Watching a loved one die can be the most horrendous feeling in your life. There’s no warmth in the rooms where you walk…there’s no happy smiles…just sympathetic ones. It’s like when your foot falls asleep, and there’s that awful feeling of complete numbness, but at the same time, all you can feel is the hot pricks of pain when you start to get feeling back.

For Hazel…that’s all he could feel.

He wasn’t allowed to leave the apartment. That was what Holly had told her older brother, and Chris, who had stayed behind to keep an eye on the dangerously silent angel. He wasn’t allowed to go to the hospital until news on what had happened to Drew was finalized.

All he knew was this; Drew had gone over to the mattress to take a short nap. A few hours after doing so, Hazel went to go wake him up, and discovered that Drew had another fever. He was breathing hard, and moving around a little in his sleep. Under his eyelids, his eyes worked fast, moving as if he was in deep REM sleep and couldn’t pull himself out. His mouth was open, and he was panting.

Terrified, Hazel had shaken Drew awake. Drew opened his eyes momentarily, and then passed out again. Hazel alerted the others with a scream of distress, and everyone gathered around to try and rouse Drew once more. Of course, Drew awoke momentarily only to make a soft moaning noise, then fell asleep again.

Taking his temperature, Chris discovered that he had a temperature that was sky rocketing past 100 degrees, and in Holly’s terror, she raced to call 911.

After that, it was a blur of lights and noise for Hazel. Drew was taken out of the apartment on a large white stretcher carried by two of the paramedics, Holly, Steve, Mark and Scott following. Chris and Oliver stayed behind to keep an eye on Hazel, since Holly had suggested they keep the angel away for a little bit, until they found out what was wrong.

Now…a couple of hours had past, and Hazel had not moved from his position near Chris’ cell phone. He kept a constant vigil; never leaving the cell for more than a few moments. Chris and Oliver attempted to play cards at the kitchen table, also unable to keep from squirming at the thought that Drew might not make it out of this mess alive.

“Hazel…Hazel are you hungry?” Oliver called to the lavender haired boy, attempting to distract the angel again with the promise of food. Hazel shook his head.

“No...no I’m not hungry.” Hazel murmured. His voice was soft, and saddened by the blow his heart had taken. It was heart breaking to hear, and Oliver and Chris looked at one another with saddened looks of their own.

There was no way around it. The group’s favorite friend was sick. Cynical, smart, sarcastic, loving Drew was sick. And it was safe to say….there was a possibility that he wouldn’t make it out of this alive.

0-0-0-0

I stared at the tree branch outside my window with a blank expression on my face. Slumped against the hospital pillows, an IV tied to one wrist, and dressed in a plain white dress gown with green markings tied around my body, and a blanket tucked around my waist. I didn’t acknowledge any movement around me. The nurse moving to replace the medicine pouch above me, hanging like a constant reminder to what was happening the me; Holly sitting at the end of the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest and staring continuously at the floor; all I acknowledged was the tree branch, and the little bird sitting perched on it’s snow covered branches.

I said nothing, because if I said something, it would break the constant silence, and remind me of what was happening.

The doctors said I had a severe case of Tuberculosis. Mulling around in my system for weeks, it had slowly gnawed at my body and immunities, until finally my body could no longer fight back. I was losing to a curable disease.

It made sense…when I thought about it.

Since before I even met Hazel, I experienced fatigue and weakness constantly. I didn’t eat right, and I was too skinny for what should have been the average weight and body mass for a person my age. Completely unaware, my body’s immune system fought to get rid of it, but my poor nutritional habits, and the fact I spent a great deal of time out in the cold, eventually my system lost, and Tuberculosis won.

Then, there was Hazel’s arrival. Along with the fatigue from the disease, I was constantly tired from making love with Hazel, and worrying about his well being in general. My worry led to constant throwing up. If I had been paying attention at all, I would have noticed the mixture of blood that was appearing in my bile. That in itself should have been a sure sign that I was dying, but of course…I didn’t pay attention.

My first fever was a very clear sign that tuberculosis was about to win over me. We all assumed it was just a regular fever of course, and ignored the fact that it had been my final warning sign.

I ignored all the signs, and in the end, it didn’t even matter. I was going to die, and there wasn’t anything the doctors could do about it.

