Chapter Text
You hadn't meant to fall for him, and yet you had. You'd fallen for him harder than when he fell from the sky.
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The largest and longest rainstorm you'd ever seen was pounding on the windows of your house that night, lightning flashing and everything.
You'd always liked rainstorms; you like to imagine it cleansing the world of filth.
You had a cup of your favourite tea with you as you read the latest in a new series. The mood of the pages matched perfectly with your own; melancholy and wishing for company. A particularly large explosion of sound from outside made you look up from your reading.
Getting up and peering out the largest living room window, you caught sight of an unusually bright lightning strike.
The lightning strike hit far end of your enormous backyard, one of the perks of having a country home. You pursed your lips together, that lightening might have started a fire. Even if the storm would probably put it out, you felt the need to check it out.
Gearing up in your black rain coat, you headed out into the darkened world; hauling the fire extinguisher with you. (your aunt had insisted that there be one by every exit)
The wind was awful and you almost slipped and fell twice. Not to mention the muddy nightmare the ground had become.
As you reached the top of the small hill in front of the hit site, the wind flicked your hood back; letting your hair free and promptly blinding you. Through your tresses you squinted, trying to assess the damage to your property.
Oh hey, orange light. That meant the grass was on fire.
You pulled the pin out of the extinguisher and readied it for combat, then headed towards the orange light. As you neared, you noticed the ground changing from grass to earth. You were now standing in a crater.
And at the centre of the crater was a hole of orange light.
“What the fuck?” You muttered as you crept closer. Standing above the hole, you stared down at the glowing orange. It didn't flicker like fire, and you couldn't feel any heat either. Putting the extinguisher down, you dropped to your knees and reached down at the glow.
Your fingers were met with soft feeling feather. Did a magical glowing bird crash into your yard?
Your eyes had adjusted to glow you got a good look at the creature that had come from above.
“Oh dear lord...” You breathed, your hands covering your mouth in surprise. There, lying in a muddy hole, was an honest to god angel. A glowing orange angel.
With sun glasses.
You noticed the water was beginning to fill the crater and inevitably pool in the deeper hole with the angel in it. Snapping out of your shock, you reached down and heaved the angel from his pit.
His wings got in the way a bit, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. The angel was fairly light, light enough that you could carry his weight on your back no problem.
You fumbled a bit with the door before getting inside. Once in, you ignored the muddy footprints you left and laid the angel down on the couch. You ran your fingers through your soaked hair, flicking droplets of water everywhere.
Now what.
Looking him over, you noticed three things. First, he had no legs, just a long glowy snake tail thing waist downward. Second, he was also soaked and very muddy. Third, he was shivering now.
How does one care for an angel anyway?
Dropping your rain coat and boots off in the entrance area, you proceeded to run around the house getting the necessary supplies.
Soon, you'd dried the worst of the mud and water on your unexpected house guest and had him comfortably placed in one of the many rooms of your oversized house. Well, your Aunt's house; but she was only around like once a month so it basically was yours.
You held the sun glasses the angel had been wearing, they were cracked and dirty; and surprise, surprise, orange just like everything else about him. Were all angels orange, or did they come in an array of colours.
You looked over at the sleeping form of him, glowing just the same as he'd been outside. His wings had been a bit difficult to deal with, but eventually you'd managed to lay him on his side and tuck them against his back.
Before that, you'd made sure they weren't broken. You thought they weren't broken at least, they'd opened and close easily enough; that had to be a good sign.
You sighed and flicked a bit of dried mud off the shades in your hands, waiting for the angel to wake up was more boring than you'd thought it would be. But you were too wired to think about anything else, a book couldn't remedy this.
But maybe some cooking could. You hadn't had dinner yet anyway, and you were sure your guest was going to be hungry when he finally rose from slumber. If angels ate anything that is.
You stood up and let yourself out of the room quietly, stopping halfway to whisper “Sleep tight angel” before closing the door with only a slight creak.
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It was about three in the morning when he finally awoke.
You were mulling over your thoughts in a fit of insomnia when you heard a crash coming from the upper floors, where you'd left the angel.
Placing the notepad you'd been doodling on the coffee table, you headed up stairs to investigate the noise that undoubtedly was coming from your guest.
