AN: This fic is a loose prequel to 'Faith and Bees' but you don't have to read that to understand this one. Anyway, enjoy ;)

Emmanuel lingered at the doorway of the bar called Angel's Sanctuary, uncertain. He sighed, fiddling with his shirt sleeve.

The thing was, he was supposed to come here today with Daphne as a way of jostling his memory. As they had no idea what kind of man he had been, they thought they should aim for variety in their visits, although they were still sticking to somewhat respectable places. Unfortunately, she had called a few hours ago that she couldn't make it because of her job, and told him that they could try again later. Emmanuel could have taken the offer, but he had thought that he was being a bit ludicrous. He was an adult, regardless of his missing memory. He could very well stop bothering Daphne and venture out for himself. So he had politely told her that he wanted to try out by himself tonight. Daphne sounded a little surprised, but had cheerfully bid him good luck.

Now, Emmanuel was feeling a mixture of anxiety and embarrassment as he tried to gather up enough nerve to actually go inside. Haven't you proved your point already? Apparently, you were the kind of man who didn't enjoy drinking. Let's go back to the house, a part of himself urged him, but he couldn't just let go. He had told Daphne that he would try, and he couldn't just go back empty handed. He inhaled deeply for one last time, and pushed the door in.

The bar, once he came inside, wasn't as overwhelming as he had imagined. The light was warm and the chattering of the people was more like a white noise above the melancholy melody filling the place. It helped that he had come in early enough that there were few customers as a result. He opted to sit on the bar rather than the booth so that he could save space for other people.

He perched gingerly on the seat, and looked around to place his order. A lone bartender was cleaning glass cups, oblivious of his arrival.

What was the etiquette here, did he just call out? Not finding the answer within himself, he resigned to learning from his mistake if he made another one.

"Excuse me, uh, sir?"

The man glanced at his direction, then did a double take, his blond hair whipping in the air at the force of his speed. Taken a back, Emmanuel couldn't do anything but stare at the man.

"What-," the man let out a high pitched noise, but visibly controlled himself. He swallowed hard, and tried again. "How come are you here?"

"I- came to have a drink," Emmanuel replied uncertainly. "That's what people do, isn't it?"

"Ye-es, it is," the bartender drew out each syllable, suspicion tinging his tone. He looked Emmanuel up and down critically. The man must have came to some favorable conclusion, for his voice suddenly changed all casual as he asked, "So, what's your name?"

Emmanuel blinked, trying to catch up with the man's mood. "Emmanuel."

The batender snorted. "Seriously? How did you get dumped with that kind of name?"

"It means God is with us."

"Yeah, man, I know that," the man commented lightly, but he didn't manage to cover up all his bitterness.

Emmanuel tilted his had. "You don't believe in God?"

"Ah, I know that God is out there somewhere," he said it like this was the most hilarious joke ever told on Earth. "I just don't trust his sense of humor or his general ability to care."

"Oh," Emmanuel said softly. "Did something happen to you?"

The man looked at him with an unreadable expression. The light in the bar made his eyes shine like amber. "Nothing to talk about," he said as he turned on his grin like flipping a coin. "So you were telling me how you got your name. Religious parents?"

"No, it's-" Emmanuel hesitated. These few weaks, he learned that he generally created awkwardness and that awkwardness was something to be avoided. "It's not a usual story."

"I'm all for something unusal," the bartender countered smoothly.

Having no defense at that, Emmanuel started to explain. "A few weeks ago, I was found by the river. I was drenched and confused. I had no memory. I still don't," his eyes flickered up to check the man's reaction. The man was covering his mouth with one hand, while the other one was wrapped around his waist. It was hard to read the man's face with all the shadow the gesture created. The man gave a slight nod for Emmanuel to continue.

"Daphne, the woman who found me, said that the God wanted her to find me," Emmanuel smiled a little as he recalled the expression on her face. "So when I came across the name Emmanuel, I thought this was for me."

The bartender remained silent.

"It's.. strange, isn't it?" Emmanuel asked tentatively.

"No, it's-," the man blew out a breath, and crossed his arms. "God and His fucking screwed up sense of humor, I swear. I bet He's sitting in a nice little beach somewhere, sipping coconuts with His damn mysterious smile on His face."

