Title: Angels in a Cage: Chapter One, Seeds of Fate
Rating: PG-13 [mild language]

Summary: The seeds of so much are placed in the ground....



Sitting in a plastic chair, crinkling hospital gown covering his clothing, Howard looked down at the bundle in his arms as he fed the baby a bottle. She was absolutely perfect. Ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes, a cute button nose, a soft mass of dark curls, large soft eyes gazing up at him completely enamored him with his daughter. He could not think of any baby more perfect than her, more sublime than her. He was the most lucky father in the entire world.

And it saddened him greatly that his wife cared not for the baby. She had not even looked at the child after the labor was over, merely asked for her bible so that she could atone for the sin that brought forth the child. It troubled him that his wife could not think of physical love as anything but a sin, even between a husband and wife. While he had quieted his libido fairly well during the first years of their marriage, aided by girls he attended classes with at school that his wife never knew about, upon departure from the University of Washington’s Law School, he no longer had access to sexy and easy co-eds. That alone led to finally consummating his marriage, with many weeks of convincing, with his young wife, eight years after their wedding. A few months later the most beautiful little girl was born. While Emilie would not look upon her at all, Howard knew the baby changed his life, gave him purpose. His wife could worship her God, he had his daughter to care for.

“You know, you’re never going to have to worry about a single thing as long as I live, baby girl,” he commented softly. “Daddy’s going to take the very best care of you. Now and always.”



It had been twelve days and seven hours since he had spoken to any of his co-workers. It had begun as a way to piss off everyone else in the kitchen, since they all seemed to really enjoy yapping at each other all the time. But after a day or two of it, Chris decided it would be his great experiment. He didn’t need to talk to anyone anyways. People were just plain lame anyways. Originally just to chafe others, now it was a test to see how long that he could go without speaking to anyone.

But it was all about to end.

A man a few inches taller than him stalked towards him. Ignoring him, though it was not such a good idea to ignore one’s boss, Chris finished up his task, wiped his hands, and turned to head to the nearest exit, intending on taking his smoke break. However as his hand reached for the handle a large, dark hairy hand flattened on the door, keeping Chris from opening it. Slowly his ocean-colored eyes traveled up the man’s arm, finding his boss’s eyes. Saying nothing, Chris waited for it.

“I’ve had a number of complaints about you, Boyle,” he declared.

Chris merely shrugged, remaining silent.

“That you’re cold and unsociable.”

He shrugged again.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

Chris shook his head, keeping to his silence.

“Fine. Get the fuck out of my kitchen and don’t come back.”

With another shrug, Chris shoved his hands into his pockets, fishing out a cigarette. Not even pausing for a moment he shoved it between his lips, flicked out his lighter, and lit the cigarette. Inhaling deeply, he made certain to exhale his lung-full of cigarette smoke directly into his former boss’s face. He really didn’t give a fuck. Turning on his heels, he headed out of the kitchen, through the dining room, knowing full well that smoking in the restaurant was prohibited. And loving each step through it.



Normally every chance he got, Howard left the office early. He had an adorable baby girl to go home to, to dote on. But that was also before the new legal secretary caught his eye during the morning meeting and made certain to keep his attention all day long. He was in the process of picking up his folders to take home for the night after playing, feeding, and bathing his daughter before her bedtime, when the secretary entered his office. She closed the door behind her, turning the lock with a silent click. His eyes widened, a lump forming in his throat. He had not intended to send her any signals that what she was seemingly about to offer was okay. And now there was certainly no chance at escaping early, at beating the rush hour traffic out of Seattle proper back home to Everett.

“Um, can I help you?” he finally managed to mutter.

Stepping towards him, her fingers began to dance down the tiny, pale buttons of her off-white blouse, “I think the question is more, can I help you?”

His dark brown eyes looked into hers for a moment. A part of him wanted to reach across his desk and pull her into a heated embrace. Closing his eyes, he willed that particular part of his anatomy to quiet, as he had repeatedly for the past three years as it were. With a deep cleansing breath, his eyes re-opened, looking into the now topless secretary’s eyes.

“You can help me by putting on your shirt and getting out of my office,” he stated steadily.

She gasped slightly, her cheeks turning a bright red, “I thought... I thought...”

“That you would sleep your way up in this firm? That I was easy prey to start with? Nice try. Not going to happen,” Howard responded. “Get out now and I won’t take further actions against you, Miss... whatever.”

