I was still rather nervous about the bathhouse, especially since today was again one of their 'traditional' days. Of course, I did have the advantage of knowledge this time around. I walked in and began to undress before I realized Cecil, standing behind me, had made no such movement to change.

"They really get on your ass about your state of dress."

"I don't doubt it." He said. Still, he had his hands in his coat pocket and seemed to be looking around with reproach.

I put my shirt back on. It'd probably be weirder if we didn't match. Despite a couple glares, I walked out into the main bathhouse area and quickly walked along the perimeter towards the private rooms. If I kept my head low, I could almost forget about the people watching me.

I walked in after a very quick knock, and Cecil followed me until the doorway. There, I noticed him pause. Looking ahead, I couldn't guess why.

Well, Michael wasn't alone, for one. He again was joined by Christina and the red-head, Lilith, as well as two other men. Someone in that group must have been the reason Cecil appeared nervous to come inside.

I ushered him in though, and he closed the door slowly.

"Martin!" Michael said as I walked inside. "Come, join us in the water. "Jasvean, Ixaben, leave to make room for my guests."

The two men got out of the water without a word and dried themselves off. Considering the bath had plenty of room for everyone, I wasn't really sure why they had to go.

"I don't want to join you." I said, but doing my best to sound very polite about it.

"Come!" Michael said encouragingly. He had a very wide smile that felt quite fake.

"No."

"Don't press him." Christina scolded, and Michael scoffed. His tone fell immediately.

"My daughter has been missing for two days now. You seem like someone who has managed to bond with her, correct?"

"No."

"Where is she?"

"I don't know. Not really my responsibility to know." I shrugged, but then remembered why that sort of nonchalance was a bad trait to display right now. "But I'm sure she's fine- alive, I mean. She's probably just hanging in her clubhouse down in the Eastern block. Don't recall the street, but it's in this abandoned area with the letters 'CFA' on the door. I'm sure she's fine. I saw her cousin today."

"My niece?"

"I'd assume so?"

"Didn't think Ivial was the type to hang with delinquents." Michael said smugly. "I hope she's missing too so Gabe will get off my ass for having such a shitty daughter."

I was fairly sure it wasn't my place to berate Michael in any way, shape, or form. Instead, I exchanged a concerned and brief look with Christina, who immediately began talking in angelic.

After a minute, Michael cut her off and pointed to Cecil. "Who's with you?"

"Uh, Cecil Fear." I turned to look at him, and he seemed fairly afraid. He was clinging to the door. "He's here."

"Does he know anything?"

"What, about your daughter? I doubt it." I was doing my best to read Cecil's face, but I couldn't quite place what he was going through. He really did look afraid, but that didn't make much sense.

"Well. I don't care much for him then. But I want you to join me."

"He doesn't need to bathe with you if he doesn't want to." Lilith held his arm sternly.

"Fine." Michael did not frown, but I thought his smile took on a mean edge. "I received a note this morning saying Amrael had been abducted. She sought you out. If you're not responsible for this, please retrieve her."

"Whoah, there's a threatening note with this? The fact you know she's been abducted would have been a much better opener-"

"I don't care. I would like her safety assured."

I was shaking my head without really being aware of it. A young girl was missing, and it hadn't really settled in on me. But a sort of anger had come before that remorse. Though to call it remorse was surely rather fanciful- it was really the kind of sadness best reserved for strangers.

"You're her father, and you're sitting naked in a bath with a couple of girls. You lead thousands of people who worship you as a fucking god, and you haven't bothered to send someone else looking for her? You just summon some chap-"

"Have you been watching the news?" Michael raised his brow. "Now is not the time for angels. I'm fairly sure the group that took Amrael is the same one that's been killing my other children-" It took me a moment to realize he was referring to the other angels- "And I don't want to appear to be, say, enacting war by sending a couple soldiers on the search. Or at the very least, send them off to die. A demon like you is worthless, and if they catch you, at least I won't be involved."

"'Worthless?'" I said. "You don't even know me. And I'm not doing this! Why do people keep seeking me out and asking me to do things I don't want to do? Go talk to the police, for fuck's sake. Then neither you nor I has to be involved."

Michael said something in angelic, a word I think was some kind of huge insult. It was a pretty ugly word, like 'inlufugi'. I think it was basically a slur word for demons, but it was honestly meaningless. Slurs aren't formed overnight, and though I'm sure plenty of angels were saying it with all the hate it needed, it had never really caught on as something for demons to get particularly offended by.

Anyways, Michael called me a couple of words that I'm sure were meant to shock me if I actually understood his gibberish language.

"God knows you ought to be involved though. Wouldn't kill you to give a fuck beyond hiring someone to bring her back like she was some lost diamond ring. She's your daughter."

