The abandoned barn bordered the edge between the forest and sprawling pastures. Trees had begun to overtake the clearing while vines claimed the sides of the sagging gray wood. The building slouched to the side like a propped-up hip. Pick-up trucks and rusted out cars packed the small dirt patch serving as a parking lot.

Angel circled overhead, lowering with each turn. A stinging ache throbbed in his shoulder. each time he flapped his wings. It had opened again a few times that day during work. He was nearly out of fresh bandages.

He landed on the overgrown weeds near the front entrance. Already, he could hear music blaring from the inside. In fact, he was surprised the heavy drums and bass didn't bring the whole place down around their ears. If the older island inhabitants were to be believed, Jenkin's barn had stood here just as lopsided and decrepit then too.

His wings pulled back, moving almost as separate entities, and slipped through the slits under his skin. It hurt only for a moment as they writhed, eventually getting comfortable. No new blood stained his bandage at least. Perhaps a scab had finally formed. His muscles were still sore from a long day at the dock. A new supply ship carrying dry-goods from the mainland was set to arrive tomorrow morning. He had spent the majority of the afternoon loading crates onto trucks headed for the market.

Angel stepped into the side door of the barn. The heavy guitar riffs of the live band rattled his bones instantly.

A ring of stacked hay bales took up a large portion of the open space. Two men squared off against each other to the raucous drunken cheers of the crowd of bystanders. One of them had fists made of steel. They flashed, reflective, under the multicolored lights. They made the man glitter like a disco ball as he shifted flesh to metal to deflect the impact of his opponent's blows.

The dirt floor was tramped down under thousands of feet over the years. Angel pushed through the crowd toward the bar, eager for a drink. By some miracle, he found an empty stool.

Cassie was bartending tonight. Her long hair was twisted into two braids of twining black and green strands, matching her emerald eyes. Glistening sweat fixed the white tank top to her tan skin and the denim shorts sat low on her hips, exposing her stomach and belly-button ring. Glitter and stick-on gems decorated the round features of her face.

She pretended to ignore him when he flagged her over. "No shirt, no service. Sorry Grub."

"Come on Cass."

She stooped below the counter and grabbed a bottle of beer out of the mini-fridge and slid it over.

"On the house," she said when he reached for his wallet.

"I need liquor, not pity," Angel grumbled.

"Then I suggest you stop being so pitiful," said Cassie, leaning forward on her elbows so they could hear each other. "Better enjoy it now. I'm only on the bar for a little bit longer. Once the band's done, Blossom and I are fire-spinning tonight."

I wish I had half as much energy as Cass.

She was always dancing; hula-hooping, fire-spinning or aerial-silk - it didn't matter so long as she was moving.

"I hope you're not here to fight," she said. "Ever since Jeff got Aluminum Carl in here from the mainland, he's been hogging the ring. No one can beat him. The pot is ten thousand dollars already."

It's never gotten that big in such a short time. I've only ever seen a thousand for the really good ones. I've barely ever gotten two-hundred. This is nuts.

A fighter could wrack up a lot of money so long as they kept winning. If they decided to step away before losing a fight, the pot was theirs, but if they lost, they were out.

"Nah, I'm good," Angel said, but it was tempting. "Have you seen Nyx?"

I hope she doesn’t talk about moving in again. Why can’t she just be chill for once?

"She's over there somewhere," Cassie said, pointing to the distant corner of the room. It was as far from the amassing crowd as one could get. "That was the last I've seen of her."

"Thanks."

Angel took his beer and hopped off the stool. The crowd had thickened, and the raucous clamoring as the fights raged on roared over the music. A thick haze of smoke hung in a fog. He wove through the people, smiling and nodding at those that recognized him, but didn't risk stopping to chat.

He scanned the groups huddled together to see if he could spot her. Angel perked, shaken from his tired mind by Nyx's mischievous smile and the way her eyes glistened in the changing strobe lights. Chocolate eyeshadow was smeared on her lids by a hasty finger beneath a ring of black eyeliner.

