Day Breaks

Day Breaks
Chapter 5: In Heaven and On Earthly Wheelchairs

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In a small workshop, an old man, handsome in the face with kind eyes, leaned forward as he carved out the delicate lines for a feather on a life size statue of a beautiful female angel. Long hair spilled over marble shoulders and down to the feet of the stone creature, and large, long lashed eyes stared out with kindness at the rest of the room. The work, in itself, was ultimately beautiful and was obviously impossible by any human hand.

Just as the old man blew away dust gently from the sculpture, his workshop door burst open, and two white clad angels filled the doorway. The two angels were tall, hulking, and ultimately incredibly intimidating, and their backs sported large swords that were strapped to their shoulders and chests. The taller of the two was majestic in his stance, and flashing lavender eyes told of his rage, while long golden hair spilled down over his broad shoulders and ended at his hips. Large, golden tipped wings protruded from his back, and both of his large, war calloused hands were clenched in anger.

The shorter of the two looked almost boyish and shy. Although his body was broad and powerful as the other, his face was smattered with dark red freckles, matching the flaming red mass of curls that adorned his head with wild abandon. His eyes were the deepest shade of emerald, and they shone with happiness, rage, and a boyish good humor through all of it. He thrust in another figure to the floor that almost seemed as tall as the two angels, but it was definitely not as bulky. “We found him lurking outside the gates, Father.”

Large black wings shook off the rough treatment in anger and stretched, knocking over buckets of paint and several tools in the workshop. The rude and inconsiderate action gained a cry of indignity from the red head and a shout of warning from the blonde. “Oi, Lucifer, watch your wings in Father’s workshop, or I’ll throw you back out into the lake.”

The blonde was suddenly pinned back by a charcoal glare from a beautiful face that would have moved mountains. Perfectly shaped eyes narrowed, and full, sensual pressed into a line as he gazed up at the glaring blonde angel. “Michael, when are you going to get off your high horse?” He smirked evilly. “After all, it’s not like you were special in the beginning. You were just my replacement after I left.”

Michael lunged forward, but the redhead stopped him by stepping in front of him and pressing his delicate hands to Michael’s massive chest. “Don’t listen to him, brother. He lies. It is all he can do.” The angel looked down at the fire headed man, and he tilted his head in thought and then relented. His lavender eyes didn’t stop their constant glaring however, and Lucifer was not one to back down from a fight.

“Gabriel, will you please hand me that brush next to my chisel?” The old man suddenly interjected. The redhead looked up and nodded quickly.

“Of course, Father.” Gabriel timidly stepped over Lucifer and grabbed the tiny brush, and handed it to the artist. He had never turned around during the entire skirmish, too intent of perfecting the beautiful female that he planned on bringing to life with his hands. He listened as Gabriel jerked Lucifer to his feet, just to shove him to his knees in forced respect of the artist, and he sighed.

“Gabriel and Michael, have I not taught you well?” He asked gently. The two angels looked at each other in surprise and then answered in unison.

“Yes, Father.” They chorused.

“Then why is it that you treat your own brother with such contempt?” He asked finally. The two angels looked dually chastised as they retreated from the room with a few spare kicks to the dark headed angel’s side before they shut the workshop doors and waited outside. Lucifer remained on his knees, but his wings folded neatly behind him, and even he, Prince of Lies, bowed his head to the workshop master. The old man let out a gentle and heartwarming chuckle that turned into a booming laugh.

Lucifer looked up to see his father’s eyes locked on him with mirth dancing in their blue depths. The old man motioned to a bench and chuckled after calming his laughter. “Sit there, Lucifer. I must finish your sister so that she can take her duties up.” He turned around and proceeded to work again on the statue, ignoring Lucifer until he began to talk. As he seated himself with slight difficulty on the small bench, he looked up to the artist with nothing but evil anger.

“It seems like you still haven’t taught my brothers any manners, Father.” The artist didn’t even look up from his work at the jibe. Lucifer continued in malicious amusement. “I almost achieved the souls of Maddox and Aurora.” The artist didn’t pause his actions on the female as he spoke.

“Maddox will make his own choices, as I am sure you understand.” He blew lightly on the stone. “Aurora, however, still speaks to me in her dreams, and she can still see me. She would pass on again into the next life untarnished.”

