Hey everybody! Here's the first chapter, and I hope you like it. I decided to totally revamp this one fic, and it turned into something completely different- this! So, I hope you like it. ///_^ Please review if you love it, hate it, or a little of both. In addition, this is shounen-ai. Very mild, but still, if you don't like the thought, one- you need to do some reflecting, and two- you need to click your little way on outta here. Thanks a bunch for deciding to read this! TTFN!!!

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The house was quiet. Matt slept, Spencer was watching TV in another room, and Mikey, along with Max and Robbie, read.

"Azrael, Angel of Death, has also been known to guard particularly troubled souls..." was all the young scholar could get through before his mind began to wander. A glimpse through the window gave no hope of outdoor activity, due to the bleak, rainy weather.

He sighed and ran a long-fingered hand through auburn locks looked at what Max was reading, a book called 'Mysteries of Love,' then took a peek at Robbie's book, entitled '101 Ways to Polish a Motorcycle.' With a sigh and yet another glance at the glum outdoors, he returned to his hefty tome filled with facts and folklore in relation to angels.

"Raziel, once upon the earth, turned into a purple chicken, according to farmer Joe Brownley..."

It may seem strange, especially regarding Mikey's neutral, masked personality, but he found the idea of angels very reassuring. It was comforting to believe that somewhere out there were beautiful creatures that took care of things when mortals could not. God didn't matter to Mikey, and he scoffed at the notion of any particular religion or belief system in general, but he liked to think that angels fit in anywhere. After all, who wouldn't want a divine guardian of their very own?

Finally that nothing was being accomplished, Mikey closed and put away his book to search for another activity. He wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a sandwich before settling into the sofa beside Spencer. Spencer's long auburn hair cascaded down his back. The TV was blaring some ancient soap opera, and while Spencer scarfed down junk food while watching with indigo goo-goo eyes, Mikey sighed and decided the best place to stay would be inside his own head.

'Look at that. Spencer acts just like none of this has ever happened. If there had been no attacks, if he had grown up with a family and home, and was just perfectly normal, he would be just the same. I might just be jealous of him.' Sigh. 'But I'm jealous of a lot of people. By god, I jealous of the old lady three blocks down because she has cats. I want cats! Why can't I have cat, is one little kitty too much to ask for? But nooooo... "A danger to the underground" they say. "What's the use?" they say. Well, I'll show them. I'll show them all! Mikey Yekim ~will~ get a cat someday!'

A maniacal glint in Mikey's eyes was all the change in expression he had exhibited in his little inner monologue, but he caught himself before he erupted into laughter eerily reminiscent of that belonging to mad scientists and other such crazy fools. And Mikey Yekim was most certainly not a crazy fool.

He wondered briefly how someone could seem so innocent, yet have the life the Spencer had experienced. Somehow the beauty seemed even more pure and naïve than Max, who had been raised by a lovingly overprotective billionaire. Yes, Spencer knew more and had gone through more things than the little blonde, but he passed through every hardship untainted. When he killed, no blood stained his hands. When he had lived on the streets, none of the dirt and pestilence clung to him as surely it would have to anyone else with a similar history. Mikey allowed himself a hint of a gentle smile.

Spencer's family had been killed in the attack against the Alliance. In the year 2057, a city had been established on the moon, claimed by a group of gay, bisexual, lesbian, transgender and GBLT-friendly people. They had come across a lot of adversity, but no major mishaps. Then in 2060 there was a group of people known as "Kuryzstoiuns" led by a man called Ginger who rose against the Alliance. There was much speculation that homophobic teasing against Ginger about his name had caused the turn in character.

When the attack came, no one had been expecting it. The Kuryzstoiuns gassed the Alliance, killing all but a small amount of the youth population. The boys in the house now, Matt, Spencer, Max, Robbie, and Mikey, were all victims of the attack, turning to guerrilla warfare to combat the KT, as they called the Kuryzstoiuns.

'Maybe that's why everybody loves him so much. Not that, erm, ~I~ love him. In that. Way. Nope, not me.' Mikey shook his head and sighed. Spencer groaned.

"Mikey, man, can you stop with your sighs? I mean, it's a rainy day, but dude, it's not the end of the world, okay?" He turned to look at the silent pilot, who was now staring at Spencer like he had never seen a human before. "Hey, you all right, Mikey? Mikey?"

