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Anthony watched from a skyscraper as his fellow exorcists descended upon the streets of hell. He knew he should've been with them, lest he face Lute's wrath again, but Adam was down there, too, and Anthony really didn't want to bump into him while he was killing demons. Not after the creepy comments he'd been making about him and Molly about how "cute" and "innocent" they were. All while he was staring down. It'd been enough to make poor Molly leave the party early and miss the cake.
Of course, Anthony had tried to complain to Sera about this, but just like all the other times she'd brushed it off as "Adam being Adam", and that if he didn't want to deal with it then to hand his job to Molly. Which was a hell no for Anthony; after all, he could hardly handle being an exorcist, and he'd never foist that job onto his sweet, naive twin sister. In fact, the only reason he'd taken the job in the first place was to make Lute stop bullying Molly about it, which had worked. Still, Adam and Sera were obviously unhappy about having a male exorcist for whatever reason, despite the fact that Anthony was an effective exorcist.
Eventually, though, he would have to leave the skyscraper and kill some demons before anyone got suspicious. So he looked around for a crowded area away from Adam, and he noticed a small area a few blocks away filled with running demons. Anthony smirked behind his mask and flew towards the area, and as he came closer he noticed a sign with the words Cannibal Town written rather neatly.
Anthony grimaced. Gross. What freaks. He pulled out his spear and kept flying, slicing through a small group of black-eyed demons with ease. They couldn't even gasp before their torsos flew off their stomachs. Then, Anthony speared another demon who looked as though he'd been blocking the open entrance to a shop. Anthony almost felt a pang of guilt as he stepped in, but the sounds of running and the sight of an open door in the back kept his focus on his task. He ran through the shop, not bothering to look for anyone, and after the fleeing demons. Through a narrow alleyway, he was forced to dodge and fly over overturned obstacles and black tentacles that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Then, he began to see the ends of tails, or feet, or even the lower part of one of the demons as he slowly gained on them.
Finally, he heard one of them cry "No!" and Anthony grinned, knowing what that meant. He rounded a corner and, sure enough, one adult demon with short red hair, antlers, and a red suit who was bleeding from a gash in his side stood facing a dead end. He turned to Anthony with a strange, strained yellow smile that looked about as genuine as fool's gold. In one of his clawed hands he held a staff that looked almost like an old microphone in front of him like a weapon, which Anthony chuckled at.
"Gotcha now, demon," he said, stalking towards him. "There's nowhere to... to..."
He stopped, eyes widening as he processed a child no older than five standing behind the demon, clutching the end of his red tailcoat like a lifeline while sobbing. Then, he saw two other children on the demon's other side, holding each other for dear life. Anthony lowered the spear, shocked and confused, then looked back up to the demon, still holding his staff in a defensive position.
"Where did you get these kids?" Anthony demanded. "If you hurt them, I swear I'll--"
"I would never hurt the children, not after I've spent years having tea with their grandmother!" the demon snapped, his voice smooth and suave and blanketed with a strange filter, as though he were speaking through a radio. "You're the one with the angelic spear, hunting them down!"
"What? But that's impossible," Anthony protested, taking his mask off to get a better look at the situation. "Kids don't belong in Hell, especially not ones as young as them! You have to be lying." And he pointed his spear at the demon.
The demon's red eyes widened at seeing Anthony's face. He looked Anthony up and down, seemingly assessing him, then his face took on a confused, cautious expression as he lowered his staff.
"You... know about the hellborn, right?" he asked, sounding extremely suspicious.
"Hellborn?" Anthony repeated. "But... hellborn demons don't live in the Pride ring, only sinners do. That's why Exorcists only work in the Pride ring."
The demon's eyes widened even more, clearly more shocked than Anthony was. "You really don't know? Heaven lies to their exorcists? That's hysterical!" He let out a long, loud laugh that shocked Anthony and snapped him out of his confusion. He glared at the demon and tightened his grip on his spear.
"You're a lying monster," he growled. "I don't know where these kids came from, but it don't matter. I'm not going to let you stand there and hurt them, demon!"
He charged forward, grabbing the demon's throat and pinning him to the brick wall by his shoulder before he could blink. The demon cried out in shock and coughed, but Anthony didn't care. Then, to his surprise, one of the children grabbed his leg and started trying to pull him away.
"Wait! Please!" she pleaded, black eyes filling with tears. "Please don't hurt us, Mr. Angel! Please!"
"Please don't hurt her, Papa! Mama didn't do anything! Please, please, please!"