A joint pressed between her smudged red lips. Just enough of her dark roots showed through her short pink hair. She kept it messy on purpose. Angel adored how much effort she put into creating the illusion of casual indifference.

Nyx embraced him, careful to keep the joint in her hand well away from his hair. She pressed her lips to his and for a moment, all thought ceased to exist.

When they let go, she handed him the joint. He inhaled the earthy smoke before passing it back to her.

"No Alistair tonight?" he asked.

"He went to the mainland to load up the ship," she said. "I almost thought you'd have to."

"I probably should have. I'm fucking broke."

“I would have understood if you wanted to cancel,” she said.

“Yeah, but I’d rather be here with you.”

“How’s your shoulder healing?” Her eyes danced to the bandage and he regretted not putting a shirt back on.

“Well enough. It doesn’t take long.”

“Not unless you keep cracking it open,” she said, flicking ashes onto the dirt floor.

They spent the night dancing together. Nyx was gracious enough to buy his drinks, warning him not to get used to it. It was a belated birthday gift for tonight only. Still, guilt kicked his pride in the teeth.

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"What do you want for your birthday?" Angel asked. By now, his words slurred. "Name anything."

He wanted to promise her everything, yet nothing at the same time lest she set her expectations too high.

What can I offer but disappointment?

"Anything?" She quirked an eyebrow and smiled over the rim of her shot glass. Her grin was sly, perhaps the only indication of her fox shifting nature. They clinked glasses and took the shot. Nyx grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut. "Did you think any more about what I asked last night?"

She looked up at him. The hope in her eyes was gut twisting.

"Not yet," he said, tensing. "I haven't had time."

"We could pool our money together. It would make it a lot easier to save up."

"For what?"

"We should start thinking more seriously about the future."

"Do we have to do that right now?"

"You can't party forever," she said.

"Why can't I?"

"It's time to stop goofing off and really consider what we're doing with our lives. I've never heard you plan beyond the next weekend adventure. Now look at your shoulder -"

"C'mon," he groaned. It was suddenly difficult to catch his breath. He struggled to remain casual. Angel crushed out what was left of the joint and slipped the remains into his pocket. "I'm gonna get a drink. You want one?"

"I thought you said you were broke?"

Angel rolled his eyes and headed for the bar. Nyx stayed where she was, still pressed against the wall, her arms firmly crossed.

The Barn was full to bursting with people. The metal man was still fighting. Now sweat glistened on his bare torso. Muscles rippled with exertion. Angel thought of a glazed ham and tried not to laugh.

Cassie wasn't at the bar, so he paid, scraping the lining of his wallet for change. A pit dropped in his stomach, wondering if he had saved enough leftovers in the fridge to get him through the week.

He took the drinks to Nyx. She was rigid, feigning apathy. A pang, like panic, seized him by the ribs.

Can't she yell instead?

Angel passed her a beer like placing an offering on an altar. "I need a little more time is all."

Her shoulders slouched, slowly sipping her drink. Green eyes hard as stones.

Angel pecked her cheek, like kissing marble. "I promise, I'll put my two best brain cells on it. I'll answer you... sometime."

"I mean it," she said. "I'm going stir crazy at home. I gotta get out one way or another. I love 'em but -"

"What?" Angel gasped. "Alistair and Cassie get on your nerves? Never. I don't believe it. I won't hear your slander."

“Angel, I’m serious,” she exclaimed. “I really can’t take it anymore. If you won’t let me move in with you, I’m gonna have to do something -”

“Like what?” His tone sharpened. “Find someone else?”

“No! I can live alone you know,” Nyx said. “In fact, I’m starting to think I might prefer it.”

“Maybe,” he said, attempting to remain casual, but his voice tightened in his throat, “but there’d be no one to nag half to death, so you might wither away instead. You’d have to lecture yourself in the mirror or something for survival.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits, grip tightening around her glass.

Fuck, now I’ve done it.

“I’m going to find Cassie,” she said through carefully restrained frustration. “Come find me when you’re ready to talk like an adult. Until then, I don’t even want to look at you.”

Shit.

