Revenge of the Rogue Angel.

Chapter 56-subterfuge, with a dose of valour

Chapter 56: Subterfuge, with a dose of valour

Destrodian temporary HQ:

Crux was pissed, to say the least. He was so annoyed, to a bone-deep level about treating idiotic fools, who felt getting a war wound was akin to some kind of badge of honour, to the extent he was helping Grant and his team break up fights in the treatment rooms, emergency room and even the wards, due to these superciloius, arrogant and spolit brats of so-called men arguing over who had the best or biggest wound from that nights' battle.

Grant too, the big, friendly giant of a man, in charge of the security in the said area, was almost inclined to let them fight and fight until one of them could fight no more; another less scummy Destrodian bully-boy to deal with. Unfurtunately, his girl, Denise would certainly not be happy, considering it was her job to patch them up, not to mention the repercussions that would be felt from Malum, who would consider his actions a dereliction of duty.

With a huge sigh of discontent, he waded in to a mass brawl, using his massive size to pull back the three men beating onto one unlucky darksider, who had fallen to the floor during the assault and would likely never have got back up, should Grant have just left him here.

Crux and Amicius too, were getting more and more heavy-hearted; it was clear from the stories they had heard in the two days since the battle had started, that the dark angels were winning hands down, judging by the numbers they boasted to have slain.

The only silver lining was finding Cris, well, Mundati, he guessed. The two boys and Amicius too, despite bringing him back not even 24 hours ago, had suddenly realised exactly how much time they had wasted on Earth, hating on one another.

Cris was so, so surprised to discover that he actually was still fond of his brother; he didn't realise how much he had missed his brother, or how much he had pined for an older brother figure in his life. Of course, Deus had proved a very close substitute and he would always see him as a brother too; yet, there was an undeniable bond to his brother he shared a blood lineage with.

He was seriously trying to remember to keep his distance from Ethan, well, Crux as he was called now; as far as the other Destrodians were concerned, he was nothing more than a slave, a lightsider ' whipping boy', who was, fortunately for him, under Crux's protection.

Despite this, he daily brave catcalls from the dark angels, the odd slap or kick as he scurried about the unit, helping wherever help was needed; it took one hell of a lot of restraint to not retaliate, but Crux had explained the implications of doing so, namely losing his protection and being left alone, in a sea of nefarious darksiders. This was enough of a threat to encourage him to keep his thoughts and limbs to himself, no matter how tempting.

Crux looked across the room at Mundati, nodding towards the accomodation he shared with Amicius, ready for the three of them to take a well-needed break from the 14 hour influx of injured that had poured into the unit since battle ended at 6am.

Amicius smiled at the brothers as they entered the rooms they shared; she could see a likeness in the boys, who shared similar mannerisms and the same type of expressive eyes but seriously hoped no-one else paid such close attention.

Putting her feet up beneath her on the sofa, she happily accepted a steaming hot cup of coffee and sank exhaustedly into the soft cushions.

" Okay, boys?" she enquired, hoping that Mundati didn't have too hard a time from the others.

Mundati shrugged his shoulders, unwilling to tell her that he was getting a little irritated with the immature catcallings of the darksiders.

" I'm good thanks," he said, smiling at his one day to be sister-in-law. Do you two have any plans, you know, " he said, changing his voice to a whisper, " after the fighting has stopped?"