With a short glare at him, the blond secretary picked up her discarded blouse from the carpet and pulled it back on. She glared once more at him, as if his rejection of her made him the devil’s spawn, and hurried from the office while buttoning her blouse. Watching until she was so far from his office, he felt comfortable looking away from the open door, Howard finished gathering up his things to take home. He had a baby girl to take care of. He didn’t need some hussy to make him smile, just his daughter.

Within the hour, Howard pulled into the driveway. Pressing the button on the garage remote, he watched without emotion as the white door slid up into oblivion. His wife’s car was in the garage, which on one hand was good, since it indicated that his daughter was in fact home, but on the other hand it was not good, since it indicated his wife was home too. After all it was not like she would leave a three year old child home alone, right? Pushing the thoughts from his mind, Howard pulled into his half of the garage, turned off the vehicle, gathered his things, and headed in to greet his baby. Pausing just before entering the house, he closed the automatic garage door before pulling open the smaller one.

As per normal, he set his briefcase down in the mud room, stopping to remove his squeaky patent leather shoes, to loosen his tie, to start the transformation from lawyer to daddy. Before he even had the chance to remove his jacket a bubbly little girl hurried into the mud room, wrapping her pudgy arms around his leg. Chuckling, he wiggled his fingers under hers, lifting the little girl to rest upon his hip.

“How was my little angel today?” he asked softly, picking up his briefcase again to take it to his office.

“Dada!” she giggled.

With a smile, Howard kissed her nose, “You really ought to talk more, Lyssa.”

“Dada!”

Shaking his head, he continued on his path, talking slowly but calmly to his daughter, pausing to answer her silly questions whenever they arose. They deposited his briefcase before heading down the hall to change out of his work clothes. He immediately noticed she froze up, her bubbly questions silenced when they passed the room where his wife sat reading her bible. There seemed to be an almost palpable fear in the three-year old in his arms whenever they were near her mother. It made him wonder what Emilie did with the child when he was gone. Perhaps the time had come to separate Alyssa from her mother.

For the next few hours, Howard spent all of his time with his daughter. They ate a small meal together, not once even considering being joined by Emilie. He bathed her and then played with puzzles in the living room until her eyelids became heavy. After receiving her aid in picking up her toys, Howard carried Alyssa upstairs, settling her in her big girl bed and sitting on the floor beside it, storybook in his hand.

Before he could open the book to the story they had not yet finished, her big hazel eyes went to his and she muttered, “Dada?”

“What, baby girl?” he asked gently.

“Why Mother no love me?” she questioned.

Howard frowned, “Of course she loves you, Lyssa. She just—”

“But she say no, Dada,” she argued.

Sighing, he stashed her book back on her small white bookcase. His hands reached up and caressed her cheek softly as his mind searched for some way to explain it to her young mind. It could not be complex, telling her Emilie’s history would not really frame anything for her at all. He could not confirm that her mother did not love her, though he himself often wondered the same thing while lying awake in his bed in his bedroom while his wife slept in her bed in her room across the hall; doing so would be a travesty. But what could he say to her?

“You know how you love your little lamb?” he asked, noticing she was clutching her lamb stuffed animal, one she slept every night with.

Alyssa nodded.

“You know how you love your horsie?” he picked up the plastic toy nearby.

“But not like lambie,” she declared.

“Exactly. But you still love your horsie right?”

She nodded.

“Well your mother is kinda like that. She does love you.”

Her eyebrows knitted, “She say she not.”

“Do you tell your horsie you love it?”

She nodded, “All the times, Dada.”

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, “You’re a very good girl, Alyssa. I’m very proud of you.”

“But why not Mother?”

“I don’t know, sweetie,” he finally declared.

Able to get Alyssa to sleep not too terribly much later, Howard left her room, leaving her door cracked just enough for her to feel safe, and headed to find his wife. There was absolutely no excuse for her to tell their daughter that she did not love her. He did not care if it was true or not. The effects of such was disastrous and something he was certain she would hold onto for many years, no matter what he did in an attempt to counter it. And moreover it was un-Christian of her. If Emilie wanted to devote her life and devotion to her faith, that was fine, but not at the detriment of their daughter. Things were going to change right then and there.

