~~~~~~~~~~Sean's POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Defeat hung heavy on the air, a thick blanket that offered no warmth, no comfort. No one moved for a while. Even the angels, held with such high regard, didn't move to stand from their positions on the floor. Emma holds tightly to the metal shiv in her hand, as though still preparing for a fight that would never come. A steady drip of red falls from the back of her skull to the darkened floor, though she seems to hardly notice, hardly care for that matter.

Thomas stares at the place where the Nephilim had stood, chest rising and falling unsteadily with each breath he seemed to force in. I could almost feel the new panic arising within his chest, showcased dominantly on his paled features.

Nate seems the most aware of the bunch, if not the angriest. He sits on the hard, stone floor for only a minutes hesitation before scrambling up. He's stands without the gracefulness usually shown in each of his sly movements. His eyes narrow into tight slits, hardly taking time to adjust from the blow he'd taken and wobbling on unsteady legs.

"Dammit..."

I hardly notice his muttered cuss, far too focused on staying up. My knees wobble beneath me, threatening to give way at the smallest nudge. I can feel a sheen of sweat across my skin, though shivers of cold rack each limb. I screwed up... Anti knows...

"I-I'll..."

Soft words spoken by the brunette angel catch my indistinct attention. Thomas stands slowly, managing to keep his dignity with the slow, steady move. His voice tells a different story.

"I-I'll... Go get Mark..."

Within a second, he's gone, and any false calm goes with him. Everything comes back, cutting through the oddly-peaceful fog. I wince, only now realizing the newfound pain in my wrist. I cradle it to my stomach, taking a second to move it only to bite back a cry as the bones grind together. Definitely broken.

"I told you this plan wouldn't work... I told all of you..."

Nate continues with his mutters, growing distinctly louder and having begun to pace the distance of the room, feet hardly making a sound. His mumbles are the only noise for another good few minutes, until Emma finally seems to regain enough of herself to stand, or come as close as possible to doing so.

She leans heavily on the wall, pushing up to a pathetic slouch. Her eyes clench shut in a pain filled expression, empty hand moving to brush the back of her head, at the sight of the newly flowing blood she sighs, though it comes out more as a gasp.

"Nate."

No response from the darkly-clad angel, seeming to lost in his own rage to be of much help.

"Nate!"

The angel freezes, shoulders moving backward in a sort of obedient acknowledgement. Her commanding tone demands nothing less, expressions of confusion and resentment cross his features at the instinctive response before he finally looks to the female with nothing short of blood-lust.

"I need you to focus..."

She seems hardly fazed by the look.

"We'll regroup and strike again, he will be apprehended."

If anything, his eyes alight with more fire, a glint in his nearly black eyes that presents as plain psychotic. Though it may have been directed at the female, I find myself stepping backward. Emma however stands taller, struggling to stay upward it seems, but arrogant as ever she stays up.

"Are you daft? He knows we're here, he knows the plan, and now he knows what he is!"

Obsidian irises dart my direction for only a second, I find myself again feeling the urge to flee, however just as quickly they're back on the female across the room. Nate steps forward, feet surer than I'd ever see them, and resembling more a demon than the holy being he's supposed to be.

"I told you we should have just killed the thing, I knew how this would play out and yet... you never listened!"

His roar shakes the walls not-so-gently, a challenge evident in his voice as he approaches the female. I'd typically doubt his ability to hurt anyone of his kind, but in this moment, I fear for her life. She either doesn't notice the danger, or plainly ignores it. Her eyes meet his with the same challenge, the same threat if he doesn't back down. Despite her smaller stature, I wouldn't typically doubt her ability to handle it... but her head, her paled skin and unsteady limbs. She couldn't win if this became a full-fledged fight.

"Nate... Stand. Down."

Her voice is hardly above a whisper, a snarl that sounded animalistic. If it weren't directly in front of me, I'd doubt it'd come from a person at all.

For a minute they stay like that, a battle of wills neither seems willing to lose. I'm not sure if it's resolve or plain arrogance keeping them glued in place.

"Will both of you cut it out!"

The new voice snaps the two out of their internal battle, eyes moving to the doorway where the demon stands, propped up by the wood as though standing had become difficult. His voice rings out with annoyance, but his face shows anything but. He looks exhausted to put it simply.

"Stay out of this... This has nothing- "

"There are more important things to worry about, your little pissing contest can wait."

The air somehow grows thicker with the interruption, for a second, I fear Nate will move to attack the demon, and I'm not sure if Emma would bother to stop him.

He doesn't however, lurch out to attack, he steps back from the female angel, who seems to deflate at the sudden space she'd been given, and turns to face the doorway, eyes darting across the lot of us with a certain cold antipathy. His hand clutches as the metal in his hand, a knife just longer than his hand, I don't remember him having picked it up again, but there it is clutched with white knuckles that tremble with the force.

"We tried this your way... We tried to be civil... Now we do this my way."

Perhaps it's just a trick of the light, but for a moment I swear to seeing a small glimmer behind his back, stretching outward in the semblance of feathers ruffled with unkempt wrath. His hand tightens even further around the weapon, I wonder which will break first from the ungodly grip, the blade or his fingers.

"You lay a finger on him, I swear..."

Dark pushes up from the door, easily steadying his legs beneath him as they sway. He walks forward, daring to threaten the other being, Nate merely studies him. Not with interest, or any kind of annoyance, blatant rage. It hardly deters the demon.

"What'll you do, demon? You are in no position to threaten me, I have no reason to even leave you alive... Consider yourself lucky."

Dark looks ready to lose it by the time the darkly-dressed angel finishes speaking. His mouth opens to no-doubt retort with just as much fury, but Emma cuts him off quickly.

