2 Chapter 2- 2 Months Earlier

Heyo am back. *Strokes majestic mustache* sorry for the late upload, I got distracted with another BL I'm working on. And... I may or may not have gotten distracted watching Vagabond off of Netflix. OOPS. Anyways, this chapter takes place 2 months before the Stanton Angel collapsed with the tower. Before he started to dig for information on Derek Adler's background. It already snowed here in Iowa, and its not even October yet. I am... astounded. Anywayyyy.... let me know what you think. I don't want this to become a train wreck like the last story.

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"We have to stop meeting like this," The Stanton Angel remarked, looking up at a figure clad in black.

"For once we're working together, Angel," Derek Adler remarked before hopping over the ledge and landing beside the boy. "Brought your toys?"

He patted the long stick he held close to his side. "It's not a toy. My father taught me how to use this. Anyway, why don't you call me the 'Stanton Angel'?"

"Angel fits you better. It's all I know about you," Derek Adler shrugged. He cocked his gun, checking the chamber.

The Stanton Angel scoffed with a shake of his head. "You're my nemesis. Like I'd tell you my name."

"You tell me yours, I'll tell you mine. Outside of this vigilante business, we could be the bestest of friends."

"You idolize killing your enemies. That, I can understand because they're scum and assholes. But you enjoy it, and that's the kind of people I don't want to be near."

"Don't knock it until you try it," Derek answered simply. A van pulled up to the building and the backdoors opened. Three terrified young girls with their arms bound, eyes covered, and their mouths blocked collapsed onto the pavement. An asian man looked out towards the other buildings. He hefted his large gun and searched the tops of the buildings carefully before knocking on the door leading into the warehouse.

The door opened quickly and the girls were dragged inside. Derek ran his hand down his face before standing. "That's our cue."

They broke through the door like it was butter and men converged on them. Derek levelled his gun to their heads, pulling the trigger and splattering theri brains all over the ground. He grinned as he reloaded, feeling the rush curl up deep inside his chest. Beside him, the angel was engaged in a brutal fight against guns wielding his mighty stick. He was taking as many hits as he gave, but the smaller boy didn't back down. His honey coated voice rang across the fray, poking and prying at his attackers. He was faster than them. Above them before they could even think of swiping his feet out from beneath him. Eventually, they caught up.

The Stanton Angel was slammed against the ground, his stick sent careening away from his hands. He twisted beneath the brutish man atop of him and wrapped his legs around the man's neck. The man attempted to dislodge the boy by raising him up, and the Stanton Angel managed to break free of the man's grip and drag him down with his own body weight. He rolled towards his stick and popped the man in the face. The man howled, clutching his bleeding lip as he fell backwards. The angel drove his elbow into the man's head, and he dropped, unconscious, to the ground. He took a running leap at a large group of men, aiming their guns at his feet. The Stanton Angel jumped up high, slamming into three of the men and knocking them down. He grabbed one of their guns before pulling one of the men into a headlock. At the last second, he cracked the gun against the man's head before launching it straight at the forehead of another. He used the falling man as a ladder, launching up onto the man's shoulders. He drug the man down and squeezed his thighs around the man's throat.

Derek shook his head before refocusing his attention on his own opponents. He dodged a volley of bullets, taking refuge behind a small wooden crate. Wood shards rained all around him before they reloaded. Derek popped up around the top of the crate and picked off a few men before ducking back down again as bullets rained once more. He grinned as he reloaded and sat up. He launched out from the crate, twisting to fire a few choice shots into the men before ducking down once more. He dropped his clip and pulled another out of his pocket. He counted his breaths before launching around the side, the gun raised as he fired and pushed them back. His gun clicked and he dropped it, pulling out his knife. Cutting throats was easy at close range. He dropped the last of the men and turned towards the angel. A group of men were pushing towards the Stanton Angel with a submachine gun. A bad taste spread through Derek's mouth as he watched the men creep up on the angel's turned back. He grabbed a gun from one of the fallen men and fired into the group. Somewhere up high, a gunshot echoed and Derek could feel it slicing through the air.

Derek launched himself over the edge to tackle the other man. He covered the Angel beneath his own body until the shooting stopped. Derek took his chance, dragging the boy up to his feet and rushing towards a group of crates clustered near the edge. He pulled the Stanton Angel over until their backs were against the crate wall before tossing his empty gun away with a huff.

"Wasted those on you," He huffed.

The angel laughed, wiping the sweat from his brow. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and his throaty voice raised in amusement. He looked down at Derek and his eyes widened in surprise. Blue and green eyes met his before he spoke. "You're bleeding."

"What?" He asked, looking down and right where his abdomen was, a bleeding flesh wound sat. Blood dribbled out from the hole and soaked into his clothing. His blood was surprisingly hot against his own skin.

The Angel grit his teeth as he pressed against the wound. Derek winced, shying away from the touch. "It's fine Angel, I'm not going to die."

The Angel ripped a piece of fabric from the long coat over his spandex costume and tied it tightly around Derek's side. The bullet had passed clean through a non-vial area and the fabric was already sopping up the blood and stopping it from spilling out as urgently.

"Thank you," Derek whispered, meeting the boy's eyes. It was at that moment, he realized just how beautiful the man's eyes were. His heart skipped a beat in his chest and he felt fluttering in his stomach.

The angel gave him a lopsided smile before getting up. "Try not to die on me."

Then he was gone, leaping over the side of the crates and engaging the men in battle once more. This time, he turned the tide and took them down smoothly, infinitely faster then the others.

They took down the mob boss with ease and the girls managed to escape. Then they were fighting again, against each other. The gun was knocked out of his hands when he aimed it on the mob boss' slutty wife, and the Stanton Angel shook his head.

"Killing is wrong, even if they're scum," the Angel reasoned. He picked up Derek's gun and broke it apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left. He dropped the pieces at his feet before turning away. "You can be a good man too, if you want to be."

"You're playing a broken fiddle Angel. Anyway, I've already dug my own grave, I have to have the balls to lie in it to.

"You're a disaster," the boy stated, shaking his head. He looked out across the city and his eyes landed on a pair of amber staring back at him. For a second, the Stanton Angel paused. Then the figure was gone,

"Angel," Derek shouted, grabbing the boy's arm. "What were you looking at?"

"I… I thought I saw… nevermind, I'll catch you later."

Derek waved at him. "I'll be coordinating another attack soon. Hope I see you there!"

"Hmmm, perhaps," the Angel chuckled quietly before scaling the side of the brick building. He launched up from the top of the trashcan, hooking the jutted out windowsill before he drug himself up. He turned around and launched onto the low hanging roof and disappeared over the side. In the far distance sirens wailed and the tell-tale lights of the police vehicles appeared in the distance. Derek groaned before he, to, disappeared into the night.