From where they sat, Logan, Rogue, and Piotr watched Angel as she moved through the bodies like a whirlwind. The early morning sun reflected off the gold jewelry she wore, dancing with the hand crafted cross that hung from her throat.
“I didn’t think she was religious.” Logan glanced at Piotr.
“She isn’t. This is something that she does for the kids.” Piotr shifted uncomfortably as he watched his fiancé standing toe to toe with a young man with twenty pounds and six inches on her. “Keeps saying that we need to have this, that we need acceptance.”
“She must be devastated.” Rogue sniffed, her face buried in a handkerchief.
Piotr glanced at the tall, beautiful woman to his right and sighed. “She takes each loss personally.”
With the majority of the shelter’s residence in place, a heavy silence fell over the group as they all bowed their heads in prayer. Standing next to the beautifully carved casket Angel seemed touched by the shadows, yet not of them. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a thick twist, her face done to perfection with makeup and a deep sorrow in her eyes. Black lips moved slowly, as she began to speak.
“We are gathered here to offer a prayer, a moment of kindness for those who have fallen before us.” She started. “To each life there must come a trial, and a tribute. We have all seen that good can come from evil that we can walk among the light without fear, without disgrace. Yet for ever soul that He gives us, he must take one back. Today we say goodbye to a dear friend, a child who lost more than anyone could be expected to. Angels don’t belong on earth, and sometimes, sometimes, Heavenly Father, you call them home.”
Amid the soft sobs she paused and looked around, her eyes falling on each of the kids, each of the adults, “We ask that you accept this angel back into your flock. She fell a long time ago, but she had a soul as beautiful as any angel ever could. She was young, and destined to be a great person but the act of another took her from us. We beseech thee, oh God, please, give back to her what was stolen, let her have her wings and let her fly. We can not hope to give her more than your embrace. Amen.”
“Amen.” The collective word was filled with sorrow as everyone clung together, their gaze on the small box being lowered deep into the ground.
Turning her head, Rogue sobbed openly into Logan’s shoulder. The little girl had been so young, and she’d paid for the sins of adults with her life too soon. A flame that had been snuffed out before it’s time.
“Why?” Rogue whispered brokenly. “Why are people so cruel? So sick?”
“Who knows?” Piotr shrugged and patted her back awkwardly. “They just are. Come on.”
One by one, those that had gathered dropped flowers and small teddy bears into the whole, paying respect to a child who had never had a chance to be one. Catching Angel’s eyes Rogue shivered at the banked fury and cold hatred that filled them with the sorrow, the tears. As usual, the other girl had taken this death personally and it showed.
“Barts or Hilton?” Piotr asked softly.
Angel smiled sadly and sniffed, “Neither. Home. There is a lot of work to do and…”
“Home it is.” Piotr wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her away from the slowly filling grave. They would do as they normally did a routine that was both costly and unhealthy.
“We’ll head over to the house.” Logan stopped next to his truck. “With so much work needing to be done, we’ll take the older kids to the brownstone. I think everyone needs a bit of a break.”
Angel nodded and slid into the car they’d arrived in.
Piotr glanced at Logan, “We’re going to head for the apartment. It’s not exactly a moment of celebration and she’s not going to be any good to anyone soon.”
“You have to figure something else to do. You can’t drink yourselves into oblivion.” Rogue whispered.
Piotr smiled sadly, “We aren’t going to drink. She’s headed for another inch on her tattoo.”
“Why?”
“She failed.”
“She didn’t kill that kid. AIDS did.” Rogue protested. “A disease given to her by some sick bastard who paid a few dollars more to go bareback.”
“Doesn’t matter. She’d heal ‘em all if she could. This is something she does, a penance if you will for her failures.”
Logan snorted and helped Rogue into his vehicle. “You’ll be around though?”
“Yeah. We’ll be around. I’ll call later.”
Sitting next to Angel, Piotr watched the cars and buildings as they went by. He could hear the tremble in her breathing and knew she was in pain. Reaching out he pulled her close and held her, letting her cry against his chest.
“We can’t keep doing this.” She whispered painfully. “We can’t keep burying them.”
“I know.” Piotr whispered. “What else can we do?”
Angel shuddered and clung to him, her fingers tight in his coat lapels. She didn’t know what she could do to stop the carnage but she would think of something. She had to.
Piotr nodded to Jack and ushered Angel up the stone steps to their home away from home. It wasn’t much, a simple one room apartment but it worked for them. As soon as the door was closed, he watched her shed her coat, her fingers working the buttons on her blouse loose.
“What’ll it be?” Piotr asked walking across the room to the window and staring down at the bustling city beyond the glass.
“Coffee.” Angel replied as she reached for a simple t-shirt and pair of jeans. “I don’t have the energy to drink today.”
Hiding a smile, Piotr set to work making a pot. A few minutes later he settled next to her on the couch and handed her a steaming mug. “So what do you want to do?”
“We need to come up with an idea to help fix the problem.” Angel sighed. “We can’t just keep putting a bandage on it.”
“So how do we prevent the problem from arising in the first place?”
Angel sighed, her head falling back against the cushions of the couch. “We educate, we moderate. Then we kill ‘em all.”
Piotr shook his head at her threat, she would do it to. She was at the end of her emotional rope and she needed something to focus on, something to give her her faith back. “Okay so we educate. Next month we’ve got a Friday night that we could um use as a fundraiser/education night. Why don’t we organize a massive dinner and we’ll get some of these kids to get up and talk?”
“No one is going to pay money to come listen to a teenage whore talk.”
“Oh, I think there might be. If we can get someone from Xavier’s to agree to attend and use that connection I think you’d find that we’d have a sold out function.”
“Could we organize something that big though?” Angel rose and began to pace. “We’d need tables, servers, food, drink, licensing, all the stuff…”
“We have all that. We have two hundred kids in this city that live with us. If you give them something to do, say this is what we’re doing we can do this. Give Rebecca a task, a job. Tell her to organize servers for two hundred people from those that live with us and I guarantee you, we’ll have servers dressed in black tuxedos and not a one would look trashy or cheap. Let the younger ones do those napkin things, give them a chance to be more than a victim and they’ll show you they can do it.”
Angel stared at him, a brief flash of anger in her eyes a moment before she pushed it ruthlessly aside. “Okay. Now we have to figure out how we’re going to feed two hundred people, how we’re going to supply drinks for that many within the next four weeks.”
Piotr smiled at the look on her face, his Angel’s faith was slowly being restored. She had a long way to go, it wasn’t a quick fix but it was a start. Given time, and something to focus on and she’d be back to being the woman he knew she could be, the woman he loved so desperately.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000