"Nate. You can't be serious... You can't kill that thing."

His darkened eyes move back, rage falling away to plain fortitude, a smile crosses his lips though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Watch me."

With that he's gone, disappearing with a small gust of air and dropping the room into an uneasy silence once more. Not a second after the angel had left, Thomas returns out of nowhere, Mark underneath his hand. Shoving away Mark hurries forward, I fight back a wince as his arms wrap around me. I hardly pay notice Thomas rushing to his comrades' aid.

"Sean... Are you alright..."

A nod is all I find myself able to do, words lost in my throat. He pulls away, dark bags underneath his chocolate eyes adding an additional few years to his appearance. He looks exhausted, worried, straight up panicked. But still he looks over me, lingering a bit too long on my face, before down to the arm cradled against my stomach.

Only as he reaches out to grab it with gentle fingers do I realize the throbbing pain coursing through the splinted limb had grown significantly. It feels like it had swollen, the tightly wrapped bandages now uncomfortably cutting off blood flow. I can't move it, the fingers on the hand tingle with a concerning numbness.

The raven-haired man works quickly, gently, professionally unwrapping the white bandages. I find myself gagging at the sight. The bruising hadn't faded, in fact it looks worse. Purples and greens mix together to create a sickeningly colorful canvas, vibrant against the pale skin. My hand is turned at an awkward angle, a lump of what I recognize as bone sticking too far out, under the skin, for it to be natural. The pain grows a million times worse at the sight, and any doubts about it being broken fall quickly away. I bite my tongue to keep back the wetness in my eyes but can't stop the pained gasp as the bandages and splint are fully pulled away exposing the wounded limb to the icy air.

"Are you alright?"

He looks up, hardly fazed by the discolored skin, I offer a small nod. I'm alive, that's about as good as it gets I suppose.

"Yeah it's broken... For now we ca-"

"Let me see."

The gruff voice startles the two of us. Peeking around Mark's form, which had moved even closer in some semblance of protection, I meet a pair of crimson eyes for only a second. It's strange to see them side by side, so similar yet so different.

"Back off."

Mark snarls at him like a wild animal, I feel a small smile grace my lips, maybe from shock, I'm not sure. Dark merely rolls his eyes, the two of them look like siblings fighting over some toy, the comparison is almost humorous.

"I'm trying to help, Mark... Unless you have a hospital on hand?"

Before the man can argue with the sarcasm I place my good hand on Mark's arm, watching his eyes move to me with a certain confusion. I offer up a small nod, he looks displeased but gently releases my arm, moving maybe an inch or two to my left, enough to unblock my view of the demon. His anger had dimmed, quiet disenchantment instead coating the fiery color of his irises. He doesn't look worried about the fact Nate had run off, merely miffed about the words that had been spoken beforehand. I wonder if he's given up? In his position I probably would have...

I wince from these thoughts as his large hand wraps not-so-gently around the injured limb. His grayish skin stands out vividly against the purple-green discoloration. Mark moves slightly closer at noticing the unintentional roughness, but with one look he backs down again.

Dark looks almost apologetic, quietly examining the misaligned bone. His red eyes glow a gentle color, noticeable against the darkened room. I feel a certain energy pass through his hand and below my skin, with a small gasp of surprise rather than pain I look down to the source. His palm sparks a gentle shade of yellow, it spreads to the surface of the skin he grips, and I feel the tension in the muscles begin to recede. An odd sensation I find my instincts warning against, still I stay quiet.

Upon closer inspection the yellowish hue had spread below the skin, a certain cool replaces the burning pain, and the purple bruises begin to fade back to the pale peach of the rest of my arm. Despite the clear lack of pain, everything in my mind move into overdrive, something about the energy feels, wrong, dirty, but I stay still whether from shock or not I'm not sure. Within a minute or two the bone moves back into place with a small crack, though there was no physical pain I find myself wincing. Once he drops the limb I feel a hesitant smile curl over my cheeks. A small part of my brain screams against the unnatural event, but I find myself unable to care.

The pain had gone along with the discoloration, leaving a mild ache as though I'd merely pulled a muscle instead of breaking the fragile bone.

"What the hell did you do?"

Mark speaks up before I can fully comprehend the returned range of motion. Dark doesn't look to him as he answers.

"Healed him. Might be sore a few days but shouldn't require a hospital visit."

I move it around in front of my eyes, the pale skin a much more pleasant sight than the previous purple and green. I can feel the muscle strain slightly under the skin but, all-in-all, feels good as new.

"You can do that?"

He gives a curt nod, pink lips quirking up gently at the curiosity that flutters through my words.

"Takes a lot of energy, lower level demons can't typically manage it, but yes. Minor injuries can be easily remedied."

"Thank you."

Dark merely nods at the gratitude, turning quickly away as another male voice pipes up.

"Alright, everyone listen up."

I follow the demon's eyes to the two angels. Thomas stands, arm around the smaller female angel and seeming to support a majority of her weight. She wobbles on her feet, wincing occasionally as she moves, her eyes look unfocused and I wonder for a second how hard she'd hit her head.

"We'll head back, regroup, and move on from there."

The usual kind tone Thomas's voice retained had hardened into an authority I find myself listening to more than I had the other angels I'd met. With the amount of care, he shows typically, I find myself forgetting he's one of them. He's a warrior, as much as the rest of them, so when he begins walking, I follow behind quickly, Mark at my side.

The male angel shoots a look at Dark, Emma seems too out of it to insist on chains again. Thomas, for a moment, looks as if he'll make the call, but instead his eyes grow to a soft request of obedience. Shockingly Dark only nods, face falling back to a cold indifference. He follows towards the back, quiet and oddly complacent. Still I say nothing, only follow the slow pace set.