Oh trust me, they tried. I was on at least 4 different antibiotics then. Nothing could strengthen my system enough to beat it however. They knew it, Holly knew it, Scott knew it, Mark and Steve knew it…and I knew it.

But of course, it wasn’t the dying that scared me. It was the fact that when I was gone…who would take care of Hazel? Who would love him as much as I had? I was scared after I was dead, life wouldn’t treat Hazel as fairly as it should have.

I knew I had been a terrible influence on the kid. But I didn’t regret any of it. My last weeks had been happy ones. I knew Holly and the others would try and help Hazel, but I couldn’t help wondering how he would take my death. Would he become depressed? Could angels become depressed? I didn’t know, but I knew that my death would probably scar the boy some way or another. It would be a harsh life lesson, and I felt a strong feeling of want, want to go back in time and stop myself from meeting Hazel, from saving him, so I could save him from this heartbreak.

I was jerked out of my thoughts then when Holly suddenly stood. Watching her solemnly, she smiled weakly at my expression.

“Scott needs me.” She said softly. I nodded, and she disappeared. Now alone, I let out a heavy sigh, and looked around my hospital room. I wish it didn’t look so white and cold…

Deciding to fill the silence with some noise, I reached over and grabbed the remote to the TV, and turned it on. I flipped through, completely unenthused to find something to watch, and settled eventually just stopped surfing, and settled onto a local station. A bright blonde smiling anchorwoman sat holding a microphone, and she was standing in front of one of a large rich looking building. People dressed in elegant finery were milling in, and limos were pulling up, and people were getting out. I blinked at the screen, and with some horror, realized that I had fallen on the broadcast showing what was happening at the Banquet Auction. I watched some people milling in for a moment, then sighed heavily and looked at the ceiling.

I was filled with the horrible feeling of guilt and horror once more. Malory would be after Hazel almost as soon as I passed away. Hazel wasn’t going to be able to live a normal life after I was gone. I completely blamed myself for his future pain, and I shut my eyes as I sat up, and pressed my palms to my eyes, attempting to rub away the tears that started to brim my lashes.

Everything caught up with me then. Hazel was going to be alone. Malory was going to win in the long run anyway, and my friends would soon forget about me. Hazel would be a fleeting memory to everyone, and his pain would continue on for as long as he lived. And of course, I couldn’t help him. I was going to die soon, and there was nothing I could do.

I jumped when the door to the hospital room reopened, and Holly appeared again, holding my cell phone in her hand with a little smile on her face.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” She asked softly. I was sick of people asking me that.

“Like a hundred bucks.” I growled. She didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Drew…” She said, her blue eyes terribly sad. I held up a hand gently to silence her.

“No. I’m fine Holly. What’s going on?” I asked. Sitting up in the first place had been an idea the doctors frowned upon, and it was then that I realized why. I gave a weak cough then, followed by another, then several more. Soon as I coughing so bad, it sounded like I was going to cough up a lung. Horrified, Holly raced over, picking up a bed pan next to my bed, and placed it in front of me as I coughed up blood. The two of us stared at the crimson substance at the bottom of the ugly pink bedpan, and then Holly started to tear up.

“Mike’s bringing Hazel over…he’ll be here in 15 minutes.” Holly whispered, then quickly excused herself out into the hallway again.

Stunned with the news, I stared after her. Mike? MIKE?! Asshole, gangster, I-don’t-have-a-nice-bone in my body?!

I waited until Holly left the room once more to react to the news. MIKE?! WITH HAZEL?! I didn’t trust it. I didn’t trust Mike as far as I could throw him.

And in the condition I was in? That wasn’t far. I scrambled off the bed, and snatched up my jeans.

0-0-0-0

Holly came back into Drew’s room 15 minutes later, there to inform him that Mike had called, saying they had hit some traffic, and would be a little late.

Holly stopped dead in her tracks. Drew’s bed was empty, the sheets hastily thrown aside, and the discarded IV needle and tub that delivered the medicine to Drew’s wrist hung limply next to the bed. His street clothes were gone.

“Oh my god…SCOOTT! SCOTT! HELP! HELP HE’S GONE!”