Suddenly, Mikey leapt to his feet. "I-uh- I, well, I'm, um.I have ..get a Max! I mean- uh- a frog! Yes, that's it! A frog for Max!" and with that he sped into his own room. Spencer stared after his friend, bewildered.

"Well, that was highly disturbing." He muttered before turning back to the sitcom that had just come on.

'Oh my god! What am I doing? I just have to go and make a fool of myself, right in front of Spencer! He probably thinks I'm some damn idiot. Maybe it's better that way, if he hates me. Nonsense! Why would he hate me for being stupid? He could hate me what, wanting to screw him so hard he won't sit for week?! No, no, no! Which of course, means yes, yes, yes, if I'm honest with myself... And then I would stay for the rest of his life. Of course he'd hate me for lo- liking him. So...I won't tell him. I won't ever, ever tell him. And then...Perhaps Spencer can be happy. Yes. If it makes Spencer happy, I can keep it inside forever. Just...Don't tell him. Never, never...' Mikey's thoughts faded as he fell asleep, slumping onto the carpet where he sat.

Riiinnnnnnnnnggggggg!!!

Groan.

Riiinnnnnnnnnggggggg!!!

Growl.

Riiinnnnnnnnnggggggg!!!

"Hello?" Mikey mumbled blearily into the phone. He could hear Max's voice on the other side, but it was all static and he couldn't make out the words. "Max? Max, I can't hear you." But the noise just grew louder and louder. And it wasn't static. It was the sound of rain. The water began to leak out of the phone as Max continued, beseeching Mikey what? He couldn't hear anything but the rain.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

[leaking rain on the phone]

Mikey smiled a little as he thought of a line from one of Spencer's favorite songs.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

More and more water made its way out of the receiver, making a puddle on the hard wooden floor. Finally, Mikey hung up. He took a step away, but the phone rang again.

Riiinnnnnnnnnggggggg!!!

"Hello?" No rain this time. Just a voice. It was familiar, but Mikey couldn't place it.

"Mikey. Don't leave. Remember, Mikey, remember what I told you before..." The rain came back, streaming from the phone, coming through the open windows, leaking under the door. The moonlight reflected off the water that was quickly filling up the room. Mikey went to the door, and tried to open it, but he couldn't turn the handle. He tried again and again, and began pounding on the door frantically. He couldn't get out! The water finally submerged him and he couldn't breathe. He was suffocating! The water pressed in around him, crushing his slender frame...

"Mikey! Mikey!" Someone was shaking him. "Mikey, please wake up!" Finally, he opened his eyes to a blurry, too-bright world.

"Wh-What?" he croaked. Max smiled happily, with dimples in his cheeks and glowing hazel eyes.

"Oh, Mikey! You had a horrible nightmare. We tried to wake you up, but when Spencer dumped that bucket of water, you just thrashed around some more. We couldn't make you come around!" Mikey blinked stupidly as the smaller boy hugged him tightly.

"Umm...I'm gonna get back to my shower..." Said Spencer, walking off in a towel. Matt followed Spencer silently, nearly unnoticed. But Mikey saw, and it sent a pang of jealousy through him. In a flash of blinding rage, he shoved Max away and went after Matt. Suddenly he remembered...He couldn't tell.

'Don't tell anyone...never, never tell...' he reminded himself. Max, still tumbled awkwardly over, watched with pain-filled eyes as Mikey left.

Once he had escaped the room, Mikey stopped. What had he been thinking? Would he have followed Matt and Spencer into the shower? Or had he been planning to throw Matt into the wall and proclaim Spencer as his own? No, it had been a foolish tantrum brought on by his weak and selfish emotions. Mikey walked into his room, locked the door, and flopped down. He ran a hand through his hair, removing it from his face, and let his arms rest with palms towards the ceiling. The ceiling. That horrible, ugly ceiling. The blank ceiling, rough and cracked. A few mysterious brown stains that somewhat resembled those made by coffee marked the surface above, and the random hook for a potted plant or the like could be found. Near the wall, above Mikey's bed, there was a particularly nasty line which separated into different parts, like a spider's web.