~~~~~~~~Anti's POV~~~~~~~~~~~

WhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhyWhy

He's alive, he shouldn't be alive. I killed him, I know I did. I felt it, I felt his life force leave, felt the heart of his vessel stop short for a moment too long, I felt the power course back through me. So why...

I want to blame shock, something, anything. I just fell into his arms once again, fell for his pathetic eyes and gruff attention. All this progress I've made, fell away into nothing, all because I-

NoNoNoNoNoNoNo

IDon'tIDon'tIDon'tIDon't

I don't lo-... Have feelings for him.... Those died a long time ago, I got away, I killed him. I was-

....

HappyHappyHappyHappyHappyHappyHappy

I wasn't ... I was...am... miserable. I must focus, I have to...

FocusFocusFocusFocusFocusFocus

I need to figure a plan, I can't afford to fall off the deep end again. The angels are in Hell, I don't know how many of them there are, nor where they've holed up. They've warded themselves against demons I assume... but if I'm not...

Nephilim

The word filters through the jumble of voices helpfully. Were they telling the truth?

LiesLiesLiesLiesLies

What reason would there be to lie? So, I'm-... and abomination. A being that should have never existed.

We've all heard the stories, of how dangerous such a thing can be, an angel and a human having such relations is almost unheard of, or at the very least inappropriate. I hadn't remembered much of my human life, Hell, I hardly remember my name half the time. But when they spoke of my father....

Raguel

The name sparks something, I vaguely remember unpleasant green eyes, eyes filled with a hatred for the thing he'd created. I wonder why he didn't kill me as soon as he became aware... Maybe he should have just-

I shut that thought down... Hard.

FocusFocusFocusFocusFocusFocusFocusFocus

I wonder. Warding against demons is to be expected, but would they ward against they're own kind? Are they able to do such a thing?

I let my eyes shut, the darkness more welcoming than the dimmed lights of the library I'd discovered. Large dark-oak shelves line the walls, dusty books settled orderly on each separate shelf, some I can read the titles of, others are written in a language I've never seen before. I'd be curious given a more pleasant situation.

I reach down towards that familiar feeling in my gut, the power pools there, rising slowly to my chest and making it difficult to breathe properly. Only now do I realize the odd goodness to its make-up, a holy aura I find my body trying to reject, yet desperate to welcome. Pushing away the newfound pain throbbing through my body's chest, I reach further down, purposefully drawing that divine energy forward, only now feeling how much strength it truly holds. Odd...

It takes a second before I can feel the throbbing within my head, a familiar warning bell screaming of danger, of Angels.... No... Of an Angel....

My eyes open slowly, the unfamiliar power falling away to rest as I let my hold go, I blink a few times to clear the newly settled static. My lips curl into a vicious smile as the throbbing thought of danger doesn't go away, my head tilts as I turn, meeting a pair of inky irises that hold such hatred I almost find myself taken aback.

"Hello, Nate."