0-0-0-0

Hazel struggled violently.

“LEMME GO! LEMME GO!” He cried, attempting to kick Mike in the stomach, thrashing violently to get free. Of course his fighting was in vain, for Mike hardly felt him. Walking down the street, Mike strolled with casual determination written all over him, the look that an overconfident moron would have anyway. Of course, with a screaming Lilac haired angel thrown over one shoulder, it was becoming relatively difficult to stay cocky.

“Stop whining freak, I’ll MAKE you stop.” Mike growled.

“No! No lemme go Mike! Where are you taking me?!” Hazel cried.

“I SAID SHUT UP BRAT!” Mike roared, startling several people walking past with the sudden outburst. Mike smacked Hazel hard on the back, and then Hazel stilled, the wind knocked out of him.

His charge silenced for the time being, Mike picked up the pace until he was in the front o an outdoor outlet mall. A plain black limo waited in front of it, and a smirk erupted over Mike’s face. The back door opened, and he started to climb in.

However, Hazel had regained his senses by then, and knew that the last thing he should do was get into the car. He began to scream; hollering for help from the people sitting inside the little coffee shop. They all stared at him in bewilderment as Mike growled and lowered Hazel, and then swiftly punched him in the side of the head. Hazel flinched, and then went limp.

The boy finally immobilized, Mike slipped into the car easily, shutting the door behind him, and settling in for the calmer ride over to the museum. He smirked at the man sitting across from him, a man he recognized as Mr. Malory’s head body guard, but didn’t receive a sign of acknowledgement in return.

“Did you get it.” Jin asked, his phrase more of a statement than a question. Mike nodded, and gestured at Hazel, who was stretched unconscious on the seat beside him. Jin stared at him a long moment, his dark eyes going even darker, then turned to Mike, who was helping himself to some of the liquor in the limo.

“How long as he been out of the statue?” Jin asked. Mike shrugged.

“Couple of weeks I suspect…” Mike replied, taking a swig of vodka he had helped himself to. Jin said nothing for a moment.

“You were suppose to make sure he returned to the statue.”

“Yeah well I’ve been kinda busy. What’s the problem?! He’s right here! Just kill him or whatever and then be done with it.” Mike said. Jin glared.

“It cannot simply be finished from the barrel of a gun. This extraction takes time. However, yours will take no time at all.” Jin murmured, opening his jacket, and reaching into the inner pocket of it. Mike looked up from the rim of the glass of vodka.

“Hmm-“ Mike started, but never got to finish, as Jin lifted a long silver pistol, and pointed it straight at Mike’s forehead. There was a silencer on the gun, so as he pulled the trigger, there was hardly a sound. Save the sound of Mike’s grunt as the bullet drove into his scalp, and killed him instantly.

Placing the gun back into the inner pocket of his jacket, Jin leaned back in his seat and settled in to enjoy the rest of the ride to the museum, in the company of an angel, and a dead idiot.

0-0-0-0

The heavy pounding of footsteps and the sound of his own breathing was the only sound that filled Drew’s senses as he moved, sprinting down the street as fast as is feet could carry him. He didn’t have money, so catching a cab or the bus had immediately been out. He couldn’t count on his friends anymore to help him; they would try and force him back into the hospital, while Malory pulled Hazel farther and farther away from him.

His chest was on fire. He choked on his own coughs as he ran, weaving around people, and trying to block out the cramping in his legs as he headed for his destination; The New York Central Art Museum. The first place he found Hazel, the first time he ever laid eyes on Hazel’s statue, in all it’s golden finery.

He knew his tuberculosis was probably really enjoying this. He could feel it gnawing at his system; scarring his precious lungs as he sucked in each cold gulp of air. He didn’t care though, all his thoughts were on his beautiful angelic lover. With his pretty smile, and caring disposition, Drew tried to block out the tears that threatened to fall as he ran. A few tears did manage to slip from his eyes, and flew hurriedly into the air like glittery stars as he ran, sprinting through the cold New York night like a ghost that threatened to fade from existence.

0-0-0-0

Inside the auction, which was well under way, voices called out prices for various antiques and collectibles being held up, being sold for auction, then followed by the dull thud of a mallet as the item was sold, and then carted away to make room for the next item.