Anthony froze as the girl's pleas and the memory of his own flooded his ears. He looked down at the three children, two of whom were crying and the third barely holding back tears. He looked back to the red demon, who seemed to be struggling to breathe in Anthony's hold. Without thinking, he let go of the demon and took a step back, watching as he fell to the ground and was almost immediately surrounded by the three children.
Another memory flashed in front of him: his mother, lying on the ground in a bruised, sobbing mess while he, Molly, and Niss comforted her. He found himself dropping his spear and a tear sliding down his face.
"You... you were really protecting them?" he asked.
The demon coughed, glaring at Anthony. "Of course I was! What did you expect, with all these angels flying around targeting them?"
Anthony heard, but he couldn't believe it. Children... innocent children... born in Hell... in the Pride Ring of all places... how was that possible? He'd known about hellborn demons, but had always assumed they lived in the other rings, that the Pride Ring was only for sinners. Why would hellborn demons be in the Pride Ring? Why would they live in the Pride Ring? Everyone knew that the exorcists only attacked there!
Before he could make sense of anything, he heard the WHOOSH of an angel land behind him. He turned and, to his disgust, it was Adam. He was already covered in blood and he had that insane look in his eyes.
"What the hell are you doing, Anthony?!" he demanded with a demented chuckle. "Those are demons! Kill them!"
"No, Adam--" Anthony protested, putting his arms up to stop his boss. "They're hellborn, they're not sinners. We don't have to hurt them, they didn't do anything."
Behind him, the demon's eyes widened again, his anger subsiding as the angel defended him and the kids. The kids tried to pull him up and slowly, he got to his feet but didn't stand yet. Instead, he reached for his staff, prepared to defend himself and the children should he need to.
Adam raised an eyebrow at Anthony. "Don't have to hurt them? They didn't do anything? HA! Anty, they're demons! All they need to do is exist, and that's enough to kill them!"
"What?" Anthony gasped. "But they're just kids! They've hardly gotten a chance to sin! You wouldn't hurt a kid!"
"Uh, yeah I would," Adam said with complete indifference. "I'd punt them down the street and then drown them in demon blood." And he laughed at the visual, oblivious to Anthony's horror. "Okay, that's enough kidding around. Let's kill these bitches."
"No!" Anthony snapped, shoving Adam back when he tried to walk toward them.
Adam was shocked, then angry. He balled his hands into fists and let out a fake laugh. "You're starting to bug me, Spider-Boy. If you're too much of a pussy to do your job, move out of the way and I'll do it."
But Anthony didn't move. His light pink eyes blazed with fury as he positioned himself to block Adam. "Our job is to punish sinners, the cruelest beings in the universe. Not hunt and kill people who never asked for this life. I know my place, and what we're meant to do. I don't care who you are, I won't let you hurt these kids. And if you try, I'll tell Sera that you're breaking her rules, and--"
Adam cut him off with a peal of his annoying laughter. "You IDIOT! You think she doesn't know?! SHE FUCKING LOVES WHEN DEMONS DIE, HELLBORN OR NOT!" He laughed again for another minute, enjoying the obvious distress on Anthony's face. Then, after he calmed down and wiped a fake tear from his eye, he pulled out his sword and pointed it at him. "Tell you what, go flutter off to the square and I won't tell Sera that you're a bitch. You know what she'd do to you and your sister if I said something." He grinned at the way Anthony blanched behind his pinkish white fur. "Go, little bug. And pick up something for me, I'm starv--"
WHACK!
SMACK!
Adam stumbled back, clutching the hole in his mask and the immediate bruise from Anthony's double-punch. The kids behind him gasped and the demon's jaw dropped, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of the angel's boiling fury. While Adam nursed his face, the angel turned his head to the demon, locking his beautiful pink eyes onto the demon's. Out of the corner of his mouth, he whispered the words, "Go. Take them and hide. Now."
The demon didn't need telling twice; with a wave of his staff he and the kids disappeared in a cloud of black. Anthony couldn't help but smile, relieved, but Adam's cursing brought his attention back to the problem he created for himself.
"You little BITCH!" he shouted, shaking with rage. "You broke my fucking mask! AND you let them escape! You're as pussy and pissy as your stupid slutty sister!"
Anthony raised his spear to Adam. "Say another word about my sister, and I'll send ya to God himself."
"You fuckin' traitor..." Adam growled before smiling. "I wanted to get rid of you, anyways. So let's see how breakable you are."
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"There, there, all nice and comfy," Alastor cooed as he tucked Mina, Gregory, and Pat into Rosie's spare bed. "Miss Rosie will look after you until the exorcists leave, alright? Then, she'll find your parents and take you home."
