vlad. “Would you like it to have been a one time thing?” His expression was guarded, as was his tone.

“No.. Yes. I don’t know.” Vlad wrung his hands together nervously and focused on the motions. “This is confusing,” he admitted. “You’re confusing. I didn’t think you’d want to see me in here again.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Azazel sounded so genuinely surprised, Vlad doubted the blonde was leading him on. “I wouldn’t avoid you over such a silly little thing. You’re my only friend in here.”

Vlad nodded, ignoring the tiny, angry voice in the back of his head. “Yes, but who knows what goes through your head sometimes. You could have sat in here after I left, plotting out ways to kill me for kissing you…” The statement sounded offensive, even to him, but he wasn’t sure if it was meant to be an insult.

Azazel chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “True,” he said at length. “I wasn’t, however. Killing you would land me in more trouble than I’m in now… That came out wrong.”

No more-so than his own statement. Vlad grinned, though he wasn’t sure why. Before he was aware of what he was doing, the Fallen had crossed the room and was kissing Azazel a second time.

Azazel was confused, stunned, and he couldn’t place the other feeling. Closing his eyes, he didn’t realize he did it  until he reopened them, to see Vlad just staring at him, questioning eyes searching him for something that he didn’t know about. Questioning him about something that he didn’t know the answer to.  He wish he knew what he wanted, what he kept putting off as an infatuation, could it be an actual yearning for love? To be loved again? Vlad wasn’t Michael, no one else was Michael, he’d have to make his mind realize that, even if his heart already knew.

While Azazel was having a revelation on what he wanted, Vlad could only be dumbfounded. Did just do it again? And did he like it, again? But there was one thing that he wasn’t going to repeat; he wasn’t going to run again.  He froze, he didn’t want Azazel to flip out, so no sudden movements, and he didn’t want to give the wrong impression that he didn’t want him around. Oh, Vlad wanted him around, just most likely not the way Azazel wanted him, as he expressed his desire to stay friends.  Well, he could leave it as friends with benefits, but knew that eventually, he’d want something more. Something he was sure, again, that Azazel didn’t want.

He had to break the silence, however, as they just stared at each other, trapped in their own thoughts, own worries, questioning their own desires. It was driving him insane, even when he said that the quiet wasn’t stifling, this time, it was.

“I guess you wanted a repeat,” Azazel blushed, looking away.

Unfortunately, Vlad took that as a rejection, but refused to move, and even refused to hide the pain from his eyes. “I see. I guess you didn’t.”

Azazel watched as Vlad began to move away. He froze, he didn’t know what he wanted to do, but he knew that he didn’t want Vlad to go.  Lurching forward, he took Vlad by the waist, refusing to let go. He didn’t want to be left alone again, he didn’t want to be trapped in his thoughts with no way to communicate with Vlad, to tell him what he’d be thinking. Given, he couldn’t bring himself to do it then, but he knew that eventually, he’d be able to.

He just needed to wait for eventually to come.

“Don’t go,” Azazel begged, gripping Vlad tighter. “Please, I don’t know what I want, just don’t go…I don’t want to be alone again…”

Sighing, Vlad looked down at the arms that held him, and decided to stay.  In all honesty, he didn’t want to be alone either, he wanted to be here. With him, and maybe work some of this out.

“I won’t leave you alone,” Vlad replied quietly, lightly stroking one of the hands that held on to him so desperately. “Because I really want to be with you Azazel. I’m tired of being alone too. I…just don’t want you to be taken away like the rest of them…”

Azazel wrapped his wings around them as his sat up, moving his arms to hold Vlad more securely rather then gripping him, and buried his face in his hair. No, Michael was never like this, Michael never did admit that he needed him. Didn’t admit the fact that he didn’t want to be alone. Vlad was different, things were going to turn out differently. They had to.

Taking a hand, tilting Vlad’s face back, this time, Azazel kissed him, putting more feeling into it then he ever did with his former abuser.
 