You walked light footed and as quietly as you could, peeking around the corner into the hallway.
The angel was indeed up, and he seemed to searching for something. And muttering to himself.
“Shit, shit, shit! Where are they? Where the hell am I?” He whispered to himself as he swooped around the hall, flapping his wings now and again. You watched as he opened a few rooms and looked into them. You weren't worried about privacy, there wasn't anything in those rooms anyway.
Except your own which he was entering right that moment.
“Holy shit, the hell kind of room is this?” He said out loud as he entered your private space, your sanctuary. Ignoring the need for caution, you rushed at his floating form; tackling him to the ground.
Or that was the plan at least, he avoided you easily.
He didn't say anything as you sat rubbing your now sore arms. You glared at him pointed an accusatory finger at him. “It's not nice to invade a girl's privacy you know!”
He stared blankly at you for moment, his eye brows knotted in confusion, before answering. “...Who the hell are you?”
“I'm (insert name here), now get out of my room!” You stood up quickly and continued. “I don't care if you’re an angel or not, my room is my space! And you’re not welcome!”
He responded with a cross between a snort and laugh.
“What're you talking about? Like hell I'm an angel!” He said, shaking with repressed laughter.
You blinked rapidly. “You’re not...? But what about your wings! And you fell out of the sky! And your all glowy and stuff! If you’re not an angel, then what the hell are you?”
“That is a very long clusterfuck of a tale, please don't ask me to elaborate,” He said, waving his hand; dismissing the subject. He then crossed his arms and frowned. “Now where the fuck did you put my shades? I feel fucking naked without them.”
“Downstairs,” You pointed towards the stairs. “Follow me.”
You start walking back down, ignoring his gaze on your back. Okay, so he wasn't an angel. That was a tiny bit of a disappointment. But on the bright side, he could still be an alien or something. Whatever he was, he certainly didn't look human.
You shot a look over your shoulder; he was following you, but in his own fashion. He floated about five feet off the ground, using his wings to change direction every few moments. With the house mostly dark, his orange glow was all you had to go by; but it was more than enough.
“In here,” You said as you both entered the kitchen. It was clean as a whistle, courtesy of your cleaning frenzy; a result of the long hours waiting for your guest to wake up. He swooped past you soon as he caught sight of his shades, which had been resting on the table next to his dinner.
He slipped them on and sighed in relief. Guess those sun glasses were really important to him.
“There's no way they were this clean after I did that belly flop into the ground. You clean them?” He asked, pointing at the sparkly clean lenses.
You shrugged. “Seemed like the right thing to do. But they're kind of cracked. Couldn't do much to fix that. Sorry.”
“Naw man, this is great. Thanks. Really,” He said. His gaze flickered to the food on the table. “Soooooo, am I to assume the delicacies on the table are for me?”
“Go right ahead,” Before you could even finish saying that, he was on the food like a starving man. You watched as he devoured the whole plate in seconds. Sitting down, you stared at him from across the table. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you asked him a question. “So what's your name space cadet?”
“.....” He didn't respond. Swallowing the mouthful of food, he burped and leaned back in his chair. “Name's Davesprite. Howdy.”
“Davesprite huh,” You raised an eyebrow. “Interesting name. Do all angels have odd names?”
“I told you I’m not an angel.”
“I don't really have anything else to call you.”
Davesprite leant his head to the side, a motion that was probably accompanied by eye rolling. “How about this, you call me what I am? Which is a sprite by the way.”
You looked into your vast memories and knowledge of fictional and non-fictional creatures. It took a second for you to get the words out. “You're a... fairy?”
Davesprite grimaced. “Hell. No. I am not some prissy little girl’s imaginary friend. I am a game sprite. I’m not even remotely related to fairies. Don't even bring that up.”
It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Fine, fine. Don't get your feathers in a wad,” You reached over and took his plate. “Seconds?”
“Absolutely.”
“Alrighty then,” You got up and started pulling leftovers out of the oversized fridge. Everything in the mansion was like that, oversized and fairly empty. You spoke to him as you piled some more mashed potatoes on his plate. “Tell me Davesprite, you said you’re a game sprite? How does that work exactly, are from a video game?”