Michael further spoke at me in angelic, but now Christina had joined in holding his arm. He shook her off and climbed out of the bath, and I suddenly became quite aware he was moving to punch me in the face. Still speaking angelic like he was stuck on it, I saw him wear anger in a way that suggested he was quite unused to expressing it.

But he seemed to know his way around feeling it. He got out of the water not far away from where I was standing, and I backed up a little bit before I recalled I was a hellhound, shifted over, and curled up on the floor.

He opted to punch Cecil instead, something I realized when I felt his body fall onto my back. Christina and Lilith had followed Michael, and quickly grabbed him and pulled him away, preventing him from further injuring the unconscious man.

I reverted back into human shape and Cecil's body crushed my back until I squirmed out from under it. He seemed to be waking up right away, but he was probably going to end up with a black eye.

Lilith sat down with Michael in the bath again, talking him down in angelic, but Christina had put on a towel and joined me in looking at Cecil.

"Sorry." She whispered. "Come with me outside."

Cecil awoke and groaned, and I helped him walk for a few paces as Christina led us back into the changing room. There, she still spoke with a small whisper as she got dressed.

"I don't really want any angels to hear this. But you know- Michael's just a little- Well. I'm not an expert, or anything, but he's not all that stable. I don't know if there's a more politically correct term or whatever. I just kind of hang with him to keep an eye on him."

She went outside as soon as she could, further putting on her coat and tying up her hair as she walked.

"I heard you two were a couple." It seemed like a dumb thing to bring up, but the first thought that had come to my mind.

"Oh, no. I'm happy with Kell. But I do spend a lot of time with Michael." She sighed. "I do like him. He's actually kind of sweet, eventually. He loves children. He loves music. I think, in his mind, he really means the best. He's not some dark figure of manipulation- he's more like a kid who still hasn't matured past the occasional temper tantrum."

"You don't paint a very good picture of him. Of course, just meeting him doesn't paint a very good picture of him."

"You have to dig deep. But I mean, it's there. And don't get me wrong- we are friends! I don't do this because I get paid for it. It's more like a particularly toxic friendship that I know I can't get out of because he'll only bring harm to himself and others if I do."

"So absolutely horrible." Cecil said. "We'd all be better without him."

Christina glared at him. "It'd be better if I could help him. He still plays a role in the world. And I still care for him. It's not like he harms me, or is ever cruel to me. I just know that without me, he'd be a lot more volatile."

"He got on fine without a moral conscious before you." Cecil said.

"But that was during the war, and now- Look. I'm not going to argue this. Martin, you don't have to find Amrael. I'll check whether or not it's a real threat, first, and then call the police. Cecil, I am sorry for your injuries. Goodbye."

She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned right around, heading back to the bathhouse.

I noticed Cecil had gained a sort of permanent glare once his fear had faded in the bathhouse. I clapped him on the back. "Some bodyguard you turned out to be."

"You didn't need guarding." He said gruffly.

"Yes. Because I am a hellhound. Which is the exact reason I don't need a bodyguard at all."

"I'm just here to keep the killer away."

"Oh yeah. I momentarily forgot that you seem personally acquainted with the killer. Guess it's not a shadowy group then. Christina was probably right- Michael just made it up for a reason that doubtfully extends past his apparent insanity."

"Michael's not insane."

I smirked. "You were calling him dirt a second ago, and now you defend him. I feel like I'm getting a handle on who you are."

"No you're not."

"I mean, I'm not making any generalized statements yet. But soon. I'm going to hit this nail on the head." I smiled. "Anyways, let's grab lunch. If there's one thing I'd really like to do today, it's have you tell me all about this killer friend of yours. Not telling anyone is likely a felony this many murders in."

"I'm not obliged to tell you anything. But I know he wouldn't kidnap that girl. He'd just kill her. He's going to kill all the angels."

"And me, evidently?"

"Not you. But I still need to protect you."

I rolled my eyes, but Cecil was looking at his feet. I had to wait a few seconds until he looked up before I rolled them again.

Cecil didn't have to agree to lunch for me to take him out to it. If he was planning to follow me around forever, lunch was part of that deal. I found a small booth of a sandwich shop and sat him down across from me.

"What do you eat?"

"What?"

"I'm having grilled cheese. What do you eat?"

"Nothing."

"Come on!"

"Organic whole wheat bread."

"With nothing on it?" He nodded. "God, that's fucking weird."

I went up and placed the order, choosing to stand and wait until my food was done before sitting down again.

"So. Like I promised, I think I figured you out."

Cecil gestured broadly, like he was making a challenge. "Go on then."

"You're a fallen angel." I saw him hold back a laugh. "It makes perfect sense! You've been following me for years without age, you've 'been on Earth a while' and are unfamiliar with Hell, you seemed extremely nervous at the bathhouse, You both hate and love Michael, and-" I pointed accusingly at him. "You eat really weird food."