“Day… 465 of our captivity,” Azazel muttered, scrawling the words in the air above his head in flowing red letters. “No sign of life on the outside, but I remain hopeful.”

“We haven’t been here for 465 days,” Vlad commented. “More like two or three months.”

Azazel looked up at him. “Humor me,” he said. The blonde rolled over onto his stomach. Life had taken an interesting turn when Vlad moved into the cell officially, though they had to take turns sleeping on the bed. Azazel wasn’t quite ready to share. It was his turn to sleep on the floor, but Vlad had snuck some blankets and pillows in, so he was certain he had the more comfortable of the arrangements. “I wish they would let us out of here,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t try to blow you up again.”

Vlad looked at him and shook his head. “I would hope not. That isn’t why you’re down here though.”

Azazel smiled cheerfully. “I know. I don’t regret the attack, though.” He stared at the ceiling. “If there was a revolt or something, do you think they’d let us out?”

“Why in the world would you ask that?”

“We’ve been down here for a while. Kaggren is lucky I’m not putting serious thought into escaping.”

Vlad rolled his eyes. “Right. There’s a reason we use these cells for long term captivity.”

Azazel looked at him seriously. “You don’t think I could get out of here?” he asked, sitting up.

“No.”

The blonde thought for a moment. He then crossed his legs and began meditating. Vlad watched skeptically, but didn’t interfere. “When this doesn’t work,” he said, “I get the bed for the rest of our captivity.”

A silver eye opened and Azazel nodded before closing it again to refocus his energy. “Where do you want to go?” he asked, forming a ball of orange energy, which floated in the air in front of him.

“We can’t very well stay in Hell if we escape,” Vlad muttered. “How about…”

The ball of energy exploded before he could finish his sentence, sending Azazel colliding with the wall. The blonde righted himself, rubbing his head. “That was unexpected,” he slurred. “The wards are stronger than I thought.”

“Of course they are,” Vlad replied in an ‘I-told-you-so’ tone. “They’re meant to keep us in, not allow escape.”

Azazel nodded slowly before preparing the energy again. “I’ll simply have to try harder.”

Vlad looked at him like he was insane. “You’re going to try again? Didn’t you just learn a lesson?”

Azazel didn’t bother to respond. He sat silently, waiting until the barrier had calmed again and sent his fire coursing through the other magic. “We won’t have much time once I break through,” he said, grabbing Vlad’s robes and pulling him closer. “Maybe a few seconds, but teleportation doesn’t take too long. Now, where did you want to go again?”

Vlad sighed in resignation. “I don’t know. Somewhere in the human realm.”

“So many choices,” Azazel murmured. “I guess it’s up to me.” He took a deep breath. “Say goodbye to Hell.”

Orange flames flickered about him, but Vlad only felt a little warmer. The energy wrapped around the Fallen, enveloping them in a glowing force field before the room began to swim and Vlad felt himself drifting in and out of focus. The last thing he saw of the room was the door swinging open and a very surprised Yasuo staring as he disappeared.

Painting was a great way to ease the pains of life. With the brush in his hand, he felt the world would simply melt away. Slowly, a landscape began to take shape on the canvas as he smeared the paint around in delicate strokes, and he hummed cheerfully. Gold mixed with pink to create a fluffy cloud here, or the hinge of a gate.
 
“Not bad,” Vlad commented from his vintage point on the bed. “It looks almost real.”
 
Azazel stepped back and peered at his work with a scrutinizing eye. He tapped the brush against his pallet before resuming. “Almost?”
 
Vlad sighed. Clearly, It would take more than that to get on the other’s good side. “Sure. I feel like I could walk through the gate right now.”
 
The blonde blushed, but his smile practically lit up the room. “Thank you.”

Vlad nodded, though his companion couldn’t see it. “Where are you going to put it?”
 
Azazel hadn’t thought of that. He paused in his work to look around the room. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe above the bed or the desk.”
 
It reminded him of home, so putting it where he would always see it was a must.
 