Sitting off to one side, still seated in his wheelchair, Malory waited with anticipation for his precious statue to appear on the podium. He was willing to sell everything for that statue. All his wealth…his riches. Everything. He craved that statue; needed it. Inside it was the only thing that would possibly keep him hidden from his elders, from the ones who hunted him. It was the finally step to his last boost of strength, and afterwards, he would be able to move freely for the rest of his exceptionally long life.

However, at the moment, he was slowly fading, losing his ability to hide. The ones he had taken before weren’t nearly as powerful as the ones inside his statue. He had drained the others of all their power, and in the end, it wasn’t nearly enough. He just needed those two, and he would be complete. He was like a druggie, who needed just one more hit to make himself feel strong again, to feel alive again. All would end after this one last drainage.

A beautiful antique mirror was removed from the altar then. The table at the front of the room had been emptied of mostly everything, save a few ivory candle sticks, covered with beautiful markings, and a long Egyptian cotton table cloth. There was nothing left, so where was his statue?

His answer came, when Jin appeared from down one of the hallways, heading towards the altar with a scowl on his face, as usual, and a small boy cradled in his arms, his hair a soft lavender color, and his eyes closed. Malory blinked at the two as Jin moved towards the altar, and as Malory watched, set the young boy upon it. Jin moved away from the altar as a confused murmur spread through the crowd of bidders, and he moved back towards his master, moving to stand behind him. Malory gestured for the body guard to come forward as the auctioneer stared at Jin in complete bewilderment.

“What is with the boy?” Malory growled through gritted teeth.

“Sir. That is Haze.” Jin said simply. Malory’s eyes widened from beneath the white cloth thrown over his head.

“He is the two?! He is my statue?” Malory cried, his voice rising in volume. Jin nodded solemnly.

“Sir. Apparently the seal was broken.” Jin replied. Malory stared at the altar once more.

“That is not the twins! That is a different one!”

“Sir…that was their temporary form.” Jin explained. Immediately Malory froze.

“Their temporary form. The boy is their statue.”

“I believe that’s correct.”

“Well. This is a slightly different change of events…” Malory purred, his hand disappearing into the hood to stroke his chin.

“No matter. Everything will go as planned.” Malory added. By this time, the bidders, and the auctioneer was beyond curious, and the auctioneer, a wirey old man with a thick grey goatee and dressed in a dark Armani suit, then spoke up.

“Sir? What is the meaning of this? Does this boy need a doctor?” he called out to Jin. Jin spoke up, a smirk appearing on his face.

“No sir. He is up for auction.” An immediate uproar tore through the crowd.

“But he’s a boy!” The man at the altar cried.

“No sir, he is not. You see, he is not of the human race.” Jin said, leaving his master’s side momentarily to approach Hazel’s unconscious form. He sat his limp for up carefully, and with ease, tore the boy’s shirt away. His back to his unknown audience, Jin ran a finger gently across the pale skin of his back, and immediately, his small white angel wings blossomed from his skin. Hazel slumped forward against Jin’s hand as the crowd gasped in surprise.

“An angel?!” A woman called out. Jin smiled.

“And not just any angel. A fallen one. We’ll start the bidding at…?” Jin turned back to the auctioneer, who looked uncertain for a moment, glancing at Malory, then back at Jin, before nodding.

“The opening price will be 1,000!” He cried. Immediately voices began to shout, calling out prices. The poor auctioneer struggled to keep up with the highest bidder. The chance to win their very own fallen angel. Jin let Hazel slump back onto the table, then returned to his master’s side. Malory just sat back in his chair, waiting.

Finally, the prices had skyrocketed so high, it was nearly impossible for some of the bidders to stay in. There were only 2 or three left, and even then, they began to fade as the price continued upwards. Then, finally, when the last bid was placed, and the auctioneer prepared to slam his mallet down and announce that the angel would now go to the highest bidder, Malory smirked under his hood.

“17 billion.” He called. All noise stopped. Surprised, all heads turned to Malory, who simply gazed out from under the hood.

“But…But Mr. Malory! That’s ALL of your money!” The auctioneer cried. Malory shrugged.

