Chapter Text
Red hot pain…that was the first thing he felt, when the blessed unconsciousness slipped away from him. He has never been in such an agony before. Breathing hurt, moving hurt even more. Existing itself hurt. He was forced to the floor, before they chained him to a cold stone wall by his wrists. His body was covered with bruises, his vision was blurred, because of the blood dripping in his eyes form the long gash from his forehead and he suspected more than a few broken bones. But the worst of all was his back. He felt it clearly. They were gone. The hags took them away. The agony he felt in his body was nothing compared to the torment he experienced in his heart.
He heard noises and harsh sound from the distance. It came closer and closer.
„Well, look at that.” an ugly female voice shrieked. “Our little angel is back with us.”
“Good.” said another hectic voice. His head was yanked up brutally by his blonde locks and he was forced to look into the ugly witch’s swamp-coloured eyes.
“You’ll make us beautiful and immortal, gorgeous.” she said, licking her lip hungrily. “We only need your precious heart to complete the ritual.” She instantly pulled a dagger out of her pocket, ready to stab the blonde boy in the chest to take away his heart and his life.
He knew what they wanted as soon as he got captured. If you took possession of an angels wings and heart, with the right spells, you could gain immortality and breath-taking beauty. But you called the rage of Heaven upon you. Killing an angel was one of the worst sins. You cursed yourself forever with it. Clearly, the three witches weren’t too scared about that.
“Wait, you idiot.” cried the third witch. “You can’t just stab him. The dagger needs to be cursed by a demon. Otherwise he’ll just disappear when he dies. I can’t believe I allied with two imbecilic. You don’t know a thing.”
They argued like hungry wolves, before the eldest took control. The angel could only watch the preparations for his slaughtering. If they summon a demon and it curses the blade, his corpse will be forced to stay on Earth after his death. He won’t be able to reborn ever. Fear gripped his heart, when he saw the last touches of the giant pentagram in front of him. He didn’t want to die. But there was nothing he could do. He was weak as a new-born lamb and, without his wings, he was almost powerless.
His thoughts wondered away, unable to look at the disgusting patterns on the floor anymore.How could he be so foolish? He was on an assignment not far away, and when he finished, he wanted to look around a bit. He was always a curious one, and he let his instincts guide him. He ended up at a strangely familiar part of the city, although he was sure that he has never been here before. His heart was pulling him towards a forest at the edge of the city and when he stepped inside he was overwhelmed by the sweet smell that hit his nose. He felt that smell before. There was no doubt. But when? He was so engaged with his thoughts, that he didn’t feel them coming. When he saw the first witch, it was already too late. He tried to fight, desperate to get away, but their magic was too strong.
They tortured him for fun, tore his wings out of his body and now they were planning to cut his heart out. And it was all his fault. He let his guards down foolishly at the forest, desperate to find answers.
“I’ll do the summoning, before you fuck it up.” shrieked the oldest hag standing with her back to the angel. He didn’t dare to listen to the summoning, he kept his eyes closed and turned his face away from his destiny.
“Is it already coming?” one of the witches said in a surprised tone. “You haven’t even started…”
The unmistakable smell hit his nose. It wasn’t unpleasant; it resembled him to burning wood. He felt himself calming down without any particular reason, when he smelled it. “I can’t be a coward.” he thought. “I mustn’t give them the pleasure to show my fear. And I have to look into the demon’s face. It needs to know what it’s supporting.” He opened his eyes slowly, lifting his head up. But he couldn’t see the demon. The witches were blocking his view.
“I summoned you, Demon.” said the eldest witch in a supremacy voice. She knew the pentagram will protect her from Hell’s creature. “We need you to curse this dagger.” With that, she lifted the piece of metal towards the demon.
“You have an angel in here. I can smell him.” a low, velvety male voice sad. He sounded...furious. The angel shivered. Something tickled his mind, but the pain chased it away.
“You are not allowed to talk, demon. Curse the blade and go back to Hell.” cried the witch with an evil laugh.
It was a pure mistake. The angel felt the room heating up in the blink of an eye. The witches backed up faltering in their long robes. “It’s not possible.” one of them said in terror. “You cannot cross the pentagram.”
“In fact, I can, if the one’s drawing it is a pathetic and inferior creature. You made a mistake. You didn’t close it properly. I would say that maybe next time, you’ll be smarter. But there won’t be a next time.”
The demon had incredible power. The angel could only see flashes of red light and hear the shrieks of the witches. It made him shiver, but e couldn’t feel sorry for them. They deserved their fate. Being awake was suddenly too overwhelming and he started to pass out again. Black dots danced before his eyes and the room started to spin. He felt the heat of the demon getting closer to him, but he was too weak and tired to lift his head up. After an eardrum splitting clink, his arms fell next to his side, and anguish shot through his back, making him cry out in pain. He was slowly lifted up from the floor. The arms around him were almost…gentle. He heard a hiss. “Was the demon in pain?” he wondered, before darkness swallowed him again.
---
He woke up with a start, and sat up without a second thought. He regretted it immediately, when he felt the sharp pain. His eyes started to water and the room wanted to turn out of its corners. But as he started to get used to the sensation, ha realised that the pain was getting duller, and the spinning was slowing down.
