Crystal City's official junkyard wasn't even in the city. It was two miles away, situated far from civilization past fields of untamed grass and abandoned shacks.

This was the first time Roxanne had ever stepped foot into the place. She hoped it would be the last.

Everything was so disorganized, dirty. She couldn't help but feel dirty herself, feeling a surging need to take a shower not even after a minute of being here.

She was almost amazed by how cleverly the stacks of trash were being piled together, like a sick, twisted form of Jenga. That, or she was expecting WALL-E to rock up behind her.

She wore a coat too big for her size, hoping it would shield the rest of her clothes from all this dirt, dust, and God knows what else.

When Roxanne began to regret coming here, she pulled out a piece of paper from her coat pocket, neatly folded.

She read it again even when she was sure she'd memorized every word, at this point.

Come to the junkyard alone at 11 if you want answers.

Every fiber of her being told her this was either an elaborate kidnapping attempt or a plotted murder... or both, somehow. That was why she brought a knife. She was no idiot. And she had her phone in her pocket with people on speed dial, just in case things got intense.

Oh, and she wore her sports shoes, so she wouldn't trip and fall when she ran.

Roxanne was as prepared as she could be.

And she was scared to death.

She looked at the paper, her hand shaking despite her attempts at calming it. She then turned on her phone. It read 10:52. She was early. She had never been early for anything her whole life, yet she made herself early for this.

She then heard it; a flap of large wings, coming from behind her.

She turned around. Her phone dropped.

The... creature was up in the air. Its body covered the moon behind it, giving itself a powerful shadow. Slowly, it descended. And slowly, Roxanne could see that it was, in fact, a she, based on the figure of its body and its long hair.

The more Roxanne looked at her, the more she realized just how etherial she was.

There were white floral patterns, tracing from her hands, to her arms, down to her neck, ending in a circular pattern around her neck. They glowed. It was faint, but they definitely glowed. Roxanne was sure that there were more floral patterns hidden under its- her clothing.

The tip of her hair had the same white glow as well.

With each flap of the wings, came a burst of air that messed Roxanne's hair up. The closer she got, the more intense that burst of air became.

Roxanne had to take a few steps back, just so she wouldn't fall from the push of air coming from the flying creature.

Black boots made contact with the earth, for the first time since Roxanne had seen her.

"You came." Her body inhaled a sharp breath without her permission. She planted her feet deeply onto the ground, almost clawing at it, in fact, with how dizzy she was.

This. This was her.

Roxanne couldn't believe it. All this time she'd spent waiting, she'd thought she was ready, but actually looking at her, feeling her presence...

Roxanne could understand why everyone was scared of her.

There was this feeling of... inhuman energy emanating from her. No matter how badly you want to believe that her wings were bought from Costco, and those floral patterns were just very expensive tattoos, and she was wearing contact lenses... you just can't believe it.

It simply wasn't the truth.

And now Roxanne was aware that the most dangerous person ever was standing in front of her, watching her. Roxanne was suddenly aware of her eyes; blank white.

"Are you blind?" The words blurted out of her mouth, and Roxanne clamped it down with one hand, taking a small, shaky step back. She didn't want to upset her.

But she blinked. When she shook her head, her wings rotated left and right as well.

Fascinating.

The more Roxanne looked at her, the more her fears diminished, replaced by this sense of detachment. And through this detachment, she was able to ask, "Can you see normally?"

She shook her head again, more certain this time.

"How do you see things?"

The creature's eyebrows tilted down, and her mouth pressed itself into a thin line.

The wings, very real and not artificial, sagged down along with her.

It was a small gesture, one Roxanne was sure no average person would notice. But Roxanne was no average person, and she tended to notice little things that explained more than it should. One of the many things that made her a great reporter. One of the ticks Roxanne couldn't get rid of, even if she wanted to.

She shook her head, then nodded.

Roxanne felt like laughing. She was sure she was either in shock or hysteria, because she actually did snort. "You know you're going to have to speak, right?"

The autumn wind made itself present. It was chilly out here, even with the coat and scarf she was wearing. Roxanne was pouring out thin cold sweat. The creature in front of her didn't seem bothered by the temperature, even with the thin article of clothing she wore.