Lucifer snorted. “She enjoyed watching death. She liked the blood that was strewn on the walls and into the light. Revenge suits her.”

The man again, seemed unaffected by his son’s constant malice. “She, even though an angel in her soul, is still human. If I had wanted them to be perfect on Earth, I wouldn’t have sent my Son to them; however, the continuance of Jesus’ suffering is unnecessary. They will remember when they need to, and not a lifetime before that.”

“Maddox will be mine.” Lucifer growled, getting more and more annoyed at the lack of attention from his father. “He committed a cardinal sin with my Bellona. They say it is wrong to commit adultery or to fornicate.”

The artist paused and turned his head to glance over his shoulder at Lucifer over his beard. “And they say that it is a cardinal sin to disrespect your parents.” He snorted at his son. Lucifer flinched at his father’s words and growled again in annoyance. The old man turned to his statue again. “Besides, I see that Ambrose is not quite the watcher that you thought he was?”

“What about Ambrose?” Lucifer snapped. He crossed his arms like a spoiled child and leaned back against the table behind him. “He’s still mine. He’d still follow me to Hell.” He glared at the artist’s back.

“Yes, of that I have no doubt.” The man answered to the dark angel. “But he is not as ruthless as you would have him be, is he, Lucifer?” He sighed and blew again on the statue. “He made a wrong decision. You would know about wrong decisions, now, wouldn’t you?” He began to lightly brush away dust from the intricately carved feathers, and he smiled mysteriously to himself. “He couldn’t pull the trigger, could he, Lucifer?”

Lucifer hissed in distaste of the artist’s words, and he let loose a string of curses at the man before he spoke with a snarl. “I know that Ambrose is waiting for the time when he can take beautiful Aurora and snap her delicate neck!”

The artist didn’t budge. “You’ve been wrong before.” The simple truth of the statement made the dark angel flinch again. “It isn’t these demons and angels that you have come here to discuss, son.” The old man added.

Lucifer’s heady glare softened, and he looked away. “It is not in my power to help Pillan.” His dark black eyes cast to the floor, and he bowed his head in shame, allowing the thick, black mass of his hair to curtain his face. “I’m not capable of helping him.”

The artist set his brush down, and then, he fully shifted to face his son. He reached forward and tilted Lucifer’s head up and looked into his eyes. “I cannot help you, Lucifer because you do not wish it. Your pride was your fall, but Pillan didn’t fall because of pride and neither did Bellona.” He kissed Lucifer’s forehead and gazed at him lovingly. “Pillan fell because he loved you, however wrong it may have been.”

Lucifer’s eyes closed in pain, and he turned his face away from his father. “I want him to come home. He has spent thousands of lifetimes in pain and suffering, and I want him to be somewhere different.”

“You know my rules.” The old man said softly, and Lucifer nodded. “It doesn’t take much but a simple plea for forgiveness, my son, but some don’t even know how to ask.” The beautiful angel bit his bottom lip and looked down in shame in front of his maker, and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Please, Father.” He whispered. The artist gave his son a brief hug before releasing him to sit back on his bench. He turned to his statue and again began to carve.

“I’ll do what Pillan allows.” He answered quietly. “I cannot make him love me.”
“And what of Maddox and Bellona?” Lucifer asked. The malice was into his voice again, and he easily fell into the cat and mouse routine anew.

“Maddox is the angel of strength. Not just of the arm, but of the heart as well. You don’t give him enough credit. Bellona will now follow him.” Lucifer laughed outright and stood. “You cannot control love, my son.”

The old man leaned forward, and satisfied with his work, he turned his kind eyes on the tall fallen angel behind him. “What do you think, Lucifer? Is she not beautiful?” He motioned to the statue with a flourished smile, and he turned back to face her. “She will be my new assistant with the children. Also, Michael has been lonely for some company.” The sculptor leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to the stones lips of the angel and breathed.

Like a spreading wind, the body slowly came alive with breath, and the magnificent white wings of the female spread, and bright, onyx eyes opened to the world of heaven. Long, wavy, ebony hair reached the floor where she stood, and she cast her eyes upon her creator and smiled. “Father!” The long arms went around the old man’s neck, and he chuckled softly.

“Lucifer, this is Miasa. Your sister.” He turned to Lucifer from the girl who stood patiently waiting her instructions from her creator. “You may go, Lucifer, but just a word of caution. I already know how the battle will end.”