"B-but what about you?" Pat asked, sniffling. "Will you be safe, Mr. Alastor?"
"Oh, don't you worry," Alastor replied. "I'll be just fine. I simply need to handle something of no concern!" He needed to find that angel and learn why he'd let them go. "Go to sleep, little ones!" And with another wave of his staff, he teleported back to the tailor's shop. Not exactly where he wanted to be, but he wanted to get the jump on that "Adam". He raced out through the back and down the maze he'd led the kids through previously when they had been running from the exorcist. However, this time he knew he was headed to a dead end.
Before he could reach that dead end, though, he noticed a growing pool of golden blood and the pained cries of the angel. Alastor ran faster, only to see Adam press his glowing hand against one of the angel's eyes while pinning him against the dead end. The angel screamed as the fur surrounding his eye burned and smoke rose from Adam's hand. Then, Adam shoved the angel down, grabbed the wings from his back and, before Alastor could stop it, ripped them out and threw them back, then stomped on the angel's back hard enough to pull a loud crack from the angel's body. The angel screamed again, golden blood dripping from his mouth as well as the many stab and gash wounds on his body. For some reason, seeing and hearing the angel's suffering made Alastor's heart shatter.
"You stupid, worthless slut!" Adam snapped, stomping on the angel again. "I knew I should've taken your sister! She would've followed my orders! At least I can now. I'll tell her you died begging to see her again, calling for her while these worthless demons ripped you apart. Bitches are so easy to manipulate. She'll be my bitch before the memorial gets planned. Ohh, I'm going to do so many things to that brat, and there's nothing that you can--"
"Enough." A barbed tentacle broke through Adam's stomach before he could say anything more, then it threw him as far away as it could, hopefully into the boiling sea.
Alastor lowered his staff, his eyes black with red radio dials, grinning his golden, evil grin. Then, he turned to the wounded angel, walked over, and knelt down to check his pulse. Luckily, he had one, albeit a faint one. Alastor hummed, impressed. "You are quite the fighter, Anthony." In response, the angel groaned weakly.
Not wanting the angel to die just yet, Alastor dug his arms under the angel's body and lifted him up. His four arms and two legs dangled lifelessly and his head rolled into Alastor's chest, sending a fuzzy warmth into his heart. Alastor hummed again, but didn't comment as he turned to a bright green portal. With a final glance around to make sure there weren't any other angels, Alastor walked through, the bleeding angel held protectively in his arms.
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Slowly returning to consciousness, Anthony groaned. His back hurt like hell, and his left eye throbbed with a numb thud. He slowly opened his right eye, gingerly lifting his hand to touch his left, only to find it bandaged. Huh. That was odd. He'd expected to be double dead, or cut up into pieces to be some monster's dinner. Why was he bandaged up on-- he shifted a bit, ignoring the searing pains in his back-- a surprisingly comfy surface?
As he awakened, he began to register his surroundings: a gray ceiling, blood red walls, a desk with a red rolling chair, an open closet full of similar-looking red tail coats, a bedside dresser with a light red radio that was currently playing an old jazz song, and a plush bed with a velvet queen's blanket. Confused and a bit dizzy, Anthony slowly pulled himself out of the warm, cozy bed, only to make another discovery: his tight gray and white exorcist uniform was gone, replaced by an extremely comfortable red night gown. He also noticed that there was heavy bandaging and wrapping around his torso, something exorcists didn't typically get as Sera would just heal them.
So... why was he bandaged and in a red room?
He didn't have to ponder for long as, suddenly, the door opened and in came the demon from the alley. Anthony started to panic and looked around wildly for a weapon, but the pain in his back forced him down.
"Goodness, darling! Do be careful!" the demon chastised as he walked over. Anthony braced himself, but the demon only readjusted the blanket and set down a tray with... a tea set? Anthony watched in total confusion as the demon poured two cups of tea and held one out for him. When Anthony continued to stare, the demon held it closer to his face. "Well, go on. It's only tea, no need to be concerned. Honestly, if I'd wanted you dead I would've simply left you in the alley." Anthony looked at the demon, confusion clear on his face, but he accepted the teacup.
