"Okay, kid, first thing's first," Cephi began, "What the hell were you doing in an alley that late at night?"

Well, nothing like jumping right into things. I had gone to find this man at his home, and he insisted on accompanying me to my apartment to ask the questions he had promised the day before. I brushed off the harsh phrasing and decided to merely focus on answering the questions as quickly and accurately as possible. Then maybe we could do more desirable thing. Like eat. I was going to cook us dinner.

I mumbled out a reply trying to keep my traitorous face from flushing.

"Speak up, I can't hear you," Cephi said a hint of humor not going unnoticed. I took a deep breath, prepared to be embarrassed.

"I said, I was looking for you," Oh God I can't believe I said that out loud. I turned my head away from him too embarrassed to meet his powerful gaze. I half expected him to get up and leave, but to my surprise he reached out a hand and gently guided me so that I was once again looking at him. I scrunched up my eyes tightly. That would show him.

"And why, praytell, would you be looking for me?" My eyes shot open to stare at him. His hand was still resting on my face and he seemed way too amused with the situation. He looked into my eyes, probably searching for an answer.

I had the urge to reach up and touch his hand. To… remove it from my face. But once my hand was placed on top of his, it was as if all thoughts left my brain.

I didn't want to move my hand. I didn't want him to let go. I decided I'd remove the hand from my face, but not let it go. So there we sat, not talking, holding hands in the middle of my kitchen. I expected him to pull his hand away, but he just let it rest there, under mine.

Guess I'm explaining things like this, "Well," I tried my hardest to collect my thoughts into a story that made sense and began to tell the man why I had been looking for him.

"Well, I guess I wanted to thank you, and all. You see, you're the reason I started painting again. I was looking into an alley the first time I saw you… and from there well, it just kind of escalated."

Cephi pulled his hand back from mine and ran it along the side of his jaw looking thoughtful. His eyes almost seemed to glaze over and he looked lost to the world. "The painting from the alley was for me wasn't it?"

"Yes. I… I came to give it to you. Was hoping you'd be in the alley w-when I got attacked..." God was this hard to talk about. "Attacked by v-vampires." Probably should have left that last bit off there.

                                                              ~HS~

"Vampires?" This kid was really something. Another thing he shouldn't know about.

"What you don't believe in them?" he asked sounding slightly offended. Cute. Cephi would have to remember to get him riled up more often.

"I'm just surprised you do," he told Allen quickly.

To his amusement the kid shot back, "Kind of hard not to when you were their late night snack." He folded his arms over his chest looking at Cephi crossly.

That's right. So the kid definitely believed in them. Well maybe he believed in other things too. Only one way to know for sure. "Do you believe in angels too?" He asked quietly.

The kid scoffed, "Angels? Don't be ridiculous. No, of course not."

Oh, well, it was worth a shot. Maybe with enough time Cephi would be able to make a believer out of him. But the kid just didn't know where to stop. "Although, I do find the tales of angels like Gabriel and Lucifer interesting. Especially the ones about Lucifer."

That was going too far. Even if the kid didn't know what he was… That was one thing Cephi just couldn't let go. Stories. He knew Gabriel. He knew Lucifer. Those stories were real. "Oh, you like stories of angels, do you?" Cephi asked somewhat bitterly. "Well I've got one for you."

Allen opened his mouth to object. Now was not the time for stories. But Cephi barreled right over his feeble attempts to stop the tale.

"There was an angel; some say the most beautiful out of all the heavenly beings with flaxen hair and the softest downy wings any had ever felt. He was truly a sight to behold." The man growled out the next part and Allen was glad he was no longer holding the man's hand. He feared it would have been crushed from how tightly he was clenching it. "It only made sense that through this angel the Father would make a horrible mistake that lead to the triumph of evil and a failing of good.

"Now, I'm not saying that heaven was overthrown or anything ridiculous like that. This happened on a smaller, some would say inconsequential scale, but it destroyed the lives of the good that it did affect, while the evil got away unharmed. This beautiful angel was blamed for an act of treachery by one of his kin. They said he killed another angel, but that angel had been his best friend. He would have never hurt him." Cephi said this with such emotion that Allen believed this tale to be personal. But that was impossible.

"As was the custom, the angel was sentenced to fall. Fall down to this horrible rock. And the one in charge of making sure he couldn't come back was the evil angel. Usually, the wings are removed cleanly from an angel's back it doesn't hurt, but they feel empty when it's over, like a part of them is missing. It is said to be a fate worse than death. But what they did to this angel. I think it was worse."

In spite of himself Allen found himself genuinely curious in knowing what happened to this angel. He asked in a hushed whisper, "What'd they do to him?"

"The sick bastard broke them with his bare hands. The pain was the most intense thing he had ever felt in his life and the noise of the delicate bones snapping sickened him just as much. His legs buckled under the immense pain. And as he was there vulnerable on the ground he was pushed. He fell to earth where he still lives today drowning in self pity and despair. Trying to think if there is any way to convince the creator that she made a mistake."

Allen's ears perked. "Wait. She?"

"Yes. God's a woman." He stated simply, as if it were common knowledge. "Anyway, he never did figure out a way to get back to heaven. So, resigning himself to his fate he traversed the planet in search of anyone that could help him. Nobody even noticed him. Those that did were shortly driven insane. Or worse, wanted to kill him." Predicting the question that Allen was poised and ready to ask Cephi interrupted his tale to say, "Plenty of people want to kill an angel. Most of them supernaturals that either hate them for being too good or the righteous ones that want to off the fallens, for daring to stray from the path of God. You can see why this angel has had it rough?"

Allen shook his head.

"Since his fall all those many years ago he has lead an extremely lonely existence. But he hasn't given up hope, and some newfound light in his life might be just what he needs to stop feeling sorry for himself." Cephi finished his story and just sat there waiting for some kind of reaction from the boy. Say something, he thought anything.

                                                        ~HS~

To say I was speechless after this story was an understatement. What do you say after such a depressing story? I was really impressed that he knew it by heart.

I looked over to Cephi to see him slumped forward in his chair hands on his face. He looked as if the story had ripped him a new one, and I wondered briefly if he was crying. Then a sentence came from out of his mouth that was so passionate my heart ached. "If she found it in her heart to offer forgiveness to Lucifer why couldn't she forgive him?"

I wasn't sure if I believed him. I mean, this was a story. A very depressing story, but still a story. But there was no way I was sharing my thought with him while he was in such a fragile emotional state. I got up from my seat and walked over to him, enveloping him in a hug.

He clutched at my shirt like a lifeline. Like it was the only thing tethering him to sanity. I held him, trying my best to comfort him as he sobbed into my shirt.

Then abruptly he stopped. "Sorry about that," he sniffled.

"You don't have to apologies for that. The story obviously means a great deal to you." I answered. If I were talking about the time a bully wrecked my favorite art project, I'd get teary too.

"So who's the angel you're talking about?" I just had to ask. The question had been smoldering for a while and I was afraid if I didn't ask it would turn into a full blown fire.

Cephi stood up and headed for the door. He opened it and right when it was about to shut said, "Cephirial."

Guess dinner was a no go then…