"Stupid faggot!"

"Pansy-ass loser!"

"Sissy!"

Julian spit out the dirt from his mouth, trying desperately to lift himself off of the ground. His head hurt, probably bleeding, and the chants of the children circling him grew louder and louder in his head. He glared up at them, emerald-green eyes narrowed, hatred marring his unusually beautiful, slightly ethereal features. His long copper blonde hair, once fastened in a thick braid, was now loose and falling into his eyes. He shook his head to clear it, trying again to stand.

"He wants some more! Well, let's give him some!"

Another fist in his face, and again he was down. He felt someone kneeling on his back, pulling his long hair to lift his head. He tasted blood. Oh, gods, please help me!

"Don't try to move." He heard a gruff voice in his ear, "Or I'll rip it out."

Julian's eyes widened as the boy desperately tried not to move, not even to breathe. The boy on his back took an arm and twisted it back until he cried out in agony.

"Okay! I admit it! I'm a faggot!"

Laughter from all sides.

"Wow, what a weakling! That was easy!" the boy yelped as he got up. Julian's head fell back onto the dusty ground, waves of darkness and nausea making it difficult for him even to contemplate standing up. He felt tears springing into his eyes, but he didn't want to cry. You remember what mother used to say. "Don't let them see you cry, because then they'll know they've won."

Thinking of his mother made the pain lessen a bit, and by sheer force of will he stopped crying.

If I go home and my father sees me, he'll call me a coward. He'll hurt me again. I can't go back there. Not now. Julian hid his head in his hands, trying to still the ache. It was a deep, pulsing throb. Dimly, he wondered if he was still bleeding.

"Are you all right, little one?" A voice. A deep, velvety voice which seemed to hold some depth of emotion. There was concern in that voice. Despite the tone, he was reminded of his mother. Maybe it's her. Maybe she sent an angel for me. Hah! As if I was ever that lucky.

Julian looked up, squinting as he tried to keep the light from searing into his eyes. He saw soft, black leather boots, a gray uniform with blue trim. Maybe he's a cop or something. Except... with the cape he was wearing, he would have to be some pretty eccentric cop.

But, as Julian saw the man's face, he stiffened in shock. It was an angel. What else could possibly be so beautiful? His hair was long, almost white and jaggedly cut, framing his bronze toned face. Whoever this man was, he was gorgeous.

Julian felt himself blushing as the man smiled.

"Can you stand up?"

Julian nodded, suddenly infused with a peculiar strength. He faltered as he straightened, and the man slipped one arm around his waist. He's so tall, and so beautiful. Why do I feel like I know him?

"My name is... Gabriel." He hesitated before saying his name, and Julian looked at him curiously. Perhaps he was wary of strangers?

"Do you speak?" Gabriel asked him, his strange, narrow silver eyes glittering. Julian looked away, blushing.

"Y-yes. My name is Julian Weiss. Thank you for your help." He tried to detach himself, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, and looked away from the man. He had to go home, before his father started to wonder where he was.

"I didn't help. I got here too late." There was regret in his voice, and Julian turned to stare at him. Gabriel met his eyes unwaveringly. They stood there for longer than was natural, eyes locked, and it was eventually Julian who was forced to look away.

"Well... thanks anyway."

Julian staggered his way home, his heart thudding nervously in his chest. He could feel the beautiful stranger's eyes one him until he turned the corner, and breathed a sigh of relief. Really, Julian, what were you afraid of?

He stopped before he reached the door, taking a deep breath. His father was home. Back from his week-long excursion in Tahiti with his new girlfriend. Julian didn't quite remember her name, only that his father had threatened to kick him out of the house if he dared to ruin the relationship for him. Greg had left him alone with his younger sister Olivia for an entire week, no food to speak of, no wood for the fire. That was all right, though. Julian was used to being neglected, ever since...

His mother.

Her death still cut through him like daggers. He remembered it perfectly, the long month of waiting for her to die, seeing her deteriorate more and more each day. Seeing her pale, ashen face, usually so full of life, spoiled by pain and sorrow. Seeing the tears in her eyes, and the fear. And... his father in the next room, 'discussing' the newest business transactions with his 'secretary', Carrie or Mary or whatever her name was. His mother had to have known about it, they weren't exactly discreet.

She had looked so... hopeless, in those last days. Her eyes dull, as though some great spark had been extinguished. He knew exactly what had caused that, and his father's newest secretary had only been part of it.

Sighing, he opened the front door hesitantly, fully aware of what his father would say, or rather do, to him. A million excuses flitted through his mind. I fell down a ravine, a bear mauled me, aliens attacked the school. Bracing himself, he stepped inside.

Olivia stared at him as he entered, her green eyes wide as saucers. He sat down at the kitchen table, not meeting her eyes.

"What happened to you?" She asked softly. Julian didn't look up.