"Yes, yes, a good cup of tea is exactly what you need, my dear," the demon said. "To be candid, I wasn't certain I should save you, but I knew you were telling the truth in the alley and that you didn't want to harm the children, which is to be admired. Any other exorcist would've eviscerated them before I could summon a portal. And don't worry about them, they're safe and sound with a friend of mine. Unfortunately, their parents did not survive the onslaught-- I'm sure that will haunt you-- so they will be living with their grandmother, Susan." The demon groaned at the name and took a sip of tea. "Charming woman. Speaking of charming, I regret to inform you that your former leader-- Alan, or whatever you called him-- survived my attempt to kill him. Just as well, I wouldn't have wanted his body to taint the boiling sea, anyways." He paused to take a breath and looked Anthony over. "Well? Aren't you going to take a sip? I worked hard to make that tea."
Despite his wariness, Anthony obeyed out of politeness. The tea was rather sweet, and it brought a small smile to his lips once it hit his tongue. He sipped a bit more, and a soothing warmth spread down his throat into his heart. He immediately wanted to ask for more, but seeing a teasing look in the demon's eyes shut him up and resigned him to a slight blush of embarrassment. Still, the demon filled his cup with a hearty chuckle.
"I must say, my effeminate fellow, you are quite a delight," he said. "More of an angel than the exorcists. Your name is Anthony, correct? That's what the exorcist called you, anyways."
"Yeah," Anthony murmured into his cup. "But I've also been called Tony, Ant... Anty..." He grimaced and took another sip. "What's your name? Probably something badass, right?"
The demon chuckled and rubbed at his eyes, hoping to hide the pink on his cheeks. "Well, I suppose it would depend on your definition of badass, but my name is Alastor Dumas. Enchanté, my dear." Then, before Anthony could blink, Alastor took one of his lower hands and kissed his knuckles, which turned Anthony's face bright pink.
Anthony looked away before Alastor could notice his blush. "Where am I and why am I here?"
"You are currently in my bedroom," Alastor answered, still holding Anthony's hand. "I would have let you rest in a guest room, however I neglected to have one built as I never expected to have an actual guest. I'll have one constructed for you."
"You won't need to," Anthony said. "If the exorcists don't come back to finish me off, I'll jump off a roof or something. Without my sister, I've got nothing to life for."
His shoulders sagged and the light drained from his eyes. Alastor's eyes flashed for a brief second before quickly masking it with a calm and sympathetic expression as he gently patted Anthony's hand.
"Nonsense, my darling!" he told the fallen angel. "There are many things to live for, especially down here! In addition, I did say that you are a delight to be around, mon ange, and I meant it. I want you to stay with me, and I can assure you I will go to extreme lengths to keep you here."
Alastor's eyes flashed again and his radio voice seemed to pitch up a bit. Anthony shrank back, but quickly regained his composure. "Why do you want me to stay? I'm an exorcist, you should hate me."
"Oh, believe me, I did," Alastor told him. "When you cornered me, accused me of being a liar, stabbed me with an angelic spear... had I not been drained of my power due to saving so many souls, I would have eviscerated you where you stood. But then you defended those children from your superior, assaulted him, fought him so we could escape. And despite getting your eye burned, having your wings ripped out, being stabbed repeatedly by your own weapon, and losing everything, you still fought to stay alive. And I could never hate that, mon ange." He hummed, a thoughtful expression dawning on his face. "You know, while I like your name, I don't think it truly suits you. In fact, I think as the only angel with the true personality of an angel, you deserve to own what you are. It is the Pride ring, after all!"
"So, what?" Anthony asked. "You want me to start calling myself Angel?"
"Precisely!" Alastor agreed, squeezing Anthony's hand. "Angel, my Angel..." He moved his hand to cup Anthony's chin. "Yes, I think that would fit you quite well, don't you?"
Anthony-- Angel-- blushed even harder, but the warmth in his heart didn't fade one bit. He glanced away and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face, then turned to see if Alastor was still smiling at him, and he was. There was no disgusted grimace, no confused eyebrow raise, and no hate or malice in any of his features. In fact, there was a tinge of pink on his face and a softness in his eyes that Angel hadn't seen before.
Maybe things won't be so bad down here, he thought with a smile.
"You know, I think you're right, Alastor," he said. "Angel... it is a beautiful name, if a little ironic."
"That's what I like most about it, mon ange," Alastor cooed, kissing Angel's knuckles again. "So... will you stay with me, or will I have to try and convince you?"
Angel smiled even wider at Alastor and held his two hands with his other three. "I think I'll stay 'til you get bored of me."
"Oh, that won't be for a long time, mon cher," Alastor hummed, rubbing Angel's hands.
Not for a long, long, long time. Not for years, decades, centuries. And most certainly, not ever. Angel was Alastor's, and Alastor was Angel's, and nothing would ever change that for the fallen Angel Dust or the Radio Demon.