“It’s a lovely investment. Don’t you think? Now, crash that mallet like a good auctioneer, and lets get on with it.” Malory purred. The auctioneer bit his bottom lip, then nodded, raising the mallet to drop it. Once again, however, the highest bidder was beaten by something even higher.

The doors leading into the front hallway of the museum burst open. Pushing through them, a young boy of about 17 stood, breathing hard, coughing, and shaking from the cold. He wore a pair of jeans, and a black t-shirt. His feet were completely bare. Dark brown hair fell into his eyes as he gasped to breath, holding onto the doors for support, and slumped forward slightly as he stared straight up the aisle to the altar with an angry expression on his face.

“My life. I bid my life.” The boy gasped.

“What is this?! Guards! Reprimand that boy! We are trying to run a civilized auction here-“

“NO!” The boy shouted. He took a step forward, scaring some of the people sitting nearest him off, causing them to scurry away from him.

“Fuck you. Fuck all…of you. He is…A LITTLE BOY! Barely…sixteen! He’s not…a treasure….or something….you can put a price on. Civilized my fucking ASS.” The boy gasped, still staggering forwards, toward the altar. More people moved to get away from the sweat stricken boy.

“But…if you bastards think…you can put…a price on a little boy…who didn’t do ANYTHING…then…I’ll…bid all I have. Which…isn’t much. My life…” The boy said. The auctioneer stared at him, grasping the edges of the podium he stood behind as he finally reached the altar, and leaned heavily against it. The boy, stretched out on the altar, was his only concern now.

The brown haired boy cupped the smaller boys face in his hands.

“Hazel…Hazel please wake up…” He murmured, barely audible to the audience watching with baited breath behind him. Hazel mumbled softly, then his eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice. Slowly, it registered who the boy was above him, and the angel smiled sweetly, struggling to sit up. He pressed his forehead to the other boys, and nuzzled his nose with his.

“Drew…Drew I knew you’d save me…I knew it.” The angel whimpered. The boy called Drew wrapped his arms around the angel, and tugged him tightly into his embrace. It was then that Drew let the tears begin to fall.

Behind the two embracing, the audience watched with sympathetic smiles on their faces. A love this strong shouldn’t have been bid on by any amount of money. The angel had already found one he wanted to be with, and the entire room knew this.

Everyone knew it…but some just didn’t want to accept it.

“Well that’s all cute and dandy…but I made a bid. It’s too late now.” Malory called from his seat, ordering Jin to roll him forward so he could come into view. Drew turned his gaze away from Hazel’s beautiful blue eyes to glare at Malory, Hazel burying his face lovingly into his neck as he glared.

“Go fuck yourself Malory.” Drew snapped. Malory stared hard at Drew, and Drew stared with equal fierceness back. Then, a chuckle erupted from Malory, surprising Drew.

“So you’re willing to bid your life in place for sweet Hazel’s? Well, what would you do if you knew what that would mean.”

“ARE YOU STUPID?! THERES NO MORE BIDDING-“

Malory removed the sheet. The entire room of aristocrats burst into screams of terror, and immediately began to throw themselves into a riot, running for the doorways. The auctioneer disappeared too. Above the screaming and terror ripping through the air, Drew held Hazel close, staring at the reason Malory wore the sheet.

His eyes were red. He had no eyelids. And veins curled down the sides of his temples, slipping down his cheeks and stopped short of his mouth, nose and eyes. His slitted nostrils flared, almost snake like. His hair was long and white, a little curly wave even. His skin was tan. Black markings covered himself from the neck down. Markings of ancient text. Text that read in many different languages, though they all said the same thing.

Fear. Death. Destruction. Malory was as ugly as Hazel was beautiful.

Drew was facing down death himself. The bratty hell bound angel. The rebel. The vengeful.

Christian Malory was Lucifer.

“Still willing to bid your life for that wretched angel?” Lucifer purred, his voice thicker, dripping with venom and pain. Drew shivered at the sound. He stifled a weak cough then, glaring defiantly.

“You bet I would.”

Malory’s red eyes narrowed with amusement. He raised a hand, his nails longer, resembling yellowed talons now, and gestured with his fingers for Drew to approach. Drew didn’t move, so he added a little power to his gesture, and suddenly Drew found himself unable to control his legs anymore, and approach Lucifer slowly. Once he was directly in front of him, Malory breathed his rotten breath across Drew’s face, and Drew attempted to breathe. Hazel cried from the altar.

