He watched her sitting with Kevin, giggling happily at his and Scott's antics. The last time that he'd seen her, she had been little more than a child, but now… now she was anything but and the tightening of his jeans in a certain area reminded him that his body was well aware of that fact. He watched her bounce up and dance around giggling as eyes followed her and not just his own. There weren't words even in a vocabulary as vast as his for how badly he wanted to make her his own. However, it had been forbidden by the powers-that-be.

Feeling a hot gaze trained upon him, Scotty got up and wandered away not wasting the time to see which of the two Outsiders it was. It didn't really matter anyway. When it came to his angel, theirs were the only opinions that mattered. Wandering down an empty hallway he stumbled into an also empty room headless of its darkened state. He, after all, preferred the darkness. The light had become only a source of pain, reminding him of the Angel that he would never possess.

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out one of the many joints and a lighter hidden there. Lighting the tip, he inhaled deeply as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall behind him. He wasn't aware of how long he had sat there smoking before the door opened up just enough for someone to squeeze in and then close it behind them sealing the two of them back into the darkness. He knew the identity of the hallucination, even though he couldn't clearly see it. His needs and his heart had brought her forth, and the light that she possessed naturally shone around her telling him that it was his angel come to visit him. His mind tried to scream at the wrongness of the situation. His angel, a being of the light, venturing into the darkness seeking out him, not just a being of the dark, but some would say that he was its keeper. As her hands touched his face while she straddled his legs, he stubbornly pushed away the warning, needing this moment too badly even if he believed that it was only a dream.

His hands rested on her hips, the joint smoldering forgotten on the floor next to them. He could barely make out her shifting her hands from his body to her own as she rid herself of the top and bra she wore. His eyes traveled over the body that was familiar to him, not wondering how he was suddenly able to see it. If he were in his right mind, he would wonder how he came into possession of this knowledge. The haze clouding his mind, however, robbed him of the troublesome wonderment and gifted him with the bliss of ignorance. Then the hands were back on him, removing his T-shirt before roaming over his chest while their lips locked with need and passion. His fingers dug into her hips as if he could hold the illusion in place making it real. He felt her begin moving. As his hands moved under her skirt, he became aware of her pantiless state and the fact that she was rubbing herself into him through his jeans. He half moaned and half-cried calling out her name, not aware the first kiss had ended until the next one started.

His body was filled with a painful longing that was so intense that he was sure it would bring about the moment of his death. Breaking their kiss he cried out for her, not knowing tears were coursing down his face as her hands worked on his jeans freeing him from its prison. He became aware of her hands on him, working him into a hardened state, as he continued to call for her, declaring his devotion and undying love even if she were only a hallucination that would just disappear in mere moments. He felt her slipping over him and, once more grabbing her hips, regained something resembling control as she began to ride him. Soon though, the fragile control was gone again, and he was shouting her name as her head fell to rest on his shoulder. He became aware of their releases so close together that in the dream it seemed as if they were simultaneous. He heard her whisper in his ear, "I love you, my Raven," before lifting herself off of him.

Her cry of pain didn't register then as he was already lighting another joint, eager to dull the pain of the fading dream. Later, when he saw her standing with Sean O'Haire, one of the Power Plant boys, the bandage on her hand or the swollen look of her lips didn't register in his drug induced haze. He only saw her standing with another man and turned from the pain that the sight brought. He could only wish that she could be his as she was in his dreams.

He also couldn't hear the hushed conversation she held with the larger and younger man, but if he could, his pain would be no longer. "I don't think that he even realized it was me," Angel whispered to O'Haire. "He's so stoned these days. I don't think he has any clue what is going on between us. I don't think that he realizes anything but his drugs and his pain. I am so afraid that he's gonna get lost in there and never come out of the cloud long enough to realize I love him. Why can't he see how I feel?" O'Haire sighed watching the stoned older man. "Some day he will, Angelface. Someday he will."

The End!