'A spider's web. Yes, that's just what it is, and I'm my own spider. I'm my own death. Well, won't Spencer be surprised. Heh, under the assassin's own nose.'

Max's ear, pressed to the locked door of Mikey's room, caught a quiet chuckle. "Yeah. I'll just kill myself." Max's hand came up to his mouth and his eyebrows twisted upwards, and he hurried away to...wherever it was that he was supposed to be.

'And then what? Do I eat myself? Suck out my own insides? I can do that. Oh yes, just paralyze myself, turn my insides to mush, and suck it all out. Maybe I can split into two. But then, how do I make a web. Ah, yes! The angels can help me!' some soft giggles floated from the room as Mikey made little movements with his hands.

"I'm Azrael! I'm gonna take you away!" he squeaked, moving one hand in synch with his words.

"Well, I'm the Angel of Mysteries, and you can't do that!" shrilled the other hand. Abruptly the hands fell back to their owner's sides. He sighed.

"I'm going insane." And once more, he fell into a dream.

Riiinnnnnnnnnggggggg!!!

"Hello?" Mikey mumbled blearily into the phone. He could hear someone's voice on the other side, but it was all static and he couldn't hear anything. "Hello? Who is this? I can't hear you!" But the noise just grew louder and louder. And it wasn't static. It was the sound of rain. The water began to leak out of the phone as the voice continued, ordering Mikey to... to what? He couldn't hear anything but the rain.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

[leaking rain on the phone]

Mikey smiled a little as he thought of a line from one of Spencer's favorite songs.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The liquid leaked from cracks in the ceiling. But this time, it wasn't water. It was blood. Mikey could see his reflection, as again the room was flooded. He saw his face, and the faces of all he'd killed. But who was that, just behind him? Two of them, and they looked just like...Angels. Mikey relaxed. If there were angels here, it was okay. It was meant to be. Even as the thick blood smothered him, even as he knew he was dying, it would be okay, because the angels said so.

But he could feel himself being pulled out. 'No! No, this isn't what the angels want!' he tried to scream. But though his mouth was moving, no noise came out save the faint rasping of escaped air, and when he was clear of the blood, he saw that it was the two angels he had seen who had pulled him out, and when he looked down, there was clear water; so clear you could see the human bones lying at the bottom.

The angels smiled.

"Mikey... Wake up, Mikey. Your friends will be here soon." Mikey stirred. He didn't recognize the voice, a deep, soothing male voice. Another one spoke.

"Mikey, please? We can't stay unless you wake up before they get here." This voice had a lighter, more boyish quality to it.

"Time to get up, Mike-man!" shouted Spencer as he bounced around, opening Mikey's blinds. The previously sleeping boy groaned as he tried desperately to hang on to the comforting warmth and darkness that had surrounded him. But he couldn't, and it slipped through his fingers, along with the two angelic presences.

Finally, 'Mike-man' sat up, and groggily rubbed his eyes. Spencer was bending down right in front of Mikey. The afternoon light shone through the window, casting a golden aura around him that absolutely took Mikey's breath away.

"Hey, guess what? The rain finally stopped, and now it's sunny! Now you can stop moping, buddy, see? And since there's not a mission that any of us know of, we can go out and have a good time, except I don't know what to do 'cause it's been so long, ya know? But we'll find something; we always do. Hey, Tro! Maybe we can go tease Robbie! Or we can all see a movie! But I don't wanna go shopping. You know how horrible shopping is, right? Like when we took Matt to the mall..."

"No." Spencer stopped chattering.

"Huh?"

"No. I don't want to go out and do anything with you, Spencer." Growled Mikey.

"Well, jeeze, I know you aren't a morning person, but it's 4:00 pm! I dunno what your problem is, Tro, but you have to lighten up, man. You've been way gloomier than usual." Spencer peered at his friend concernedly. "You okay?"

Mikey was just going keep his mask of neutrality on and issue that standard 'Fine,' but for some reason it seemed like a good day to surprise someone. He glared venomously.

"No. I'm not okay. Just leave me the hell alone, Antysle." Spencer scrambled to his feet.

"Well, if you wanna talk..." he left. Mikey leaned back and dragged his hand down his face.

