Chapter 1

"Really Gilbert, I just don't feel like drinking tonight," the blond said, pulling his fingers through his hair wearily.

The albino looked aghast, "Don't feel like drinking!" His accent was very heavily German, not that Alfred really ever noticed anymore. Right now, though, it was slowly turning his headache into a full blown migraine, "Since when does Alfred 'Fucking Awesome' Jones not feel like going out! Dude, Francis and Tonio are gonna be there too!"

"All the more reason," the blond sighed, "Look, I have a headache as it is. I think I'm just going to go home tonight."

Gilbert put his fists on his hips and glared at the younger man, "You're going to spend your FRIDAY NIGHT at HOME after the AWESOME me and your BEST FRIEND since, like, FOREVER just asked you to come hang at the new club downtown?" He shook his head in disappointment, "So unawesome."

"I'll be unawesome for a night," he turned to leave, "Besides, I'm sure you know how to have fun without me."

"Hell yeah I do! And I expect you to get better for next weekend! I'll not be friends with anyone unawesome." Alfred smiled at his friend's way of telling him to take it easy. He waved back.

He lived only about five blocks from the building. Outside he looked around and sighed. When he turned eighteen he left home and eagerly came to the city, hoping to study to become an archaeologist. He'd assumed it would be exciting, full of promises, parties, and people. He quickly learned that it was, but it was also crowded, loud, and cold. And not just cold as in weather (which it frequently was) but distant. You knew people but you didn't really KNOW anyone. About two weeks in, though, he was lucky enough to find that one of his old friends from school, Gilbert, a year older than him, lived around here too. That helped. Slightly. But especially recently he's found that he's slowly becoming more anti-social. It's been eight months, December fifteenth, Christmas coming up, cold as Hell in Norway, his job is draining and flat, and school was not going well.

He wrapped his iconic bomber jacket closer around him as he mentally prepared for the cold, lonely walk home. After just a few moments of walking Alfred began to regret not going with the Trio, headache or not. The first group he ran into were a group of college kids, laughing and acting like they were already pretty trashed early on into the night. They were definitely not going home anytime soon. And they probably wouldn't be going home alone either.

Now that he was thoroughly depressed he stared noticing all the couples around him. When they walked by him they almost seem to sidle away, as if he had some kind of disease. But the worst was the block right before his apartment. There's a nondescript bar he sometimes stops at that was usually for people who wanted to be alone. If that wasn't sad enough, this particular night one gentleman stumbled OUT of the bar. He looked like a businessman in a suit that looks like he'd been sleeping in it for a while. It wasn't even eight yet and the man was drunk and heading home.

That is, he was until he stumbled on his own feet and fell. Automatically, Alfred went over to help him up, "Ya alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. 'm all righ'. Jus' take me round the corner here to the lil pub. I'll even buy ya a drink."

Alfred thought for a moment. He really didn't want to… He glanced at the intoxicated man and mentally sighed. He would be severely rude to not at least escort the incapacitated man to his destination.

The inside was dimly lit as Alfred led the man to a seat at the bar. After he had a seat he patted the one next to him, "Ha a drink. Not often I have comp'ny."

Alfred shook his head, "I have work I should do. Thank you though. You gonna catch a cab to get home?"

The man nodded wearily, "Yeah, no need tuh fret. 'ey!" He yelled just as Alfred was about to leave, "Don' work yerself alone, got me?" Alfred hesitated a moment before nodding.

'Don't work yourself alone'. The line tumbled through his head as he continued back to his apartment. Even after he'd gotten a shower and changed into boxers and a loose t-shirt it wouldn't leave him alone. Granted he's heard 'Don't work yourself to death', who hasn't? But for whatever reason this phrase struck a chord, and he couldn't figure out why.

Suddenly the apartment seemed smaller and stuffy. He would never be able to relax at this rate. He sighed and grabbed his bomber jacket before heading to the roof.

The roof was his place of solitude and peace. He loved how much closer he was to the sky, clear tonight with a crescent moon. If it weren't for all the lights he could have probably seen the billions of stars he could see when he was at home. As it was only the moon and a few of the brighter stars shone through. From here he could also hear the sounds of the city; cars, people, music from night clubs. It made him long for the quiet nights listening to the insects and the owls, even if they were of the screech variety that never failed to make him jump out of his skin. He could always laugh about it later. Now the only thing that has a similar effect were car alarms, and he could never manage to laugh about them.

Not wanting to see the street lights, he lay on the cement by the rail, looking up into the darkness. 'Don't work yourself alone'. The man was drunk he probably had no idea what he was talking about.

While he was thinking he vaguely noticed the sound of flapping reaching his ears. Bringing himself back to the present he focused on the sound and noticed that a voice seemed to go along with it. It was still too far to make out words but the voice was angry and slurring, probably drunk.

Flapping and a voice. Wait, what? Alfred's sky blue eyes snapped open from his relaxation and darted around as he searched the starry canopy.

Movement caught his eye. He focused on it and noticed that whatever it was was obviously not able to fly straight. And… it seemed a tad larger than a bird so…

Suddenly the white object plummeted. It headed straight towards his rooftop. Acting almost purely on instinct, Alfred leapt to his feet and ran. His heart pounded; to him the object was falling much faster than normal. He found himself positioned under the object about two seconds before it hit him. He gave a dull "Oof!" as he himself hit the ground under the weight of the thing.

After finding his wind he found that he was covered in a sort of dead weight so that sitting up was difficult. When he had (with his one hand because the other was still holding the soft, warm thing) he gasped as he got a good look at the thing that fell.

It was an angel. He wasn't trying to be corny or anything, like calling a pretty girl and angel or whatever. This was an actual living, breathing angel. Wings, halo, and everything. He'd caught the angel stomach down so he got a good look at the wings. He got a sudden urge to reach out and stroke those wings. When he did ever so gently he pleasantly discovered that they were like soft down. Gingerly, he turned the body over so that it was sitting in his lap. The angel was a boy, a few years older than he. His skin was pale and blemish-less, although his face was flushed probably from the alcohol. His hair was slightly shaggy but almost as soft as his wings, with a silkier feel. The only oddity was the eyebrows that were rather thick; although they marred his face not whatsoever. Right now they were drawn down in slight irritation or frustration. Alfred felt his heart skip slightly as he realized what a perfect and a beautiful creature he was holding.

After studying his face his eyes flicked to the little circlet of gold that hovered over the angel's head. Unlike movies and cartoons, the circlet didn't seem to be a solid gold or even a substance. I just looked like a circle of light. Fascinated, he reached out to touch it. As his fingers drew near, it seemed to fade. When they were supposed to come into contact it faded completely. The angel let out a soft whimper, as if of slight pain. Fear pulsed through Alfred as he was terrified that he may have hurt him. He wrenched his hand away and watched as the halo retook its original position. The angel looked like it had when he began with the halo.

When he shivered in the December cold Alfred made the decision to bring the creature inside, at least until it was conscious. He lifted the creature and held him close as he made his way back to his room.