“NO! STOP LUCIFER! PLEASE-“

“Silence!” Lucifer roared, and Hazel flinched in terror. Burying his face in his hands, he couldn’t bear to watch as he knew what Lucifer planned to do. Take what was left of Drew’s life force and use it to strengthen his own.

No…no Drew…please I love Drew…please God…tell me what to do…Hazel whimpered in his thoughts, his eyes clenched closed.

Hazel…Hazel call us…

Wh-what? Who?

My little Hazel…call us…you know who we are…

Hazea? He heard the chuckle of the older angel’s thoughts in his mind.

Mhm…call us…

Hazel obeyed, closing his eyes and concentrating, trying to picture his other selves around him, smiling serenely like proud parents. He felt a heavy weight lift from his shoulders, like a great burden was being removed, and he opened his eyes to realize that his other forms really WERE standing before him. Hazel the first smiled happily, dressed in a simple white tunic, and tan pants. He had oversized, enormous silver wings erupting from his back. Beside him, Hazea was dressed in a darker, black tunic, and white pants. Similar silver wings were erupting from his back.

Slowly, Hazel the second’s signature sweet smile spread across his face.

“You came…” He murmured. His other selves smiled in unison and nodded. Then Hazea spun on his heel, a huge smile on his face.

“NOW WHERE ARE YA LUCIFER?! I HAVE UNFINISHED BUSINESS WITH YOU!” Hazea roared, and shot into the air as his darker opponent erupted into the air, huge black wings tearing from his back. Hazea followed, a brilliant silver sword appearing in his hands, and the two erupted into war cries and sword fighting in midair. Hazel the first watched with an amused smile on his face.

“Silly Hazea. So much blood lust…it’s amazing he’s even an angel.” Hazel the first said brightly. Hazel laughed softly, then remember Drew, and turned sharply. Drew still stood, looking perplexed at what had happened, and Hazel let out a cheer and jumped off the altar.

“DREW! DREW YOU’RE OKA-AAHHHHH!” Hazel screamed as Jin appeared suddenly, almost appearing in midair, and snatching Hazel around the middle. He pressed a silver dagger to his throat, and immediately Drew, and Hazel the first, who had been moving to save the little angel, froze.

“I’ll slit your throat right here if you don’t do what I say.” Jin snapped. Drew held up his hands in surrender. Hazel the first, simply smiled prettily.

“Why?” The simplistic angel asked, taking a tentative step forward. Jin pressed the dagger harder against Hazel’s throat, and Hazel whimpered.

“Drew…” He whimpered.

“It’s okay Hazel…hold on…we’ll save you…” Drew murmured. Hazel the first continue to smile prettily, batting his longish lashes at Jin, catching his attention, and holding it. Just then, a heavy heady scent filled the air, and Jin was caught up in the intoxicating scent Hazel the first was casting.

“Let Hazey gooo…” He encouraged.

“Let Hazey go…” Jin repeated, and released Hazel immediately. Drew dived in and snatched up Hazel, pulling him to him and putting his arms around Hazel’s shoulders, holding him possessively as Hazel the first continued to cast Jin under a deep hypnotizing spell.

“Now…leave…and go…learn how to be a security guard…at a little mall…in a little town…somewhere in Vermont…okay? You like guarding…right?” Hazel continued to coo. Jin nodded.

“Security…my duty…” He grumbled. Hazel the first smiled.

“Goood. Now go follow your dream!” Hazel cried cheerfully. And with that, Jin was gone. Drew and Hazel stared at Hazel in amazement, Drew still holding Hazel possessively, though his grip was slightly weaker. Drew was definitely beginning to fade, though he was struggling to keep it hidden, for Hazel the second’s sake.

“How did you do that?” Drew asked, blinking. Hazel the first gave a happy flouncing motion, and then batted his eyelashes.

“They didn’t promote me to Cherub for nothing.” Hazel the first said. He suddenly gave a tremendous yawn.

“Well…I gotta go…goodnight.” Hazel the first said cheerfully, then disappeared with a flash of lavender light. Drew and Hazel blinked at one another, almost completely speechless.

