When the Angels Fell

Chapter 13: Homecoming

Abigail was halfway down the stairs by the time he reached the house, but the force with which the door was thrown open made her pause. She held her breath and stood still as he stormed into the same room they had occupied when she had first arrived. Descending with more caution, she crept across the hallway while Aelion tactfully remained on the second floor. The room was scarcely lit and she could barely make out the hunched shape on the chair from her place in her doorway.

‘Daniel?’

His head snapped around and, even in the dim light, it became instantly clear that he had changed in the few days they had been apart. His eyes were bloodshot and the shadows around them seemed deeper and darker. Unwashed hair hung forlornly around a pale, drawn face. His clothes, a simple black shirt with matching jeans, were crumpled and dirty.

‘Abigail,’ he rasped, his voice cracked and worn. ‘Get the lights would you?’

He threw her a small square box, which she caught and opened to find matches. Grasping the idea, she struck one and went to light the candles arrayed around the room. The room was filled with a soft orange light that only served to highlight the damage done to Daniel’s body. Fresh scars criss-crossed his arms, shockingly red against the pale skin.

‘Daniel,’ she gasped, lost for words once again. ‘What-’

‘Sit down,’ he interrupted tiredly. ‘Please’

After a moment’s pause, Abigail sat down in the same chair she had sat in on the first night. She found herself unable to take her eyes off Daniel’s arms. The scars weren’t that deep, but the sheer number of them was enough to worry her.

Has he been fighting or-

Abigail shook her head, not wanting to pursue that thought to its conclusion. The idea of him willlingly hurting himself seemed at odds with the strong, independent character he portrayed. But if he had been fighting…who could inflict injuries like that?

She looked up expectantly as he drew in a long, shaky breath. Silence reigned for a while before he finally spoke again.

‘You’re going home’

‘Wait…what?’

‘You’re going home,’ Daniel repeated slowly, standing up and crossing to a glass-fronted cabinet hanging near the door.

‘You can’t be serious,’ Abigail said, standing up and stepping towards him.

He didn’t answer, seemingly intent on pouring a golden liquid into a glass and draining it in one swallow. His silence only served to infuriate her and she felt her temper rise.

‘After all I’ve seen and done!’ she shouted, not caring how high-pitched her voice seemed. ‘You expect me to just…forget?’

‘It’s not my decision!’ he roared in response. ‘Even I have to follow orders sometimes!’

He hurled the glass against the wall and stormed out of the room as the broken shards fell to the floor. It was then that Abigail felt tears pricking the corner of her eyes. She stood there in silence as they splashed to the floor like pearls glittering in the dying light.

****

The sun was just cresting the horizon when Daniel returned. He stood in the doorway, all the unspoken words hanging heavily in the charged air. Abigail nodded slowly, inwardly resigned to the inevitable. Her surroundings seemed almost overpowering as they left the house and walked across the path towards Daniel’s bike. Abigail took one last look around before she climbed on, paying particular attention to the house. Despite its size and unfamiliarity, it had begun to feel like home to her and she felt a strange sense of loss at the thought of leaving.

‘Will I ever come back?’ she asked as Daniel started the ignition.

‘Maybe,’ came the short reply.

Further conversation was prevented by a dull roar as they sped away. The wilderness faded behind him as the lights of the city came into view. The streets were quiet in the early morning light, only the growl of the engine disturbing the silence. They pulled up in front of Abigail’s house and she dismounted slowly, dreading the inevitable confrontation that would occur when she stepped inside.

The sound of Daniel’s motorbike had long faded before Abigail steeled herself to take the last few steps up to the door. Reaching for the doorknob, she dropped her hand in surprise as the door opened from the inside. Her dad stood in the hallway, but rather than the barrage of questions she had expected, he stood there in silence.

‘Dad…we need to talk’

‘Yes, Abigail,’ her dad replied, stepping aside to let her in. ‘We do’