Roxanne wondered if it had to do with the white residing in her eyes and trailing around her body. The white shone, so maybe it provided warmth as well. Kind of like fire.

"Why here? Why in this junkyard, of all places?"

Those blank white eyes never left Roxanne. Logically, Roxanne shouldn't know which direction she was seeing. Roxanne simply knew she was looking at her. Maybe it was because she felt like she was being watched by a kind of powerful force she would never understand even if she wanted to.

The creature opened her mouth, then gritted her teeth, her head tilting away for the first time. She grabbed her own throat, rubbing at it.

Roxanne heard a swallow, and then, "You need to stop what you're doing."

Her voice. Wow. It was low, powerful, kind of sounded like a low growl of a wolf... and it was soft and quiet.

Roxanne didn't pay much attention to her voice, despite how inhumanely beautiful it sounded. She paid attention to her words.

Her words which, frankly, insulted her.

"What do you think I'm doing?"

If the creature noticed the bite in her words, she chose not to acknowledge it. "Involving yourself in trouble you don't understand, let alone are part of."

This time, Roxanne really did laugh.

It was laugh, it sounded like something straight out of a mental asylum, and when she stopped, she stopped hard, as though she'd never laugh in the first place.

The knowledge that the creature was dangerous erased itself from her mind, in that one simple moment.

"What do you think you're doing? Making me come all this way only to tell me to drop everything I've been working on for months. I don't care how fucking dangerous it is-"

A pressure on her neck. A force that drove her into hitting what used to be a car. An inability to breathe. A pain coming from that pressure, squeezing harder and harder and harder.

"Do you?" The voice, still low and powerful, no longer soft and quiet. "Do you really believe I'm this perfect hero who protects this city from the darkness out of the kindness of my heart?" Roxanne let out a useless gasp. Her body twisted and turned without her permission, in a panic. Roxanne dug deep, deep into her pockets with one hand. The other grabbed her wrist, trying to pull her hand away from her neck. "Don't be foolish. I don't care about this city and all the ants that live in it, Roxanne Brooks."

Roxanne found it, what she was looking for. Her vision was fading. Her body going weaker.

The pressure on her neck began to feel lighter, less threatening. It was still there, but Roxanne was able to breathe again.

Roxanne stabbed her on the shoulder using the knife she hid under her coat.

A surprised gasp. The pressure disappeared, letting Roxanne's body dragged itself down to the floor. Air became easy for her to let in. She greedily take gulps of it.

Then, a scream of pain, desperately failed to be hidden through gritted teeth.

It made Roxanne smile, knowing that she wasn't the only one in pain.

She forced herself up, despite her body being weak, her throat still pulsing with pain, and her head dizzy from lack of oxygen.

"Don't bullshit me."

Her voice sounded so powerful, even if it was shaky. It echoed through the night. She was sure a deer from ten blocks away would run upon hearing her voice.

Roxanne was so done with this shit.

"Your slaps break bones. You were holding back. You can just kill me, right here and now. Me, the nosey bitch who involves herself in too much shit when she could've just put her head down like everybody else."

The creature, in front of her, was still trying to get her bearings together. The knife was still there, awkwardly dangling on her shoulder. Roxanne hadn't put that much force into the attack. She didn't want to hurt her more than necessary.

One hand was clutched onto the wound, likely to stop the bleeding. It seemed to be working. Roxanne didn't see a trail of blood leaking. The other hovered around it, clenching and unclenching.

But what really drew Roxanne's attention was the wings. Just as before.

It was raised up, revealing each feather in all of its glory, and seemed to lean forward. Weirdly, the wings looked less like wings used as a means of freedom and more like claws used to attack, to hurt.

Then Roxanne's gaze travelled to her face, where her mouth hung open, quivering, her eyes were wide open, and a sense of anger washed over her.

"So do it. Kill me. It'll be easier for you. It'll be easier for everyone!"

Roxanne was truly harmless now. No one could hear her screams, not here.

