Dallieh looked expectantly at the door. He was beginning to worry. It wasn’t like he thought Angel kept a certain routine; given his line of work, he knew that sometimes Angel’s schedule was dictated by the people he became involved with but... Angel had also been home at about the same time each night since Dallieh had known him. Now he scowled at the door and crinkled his nose, as if it was the door’s fault for locking Angel on the other side. It worked. He heard the key in the lock and his expression instantly changed. Angel opened the door only enough to let himself inside, as though if he opened it any further, some part of the night would follow him in. His hair was across his face. He lifted his chin and forced a smile.

“Hey D... sorry I’m so late.”

It was more than just his expression that had Dallieh across the room so quickly. His book was half off the table, precariously rocking even as his hands offered support and gently helped Angel towards the bed. He looked so tired. He looked as though someone had kept him up for ten days straight without coffee, and then made him watch horror movies and eat two buckets of candy corn, before sending him on his way alone in the streets to find his way home again. Angel was trying to hide his eyes. Dallieh sat him down and knelt in front of him without saying a single word. He didn’t make him look, but followed his eyes, before gently extending a hand towards his face. So careful was his touch, wiping away bits of makeup and smoothing away the pain that tried to hide in those delicate features.

He didn’t have much time. Dallieh’s eyes flicked to the window before he held both of Angel’s hands in his and stood. He knew the order of things. Angel would never sleep like that and he desperately needed to sleep. Something had happened. There was something different about this night when compared to all those that had come before. Dallieh drew him up and led him into the bathroom. He’d have to get those clothes off and get him into the shower quickly, or he wouldn’t have time to bring him back out to the bed, and feed him. Dallieh didn’t trust him to feed himself when he looked like this.

Without saying so much as a single word he began the arduous task of peeling Angel out of his clothes. He started carefully enough, but the more skin he revealed, the less careful he got. There were little abrasions on his skin. Not enough to bleed, but enough to tell him what they were. He knew how marks like those were made. A hand stopped him before he could dismantle the belt at Angel’s waist. Dallieh looked up. He looked so tired. His eyes were a muddy blue, as though he fought to even retain what little of himself he needed to remain standing.

“Don’t... you won’t like whatcha see.” Angel's voice cracked as he spoke. Fine if he wouldn’t like what he was going to see then he wouldn’t look. This had to happen.

He held Angel’s eyes with his and watched the color intensify as he shredded what was left of his clothes and threw them to the floor, so careful of the brittle skin beneath. He turned on the water, never once looking away from the colors that swirled in Angel’s eyes. Now it wasn’t muddy blue, but blue that was tainted by so many other colors as his hands blindly worked to bare him and get him clean. Dallieh held him there, just seeing that tired ageless face and nothing else. Only once Angel was in the shower did he look at what was left of his clothes. They had already been damaged anyway. The only thing that had kept them intact was the belt. His eyes strayed to the curtain where he could barely make out the warmth of his flesh. He could tell when Angel was almost done. He didn’t want to leave him in there alone, even for the short time it would take to grab him clothes. Instead he got a towel and waited. When he stepped out, Dallieh hid all of the things Angel didn’t want him to see, wrapping his body gently in the first towel before grabbing another and beginning to dry him. Once more he held his eyes so that Angel knew that he hadn’t looked.

He wiped the water from his cheeks so gently. What had happened that Angel didn’t even want him to see? Why did he have rope marks on his warm skin? Dallieh knew better than to ask. There were some things that Angel had to deal with himself, at least for now. Dallieh wouldn’t press him, unless it was life threatening which he didn’t sense.

He turned him around and did his best to dry his long hair before combing through it with his fingers, straightening it back out. A deep sigh. Maybe Angel was more himself. Dallieh turned him back around and took his face in his hands. His expression was still so lost even though there was the faintest taint of aqua in the swirl of his eyes. He couldn’t help it. He grabbed him pulling him into his body, cradling him in his arms so gently. He was afraid that whatever Angel didn’t want him to see, those parts, he would hurt if he held on too tight so he did his best to smooth himself into the man in his arms. One hand slinked around his back up under his shirt and grasped at him fiercely while the other crossed it, pulling him closer. Angel buried his head in his neck and just held on with everything he had as Dallieh smoothed his hair down his back and spoke so softly into his skin.

“It’s alright Angel. You’re home. It’s almost time for you to rest. It’s almost over.” Angel’s grip tightened.

“I don’t wantcha t’go. I don’t care if your’a bird. Just stay. Y’make it feel better.”

Dallieh’s brow furrowed. He nuzzled in closer and closed his eyes. “I... I won’t leave you Angel. I’ll stay.”

Angel felt like he’d been running. Like he’d been running for days and his body protested when he rolled to resettle himself on his side. He’d been dreaming. He’d been dreaming about the wind, but one that fought to free him. The gusts had torn at his bindings, somehow so destructive, crumbling stone and breaking wood, but unable to do the careful work required to untie him. How could something so strong not have hurt him? He opened his eyes when that feeling of the night did not leave his senses. It had been the night wind. Even bound, he somehow felt different. Somehow the pain had stopped and he could just wait, catch his breath, think about what he was going to do. His brow furrowed. Had it only been a dream? He thought he remembered arms around him and words that had no voice. What had they said, those words? It was becoming soft in his mind as black feathers came into focus. Free. It hit him like the sound of a crystal chime. The words said that he would be free. Somehow the nightmare had changed. He could still feel it, the wind in the darkness, something so indescribably gentle despite its strength... and a promise he had heard with some part of his being he had forgotten existed.

He reached forward and touched the feathers before bowing his forehead into the dark breast. Angel closed his eyes and breathed in. He smelled like the night. Dallieh moved, fluffing himself closer and lifting his head. Angel didn’t want to open his eyes. He just reached up and gently put his hand on the other side of the sleek black body. Wings rustled as he shifted again, flights settling over Angel’s hand as he curled in closer. He could feel the little face rub down across his hair. It was such a comfort. Why was it such a comfort?

“You changed it. You made it hurt less... don’t know how, but you did. I don’t wantcha to go. Somehow it’s easier when I know... you’re here.” He’d begun to mumble. He drifted back to sleep still whispering words that didn’t quite come out as more than just soft sounds in a breathy, quiet voice, into the darkness of so many ebon feathers. He didn’t dream again, he just curled tighter around the black ball in his arms.