"What? What's wrong with healthy food?"

"I mean just- who eats it? Who just orders a single slice of bread at a restaurant? Plus, I know angels made all their own food in Heaven, so you're probably used to the palette."

Cecil took a moment. "You're right. Fine. You've got me. I'm a fallen." He took a vicious bite out of his bread. "But I wasn't afraid of Michael." He sounded defensive of this fact.

"The other angels then?"

He took another moment. Swallowed his food. "Yes."

"But again, why were you following me? The fallen angels all end up in Hornbrook. I grew up in on the west coast. That's quite a way for someone without any human possessions to travel to."

"I just wanted to keep track of you. I never meant to appear to be stalking you. I just wanted to- watch. Keep you safe."

"You're my guardian fucking angel then, are you?" I laughed.

Cecil did not seem amused. "There were others. Ones you never saw. I was keeping you safe. I don't know about the others."

"Okay, don't make this too shady. There's no such thing as guardian angels. You learned about me somehow, and you followed me for some specific reason. One you're keeping from me."

"One I'm keeping from you." He repeated. "And you'll know soon enough."

I sighed and put my head in my hands. "My life is such bullshit."

Cecil sounded hurt. I didn't look up at his face to confirm. "I never meant to ruin your life. I just- it was an accident you ever saw me. I never wanted to have to do this, to just follow you around all day like a wretched fuck. I just have to do it, okay? You'll learn why soon."

"It's not your fault." I said on reflex. Then I groaned. "When?"

"The end of the cycle celebration."

"Four days."

"Yes."

"Golly, it's just like waiting for Christmas." I said monotonously.

"Micky will likely try and help you pass the time. Parties."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm trying to think of things that will make you feel better. I'm not very good at it."

"It's okay. If anything is your fault, I'll have to wait a four days to learn. Don't stress."

"It's just- I'm not very fond of seeing you so negative."

I grimaced. "Have you ever seen me be anything else?"

"Well..."

"Right. Childhood. Creepy stalking. Course, it's not like my childhood was very positive either, so I'm not sure where you're getting the idea I ever was."

Despite the odds, I actually had been an optimist like it was a political stance a few years ago. Back in my college years. Or college year, really, as that's all that it ended up being. I moved into my dorms, started my liberal arts studies, and had a couple friends. I started thinking that a terrible childhood doesn't mean you have to be some moody anit-hero. That moving on doesn't make you weak.

Then I got a letter in the mail from a friend of my dead mother. And I came to the miserably empty town of Hornbrook to look after some tragic orphans. And my optimism was culled by maturity.

"What makes you happy?"

"God Cecil, what makes you happy? That's not a question anyone wants asked of them."

"Talking? Reading? Walking?"

"Those are pretty broad categories man. I don't think talking makes anyone happy. It's just kind of a thing we do."

"I don't mean normal talking."

"Ah yes, special talking. Magic talking."

"Ranting. Raving. Just letting your thoughts spill."

I laughed. "About what?"

"Hell. What do you think of it?"

I actually considered his question. "Well. It's a nice place to live, but I wouldn't want to visit it."

And I actually continued from there. I talked until I was sure my voice sounded strange, and Cecil kept his comments to a minimum. Nothing important was said or established, nothing interesting was learned. I just talked about what I thought of the architecture of Hell and the fact there were actual animals living here.

Cecil seemed sort of amused as I spoke, and I had to rake my mind to determine if I had ever enjoyed this sort of reckless throat damage before. Surely it was an obnoxious habit if it had ever been one I had. But Cecil seemed to be having fun with it.

We went 'home' around four, and spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around. Cecil took a nap for a whole hour. I made dinner. We watched the news, stories which mostly centered on the secret preparations for the coming celebrations and only catered a small segment for a recent six angel bloodbath that had been discovered in a bar. The kill count was up to thirty.

"He doesn't sleep much." Cecil said when I stared at him, seeking some sort of solution.

"You sleep too much." I threw a pillow at him while he lay on the couch.

A sort of camaraderie has developed too fast between us. I had to remind myself later that night, woken around four in the morning by a Micky as wasted as he had promised, who Cecil Fear was: someone I probably shouldn't bother to enjoy. A fallen angel with a habit for following and a stubborn enough mind that he refused to give me answers. Even answers that would save lives, like 'who is this killer you totally know personally?'.

I didn't have to hate him, and something rather optimistic buried in my mind echoed that thought. I didn't have to hate him if he didn't mean me harm. I didn't have to trust him to like him. And if he was capable of empathy, I had better have some towards to him.

I didn't have to lock a moral compass on someone just because one or two things got on my nerves. And though I had probably lost the notion sometime earlier in the morning, I allowed myself the peace of mind that I did not have anything much against Cecil Fear.