“We’ll see, Father.” Lucifer sneered. He turned his back to go, and paused as the voice reached him from the artist.

“Oh, and Lucifer…. Please come see me more often. It is not every day that I am allowed to have the presence of my most beautiful son.” Lucifer nodded curtly before exiting the shop.


*******

Darien found himself kept at bay from the kitchen by excellently aimed objects that would hit the wall and bounce onto the carpet. He dared to peek in, and he was met with the amusing sight of his brother in the wheelchair with a technologically advanced coffee pot on his lap. “You son of a bitch. You were supposed to buy one that I can work without needing a rocket scientist to help me.” He snapped. He reached for a plastic coffee mug, and he hurled it at Darien who dodged it expertly.

Cricket was handsome in his own way with large, blue-green eyes and tawny blonde hair that fell attractively around his boyish face. It was obvious that he had once walked, but where his long legs had once been toned and well defined like the rest of his body, now, they had lost some of their mass and remained lifelessly underneath on the foot rests of the wheelchair.

Darien sighed. “I bought the best one. Didn’t it come with instructions?”

“Oh, yeah, like a coffee pot is supposed to have instructions, Dare. It’s like trying to convince Satan to read the Bible!” The young man hurled another item at his brother who caught it expertly this time, and gazed at his younger brother with only mild reproach. Cricket wheeled himself up to his brother and glared at him. “Why don’t you read the freaking instructions!” He pushed past his brother, his voice following him down the hallway. “All I ask for a is a stupid coffee pot…and what does he get? A freaking technologically advanced coffee pot that needs a rocket scientist to work it….” The plethora of insults continued to his room.

Darien sighed and gently picked up the discarded coffee maker and sat it on the counter. He closed his eyes tightly and raked a hand through his tawny hair, and he made his way back into his office through the apartment. Things had not always been this way, and Darien, no matter how strong or brilliant, found it difficult to deal with the constant borage of emotions that endlessly crashed down on him.

He plopped down in his office chair, burying his hands in his hair, and pulled at it gently. Something had to relieve this God awful headache that kept splitting his head every time Cricket went on his rampages, and Excedrin just wasn’t doing the trick. Darien growled in annoyance, and with a smooth, deliberate motion, he raked all the bills on his desk into the floor. “Fucking hounds.” He snapped at the harmless papers. “Why can’t you just pay up and fix him so he’s not fucking sick anymore!” Darien’s brown eyes closed in pain, and he leaned back in the chair.

The comforting silence of the office was shattered by the annoying ringing of his cell phone which he promptly snapped open and snarled into the receiver, “Hello!”

“Darien, did I catch you at a bad time?” The sweet voice on the other end of the line was enough to soothe the ruffled feathers, and he sighed softly.

“No. I’m just…going through some paperwork.” He answered softly. “What can I do for you, Boss?”

“Uh, I was gonna bring over the closing paperwork for the RLD building for you to take a look at since you’re my knight in shining armor and all.” She chuckled. “And I got a call from Cricket this morning, and he asked for a simple coffee pot.”

Darien, despite his brother’s eccentric antics, laughed. “Paperwork is fine. What did my brother say about the coffee pot?”

“That it was too hard for him to work. He said there were more buttons on it than the cockpit of the company chopper on a cold day in January. Whatever that meant.” She laughed lightly into the phone. “But I’m bringing him a simple coffee pot. It has one button, and it’s labeled ‘On and Off’ for his convenience.”

Darien sighed into the phone. “Jenny, you are my goddess.”

“No, sweetheart. I’m just your guardian angel.” She laughed into the phone. “I’ll be over there in a few minutes. I’m on Madison Street right now.”

“Alright, Boss. I’ll tie Cricket down to his seat.”

“You do that.” She laughed.

*******

The knock on the door sent Darien running, and Cricket creeping into his room, trying to hide his obvious paralysis from his crush. Jenny smiled brightly and held out the coffee pot like a trophy as Darien allowed her entrance into the apartment. “Well…where’s Cricket?” She asked brightly.

“Uh, hiding. He had some complications from the accident, and he’s shy over it.” He said carefully. A no small amount of cursing came from the back bedroom as Cricket cursed his brother for telling the truth to the beautiful executive. A door opened down the hall, and an attractive, boyish face peeked out.