"I got beat up, what do you think?" He snapped, and Olivia shrugged.

"Dad's gonna flip. You know he hates it when you act like a wimp."

"Tell me about it."

As if he had heard the entire conversation, Greg Weiss walked into the kitchen, got a beer out of the refrigerator, and walked out.

Julian stared after him, mouth dry. Any minute now, he'll walk back in and see me. It's inevitable.

Minutes passed, and he didn't come. Julian allowed himself to relax a bit. Could it be? Was he possibly going to get out of this one? It seemed too good to be true.

It was.

"Julian, come in here for a minute." Came his father's harsh voice from the living room. Olivia giggled nervously, and Julian glared at her.

"Shut up, ratmonger."

Olivia giggled again as Julian stood up nervously, knees shaking. He knew he looked terrible; his head and mouth were still bleeding, his shirt was torn, his face was covered with dirt. Looking down at the floor, he walked into the living room and sat down next to his father, unable to meet his eyes.

Greg didn't look at him, but continued to surf through the television channels distractedly. Finally, he spoke, causing Julian to jump.

"How was your day today, son?" Something sinister about that voice. Greg still sat with his eyes glued to the television.

"Uh... fine, dad." His father still wouldn't look at him. Still wouldn't tear his eyes away from the television. He took another swig of beer, and Julian wondered briefly how many he had had.

"That's not what I heard."

Julian felt a tightening in his stomach. Why couldn't the bastard just get it over with? The waiting was torture!

But of course, his father knew this.

"Oh, really?" He managed to choke out, looking out the window. "Got a call from Mrs. Smith today."

Julian said nothing, and the silence seemed to mock him, to stretch out endlessly as he waited. He took a shaky breath.

"Heard you got in a fight." His father said curtly. Julian allowed himself a quick glance upward, to see his father staring at him. There was no expression on Greg's face. He was cold as usual.

"Not exactly a fight, dad. More of a tiff, actually." Julian had a habit of using coyness and sarcasm when it was least appreciated.

This was one of those times.

His father stood up rather suddenly, knocking his chair over. He glowered down at Julian with hatred in his eyes. Julian flinched.

"Don't you dare talk to me that way, you ungrateful little bastard. I know what happened! I know everything."

"Everything, dad? I don't know what you mean!"

"They were right, weren't they? You are a faggot, aren't you?" Julian didn't answer, but felt anger rising in him. Would it hurt the man to give him just one kind word once in awhile? A simple, 'How's your head, son? Looks a bit bloody today, would you like me to get some ice?'

"Didn't I teach you right? Didn't I teach you that faggots are the work of Satan, son? Perversion is a sin. You're mother knew that. If she were here she'd straighten you out. Those kids had the right idea. Couldn't even fight back, could you? You're a disgrace!"

It simply hurt too much for Julian to hear his father say that. He glared at the taller man, eyes burning with anger. He didn't know what he was about to say, but he knew it had to be said.

"I thought adultery was a sin too, father." He hissed before he knew what he was doing.

"Did Terry or Carrie or whatever know about mother? Did she care?" His father's face reddened. Julian knew that look. His father was much stronger than a group of riled schoolkids, and a simple confession wouldn't save him this time. He reeled backwards, trying to escape.

His father grabbed him by his hair, cursing, and dragged him to the floor. Julian sobbed as Greg took off his belt, snapping it a few times for good measure. With the first harsh whip, he felt searing pain shooting up his leg. No cheap leather for Greg Weiss. He only bought the best quality.

"You ungrateful little son of a bitch. You snot-nosed little pervert! I ought to kill you!"

The belt's whip made his breath catch in his throat. The first few times were okay, he was used to it. Besides, the scars from the last time were healed.

But when the leather started to cut through his flesh, he cried out in pain. This is it, really it. He's going to kill me this time. Just like he said!

Julian felt a tightening in his stomach. Somehow... something was different. Something was happening to him. His hatred for his father permeated through him, causing his jaws to clench and his body to tremble. This was the last time.

The last time.

The pain stopped, and his father dropped the bloody belt beside him. Julian could scarcely move, the pain in his legs taking his breath away. Looking up, he heard his father laugh.

As the older man turned to take another swig of beer, Julian stood up quietly behind him. He felt a great, thunderous rushing in his ears, a rumble like a freight train. His fists clenched at his sides, and as they did, he felt something inside one of them. Looking down with faint surprise, he saw a long, sharp crystal, somewhat like an icicle. His fingers fit around it like it was made for him, part of his flesh, part of his arm. He felt a humming all around him. 'This is yours. You know what to do. The question is, can you do it?'

Of course I can. I'm not a wimp, and I'm not a weakling! I'll show him I'm not a weakling!

The room seemed to blur as Julian rushed forward and buried the ice crystal deep in his father's back. Greg Weiss gave a loud cry of pain, scrabbling behind him for it as he fell to the floor. He turned wide bloodshot eyes to his son, who stood before him like a tall, terrible avenging angel. Blood pooled down the bigger man's back, turning his white oxford shirt a bright crimson red.