“Kind of I guess, but it was a video game on a cosmic level. Shit was so not a run of the mill kids play toy, that's for sure. Should have never played that fucking death trap. Destroyed two universes, not one, two fucking universes.”
You came back to the table with the once again full plate. Davesprite mumbled some thanks before digging in again. You watched him as you thought. A game? What kind of game? And how was it a death trap? And blowing up universes? Was that even possible?
You'd always been a believer in the impossible, but that sounded farfetched even to you.
“So, you got a name?” Davesprite asked suddenly, bringing you back to the present.
“Uh, yeah, my name's (Your name here),” You brushed some loose hairs from your face. “By the way, in case you were wondering, we're the only ones in the house right now. My Aunt is somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle at the moment, and I doubt she'll be back any time soon. So you can stay as long as you want. But if you do anything at all that endangers my safety, I may have you bludgeon you.”
“Noted (YNH), I’ll keep that in mind,” Davesprite replied coolly, pulling a poker face. “So I’m guessing you have a strife specibus? Something involving blunt force trauma?”
“Baseball bats and extinguishers. The latter being a bit unconventional, but is actually very effective. Not to mention that they're very easy to find in this house, my Aunt was adamant about having them in every single room. Even the bathrooms.”
“Weird Aunt.”
“Says the birdy boy fairy,” You said with a smirk. This elicits a smirk back from Davesprite.
“You’re alright, (YNH),” He said, crossing his arms. “Haven't met many girls who could go toe to toe with me. When I had toes at least.”
“You had feet at some point? That's surprising. Where'd they go?”
“Another story for another time, right now I’m too tired to think. You have any good movies to watch? Do you even have a TV? What day is it anyway? Did I even end up in the twenty-first century? Shit, am I in the nineties? If I am I swear to god I will throw myself back into the space time stream.”
“Wow, motor mouth much? And yes, this is the twenty-first century. Twenty fourteen actually. What time did you come from? You seem to know enough about modern appliances so it can't be too far off from now...”
“Close enough to this time that I’ll be fine. Now, about that TV...?” Davesprite asked, looking towards the hallways leading away from the brightly lit kitchen and into the darken house.
“Downstairs, I have what is basically a home theater. Not kidding,” You grab his dishes and throw them in the sink. You'll wash them later. “You wanna watch something, even though it's some ridiculous time in the night?”
“Hell yes, I haven't watched a new movie in years. I’ve had to deal with fucking Nic Cage for three fucking years; I am even more done than burrito tossed into a volcano. Take me to the movies (YNH), I'm begging you.”
You laughed a little at his weird metaphor, and lead him into the basement.
He practically swooned at the massive room, even rapped a little about the plush red couches that dotted the room. Who knew magical floating bird boys could rap? And pretty well at that.
He chose a Muppets movie oddly enough, his poker face softening as he found it on the shelf. He handed it to you and the flicker emotions were gone. You popped it into the system without much more than a comment about how you enjoyed the movie yourself, only getting a mumbled sound in response.
“Can I sit here?” You asked, coming over to his claimed spot on the middle couch, your favourite one no less.
“Your house isn't it?”
“Technically my Aunt's.”
“Same thing,” He shrugged. He shifted over to the other side of the couch and tucked his wings behind his back. You thanked him and took a seat on the other end, brushing away a stray orange feather. You both sat back and watched the trailers, content to leave the un-asked question hanging in the air for now.
Davesprite didn't make it through even twenty minutes of the movie, falling asleep as Gonzo started his adventure to show his alien brethren he was there.
You snickered a little when you noticed he was drooling a little. Poor thing, too tired to stay awake anymore. You also noticed that the mud that had been everywhere on him had disappeared. Now how had that happened?
You shook your head and muttered about sprites and their weird magic. Ah well, another mystery to investigate at a later date. You felt eyes getting bleary, and you rubbed them.
Flicking the movie off, you lifted yourself up with a little bit of a stumble and groped the side of the room for the shelves that had the blankets. Pulling the first one you find, you headed back to the couch with Davesprite sleeping on it. You pulled him down from his sitting position and lay him out with the Hello Kitty blanket covering him.
Satisfied that he'd be safe and comfy for the night, you stretched and left to retire to your own room.
You'd see more of Davesprite tomorrow anyways, assuming this wasn't some dream. You really hoped it wasn't.