“Emilie, we need to talk,” he declared, entering her sanctuary without even knocking. “I am fed up with you treating our daughter as if she was a diseased urchin on this planet. She’s your flesh and blood. You owe her a hell of a lot more respect and care than you give her, especially since she is in your care all day long. Can’t you see that you’re damaging that little angel?”

Her eyes looked over the top edge of her bible, “She is the spawn of sin. She is a blight in this world.”

Anger boiled in his veins and he wanted nothing more than to tear her bible from her hands and toss it in the garbage disposal. He understood she was devoted to her faith; they had both grown up immersed in it. Hell they would not have been married if it had not been from their shared religion, even if her faith was more than enough for a dozen people. He understood she was married to Christ, to God, to the Church. But it never should have been at the detriment of their daughter. In his mind, Alyssa symbolized all that was good about the world, all that could be good about the world. He saw heaven in her eyes, felt salvation in her giggles. A child such as her was innocent, pure, untouched. And that seemed to chafe his wife. He would not stand for it any more.

“If you will not care properly for our daughter, I will take her some place that will,” he proclaimed.

A slight glimmer of interest shined in her gray eyes, “And where would that be, husband?”

“She will begin preschool on Monday if I have to call the Pope and ask his indulgence in allowing her to enroll at Mary Magdalen,” he decided then and there. “I will take her to and from school. You are not to interact with her at all. I will not see you sully that child.”

She chuckled, an evil edge in her voice, “Fine by me. It is her who brings destruction. You will see. She is no angel at all.”



His eyes focused on the drying ink on the page. It was done. He was officially employed. Great. Now he could afford his part of the rent. Or his part of the beer groceries. Either or, but not both. Nodding to his new employer, as the seafood warehouse really hadn’t worked out, Chris stood and departed the restaurant. Lighting a cigarette as he departed, he glanced both ways down the foggy street, trying to decide which fate to embrace. As neither really seemed different, Chris turned left, heavy boots splashing in shallow puddles. He felt rather good about himself. Maybe today was the day to pull together a new band. He didn’t really mind drumming for band after band, but to be honest, they were wasting his talent. He knew he was the best drummer in the city of Seattle, maybe even King county, but he wanted more. He wanted the opportunity to write songs, to venture out from behind the kit like Ringo had. He wanted more.

Finding himself outside his apartment complex when his cigarette fizzled out, Chris smirked. He hadn’t intended on going home, but now he could tell his roommates he had a real job. It wouldn’t be a bad thing.

Climbing the single flight of stairs up to the three bedroom apartment, remarking to himself that their neighbors in all directions probably hated them, Chris fished out his keys. The door swung open as he touched the knob, but not because one of the jerks was on the other side. Rather to door had not been closed properly. It swung open with a creak, revealing an empty living room. A scowl instantly filled his visage and Chris entered the apartment. Strolling slowly from one room to the next, he found each one as empty as the first. Until he reached what had been his bedroom. His single bed stood stoically in the center of the room, his clothing and other belongings heaped upon it. The dresser that had once held such items was gone. It was just the bed and his personal belongings.

“Fuck,” he muttered, stalking over to the bed. “Fucking fuckers.”

Pulling out a cigarette, he stuck it between his lips and lit up. The day had completely gone to shit. What was he going to do now? He had bad roommates before, but this was an all-time low. This was worse than any previous flaky roommate. This was a really fucking bad situation. He had absolutely no one to turn to. He had some friends, some people he jammed with, but could he really consider any of them reliable enough to help him out?

Wait. Maybe his band mates. Well not the singer, he was a prick. But maybe the guitarist or the bassist. Somehow he thought that the bassist was the safer bet in this case, seemed a bit more solid. Yeah, he would call the bassist. He only hoped the phone hadn’t been cut yet.

Turning from his bedroom he headed back out into the living room. His eyes immediately flicked to the phone jack, hoping to find the tail of a phone still connected to it. Naturally he had no such luck at all. Striding out of the still open door, he fished around in his pocket for some change, trying to remember where the nearest pay phone was. Finding a quarter and recalling where the nearest dirty phone was, he skipped down the steps and headed out of the building towards the ubiquitous device. Within a few minutes he had talked Hiro into letting him move in, since he had a vacant room from a roommate moving out a few weeks before, and was well on his way to finding some sort of vague stability. Hiro wouldn’t fuck him over like his roommates just had, that was for sure. Things were looking up. He hoped.