Stella Relucet

Chapter 1 There's a gleam in her eye that Frank has never seen before. In Lillian's last moments, the tortuously long seconds of listening to her raspy breathing, she manages to twinkle at him. It's a strange comparison, really, considering the fact that Lillian's eye were betraying her fatigue of an old person. Frank is seated in the wooden hospital bed next to her, his hand clutching her pale ones for dear life. Lillian was the only parent Frank had ever known, and the deep depression was already settling in. He would be the last Iero. "Frankie," she begins, and Frank hates the way she has to breathe heavily to catch her breath again. "We both know you're a special boy, bambino, and I can assure you that you'll learn the meaning completely one day." She pauses, taking another minute to catch her breath. "I cannot control what you do with your... Talent. Once you learn what you're capable of, you'll decide what extraordinary things you could do with it." She pauses again, and Frank wonders where she's going with this. "I've protected you for too long of your abilities, bambino, and once you turn twenty it'll all backfire on you. I'm so sorry," she says. Frank has absolutely no idea what she's talking about. He works behind the counter at a gas station for fucks sake. "I hope you'll forgive me, Frankie," she says, wheezing with the effort of speech. Frank is hyper aware that even as she's speaking, babbling really, she's leaving him just like his parents did. "Ti amo, nonna," Frank whispers, kissing her forehead. "Ti amo, bambino." Frank doesn't even have to look up to know she left already. She left him confused and with vague apologies. He has no idea what to do now. He doesn't say or feel anything when the doctors come in a few minutes later. He feels an icy grip all over him that makes him feel warm at the same time, and he's so fucking confused. He stands up, not wanting to be in this morbid room any longer, and walks to the parking lot. He ignores the nurse paying her condolences and the little girl asking about his tattoos—something he's usually very passionate about. He walks to his car. His car. That's right, it's not Lillian's anymore.. Frank slips into the car and stares at the blank hospital wall in front of him. Mom and dad left him. Lillian left him. Everyone left. That's when the sobs start. The sheer fact that he is and always will be hopelessly alone seems to tap something in his head. He sobs hopelessly against the steering wheel before getting out and walking into the rain. Even the earth knows that an angel has gone home today. He looks down at his shoes, suddenly angry at everything and everyone. After several minutes trapped in his own thoughts Frank remembers he has the shittiest immune system that any one could have. He looks up at the dull sky, ignoring the rain mixed tears that burn his eyes. 'Fuck you,' he thinks bitterly. When he looks ahead of him, he can almost laugh at the irony. There's a large Catholic Church with an open door. Something in his head pushes him toward the cathedral, and he follows. Crossing the street, Frank narrowly avoids being hit by a car. Ignoring the angry squeaks of the driver, he enters the cathedral. Frank peels off his jacket and leaves it on the available coat rack near the door. He cringes internally at the feeling of his feet squishing around in his soaked shoes and socks. Admittedly, the church is beautiful. It's decorated with beige and burgundy, as if there's just been a wedding or something. The pews are a light wooden color, recalling Frank's first guitar. The guitar that Lillian gave him. He swallows back the memory and takes in the half used candles and the silver bowls of holy water aligning the first two pews. Then he looks directly at the stage. It isn't a stage so much as it is a platform, but it's definitely got a theatrical drama to it. Jesus Christ in his most remembered pose is in the center of the platform, large and overwhelming. Behind him are the tinted glass windows Frank used to love as a kid. In front of the crucifix is a glass podium where—Frank thinks bitterly— a hypocrite stands all day on the importance of cleansing themselves. Off to the side is the famous confessional that Frank used to hate being in. He'd hated confessing what he did at school to rotten boys who deserved it just to be told that he was wrong and he should forgive. He'd hated the small space, the darkness save for the streaks of light that poured in from the cracks in the confessional's foundation. He'd especially hated not being able to see the priest's face. He wanted to see himself being judged; it was the masochist in him. Frank is taking all of this in, all the beauty of a church he'd hated as a kid, when a throat clears behind him. He nearly jumps one foot in the air, turning around, and fixing his gaze on who must be the Father, who is clearly about to leave. The Father's gaze lingers for a bit, and a small smirk appears at his lips before he begins speaking. "Hello, are you here to confess?" Frank digs his nails into his palms to keep himself from rolling his eyes. "No... My feet kind of led me here, Father." The priest rolled his eyes. "Don't make me feel old, call me Gerard," he says. Frank allows a small smile to grace his lips before he looks away. "You'd better get home then," Gerard says, jingling his keys. - Ray's hair is sticking up in all directions, more than usual at least. He falls onto the floor with an OOMPH and races for the door. "Frank! Where have you been?!" He squeaks. Frank giggles quietly. "Relax Mama Fro Fro, I was having a shitty day and it got better." Ray lets out this weird noise that he quickly covers with a scoff. "You have your own car Frank, you didn't need a—" Ray's mouth snaps shut. He was so relieved that Frank had gotten home he hadn't realized. He looks out of the still open door long enough to make eye contact with him. HIM. It's dark still, the rain is still going blindingly hard, but he still sees the nephilim as if it were broad daylight. "Hey Toro, where's my towel? I'm soaked," Frank calls from upstairs. The priest and the angel continue to stare at each other until the priest suddenly breaks away and speeds off quickly. "Toro?" Ray sighs and turns around, ready to father someone who will never grow. - Ray watches the clock anxiously, biting on his lip and casting a nervous glance to Frank, who's watching Halloween intently. Soon, Ray thinks, Frank won't be protected from Lillian's charms. Frank gets up, pets Ray's hair affectionately, and walks up to his room. As he's getting ready for bed, there's a knock on his window. He crosses the room quickly and opens the window. "Surprise!" Gerard says happily. A smile blooms across Frank's face and he giggles as he helps the priest in. "Ever heard of using the door?" He asks, affection blooming across his pale features. Gerard scrunched his nose. "What, you mean like /normal people/? Gross!" He smiles. So the time during the drive over to his small home was actually spent as bonding time and falling hopelessly for each other. They both had lots of things in common, and made geeky references from Doctor Who and The Lord of the Rings. "You're absolutely fantastic," Frank giggles before wrapping his fingers around the priest's leather jacket collar and pulling him in for a kiss. "Are you implying that I'm Rose?" Gerard asks. "No, no, never, bad wolf." The boys smile dumbly at each other before Ray opens the door. He stares at Gerard accusingly. "I knew it," he growls. Suddenly, the air shifts, and right before his eyes Frank sees a pair of white wings attached to Ray. No one else seems to notice. When he looks at Gerard he can see the outline of ink black wings and pointier ears, and paler skin. Frank lets out a breath, and it's the only sound that is heard before the house explodes.

Notes

Chapter 1 lovelies. Please please tell me if it's bad.