Roxanne pressed forward. The wings of the creature arched up, the feathers looking sharper than ever. It threatened Roxanne, but she didn't stop.

Once in range, Roxanne jabbed one finger to her chest, never breaking eye-contact.

"You can't, can you?"

Roxanne was able to feel faint heat coming off her skin. It was the kind of warm people would normally have when they were on a really horrible fever. It should sting, but it felt warm, inviting, like a campfire. Now that Roxanne was this close, she could feel that her whole body was emanating this heat.

She forced herself to look into those glowing eyes, filled with the kind of shock normally reserved for people more than strangers.

"You wanna know why you can't do something so simple? Why I came here in the first place despite how stupid of a decision it is? It's because I know you. You're not this dark monster who lurks in the alleyway. You're not this psychopath-"

And then Roxanne fell down to the ground, hard.

"It's because it's you!"

Roxanne tasted something rusty and sickeningly-familiar in her mouth, where she'd bitten her teeth too hard. Her elbows were scrapped from their unexpected meeting with the ground, so did her hands.

Roxanne looked up.

The creature didn't seem to have noticed what she'd done, clutching her head. Her wings were withdrawn, closing in, almost like she was shielding herself.

"It's you. And I can't... I can never... Not to you..."

A sense of giddiness washed over Roxanne, as though she'd taken one too many puffs of laughing gas.

There was something unspoken between them, something that defied, well, basically anything and everything Roxanne had ever known, really.

Roxanne was a writer. She knew how to push and prod people around. She sometimes did it without realizing.

But this...

This was a whole other level entirely.

Roxanne knew who she was. Roxanne could see her, had touched her, had felt her.

Roxanne could see right through her. She shouldn't be able to, but she was.

The creature took a deep inhale of breath, opened her eyes, and looked down, mouth opening. She took a step forward, as though trying to reach out for Roxanne, then froze in place, shuffling her weight.

It looked awkward.

It looked human.

Roxanne pushed herself off the ground, not bothering cleaning her shirt from any dirt or dust. "You're wrong. It's not just me. You've never killed anyone. You've never crossed that line."

This was the first time Roxanne saw her smile.

It wasn't a happy smile.

In fact, it was the kind of smile that showed just what she was going through.

"You are right. I simply beat them within an inch of their lives. That makes it so much better."

"You want to stop, don't you?" she said, almost immediately. She should regret saying those words. She wasn't.

Roxanne hadn't been joking when she'd told Claire she felt this weird bond between them.

And now, actually being with her, the creature whose name she didn't know, this intoxicating feeling was stronger than ever.

"Actually, I quite enjoy it."

And Roxanne couldn't be the only one feeling it, because she was still talking to Roxanne, smiling alongside her, engaging in a conversation as though Roxanne posed no threat to her. Roxanne did pose no threat to her, she didn't want to hurt anyone... but how come the creature knew?

"That's..." She swallowed, adjusting her glasses to sit properly on her face. "That's not the same thing. Just because you enjoy it doesn't mean you don't want it to stop." She paused for a moment, looking at the creature's stiff form, at the way her injured shoulder shook, the way she tightly pressed her lips together. "Something's holding you back, keeping you in place."

"Stop."

That made Roxanne smile, despite the pain in her voice. It meant she was right. It meant she was edging closer to the truth. "It's the same reason why we're here, isn't it? Out here in the junkyard, miles from the actual city. No one in their right mind would come here. No one can hear us here."

"Don't."

The feeling of intoxication expanded, only now, it made her shake and unable to breathe. "Not like in the city. Rick was right. He knew. He knew people were watching." Since when did her voice break? And why did everything look so blurry? "They're everywhere. It's not safe anywhere. I'm not safe anywhere. I'm not safe at all."

"Rox..."

And then Roxanne found herself being enveloped in a hug that chased away the coldness of the autumn air and the feeling of isolation and fear like no other.

It was like a blanket fort she used to build with Claire back at the orphanage, designed to keep the world away. A nice cocoon of safety and warmth. Only instead of blankets shielding her, they were feathers.