Julian sat there for the longest time, staring at the dead body of his father. The rage dissolved, leaving him cold and empty. It simply... disappeared. The light outside the window seemed harsher than ever. What have I done?

It was then, at that opportune moment, that Olivia decided to see how bloody Julian was getting. Her eyes widened when she saw their father lying there, gaze flitting back and forth from Julian to their father and back again. Julian merely stared at her.

"What did you do, you freak?" She squeaked out, rushing towards the corpse. She sobbed over him like an infant, and Julian felt strangely empty inside. He didn't understand why he had done it. Killed my own father? That... that wasn't me, that person wasn't me! Shakily, he stood up and walked out the door.

He walked for about two minutes, and then broke into a run. Tears streamed down his face, causing him to choke, making the road ahead of him a blur. I killed my father! I killed my own father! I'm a murderer! A murderer and a freak! Julian ran faster as the sun sank below the horizon, casting the nearby houses in darkness. He was glad no one could see him. I'm sorry mother. I'm so sorry!

Julian didn't stop running until he reached his destination, navigating through the trees of the woods as he had done numerous times as a child. This was his place. His retreat from the world when his father was too violent or his sister was too annoying. Or when the pain of losing the only person who ever cared about him became too great. It was beautiful, a grove with a lake and a thick multitude of cherry trees which wept pink petals in the spring. He stumbled through the branches and multiflora mindlessly, letting them scratch his face without another thought. He was already a mess, the blood on his clothes and on his legs, the tears and dirt streaked on his face. And besides, who was here to see him? He collapsed when he reached the lake, sitting down on a fallen log and burying his head in his hands. He wasn't crying now. It was as if the reality of the situation had not yet sank in. No, his father wasn't dead. Nor was his mother. I'm an orphan. What will Olivia do without parents? Without anyone? She knows I did it! I'm going to be burned alive for this, I just know it.

Why did I do it? What is happening to me

But what was more important was how had he done it. Where had that crystal come from? Perhaps Satan was within him. Perhaps he had always been damned, from the beginning.

"Are you all right, little one?"

Julian could scarcely believe his ears. The stranger he had met earlier, Gabriel? He looked up, scarcely being able to see the outline of the beautiful stranger in the growing darkness. His hair seemed to glow with the orange light of the sunset. He wasn't smiling now. His voice was quiet, troubled. It was as if he knew what had happened!

Gabriel sat down next to him on the log, putting one arm around him. As if compelled, Julian wrapped both of his arms around the man's waist and buried his head on his shoulder, crying. I know I promised I wouldn't, mother, but there are some promises you just can't keep! I'm sorry I failed you. Gabriel stroked his hair lovingly, causing Julian to shiver slightly.

"It will be all right, Julian. I can help you."

Julian looked up at Gabriel, drying his eyes angrily. He hadn't meant to cry. Here he was, acting like a baby in front of a complete stranger. Well... not a complete stranger. He knew his name, at least.

"How?" Gabriel smiled, stroking his hair again. Julian relaxed into the taller man's arms, feeling strangely warm and safe. Thoughts of his mother and father drifted from his head. They didn't matter now.

"What if I told you..." Gabriel murmured, playing with a lock of his hair, "that I could bring you to a place where none of this mattered, where you would be able to forget about your mother and father, where you could be whatever you wanted and not care about what the world thinks of you?"

Julian looked at him skeptically. Such a place did not exist, but at that moment he was willing to believe anything.

"Then I would beg you to take me there." He whimpered, looking in wonder at the silvery man who was watching him so intently. He felt as though his insides were on fire.

"No need to beg." Gabriel stood up, taking Julian with one arm into his cape. They walked to the edge of the lake, and Gabriel gestured strangely with his free arm. Almost instantly, a swirling, dusky doorway appeared. Julian stared at it, mouth agape.

"Wh-what is that?" He croaked, turning his wide eyes on Gabriel. Gabriel smiled slightly, brushing a lock of hair from his face. Julian winced as his fingers passed over the wound on his head, and Gabriel frowned. Some struggle went on behind his silver eyes, though his mouth remained grim.

"Your future, Julian." He whispered, "The place where you belong."

Julian looked again at the portal, suspicion in his eyes. How did he know he wasn't dreaming? What if he was lying on the floor in the living room of his house, passed out from the pain, and he would soon wake up to the nightmare all over again?

But as he looked back into Gabriel's eyes, a thought came unbidden into his mind. I trust you. I would trust you with my life. I will go where you tell me to.

Without another word, he plunged into the darkness... and fell. He screamed as he plummeted into the depths of that darkness, grasping out for something, anything.

Gabriel, help me!

And then the darkness washed over him and he fainted.