Nobody knew if Angel was going to be safe.

Oh, that evil version of her was gone, alright.

But now she was unconscious with open eyes, all normality gone from them and replaced with a glowing gold color. And she was wreaking havoc.

The other Guardians could have easily overpowered her. But she was fast. And dangerous. She'd whipped out a bow and arrow (go figure) and was now pulling some Hawkeye stunts midflight, firing arrows with deadly accuracy.

The Guardians weren't getting anywhere with her. North was too bulky and cumbersome. Toothiana kept getting in the way. Jack kept missing her and Summer's wings were too big to maneuver herself like Angel's could. Bunny's boomerangs simply flew around Angel, and one came back to clout him in the forehead. Angel kept breaking through Sandy's dreamsand.

I realized I had to try and help her break out of whatever had her mind. I flew toward her, ready to fight her if needed.

And then there was a deep, thick, evil laughter. Angel's eyes cleared and shut, and she dropped limp to the ground from a height of thirty feet. The Guardians crowded her, passing through me like I was a vapor in the still, somber air of an old battlefield.

Summer ran her hand across Angel's forehead and pushed back her bangs, frowning with concern. Angel's face was beaded with sweat but she shivered as if freezing. Summer stood.

"What happened?" North asked.

Summer's lips pressed into a thin line. "Pitch."

----

All the main Guardians had gone off doing their daring deeds to go, like, tell Pitch what for or something.

Like that was going to work. How many times had they done that? Let me see. A great many times, more so than I could count. It seemed like they just did the same thing over and over again. Monotonous beatings and repetitive skirmishes. It was all the same. It was a mindless routine gone habitual and meaningless. It was engrained in their muscle memory. Only thing that changed? Each side got alternately stronger. Pitch would strengthen every other battle, as did the Guardians.

Did they need new warriors? Absolutely.

Did they believe in the warriors needed? No.

So I was left behind to care for Angel. North had sent his elves to do it, but they were too scared of the monster she'd become down under. And so I took the elves' place. I didn't mind. It's not every day you get to care for someone who'd otherwise never be within your reach.

I sat at Angel's desk, whittling out the dragon I'd seen in my dreams. There was something so familiar about her shape. I couldn't put my finger on it. Her torpedo shaped torso and aerodynamic head made her look like she could fly three hundred miles an hour, at least. Her wings were huge and unconventionally six-fingered. No dragon I'd ever heard of looked like that. Unless....

The idea was rammed out of my memory by a cloud of forgetfulness. And by the fact that I'd made a small flaw in the design of my carving.

"Oh no. This won't work."

Suddenly from Angel's side of the room: "H-hello? Is anybody there?"

I jumped, knocking over a lamp that sat on Angel's desk. I hastily fumbled for it and set it back up messily. My thumb started to sting, and I realized I'd cut myself when Angel spoke to me. I sucked away the blood and glanced up at her. Her eyes were solid black for a moment--a side effect of being possessed by Pitch--as she rubbed the sleep out of them.

I held my breath. Should I approach her yet?

She frowned, looking a little nervous. "This is getting way too much like a horror movie," she remarked.

I knew I had to say something. Unfortunately I was flustered and unsure of what else to do so I blurted out, "You awake?" Gods blast it, Ben! Of course she's awake!

"Yeah, I am. And I'm a three hundred year old senior with a black belt." I smirked. Three hundred years. Compared to me she's a kid.

Wow. I just realized how creepy that is. I mean, I'm nearly three thousand years old and she's a tenth of that. But we're immortal. Age difference shouldn't matter, right?

I swear, I'm not a pedophile.

Angel added, "I'm also not afraid to punch creepy guys in the face, so you might want to make sure that you don't freak me out."

Trust me kid, you're already freaked out.

I decided it would be a good idea to show her that I meant no harm. I emerged from the shadowy corner that her desk sat in. Her eyes locked onto me, now free of the blackness, and suddenly her cheeks were pink.

I cleared my throat. "The sleep must be making you forgetful," I offered. "It's Ben! You know, Guardian of Imagination, Protector of Children, your friend?"

She buried her face in her hands, embarrassed. I couldn't blame her.

She took a breath and sat up straight, giving me a small smile. "Hey, sorry about all of that, I'm just--"

"Tired, panicked, all of these other things. It happens when Pitch gets inside your head," I summed up.

Angel looked alarmed. "How--" she started, faltering. "How did you know that?"

I shrugged. "You kept on whispering things while you slept, but you kept mentioning Pitch. Also, when you woke up, your eyes were coal black. Only happens when Pitch takes over your mind."

She frowned. "Well, that's creepy," she decided.

I nodded. "Yeah, it is," I concurred. "But I need to ask you one thing. What exactly did Pitch say to you?"

She began to answer, and suddenly her eyes were filled with fear. I glanced over to where she was looking and a sharp pain dug into my bicep. I bit back a cry of pain as exhaustion consumed me, and then everything was black.

----

I woke up, sore and with a headache. Angel was staring at the ground and panting. She looked shaken, scared.

I tried to remember how I fell asleep and why my arm hurt, but I popped up nonetheless. "Angel?" I stammered. "Wha-what happened? Did I just fall asleep on you talking? I am so sorry, Angel."

Angel didn't respond. Something had terrified her, and I had the feeling that whatever it was was what made me fall asleep.

I took a step closer and tried to catch her eye. "Angel? You okay?"

She looked at me, her eyes blazing with a terror so intense she should have caught on fire. "Yeah. Totally fine," she said haltingly, everything about her making it very clear that she was NOT fine. "You know what? I just realized that I'm behind on love letters and stuff, so I should probably get to work on that. You know where the door is."

"But--"

"Bye, Ben! It was great seeing you." Angel wasn't going to take any opposition on her decision to have me gone, but I was still confused. I wanted to get it sorted out. But someone didn't want to be talked to.

I set my jaw and turned on my heel stiffly, angry that I couldn't help her and rather put out that she'd have me gone like that. The door closed and a sob burst out from behind it, one of desperation and fear. I fought the urge to rush back in and tried to ignore the pain Angel's cries inflicted on my already-wounded heart. My mechanical wings spread in the darkness and I took off toward home.