The Angels Will Come Forth // (Legion Michael/OC Fanfiction)

Chapter 1: Burn.

The repetitive sound of the Diner's owner hitting the decrepit television set is annoying enough as is without the mindless back and forth of my mother and father criticizing my little sister's clothing choice. My fingers dig into my temples as I try to relieve the headache that had started to creep up two hours ago.

"I don't know, why don't we just ask her?" My father sighs with clear signs of agitation. After a second of hesitation he starts to turn towards his youngest daughter, but Sandra was quick to try to stop him.

"You'll embarrass me!" She whispers to him fiercely, thinking no one could hear her. Despite her protests Howard calls out to Audrey, the loud sound of his voice seeming to stab into my skull like a knife.

"Christ." I mutter under my breath. Despite how hard I'm trying to ignore all the varying sounds around me my brain stays hyper-focused on everything.

"Yeah, that's because I woke up this morning hoping to get double-teamed by a couple of meth-head truckers in the bathroom of some desert shithole." Audrey jabs back at whatever rude question my father had asked aloud, keeping a defiant smirk on her face.

"Audrey." I groan, rolling my eyes in utter embarrassment. Only my family would do something as crude as this in a public establishment.

"I feel satisfied with that answer, I really do." Howard nods towards his wife.

"Guys, knock it off. Do keep in mind we are in public around strangers. We don't wanna disclose all of our family issues to them in one fell swoop." My words become slightly muffled as I take a gulp from the hot cup of coffee in front of me, hoping the caffeine will reduce the pain. I know what will make it stop, but it'd be hard to get away with that right now with everyone around.

Rummaging through my worn old backpack I pull out my pack of cigarettes and a lighter, and start towards the door.

"Ellis, Honey. I really wish you'd quit smoking those." Sandra calls out to me, earning a half-assed shrug from me as I pull on my torn up, and oversized denim jacket. As soon as I step outside of the door the brisk wind hits my face, waking me up a little more. As I turn away from the wind to light the stick between my lips, Bob storms out past me and towards what I presume to be the shed where our Beemer is being fixed.

Inhaling the smoke into my lungs, I observe my surrounds. Theres not much to look at besides rolling flat lands covered in red dirt and a few sparse bushes. Every time the winds kicks up it takes the fine dirt with it, forcing me to squint as not to get it in my eyes.

I watch as Bob and his son shout at one another, arguing about something that has to do with that waitress inside. She's pretty, but I think she should quick smoking, for the sake of the baby at least. Maybe some day i'll quit too, but by the looks of it now, I don't see that happening anytime soon.

I continue to take drags from the rolled menthol tobacco, exhaling them again after a couple seconds. A repetition that manages to temporarily distract me from the other cravings that made my skin crawl with want. I stub out and flick away the end of the cigarette just as Bob passes me to go inside.

"Hey wait can you hold that door real quick?" I jog towards the entrance, thanking him for being kind enough to do that for me. The warmth in the Diner is nice compared to the bite of the wind outside. The man reassures us that his son is close to fixing our car before noticing the static buzz on the television screen.

"What is wrong with you today?" He asks the TV in a murmur as he crawls onto a chair and resumes his battery on the buzzing box. He and the cook—Percy I think his name is—banter back and forth about the history channel as Charlie the waitress refills my coffee cup.