Again, Vlad nodded. “Above the bed would be good. Then you can look at it before you go to sleep.”
 
This time, Azazel turned to him, surprise in his silver eyes. “I do believe you said something friendly.” He talked with a smile, however.
 
Vlad grinned as well, before snorting and the moment, whatever it had been, was gone. “I’m not an ass all the time.”
 
“Could have fooled me.”
 
He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or strike out at his companion. Every time he thought the Fallen was warming up, the blonde had to make a stupid comment and throw his hopes out the window.
 
- - Two Hours Later- -
 
Azazel hung the finished artwork on the wall and moved onto his next piece of canvas. Vlad, meanwhile, continued to stare at the painting. It did indeed look like he could walk across Heaven. It was exactly as he remembered his original homeland, with a touch of the artist spilled into the swirling patterns.
 
“Hey, Azazel.”
 
The blonde turned to him, allowing Vlad a quick glance at his next work. He wasn’t quite sure what the fuzzy image was supposed to be, but various shades of orange and red melded with black. “Yes?”
 
The Fallen of Shadow had given up all hope. He sacrificed his life to fate. Why it had taken so long to realize that, despite his odd quirks and his scathing tongue, Azazel was perfect? “Come here.”
 
Azazel looked concerned again. “Why? What’s wrong?”

He was half surprised that Azazel showed any bit of concern for him, but he guessed that they both would have formed some sort of a bond over the trying months that had passed them. Smiling reassuringly, Vlad instead sat next to Azazel, who was still looking at him with worry-stricken eyes.

“I just wanted to talk is all,” Vlad replied softly. “It's been so long since I Fell, I almost forgot what Heaven looked like.”

Taking a glance at the painting, Azazel, not for the first time, wondered how exactly long Vlad had been down here in Hell. He was given the impression that the Fallen of Shadows had been there much longer then even half of the others, but he was never given a number to put to it. Curiosity drove him to wonder, and give him the gall to ask.

“How long have you been down here,” Azazel asked in the same quiet tone. “I mean, I know you've been down here a long time, but really, how long?”

“Millennia,” Vlad replied. “I was part of the first group to Fall, and haven't seen Heaven since that day.”

“That's...” Azazel began, but not able to really finish as he looked away. It was much longer then he expected, and to think of all things Vlad had to have seen. Taking a quick glance at the journal, he wondered if Fate was trying to do something, maybe giving him a friend to talk to, to work things out with?

Taking in a deep breath, Vlad smiled, he always smiled. On the inside, he cringed. He felt a wall, larger then the one he was already trying to scale, being built up so that he couldn't get in easily. That's the way things seemed to keep happening over the past few weeks, he'd make some ground, trying to figure out things for himself and trying to read Azazel's signs, trying to see if Fate really was just toying with him. Yet with each wall he breached, there was one larger, one thicker, one that seemed impossible to cross. What the hell was he supposed to do?

Azazel didn't miss the pain or confusion that happened before the smile, he rarely missed things like that anymore. Michael had taught him to be sure not to miss the smaller things like that in case a flash of anger would show and would mean he would have to be prepared for a beating or something of the sort. Yet, Vlad didn't hide anger, he hid something much more devastating, something that could eat away at him until there was nothing yet but anger left; sorrow. Something stirred inside of him, something that wanted to help Vlad not to become the empty shell like he had, maybe even heal over some of his own still open wounds.

Deciding that maybe taking a chance this once wouldn't hurt him, he leaned on Vlad slightly, deciding that this wasn't so bad as the other casually wrapped a wing around him. Had he missed being in the presence of another, of being like this? At the moment, his answer was yes, however at any other time, he would have denied it up and down.

“I don't think I'll ever miss Heaven,” Azazel sighed, leaning more heavily into the embrace. “After what happened up there, I think I have a better chance here of becoming stronger and maybe even not getting raped day after day.”

