[center][i]Earlier That Evening[/i][/center]

	A deafening silence fell over the narrow hallway of the worn down apartment building after the sound of a single door closing roughly against its frame cut through the night. Vision took in the micro fractures in the varnish and she could see her strained expression in the brass numbers and letters screwed into the barriers face.  

	A grim frown pulled at the corners of her quivering lips and her lids drooped sadly over her unbelieving eyes. She felt sick to her stomach and her hand rested over her mid-section trying to hold back the retching of emotions that threated at the back of her throat; choking back down the bubble of acid that had worked its way up. 

	Her other hand came up and rested against the rough finish of the wood as her head lowered; crimson locks hiding her features as her nails dug into the surface and scratched lines through it, curling trails of the finish floating like feathers to the tiled floor which she stood upon. 

	A small breeze cut through the broken window at the end of the hallway, blowing a discarded ratty piece of newspaper against her leg; bending along the womans calf before it settled over the tip of her boots. Slow splatters began to form on the paper as tears broke from their cling along the line of her jaw; the ink of the periodical running with each damp droplet.

	“Please… don’t do this…” 

	The whisper cracked with raw emotion as it came from her parted lips but no one heard them.  She had kept her composure within the confines of the apartment when confronted with his message, too in shock over the situation to even be able to muster anything but complete neutrality. Trying to pass it off as if everything was okay with her but that was far from the truth. 

	She turned to logic and reason, trying to convince him that it could work; that she was willing to try and fail but that it was folly for them to just walk away and act like there had never been anything between them. There had been and it had been something so warm and welcoming that the suns crest over the horizon seemed like a barren wasteland of nothingness in the depths of winters icy chill. 

	Truth had been told and now her mind regretted letting that part of her be known in some way. She never imagined that he would take it like he did. Confusion was understandable and they had seemed to work past that; then this evening she was blindsided and felt as if she had been sucker punched in the gut by Michaels very fist, knocking the wind out of her and nearly sending her to her knees when he spoke.

	“I’m breaking this off.”  His voice had been so emotionless when he spoke; she had heard more guilt laced into his tone when he knocked over a drink than when he ended things. Everything seemed to go dark and there was a burning beneath her chest; a bullet of separation ripping through her. 

	Moments blurred and the room spun as he gave her half explanations. Questions, so many questions were forming in her minds eye but her lips could not form them. Slowly she backed out of the apartment and the door closed before her. 

	[center][i]Current Time[/i][/center]

	The quick flash of memory had drowned out anything going on around her and even Seras words were forgotten right then. Downing one last shot she tossed a wad of bills on the bartop and stood up as she slid her leather coat back on. The rickety barstool tipping over from the sudden movement of being shoved back by her rear as she stood and it crashing against one of the bodies that now lay strone on the floor. 

	“I’m out.” A halfhearted mutter laced with pain as she turned her back and strolled over the remains of the massacre. The door slamming shut as she walked out into the night. Sera shook her head slightly watching the Wrathful one turn and leave but she said nothing and tried to focus on the mess within her bar. 

	“Right…. So, who’s on clean up?” she asked as she eyed the remaining Fallen, the Seraphim, and his charge.