“Thanks for the coffee pot, Jen. You can have the other one. It’s a piece of shit.” He declared smartly. “Mr. Brilliance might be able to work it…if he ever drank coffee, but instead, he sticks to that nasty-ass brandy that you’ve hooked him on, and quite frankly, I hate the smell of it…”

The one sided conversation continued as Jenny rolled her eyes good naturedly and smiled at Darien, offering him a thick folder of papers. “Once you sign these, the deal will be set. Just call the bank when you’re done so they’ll continue the transfer.” She explained quietly. Darien flipped through the papers and paused at Tauri’s name on one of the papers.

“Tauri brokered the deal?” He asked sharply.

“Uh, yeah. That was the meeting that you couldn’t get to, and the guy was driving up the price. Tauri made him drive it back down…with persuasion.” She added with a smirk.

“Yeah, I know her form of persuasion.” Darien remarked dryly.

“Well, he wanted me to pay eight million for it! Three million is really still asking too much, but it’s for a shelter. A big one at that.” She explained.

The conversation from the hallway was non-stop as Cricket complained about the coffee pot from his partially opened door, and Jenny glanced down the hall with amused eyes.

“So, why do you call him Cricket?” She asked sweetly. Darien rolled his eyes and motioned to the hall with a flippant hand.

“…and you know, the bastard, he set the coffee pot down, left, and didn’t even help me plug the bitch in. He assumed that I was smart enough to handle it, I guess, but I mean, geeze, look at me. Like I can handle a coffee pot with five hundred buttons that requires programming and a goddamn PhD. You think I care about programming? I want a pot that I can turn on to make coffee and turn off when I’m doing fucking drinking it…” And it continued on.

Darien impishly smirked at Jenny. “I named him Cricket when we were kids because he never stops chirping.” Jenny’s laugh filled the apartment like the sound of a thousand tiny, delicate bells, and the onslaught of complaints in the hall stopped at the sound.

Jenny stepped past Darien quietly, and she made her way down the hall to the partially opened door, but when she tried to push it open, the sound of a hand slapping against it to stop it startled her. The previously mischievous voice was now quiet and strained. “Please don’t. Don’t look at me when I’m like this.”

Jenny sighed softly and let the pressure up off the door. “Cricket, I don’t care what you look like.”

“I look the same.” He growled in annoyance. “Will you just please leave now?”

“No!” Jenny suddenly snapped. “You quit the company. You don’t even call me anymore. Sheesh, Cricket, you even took me out on a couple of dates, and then, you just completely disappeared after the accident at the work site. No one will give me any details except that a beam fell on you.”

The door then slowly opened, revealing a wheelchair, and a very ashamed Cricket with his head hung, the tawny blonde hair falling into his eyes with a shadow. Jenny didn’t gasp or carry on like he expected her to. Instead, she went to her knees in front of him and wrapped her long, slender arms around his neck. His eyes widened for a minute, and then, his long, muscular arms wrapped around her gently. “I’ll fix this. I promise.” She whispered into his ear.

A deep breath of relief exhaled from his lips, and his strong arms enveloped his friend. “Thanks, Jen.” She kissed his cheek and with drew from him, leaving him with a smile in his room before she ran into Darien in the hall way.

“Please, be careful going home, hmm?” He escorted her to the door. “Call me when you get back to your apartment.”

“I will, Dare.” She kissed his cheek gently and before she turned to go, she looked up at him. “All the calls I’ve been getting from the insurance company…all the questions… They’re denying him surgery, aren’t they?”

“Yeah.” Darien answered dejectedly.

Something inexplicably angry flashed through the beautiful emerald eyes before Jenny smiled gently at Darien and blessed him with a kiss before stepping away. “I’m going home. See you at work tomorrow.” With that, Jenny headed back to her apartment, her heart heavy for the charming man that used to stand just as tall as his brother.

****

The characters of Day Breaks belong to the Mad Hatter (not on AFF.Net) and Bruce’s Girl (BrucesGirl). The story is original, and if it is alike to any other plot, it is unintentional and coincidental. All inquiries to archiving must be directed to Bruce’s Girl or to the Mad Hatter, and fan art that is requested to be on the website will be received via email with disclaimers.

Characters are based on the personalities of eight real life friends, but the story is in no way based on real life events. Any likeliness to real life events, places, or names is also unintentional and coincidental.