“I'm not sure which one of us had it worse then,” Vlad replied, actually liking the the feel of Azazel leaning on him and he even allowed his wing, in no way their former glory, no longer the white with hues of violet that they once were, wrapped protectively around him. “The one who had their innocence denied, or the one who had it taken away.”

Azazel looked up at him curiously. Did he really think that? Or was it a trick again? A hole to fall into, to think that he was safe, to think he had found a kindred spirit, only to find out that it was a sham. Everything he believed in was a lie yet again, that he was meant to feel nothing but pain for another's pleasure.

He wanted to tempt Fate, he wanted to see if it was really just his imagination or he really found the perfect one, if he had found the other half he had been searching for. His first kiss was soft but anything but chaste. He was amazed that Azazel didn't fight it, didn't struggle or push away, but melted, something he didn't expect. If anything, he expected to be rejected, to look upon a repulsed look and never be able to go near him again. This all didn't seem right, yet it did all the same.

For Azazel, he wished that he'd never met Michel, that he'd at least saved himself for a moment such as this. He'd never shared such a soft kiss, it was like it was coaxing him out of his shell, making a promise that wouldn't be broken for anything less then death. However, the only question was that was Vlad a virgin or not, because damn, he knew how to win someone over with a kiss.

Breaking apart, Vlad and Azazel stared at each other in shock. What the hell just happened between them? Azazel began to turn a furious shade of red, and he could have sworn that he seen Vlad do the same. Separating them, Azazel sat on the bed, staring at Vlad who stared at him back on the floor, until he could have swore that Vlad had a film of sorrow in his eyes as he looked at the floor.

Getting up, he left without a word, leaving Azazel to wonder what happened. Looking at the unfinished painting, he had lost the desire to paint for now, and instead stared at the finished one. Heaven, it was supposed to be a place of beauty, wonder, hope, but he had found all of that in Hell. So what was Heaven to him then?

Looking up at the bare ceiling, he decided that figuring out that was something left for another time, since he had a slightly larger problem to deal with. Vlad had changed their fragile relationship, and drastically. Running a quivering hand through his hair, he wrapped himself up in a caccoon of his own wings, letting the frustration out in a flood of tears. Of Falling, of being betrayed, and some part happiness, for finally find something to have hope and believe in.

Vlad, however, laid on his own bed, wide eyed and refusing to let his frustrations out. He had promised long ago, after seeing Sairari die, after Falling himself, and after becoming top assassin, that he'd never cry again, that he'd become stronger, become better then he was before. However, his actions may have lost everything for him again, Azazel most likely never wanted to see him again, never wanted to have anything to do with him again, and that hurt. It hurt his cold heart, it hurt his promises of a future, and it hurt his head by thinking about it too much.

Curling up, refusing to give in, he instead forced himself to sleep, never realizing the tears escaping before he reached unconsciousness.

Mikali looked out the window yet again, watching the snowflakes fall as the wind tampered with their destined places on the window sill. It was still falling at a fast rate, the little house secluded from all of society because of the depth and the chill that had settled there as well. However, the fire in the fireplace made the room glow with a warm orange-red glow as the smell of burning rosewood brought a peace over the whole situation. Totally cut off from society, the power knocked out from the previous daylight hours, and no way to get out. This was hardly what Edward had promised him when he came to visit.

Of course, neither of them could have predicted the freak snowstorm that happened upon them, even that annoying, smiling, man in the box thing that could predict the weather seemed to be off this time on the total snow amounts. However, he had to admit that the time he had spent here wasn't a total waste. Even if they weren't able to go to the restraunt where Edward had wanted them to go, they still went for a short walk in the woods when the snow and wind seemed to taper off, enjoying the serenity that the snow seemed to bring until the wind picked up yet again and they had to turn back to the safety of the house.

Deciding that looking out the window was a waste of time, Mikali sat back down on the couch, tucking his sickly legs underneath him and tucking soft yet unruly black-violet hair behind an elven pointed ear. Medium blue eyes, much like the bright yet dulled hue of blue the darkening sky gets before the sun fully sets, flickered around the lightly furnished room, opting to watch the shadows on the floor dance on the red carpet with the light of the fire.