“I thought he was childish…”

“Well he’s the good twin…maybe he was hiding it…” Hazel replied. Drew nodded. Just then, an tremendous bang overhead alerted them to the fight going on between Lucifer, and his opponent Hazea. They yelped in unison as several chairs suddenly came crashing down to where they once stood, for they had moved in order to avoid getting crushed.

Watching the fight for a moment, Hazea seemed to be winning, considering Lucifer was moving at a much slower pace, and was panting slightly. Hazea hardly seemed even winded.

“Had enough Lucy?” Hazea cackled, ducking as Lucifer took a swing at his head.

“FUCK NO! I’LL SLICE YOU TO BITS AND THEN DEVOUR YOUR LITTLE FRIENDS OVER THERE!” Lucifer roared, taking another swing, this time nicking Hazea’s arm, and causing him to cry out as a deep wound was formed. Hazea spun in midair, avoiding another blow from Lucifer. He seemed to be enjoying the art of battle more than actually battling.

“Tsk tsk! Such a temper!” Hazea teased, diving as Lucifer threw a blast of what resembled a thick ball of black jelly at him. It hit the nearest wall, and proceeded to melt it.

“Knock it off Hazea! Finish him off will you?!” Drew called, coughing again. This time, the coughing consumed him, and he fell forward to his knees, Hazel attempting to support him as he coughed up a large amount of blood. Drew leaned against Hazel’s shoulder and groaned.

“We need to get you to a hospital…” Hazel said, his eyes filled with worry. Drew shook his head and attempted to stand.

“No…no I’m..ugh-“ He groaned, holding his chest as another wave of coughing took control. Hazel held him, looking helpless. He prayed to anybody that was listening, that this would end soon, so Drew could be taken to a hospital.

At that precise moment, however, the doors leading into the museum burst open once more, and Holly, Scott, Mark, Steve, Oliver and Chris came barreling through the doors, shouting Drew and Hazel’s name. They froze in horror at the mess before them. Tables everywhere, display cases shattered. The alter where the antiques once stood covered in blood from where Drew had begun hacking on again. Up in the air, Hazea and Lucifer were still fighting, the battle getting more heated, and more dangerous as more blood was drawn. Following the aisle up to where Drew and his angel sat, the group screamed in horror, and raced forward to help their friend.

“Drew! Drew are you alright?” Holly cried, reaching Drew first, and grabbing him and helping Hazel in assisting Drew to stand. Drew started to stand again, his brown hair over his face, hiding his eyes, and he nodded.

“I’m fine…I’m fine…I’ll be fine…” He groaned. It was obvious that he WASN’T fine. He was sickly in color; almost white. His eyes were clouded with pain, and his breathing was coming in ragged gasps. His entire body was shaking, and he didn’t look like he had much strength left to stand.

He leaned against his friends as they attempted to carry him safely out of the museum. But of course, there were more interruptions, and the doors opened once more.

This time, it was a young woman, dressed in a plain tan trench coat, and a red business suit beneath it. Her red heels clicked professionally on the floor as she crossed it, a frown on her beautiful face. Her lips were cherry red, and her eyes were brown, almost golden. Her skin was dark, like the color of mocha, and she walked right down into the middle of the museum’s front lobby, where they all were, and looking up, scowling.

“Lucifer.” She said simply. Her voice was strong, and sent a shiver through the group standing huddled together near the door, gazing at her with a look of awe.

Up in the air, Lucifer froze. Looking down slowly, his mouth straightened into a grim firm line, and his black sword disappeared. He floated to the ground, then landed before the woman.

“M…mother…” Lucifer nearly whimpered. Startled, the others stared at the evil demonic form that was Lucifer, wondering what kind of person could strike so much fear into the prince of darkness’ heart. Apparently…his mother.

“Lucifer I have been looking EVERYWHERE for you! You had me worried SICK. SICK!” The woman nearly shrieked. Malory flinched, then bowed his head.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” He whimpered.

“You are not. You thought you’d never get caught. Well you did. Damn you Lucifer.” The woman said, and with that, Lucifer was gone.

