A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you so much for reading!! Please review, because I really want some feedback. This story is kind of a sequel to the movie City of Angels starring Nicholas Cage and Meg Ryan. Like I said before, please review! Thanks! :-)

Molly stood quietly on the rooftop and listened. The sounds of the city below echoed toward the sky, making a kind of chaotic harmony as they rose. She observed and made mental notes, watching as the humans busily scurried around their city like ants. Ever so often, she would look up and nod to one of her own that might happen to be on the building next door or across the street. Her kind was invisible to humans, their long, dark trench coats almost trailing behind them as they paced the city. It always saddened her when she took up a soul, hearing them asking what heaven was like and questioning her on being an angel. They could never become angels. It was impossible, unless He made it so. And he hadn't. Angels had always been here, created at the same time as Adam and Eve, and lived forever in heaven, until He sent them to escort souls as they ascended. Soon, her usually fascinating viewpoint became boring. Molly began to go to a favorite location among angels. Have you ever gone into a library and found it so quiet and peaceful it was hard not to enjoy it? If so, angels were most likely roaming the aisles and aisles of books, listening to the humans read. Molly enjoyed the library immensely. She trotted up and down, trying to find something interesting a human happened to be reading. Finally, the words that were so familiar to her she could recite came to her mind. She searched around, trying to locate the reader. Not long after, she did. A short girl about nine or ten years old was reading The Chronicles of Narnia, her favorite. The Horse and His Boy by the sound of it. Amazing man, that C.S. Lewis. Quite a nice man to talk to, popular among the heaven-bound angels. After thirty minutes or so, Molly reluctantly started her rounds about the city. Los Angeles was a cesspool of everything angels disliked, despite its nickname. City of Angels, my foot! thought Molly harshly. The smoking prostitutes that lurked on the street corners, the tasteless graffiti advertising rude and disgusting things, the bouncing cars blasting violent music. Just gross. As Molly was reviewing how much she detested this city, her sense awoke. An angels' sense is like a radar, for example, pointing out souls near death. She was immediately steered into a grimy alleyway, where she saw a gang apparently beating a boy to death. The boy's aura was extremely weak and thin. She felt a twang of pity and sympathy, as she usually did when witnessing a death. A couple minutes later, when the boy's aura was so fragile that it could hardly be made out, the beating ceased. The gang members had gotten bored, or so it seemed to Molly. They began to disperse, scuttling away to their filthy drug houses. The boy lay suffering, fighting to stay alive. Molly couldn't help herself. Jogging over, she knelt down and examined him crucially. His face was covered in blood, almost every body part swollen or bruised. But his aura wasn't fading. It was still painfully delicate, but still there. He was refusing to die. Impulsively, Molly reached out a hand and stroked his face, wiping away blood here and there. Suddenly, the boy's eyes opened. They were glassy and dark, but still flickered with life. She smiled and continued to stroke his face. He gazed at her in awe, shakily smiling back. "Are you okay?" Molly whispered, withdrawing her hand. "Yeah," the response was raspy and awestruck. "Who are you?" the question came expectedly to Molly's prepared ears. "My name's Molly. Who are you?" "Zane." The sound of ambulance sirens could be heard now. They were meant for him, she knew. She had sent them. Usually, she didn't meddle in the deaths of humans. They were second nature. But she didn't want this one to die. Molly did not know why she cared all of a sudden for this human, this Zane. But she did. More deeply than she wished to admit. She made herself fade, removing herself from Zane's eyesight. But before she did, she stroked his face one more time. His hand unexpectedly raised and held hers against his cheek. Now the medics had arrived. Hurriedly, Molly faded herself and hid in the dark corner of the alley. She watched almost painfully as they carried him away. It was quickly made clear to her right then. This emotion she felt, she had observed more than enough in humans. It shocked her steadily. I've hardly known him ten minutes! thought Molly, still thoroughly surprised. Almost running away from the alley, the emotion grew stronger. She couldn't squash it, she knew. She did feel it. She did with all of her heart, but she didn't understand, nor did she want to. I can't! I won't! No matter how much she repeated this, she knew that she honestly couldn't vanquish it.