Sighing yet again, he heard soft footsteps, muted by the carpet and thick socks. He looked up at his boyfriend, who was carrying two mugs of steaming hot chocolate. Edward...the neko demon always seemed to be prepared for whatever seemed to happen to him, something he was thankful for. After all, the boy had enough firewood for the fireplace, old stove that didn't depend on gas nor electricity to function, and even had things like hot chocolate to enjoy during the heavy snowfall. Sometimes, Mikali wondered if he had some sort of foresight.

Setting both mugs on the table, Edward sat down next to him, wrapping his soft black tail around his waist, something Mikali had quickly become used to and welcomed. It meant that even if his younger brother was more popular, even if he did have almost everyone trying to woo him, or even kill him while he was just in the background, at least one person noticed him. One person cared enough to give him a second thought, one person didn't choose Miko over him, one person had the capacity to love him.

When the hell did he become so...fluffy?

He gladly snapped out of his thoughts on such girlish things as Edward handed him a steaming mug, a welcomed warmth from the chill that had settled around him. Sipping it, he found the flavor likable and smooth, much like every hot drink should be. Smiling, he leaned into the couch, finding it warmed and comfortable as they sat in front of the fire.

“How do you like it,” Ed asked, breaking the silence of the house.

“Better then you described it,” Mikali replied, leaning his head on Ed's shoulder. “You don't give yourself enough credit.”

Shrugging, black cat ears flicked in amusement from atop the golden haired, golden eyed beauty with a mechanical leg and arm, something that had always bothered Mikali. One shouldn't have to wear the mistakes forever, especially as deep as those were. Running a finger down the metal arm, Mikali marveled how he could tell the difference even under the heavy sweater. He had offered to fix it many times, and each time Edward had refused, saying that it was payment for a debt that he would never be able to pay.

He snickered at the sudden feeling of Edward nuzzling his hair, and began a soft, rhythmic purr that made Ed purr himself. Pulling a blanket from behind them, Mikali covered them both, banishing whatever chill there was between them, and Ed focused on drinking his cooling drink rather then cuddling for the moment.

A few hours later, as the wind died down and the snow became less and less heavy, Mikali slowly opened his eyes to see the dying embers of the fire and felt the warmth of Edward snuggled into his back as he slept. If he could have got up, he would have rekindled the fire, as the air became slightly more chilled. However, he was trapped by Edward's arm and tail, which held him close. Sighing contently, he pulled the blanket slightly higher, covering the both of them better and drifted back off to sleep which used to hold his perfect world. However, at that moment, his world was perfect, something his dreams could never compare to.

**in the chill of the morning**

Ears flicked at the sound of the furnace humming away, the air warmed with the heat it created. Opening an eye, he found himself buried in Mikali's hair, who slept peacefully in his loose embrace. Stretching, he sat up a little, reaching for the remote carefully as to find out if the electricity really had been turned back on or he was dreaming. The television came on, and he promptly turned it off, so not to disturb the sleeping shadow demon that lay beside him. Yawning, he allowed himself to stay on the couch a little longer, nuzzling back into the warmth.

It seemed that Mikali seemed to be waking up any, as he stretched himself and turned over, a rare unguarded smile gracing his features as he looked over Ed, who smiled back. They kissed softly, Mikali finding out that he liked this way of waking up. Purring softly, he snuggled his way into Ed's chest, enjoying the serenity of the early morning.

“Good morning to you too, koibito,” Ed smiled.

“Mmm hmm,” Mikali agreed happily.

“If you move I can start breakfast.”

“ 'm not hungry.”

“You just want to stay here.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Thinking that it wasn't, Ed held Mikali close, and ended up drifting off again, leaving Mikali to snicker quietly and thank Inara for such a perfect start to a day. Something he rarely received from his goddess in any form.