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Broken Angels
Chapter One
Return to Earth

/-~*~-/

Cold yellow light filtered down from a guttering streetlamp, casting moving, eerie shadows
upon the sidewalk below. Appart from the occational flicker from the lamp or one of its dieing
neighbors, there seemed not to be a single thing moving in the chilly air.

Vapor rose in the cool air from the lips of a handsome boy. His deep green eyes seemed to
swim like mossy pools, ever so slightly hidden in the bangs of his dark blonde hair so that he
kept having to flick it away every now and then. He had high cheekbones and a perfectly
smooth, georgeous face. He seemed to be built without a flaw, perfectly slender and a
seriene beauty seemed to hang around every smooth curve of his body. The boy's back was
leaning against an old brick wall, the vapor from his breath curling around his lips for a
moment like smoke each time he breathed out before dissappearing into the cold air.

With a sigh he shoved his hands into the pockets of his faded black jeans that seemed to
be a size too big for him. His torso was covered by a black, long sleaved silk shirt that
tugged in the lightest of breezes. He did not seem to mind the chilly air at all. Another sigh
and then he pushed himself almost lazily away from the wall, his black boots making only
small sounds on the pavement as he walked.

There seemed to be something of sadness or perhaps mild anger that lingered in his eyes.
His face was distant, as though he were deep in thought, not paying much attention to where
he was walking. The only time he seemed to realize he was moving at all wasn't untill he
stopped at the sound of a voice.

"I've been looking for you." The tone of the voice was not threatening, but something more
like concern.

The handsome boy turned his green eyes towards the shadows, frowning slightly, in time to
see another man emerge. He was taller then the boy, but not by much. Seemingly unkempt
black hair feel almost to his shoulders and hid his eyes almost entirely from veiw. His eyes,
however, were sutch a shocking color of blue that they could been seen even through his
thick curtain of hair. He, like the boy, was also quite handsome, with a body build that was
pleasing to the eye, though a bit more steady built then the dark blonde. When he spoke,
his voice was still nearly lingering on concern, but it was deep and firm, a comforting sound.
"You left without saying anything."

"I don't have to tell you where I'm going all the time." The boy's voice, normally very smooth,
calm and almost timid, had an icy undertone that could match the cold night air.

Though his eyes were not wholy visible, the man blinked slightly, wondering why the boy
seemed to be upset. He had moved close enough to the boy that he reached out a hand
and layed it gently on the other's shoulder. "Is something wrong, Desmond?"

The blonde boy, Desmond, jerked his shoulder away from the other's touch, hissing "Don't."
Turning his green eyes down so that he did not have to see the look of surprise on the man's
face, Desmond released another slow sigh. "Look, Ethan.... I'm not in the mood, okay? I just
wanted to be alone."

Ethan still seemed slightly surprised by Desmond's sudden coldness, but he nodded slowly.
"Alright, Des." He said quietly. There was quiet for a moment, then Ethan turned and started
back down the allyway he had come from.

Desmond closed his eyes and listened to Ethan's footsteps. He waited untill he could hear
them no more before he opened his eyes again and carried forward, his eyes still downcast.
He hadn't ment to upset Ethan, but he was almost sure he had. He just... really needed to
be alone tonight. Just tonight.

It was hard to think about, but... tonight was something of an anniversary, one might say.
Was there another way of putting it, really? Tonight, exactly two hundred years ago,
Desmond was banned from heaven and his wings had been taken from him. Two hundred
years ago he had been cursed to forever walk this earth or spend an eternity in hell.

The fallen angel paused once more and again leaned his back against a brick wall in passing.
His eyes stared, blank and unseeing, at the dark pavement at his feet, the cold breeze tugging
his hair and shirt. Two hundred years....

Desmond slowly slid down the wall untill he was sitting, his green eyes now staring blankly
at his knees in front of him. The flash of a picture appeared in his mind's eye. A man with
blonde hair that fell to his shoulders. Steel grey, stilled eyes that held almost no emotion.
Fangs that were barred in a grin.

He closed his eyes tight and tried to block out the image with all his might. Instead, more
images of the man flashed through his mind like broken reels of tape that played over and
over again. Desmond brought his hands to his face, pressing his palms hard against his closed
eyes untill bursts of color interupted the darkness and the images faded. He waited a long
time, breathing slightly fast and waiting for it to calm, before he moved his hands away from
his face. He was mildly surprised to find that his hands and face were wet with tears, making
his eyes and cheeks burn slightly in the cold breeze.

The fallen angel rested his forehead against his knees and wrapped his arms around his legs,
blocking out the wind, enveloped in a blanket of silence as the nearest streatlamp to him
gave one last brave attempt to keep its yellowish light aglow, then flickered faintly and died.