“You need to call your friends.” said the velvety voice not an inch away from him. For some reason, it was shaking. The angel carefully turned his head to the side. What he saw truly surprised him. Demons were supposed to be ugly and repelling. The angel saw a couple of them during his life. But even in the dim light, the man standing in front of him was different. He had huge, whiskey coloured eyes and long eyelashes. His features were smooth and his face was framed with shiny, dark brown hair. He strangely reminded Newt of someone he has seen in a dream.
“Where am I?” the angel asked weakly. “What is this place?” He searched for the answer in the demon’s brown irises. The other man was clearly distressed. His pupils were dilated and when the angel looked at his torso he saw angry, red marks covering his arms.
“We are in a church.” the demon said, almost spatting the last word. “I thought holy water will make you feel better, but it didn’t help a lot.”
“You brought me to a church?” the angel asked in awe.
“Yup.” answered the demon matter of factly.
“And you saved me from the witches.” the angel continued. “You came before the summoning.”
“No, I didn’t. The hags angered me, that’s all. They thought I was their servant. That’s why they had to die.” the demon explained. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself as well.
“And you took me to the church, because….?”
The demon laughed humourlessly. “Because killing an angel or let it die would be an exclamation of war. And I’m not foolish enough to start war with the heavenly horde.”
“Well it doesn’t really matter, why you did it. I’m very grateful and I owe you.” said the angel. The demon just shrugged, not looking at him.
“Can you help me stand up? I need to call someone to fetch me.” He could see reluctance in the demons eyes, but he stepped a bit closer to him, offering his left hand. The angel grabbed his forearm, standing up slowly. The demon hissed in pain and when the blonde man took away his hand from the other’s forearm, he saw fresh, burning red marks on it.
“What the hell?” he asked, unable to stop himself.
The demon snorted. “You should rather say what the heaven. Touching a creature as pure and innocent as you burns me. My soul is stained and dark. It’s painful to touch the light.” There was something in his face, something deep and painful.
“I didn’t know that.” the angel said in awe. “I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be.” answered the soldier of Hell, shaking his head. “It’s not like I could bring you here without touching you.”
“I’m still sorry for hurting you.” said the angel stubbornly.
“Then be.” smirked the demon. “It’s not my problem. Can you go home without your wings?” he asked curiously.
“Yes, my friends can help me. And they’ll grow back in time.” the angel answered, painfully aware of his missing wings. “What about your skin?”
“It’ll heal in time.” the demon answered with a shrug.
“I know you didn’t save me, because of your good heart.” said the angel, although he doubted it a bit. “But can I ask your name? I don’t really want to call you ‘demon’ in my head for the rest of my life.”
“Will I be in your head for the rest of your life?” the demon asked with his usual smirk, but again, emotions were buried under that mask, heart-breaking ones, the angel couldn’t figure out. “That’s an awful lot of time if you think about it.” After a small pause though, he looked onto the angel. “It’s Thomas.”
“Nice to meet you, Thomas.” The whole situation was unreal. Angels and demons detested each other. And here he was, having a small talk with one of them. Who actually saved his life. “My name is Newt.” He stretched his arm out for a handshake.
The demon looked at him so intently it made his skin prickle. “Hehe, good try. As flattering as it’s to meet you, there’s not a chance that I’ll shake your hand. My skin hurts well enough without another touch.” said Thomas smiling. It was his first true smile and it looked nice on his handsome face.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” said Newt, withdrawing his arm abruptly.
“Do all angels apologise all the time. I’ve only met you…an hour ago and you apologised me more than anyone else in my whole life.” the brunet said in a teasing tone.
“We’re supposed to be warm-hearted and noble, remember?” Newt teased back.
He stumbled a bit forward, feeling weak again. Strong hands caught his shoulders, steadying him.
“I know I’m charming and irresistible, but you should really go back home now to heal yourself.” Thomas said through gritted teeth. “Before you kill us both.” He let go of Newt, but stayed close.
The blonde grabbed his necklace. Fortunately, the witches didn’t take it away. He kissed the cross on it. It was the only way he could sign his friends’ that he was in trouble. They were only allowed to use it in case of emergencies, when they couldn’t get home on their own.
“A cross? Really? That’s just cliché.” snorted the demon.
Seconds later two angels appeared out of thin air. Relief washed through Newt’s body. Gally and Sonya.
“What happened?” asked Gally in a demanding tone, drawing a sword out pointing it to Thomas. “Did he hurt you? I’ll kill him in an instant.”
“No, Gally, stop. He actually saved me. Put that away.” Newt protested weakly. Sonya was by his side in an instant, supporting him from the side.
“What?” asked Gally dumbfolded.
“I’ll tell you later. Now, I really need to get home.”
“Newt.” squeaked Sonya. “Your wings. They’re gone.”
“Don’t worry about it. It only hurts when I move.” the blonde said with a fond smile, drawing Sonya closer to him. Gally stepped to his other side, never turning his back to Thomas.
“I hope we’ll see each other again.” said Newt, looking at the demon. Saying that was silly, but he felt he owed the demon.
“I hope not.” answered the brunet with his usual smirk.
The room started to vanish, when Newt felt the familiar feeling of teleporting back home.