Nyx disappeared into the crowd. His heart beat so loud in his chest it hurt. He contemplated going home, but settled for stepping out for fresh air instead.

Maybe she’ll cool down. She always does.

Angel pushed through the throng toward the door. The crowd erupted as the metal man threw a left hook, catching his opponent on the chin, tossing the smaller man backwards to land flat on his back.

The unconscious opponent was dragged up and out of the ring by his group of friends while the referee raised the metal man's arm high in the air.

"Aluminum Carl does it again!" The referee, Jeff, cried. His voice was abnormally loud and carried itself easily through the space. "A new record folks, five straight rounds undefeated. Which unlucky soul is next? Ten thousand dollars is on the line!"

The crowd hushed as mutants murmured amongst themselves. It seemed everyone willing to take on Aluminum Carl was already unconscious. The metal man roared his victory.

Five fights in a row? How is the man still standing? A feather could probably knock him down...

The idea and the action occurred all at once. Angel cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice the best he could.

"I'll do it!"

"We have a taker!" Jeff cried. He squinted with a hand over his eyes to see better - pointing when he spotted Angel. "Get up here Grub! Get ready to be flattened!"

Angel walked through the crowd to the hay bales. The pain in his left shoulder throbbed, feeling the blood soak the bandage. He flexed his fingers to get out all the jitters. Already, people were taking bets. Shouts from loan sharks barked out, adding to the din. He hopped into the ring.

Aluminum Carl looked a lot bigger up close and despite himself, sweat began to bead on the back of Angels' neck.

Jeff bellowed out the count down. "1... 2..."

Angel shook out his limbs, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His heart pounded under his temples. Sweat blurred his vision. The bright multi-coloured lights were vibrant and for a moment, his sensitivities worked against him. All colours and sounds swarmed into one. He took a second to center himself.

"Go!"

Carl swung and Angel ducked, relieved to find he was at least more nimble than the larger man. As Angel popped back up, he threw his elbow into Carl's right temple. The man stumbled back, then rushed forward. Angel danced out of the way, laughing. A metallic fist caught him in the jaw.

Angel's head snapped to the side. He spit blood. Heat flared in his chest, and when his vision cleared again, he honed in on Carl. All edges sharpened. Nothing else in the world existed. The sound of the crowd and the music faded to a mumble in the background. Every cell in his body roared to life.

Angel rushed forward, stooped low and tackled Carl, taking him to the ground. Carl tried to get him off, but Angelus gripped him closer. Thick fingers coiled through his hair as Carl yanked him away, tossing him to the dirt.

A metal clad foot caught him in the ribs. Pain flared and he couldn't see. A rib splintered as the air whooshed out of him. He clutched his chest and staggered to his feet, gasping for breath like a fish out of water. Each inhale twisted like a spear through his chest. He swayed.

Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all?

"You done?" Carl asked, his fists raised in defense.

"Not even close," Angel rasped.

No way am I giving up now. Maybe I can hang on a little longer...

He stepped forward, biting off a scream. Pain zinged through his body. He swung his fist, entirely missing Carl's head by a few inches.

A metallic gut punch sent Angel backward, coughing another spurt of blood. The only sensation more vivid than pain was anger. This was what he was after - electric heat flooded his veins. No thoughts, just movement. No gnawing void, just rage.

The now familiar warmth returned. He didn’t have time to analyse it.

Angel rushed forward. Carl easily side stepped him, swerved and smashed his elbow into the side of Angel's head.

The crowd swam and the lights swirled. He tasted the copper tang of blood. Every beat of his desperate heart reminded him he was still alive.

Angel took another swing and hit the side of Carl's jaw. His knuckles shattered against the metal. The already broken finger singed pain on contact. He swung with his other fist, only for that hand to meet the same fate.

Carl's fist crashed into Angel's head. His vision blinked out for a moment then returned. Nausea flipped his guts. He lost his center of gravity. Another punch from Carl landed square on the center of his nose. The cartilage burst in a gush of blood. The force took Angel off his feet. He hit the ground, cracking the back of his head.

The world went black.