That painted a strangely vivid and profane image of God. Emmanuel quirked a little smile without quite meaning to. "I gather you have a lot of feeling toward this subject."

"Does it show?" The man spread his arms dramatically then snapped snapped his finger. "Oh, look at my manners, I didn't even give you a chance to place your order."

Emmanuel smiled ruefully. "I'm actually not sure what I want."

"Hmm, first time since you lost your memory?"

"Yes, I thought it might make me remember something, but," he shrugged. "There's nothing so far."

The bartender tapped his finger on his chin. "How about trying randomly? It'll be more fun that way."

"Maybe. But I don't think I have enough money for that. I thought I would just order something cheap, see if anything comes back to me, and go back."

"Oh, nonsense," the bartender waved his hand. "It's on me, brother, live a little."

"I can't possibly-"

"You definitely can."

Emmanuel huffed out a breath, and shook his head. "You're being too good for me."

"Am I?"

"Why would you do this for me?"

The bartender didn't answer. He picked up the glass he left alone in favor of the conversation and proceeded to wipe it clean. At this point, Emmanuel thought that the man was just using it as an excuse not to talk.

"You remind me of my brother," the man said after a length of silence.

"I do?" Emmanuel was a little surprised. As Daphne was an only child herself, siblings hadn't come up as a topic between them often. "Were you close to him?"

"Not really," the man fiddled with the glass. "Hardly saw him while he was growing up. You can count the times we actually interacted with each other in one hand."

"Oh," that was unusual for siblings, wasn't it? "Still, he must have been lucky to have you as a brother."

The man looked at him with a dumbfounded expression. After a second, he was laughing hysterically. "Dear Lord," he croaked as he gasped for breath. "That's the wrongest thing I've ever heard. And I've heard some fucked up shit."

"But you're nice," Emmanuel protested feebly as the man started to giggle again. "You were willing to pay for me just because I reminded you of your brother."

"That, my good man, is called guilt," the man wiped down the tears from the corner of his eyes. "You know, I kinda bought him a liquor store the last time we saw each other."

"A liquor store?"

"Yup, every bottle in that place. The kid deserved to get drunk."

Personally, Emmanuel thought that the gesture might have been a bit over the top and unhealthy, but who was he to judge a sibling dynamic? "He must have been in a really bad place," he said diplomatically.

"He tried to stand up to our fucked up family alone, so yeah, kinda. I didn't know what to do with him. I was angry at him for betraying our family, but I was also worried that he was signing his life over to wrong friends."

"So you bought him a liquor store?"

"So I bought him a liquor store," the man grinned. "What do you say to a cocktail? I can't buy you a liquor store, but mixing a drink that you'll never be able to taste outside of here is still within my power."

Emmanuel smiled. "I'd like that."

He watched as the man started to mix drinks with confident hands. His motion was fluid and the liquid flied from one place to another as if it knew exactly where it wanted to go. At last, he poured the finished work in a dainty little glass, presenting it with a flourish.

"I call it, Lethe."

Emmanuel watched the golden light playing around the violet that deepened into smooth black. "The river of oblivion?"

"Oh, so you know," the bartender said. "That's kind of what I want to tell my brother," and for the first time in their interaction, he looked Emmanuel straight in the eyes. "I know that you made a huge mistake, lil' bro, but you're not alone to take the blame. Our family failed you. Don't consume yourself with your guilt. If you need it, I forgive you. You're out. Let go of the past and enjoy your present."

Emmanuel blinked, rattled. That little speech moved him more than he could have imagined, considering that he was not the intended target. He licked his lips. "Are you ever going to tell that to your brother in person?"

The man smiled sadly. "I hope not," then he suddenly leaned across the table, grinning. He nudged the drink toward Emmanuel's direction.

"To your new start."

"To my new start," Emmanuel took it.

It was a wonder, how something so small could make him feel like he reclaimed a part of himself that had been missing from him before. He found himself talking excitedly about his trip to the bar, so much that Daphne herself got interested in meeting the mysterious bartender. They decided to go there once more together. This time, he told Daphne, he wouldn't forget to ask for his name.

However, his resolve turned out to be for naught. The bartender had already left the place. Emmanuel couldn't even find out who the man was, for everybody remembered him in different names.