'Stupid! Even if he's better off without me...I don't need to be a jerk to him. He's probably got Matt anyway... Why would he want me? Even if I was the only one, and I told him, he would probably be disgusted. God, why do I do these things to myself?' groaned Mikey to himself.

"Because you're a self-deprecating masochist?" suggested a voice. That deep one from earlier!

"Ooh...a masochist. Kinky!" the boyish sing-song voice rang out. Startled, Mikey looked around.

"W-Who are you? Where are you?" he asked, looking about. Peals of silver- bell laughter rang through the tiny bedroom.

"Or maybe even...What are we?" suggested the deep voice.

"Angels!" chirped the other. "But, no one can see us, and only you can hear us. That's right, pretty-boy! You're special!"

"Raziel, you should be nicer to him. Call him Mikey!" the deep voice scolded the one now known as Raziel.

"But...But...Honey! Can't I have little fun? Mikey's not his real name anyway!

"I know dear, but neither is pretty-boy."

"Yeah, but he lost it before he deserved to wear it. So pretty-boy's better."

"Love, you're missing the point. Pretty-boy isn't something he likes to be referred to as. It reminds him of his past as a prostitute, and we know he's more than that."

"Is not! He tries to be human but the best he can do is steal a dead man's name! Pretty-boy is better than the name of a dead body! And besides, does someone who would do that deserve the respect of being called by their chosen name? I think not!"

"He's changed since then, Raziel. It wasn't really his fault anyway."

"Yeah, yeah. You just like him because he gives you work, Azrael."

"Now, darling, You're being a bit unfair."

"Yea, whatevah."

"Ahem. Why am I the only one able to hear the Angel of Mysteries and the Angel of Death and why are they arguing over what to call me? And, why are they here?" Mikey managed to ask all these before leaning back rather weakly. He was rather shocked, you know.

"Sore wa himitsu desu!" piped Raziel. A thump was heard.

"Damn mazoku..Influencing , to answer your question, Mikey-"

"Pretty-boy!" cheeped Raziel, sounding dazed.

"Mikey, we are here because you need our help. You see, something has gone terribly wrong in the balance of...uh...stuff. And we need to fix it for you."

"By deciding my name?" asked Mikey. Someone knocked on the door.

"Mikey? Who are you talking to?" asked Robbie.

"Uh- No one!" Stuttered Mikey. The angels giggled a little. Well, Raziel did, at least.

"You can just think to us, Mikey. We'll understand what you mean."

"Um...I mean..." he stopped. 'Uh. Right, balance of stuff? Angels came down here, directly to me, because I, all on my lonesome, screwed up they balance of stuff?"

"Umm...yeah." Mikey was sure he could sense a sheepish sort of nodding coming from the angels.

'Figures.' Of course, he ~would~ be the only one to completely throw off the universal balance. Single-handedly, he had probably just screwed about half the world's fate. Oh, well. It's not like it mattered; pretty-boy was nothing more than a whore, after all.'Oh, God.' Mikey thought, heaving a sigh as he buried his face into his hands.

'Who, now? Pretty-boy, you're not as smart as I thought. There is no God, hun. At least, not as you might think.' Came Raziel's voice from somewhere in the back of Mikey's mind. Mikey growled.

'I know that! It's just a... a figure of speech, okay? God!' he did it again. The angels were whispering, but Mikey couldn't understand what they were saying because they were too quiet.

Quite suddenly, the boy's stomach growled. Which was to be expected, as he'd not eaten since dinner the previous day.

Mikey headed downstairs to get some of the food he could smell cooking, and of course, the presence of the voices disappeared again. Once in the kitchen, Spencer greeted him cheerfully, and held out a plate filled with all sorts of delicious things...like mush... and glop... And really nicely fried red potatoes.

"I made Robbie help, so he did the potatoes." Said Spencer.

Ah, so that explained it.

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I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! And remember, please review. 'Cuz if ya do... *raises an eyebrow towards a closed bedroom door and nods in a perverted sort of way* Guess which two boys are in ~there.~

By the way, I don't own the Smashing Pumpkins or their songs or anything like that at all, and I'm not making any money for this. Thank you!

The song mentioned is Blank Page, by the Smashing Pumpkins, and is on their excellent album Adore. Tell someone you want it as a gift, for they shall be confused. Muahahaha!