They were soft, like clouds. And her skin... was warm. Roxanne could feel something beneath it poulsing, stirring. It was the same kind of energy that produced this warmth. It was strange. It was pleasant.

"It's safe for you. I've made sure of it. No one will hurt you."

Those words were pleasant as well. It wasn't something a stranger would say to her. It wasn't something a friend would say to her.

Roxanne melted into her embrace, burying her face in her chest. She sighed when locks of white hair tickled her cheek. The creature surprisingly had a kind of softness to her. It was hard to explain.

"... An angel."

"What?"

Roxanne shifted to look up at her. The creature's face held no danger, no pain. Roxanne felt herself drawn into those eyes again. "That's what you are. An angel."

She had white eyes. Roxanne once had read that white means purity, light, goodness, and all of that other nice stuff. She believed what she'd read.

It was hard to imagine that the creature looking down at her was able to hurt that many people, much less enjoy doing so. Especially when she shook her head and looked guilty. "No, no. Don't... don't think like that, please. I don't- I'm not an angel. I'm not perfect."

"Those two aren't the same."

The one thing keeping her calm was stripped away as the angel pushed herself away from the embrace. Her arms twitched as though she didn't know what to do with them. Her wings, drooping down, looked more like a deadweight than a shield or a pair of claws.

"Stop what you're doing, Roxanne."

Roxanne took a step forward. "What am I doing, exactly?"

One of her foot shifted back, but she held her ground. "You're uncovering the truth. Just by listening to me. Just by looking at me."

Roxanne smiled because it was the truth, her eyes wide, frantic, and likely obsessive. "I'm a reporter. It's what I do, kind of." She shrugged, taking another step.

This time, the angel did take a step back, her hands fidgeting as she looked down with furrowed brows. "It's more than what you just do. I... Look, I'm risking all of this, risking your safety, to tell you to please stop thinking of me as some kind of endgame. I'm not. I'm just a person, like you. I'm a chess piece. And they control the board. They control everything."

Her shoulders sagged down, then she stiffened, a hiss leaving through her mouth. It seemed she had forgotten about her wound. Roxanne couldn't blame her. She too had forgotten about her own brave and reckless attack.

Roxanne wanted to reach out, to at least comfort her the way she'd comforted Roxanne.

Instead, she said, "You can choose not to be a chess piece. You're- you're powerful. You can just walk away."

"What if I want to be a piece?"

"Then you'd be lying."

It was like Roxanne was playing a game of hot and cold. Only, she had to figure things out herself, whether she was getting warmer or colder.

With the way the angel refused to look at her told her she was in the hot zone.

"You don't strike me as the kind of person who let others push you around."

The angel braved herself to look at her again. "Then clearly, you don't know me."

"But I do."

And that wasn't a lie, was it? Roxanne didn't know, though the words did feel right coming out of her mouth.

Also, the angel didn't try to object, instead asking, "What if I want to keep hurting people?"

Roxanne paused.

She was in pain. Roxanne was in pain.

They were in different kinds of pain.

They needed a break from this swirling coaster.

Roxanne tried for a grin. It came out more like a grimace and her mouths quivered. She kept the grin in place, anyway. "I'd say that's not healthy."

Her attempt at a joke proved to be semi-successful. The angel barked a laugh. A more withdrawn chuckle left Roxanne's mouth.

It was warm now.

Roxanne liked it this way.

Roxanne took a seat in the trunk of a wrecked car, slouching, her feet dangling off the ground, her arms sprawled wherever they wished to be.

The car was dusty. Everything here was dusty, for fuck's sake, this was a junkyard. She desperately needed to put her clothes to laundry after this.

Roxanne didn't tear her eyes off of the angel, giving herself the time to marvel at her... well, her wings, mainly, but also her floral patterns and her white eyes and, just... everything.

She still couldn't believe it.

Roxanne's mind wandered. Grover, who adamantly refused to cover any topic relating to her. Rick, who clearly was afraid of her and the other dangers lurking. Bella, who was smart enough to know and wise enough to avoid danger. And Claire...

Claire, who wasn't here.

Claire, who chose not to be here.

Claire, who just happened to be busy