Molly stood on top of a bridge, watching the cars whiz by underneath, until her vision became nothing but an unintelligible blur of colors. She pulled her head up when her eyes began to swim with bright spots, and finally realized that she had company. "Hey, Dodger." The other angel smiled. Raising an eyebrow, he said "What's up, Moll?" Dodger was her good friend that she'd met back in the Civil War, during the Battle of Gettysburg. Just the thought of Gettysburg made her head spin. She'd never experienced such a day. "You usually don't go for the overpasses," said Dodger, as if reminding her. "Yeah, but I just wanted to try something different today." It is said that the end of the world is near when an angel lies. If that is true, better get ready for the apocalypse. "Got some hospital rounds tonight. You in?" That cheesy, sarcastic smirk got her every time. "Guess so," replied Molly, "Nothing better to do." "Coolness! See you around seven. And Moll?" "Yeah?" "Take care of yourself." Molly couldn't help chuckling. Dodger always brightened her day. She looked up again, to ask him something about humans, but he had already disappeared.

He was aware of the pain before he was fully awake. The searing ache in his legs and arms, the burning antiseptic scent that filled his nostrils. The sounds were too familiar. The squeaky wheels of the gurnies, and the jabber of the nurses and patients. He knew the hospital too well. Having a brother with leukemia, the common noises of medical care were always there, to wake him up in the morning, to serve his meals. He had stayed alongside Eddy as long as he could. But he couldn't stop Eddy from suffering. The day they told Eddy died in surgery was the day he'd gotten beat by the gang. How could he even consider forgetting the worst day of his entire life? It all began to seep back into his unwilling mind. The alley, the gang, the pain, the girl, the darknessā€¦ The girl. She was beautiful beyond imagination. Zane was sure she'd glowed, a warm, reassuring glow. Her touch was careful and gentle. He remembered her soft hand when he held it to his face. Molly. That was her name. Molly. Almost as beautiful as it's owner. Molly. Molly. Molly. The syllables were pure music, pure beauty. An angel, he thought, a true angel. Zane was not a religious person, but now, for some odd reason, he was reconsidering.

Molly and Dodger slowly made their way around the hospital. Molly had never liked the hospital. It reeked of death and sadness, just like funeral homes, and that nasty antiseptic. Ugh. "Hey, check it out," said Dodger, pointing. Molly followed his finger. A little bald girl with an IV was walking the halls, holding a teddy bear with a red ribbon tied about its neck. She sighed. Hospitals were just so depressing. They continued their stroll, observing many elderly men and women watching soap operas on their televisions, or reading crime-drama novels. They occasionally passed a person sleeping peacefully, their room full of flowers. Just as they were about to turn the corner, an obnoxious shout came from a room nearby. Dodger and Molly were there in an instant. A pudgy man with a receding hairline and a heavy Brooklyn accent was yelling at a nurse. Apparently, he didn't get enough ketchup on his "boyga". Across the room, another man lay in bed. He was reading quietly, not making any commotion, or even seem to be noticing the scene unfolding across the room. He just went on reading, turning the page ever so often. Molly, being her curious self, walked up and peered at the cover. Ernest Hemingway. She'd heard plenty of him at the library. Signaling to Dodger that she would be staying for a while, Molly made herself comfortable in the armchair in the corner, and listened to the man read. As the Brooklyn man stopped yelling, the peacefulness that engulfed the room was one quite incredible to behold. Molly was enjoying herself, listening to this man read. His voice was rich and almost lyrical. Listening to minds usually bored Molly, unless she knew the book. But she was glued to the spot, afraid to move, lest the man stop. All of a sudden, he stopped mid-sentence. I know you're listening, the rich voice said. You're not as clever as you think. Horrified, Molly made herself a statue, non-breathing, non-moving. I still know you're there. "Fine then," said Molly, thinking the man wouldn't hear her, "Just read your life away. I don't care." "What's your name?" the same voice was coming out of his mouth now, and was perplexed. "Molly," she said, standing defiantly at the edge of the bed. "Seth," he replied, dog-earing the page of his book. "How can you see me? How do you know I'm here?" The questions escaped Molly's lips before she could hold them back. Seth laughed softly. "I just do," he answered, with a small smile. "So, Molly, what brings you to the hospitals rounds? Never seen you before." "I was bored. I hate the hospital." "The smell?" guessed Seth, a small smile playing his lips once again. "Yeah," said Molly, surprised. "I hated it, too." Molly was very confused now. "What do you mean?" "I mean," he said, almost whispering, "I mean that this smell drives me nuts." "But you said you hated the smell too. Have you gotten used to it?" "You could say that." He smiled once again, which normally would have creeped her out, especially since he was a human. "Well, I'll be going now," She bolted for the door, and quickly walked into the hallway. Seth chortled lightly. He remembered being an angel. He missed it more than anything sometimes, but Maggie had made it worth while. Maggie. He turned his thoughts to other things. The ones about her were too painful.