Looking up, Hazea nodded as Hazel gazed up at him, the only person not looking at the woman, and Hazea reentered Hazel’s body. Once that was settled, he turned to the woman.

“Satan.” He said simply. The others balked.

“SATAN?!” They all turned simultaneously to the woman dressed in red. She smiled, revealing a set of canines longer than that of an average tooth. She pressed a finger to her lips, and made a shushing sound. She then winked, and then disappeared.

Bewildered, the group of friends left standing, holding Drew, stared at the empty room, now empty of everything out of the ordinary, save for Hazel. Unable to properly comprehend everything that had happened, they all turned their attention to Drew, who was breathing shallowly, his lips chapped, and shivering dangerously. Chris immediately removed his coat, and slipped it around Drew’s shoulders, while Mark took off his own shoes, and put them on Drew’s feet. Holly tried to rouse Drew a little, though the delirious look on Drew’s face was nothing to be pleased about.

“Drew…Drew we’re going to take you back to the hospital now…okay?” Holly whispered. Drew shut his eyes momentarily, then smiled weakly.

“What are you talkin’ about…I’m as healthy as a horse…” He joked weakly. The others tried to smile, but it was hard. Drew’s body had taken a horrible strain, and it was obvious there wasn’t going to be any way that he would heal.

“Drew…?” Holly asked again, when she realized he was looking around weakly.

“Where’s…Hazel?” he asked softly. Holly looked around, and was shocked to realize the little angel was gone.

Setting Drew up on the altar, wrapping him up in all their jackets, they searched for Hazel, calling his name, and receiving no answer. Hazel was gone. Concerned, the others told Drew of their frightening discovery, but he just shook his head, and shut his eyes.

“Don’t…worry…he’s probably…” Drew never finished though, because he drifted off to sleep then. Picking him up carefully, Chris cradled Drew as the others ran down a cab, and then drove to the hospital.

--

Once there, he was hooked up to another IV, one in each wrist now, and was hooked up to an oxygen mask. He slept for most of the night, then reawoke in the morning. Hazel still hadn’t returned.

“How are you feeling?” Holly asked, sitting beside him on the bed. The others had gone off to find something to eat, since it had been almost 2 days since their last meal She stroked his fingers comfortingly as Drew looked over at her, his brown eyes still clouded with pain.

“Like a million bucks…” He wheezed through the oxygen mask. Holly tried to smile, though the tears laced her lashes.

“That’s good. Umm…Hazel’s…gone.” Holly said. Drew continued to gaze at her.

“I know. He’s okay though.”

“How do you know?” Holly asked. Drew smiled wistfully, his eyes glazing over, like he was in another place.

“You know how...everyone says….it’s a terrible feeling…to know your going to die…? And most people….are scared?” Drew whispered. Holly leaned in to hear him. She nodded.

“Well...I’m not scared.” Drew murmured. Holly smiled, though she choked softly on her tears as they fell freely down her cheeks. Drew gazed at her softly for a moment, then gently raised his hand to her cheek, and brushed some tears away.

“It’s okay Hollister…don’t cry…I’m not dying anytime soon…I’m okay. I’m okay…” Drew murmured, and carefully raised the hand that Holly held from her grasp, and made a feeble attempt at a thumbs up.

“I’m okay.”

0-0-0-0

Drew died January 23, 2006. He died in his sleep, a few days after the doctors discovered that there was no longer any reason to waste antibiotics on Drew, when it was already a lost cause.

Not that Drew minded. He knew the consequences of his actions from the other night, risking it all in order to save his beloved. He bid his life in place for Hazel’s, and in the end, he had been the highest bidder.

We had him buried in a little cemetery outside of the city. After the snow melted that is. We spent the entire winter coming up with what to put on his little stone, and finally, we put this:

ANDREW D. BLITZEN

March 15, 1989 – January 23, 2006

Friend, Brother, Lover

And above the little stone, near him for all eternity, was a smaller, similar stone to his.

HAZEL

Lover, friend, and his guardian angel

We all lived out full lives. Drew, however, had his life cut short. But we know, we all do, that up in heaven, or wherever he’s at, he’s happy. Hazel and he are together, forever pressed together in the warmth of intimate moments, the kind that only lovers find, and sharing a nice, yummy, heavenly….. lollipop.