Angel & Emma: Truth

[The Emma]

HANDLER NOTE: In lieu of This RP for Angel against Caitlyn Storm, I realise that now might be a good idea to delve properly into the story of the two girls. The following series of rps is the beginning of a story arc I had stared in 2009 (and still haven't finished for...a lot of reasons), which sets a lot of the groundwork. The rest will be covered in rps going forward.

The absolute basic thing that I MUST cover before you guys go on and read is that Emma and Angel once shared a body, just to give some context for the way these rps have been set out.Okay, I'm done waffling. Please enjoy, and you know where to find me if you have questions, critiques and such.

*******

(Off Camera)
 
Date: 23 June 2009
Location: Glasgow, Scotland

Italics - Emma
Bold - Angel
 
Emma had spent a lot of time going back to Glasgow over the last few months. Something hadn’t been right in her head and she was using every chance she had to go there and look through her things in everywhere that she had called home. Today and this week, the week leading up to EWC’s Violent Tendencies was no different. Everyone knew that for her and Eric Andrews it was going to be do or die. So any questions she had left, she needed to find the answers beforehand, or she would never get a chance.
 
Of course when you’re immortal and you don’t believe that a man can kill you no matter how hell bent on it he is, it’s kind of hard for that said man to do so. The joys of that.
 
Lately though, since Angel’s reappearance, she hadn’t done what she would normally do. This being getting Emma back on track and disappearing again. It wasn’t that Emma found this annoying. As much as Angel annoyed her sometimes, she loved her persona greatly, and considered her almost a sister, as was the nature of their relationship. They could be almost best friends or they could hate each other’s guts without trying too hard. Having had a sister in the past, Emma knew what this relationship was like, and in a way was still thankful that she did in having Angel.
 
Angel had always been jealous of Emma, but neither had any real idea why. Of course it might have had something to do with the fact that Emma had experienced many things that most people would like to have in their lives. Angel had no real concept of emotion, but part of her wanted to try and understand what it was like to cry tears of sadness, happiness, rage and joy. Part of her wanted to learn what it was like to contort her features and truly harness the elation that caused the Cheshire cat grin that crossed Emma’s lips often when she was with Katherine. She wanted to learn these things. It was sometimes said that Angel is devoid of such a thing, when the reality is that she was always the backburner for Emma that she never got a chance to learn even though she wanted to. But in her head, much like a protective older sister, would have sooner taken the backseat to watch the smiles as they formed on Emma’s face.
 
It was why she was so full of hate. It was the only emotion that she had ever understood. She was hateful for all the things that had ever made Emma so much as frown, or say to Angel that they had put her through hurt. The list began with her dad. Most recently, Christian Kincaid’s name had been added to that list. Ryan Mackenzie was the only man that Emma had ever been romantically involved with that was not on this list, as they had parted on good terms both times their relationship had failed, though it was safe to say Angel was not happy with him as their relationship ending had gotten to Emma a little. Eric? Of course he was on the list that could only be called bloodlust, he had put Emma through Hell, something that she could never stand for. Christian? He was there, as he had hurt her. The letters had caused Emma a lot of hurt, and a good amount of time crying, though never on the outside, meaning that Angel had been the controlling force of late, with the amount of time that she had spent with Katherine.
 
It genuinely was almost a sister’s relationship for them both. They looked out for one another as though they were sisters, although trapped in the same body, for what SHOULD have been only their lives, but their lives were now cast into the realms of immortality, thanks to Alexander McIntyre, to whom they owed their lives and were eternally grateful towards.
 
Northern Knightswood – better known to locals as High Knightswood, was where Emma was born. In the dead of the night, on a hill that overlooked much of the Northwest of the city, Angel was sat. She was sat on a memorial bench on Trinley Brae – better known to most as High Park. It wasn’t because it looked like a park either. A large green hill with a couple of pathways running through it could hardly be described as a park, could it? The most park-like thing about it was the fact that during the day on a hot day in the summer an untouched patch of the hill was a playing field for Frisbees, kids playing rugby on a hill. Angel had always wondered why you would want to play rugby on a hill, but it was known to happen round here, or couples or groups of friends lounging around on various parts of the hill.
 
Today was one of those days. It couldn’t have been any later than about five, as a cool breeze took away some of the late-June heat. If anyone ever says that Glasgow rains all the time then they are out and out liars. Angel, sat on the memorial bench, looked out towards the four blocks of high rise flats that were no more than a ten minute walk away, watching with slight amusement at the odd person that wandered onto their flat’s tiny veranda, who then looked out a bit, some smoked a cigarette, but all would walk back inside after only a few minutes maximum. In the same direction, a row of houses lined each side of the street. Looking to her right, her eyes fell immediately on a place that had caused Emma pain, and Angel snarled. Saint Ninian’s Primary School. The kids there – and often the teachers – thought Emma to be strange as she lacked social skills for the most part, unless it was to do with Valerie McFarlane, a redheaded girl in the year above her. Even then, Valerie had her own friends and it was understood that sometimes they would not be able to play together as they had maybe hoped, but Valerie had always been there at home, when Emma was upset about something.
 
Not far from there was a nursery school – or kindergarten. Whichever really. Angel let out another minor growl at this. They had treated Emma badly as well, as they had always given her funny looks for getting herself there without her parents, and then her sister later on. Again without parents. Angel sighed. It was life really. It was something that Emma had dealt with her whole life. At her new Primary school. Both of them, as Julie and Robert lived in a different catchments area to the one she had attended at the care home, which again had been different to the one where she had lived in the area she was in now.
 
Angel, can we just go now? You know how much I hate being here with you looking around.
 
We can. Now go back to sleep. You need it right now.
 
Emma didn’t fight this, and indeed did go back to sleep. Angel removed herself from the bench, leaving the part and walking down the hill that they both had walked up and down so many times recently.
 
There was no need for the kids that ran around after school was over, all of them shouting things at Angel.
 
“Here, I’d do you!”
 
“Oi, wannae nip ma pal?”
 
“GAWFF!”
 
The third was the most common. She did expect it though, being dressed in black. Granted, she wasn’t wearing MUCH, but she was wearing nothing but black, save the white and red skull that adorned her vest top, but that was beside the point. The kids were shallow and saw nothing good that could come from diversity. Not that she really cared. She knew the kids were yelling the innuendo comments, given the black denim shorts and knee-high rubber boots. Steel caps on the heels and toes at that. Meh, if they annoyed her enough, they’d feel the boots in the nether regions for their troubles.
 
It wasn’t just because she knew Emma was weak right now that she wanted her to sleep
 
Something had been bugging her for the longest time. Not to do with Emma, but with herself. She had heard countless times that there was always a reason that the other halves were selected for those whom they reached in their greatest times of need. This was no exception, or so she felt. All that they knew was that in Emma’s time of need, her time of dying almost, Angel had been sent to Emma to keep her alive, as she was needed by someone further down the line. By who and what for, neither were aware of just yet. Though perhaps it pertained to the family that had literally saved their lives only three months ago.
 
But that was all they knew. It wasn’t enough of a reason. It wasn’t good enough to be the ONLY reason. It couldn’t be. Emma was happy enough with this reasoning, but Angel was not. She wanted to know who she is, and felt that the only way she could ever find out would be to return to the house once more.
 
They always swore that they would never go back to the house when they left each time. Each time turned out to be another pretence though as every time they left, another mystery grew in their minds that could only be solved by returning to North Knightswood. Once again, the small house grew closer. The garden, rundown yet wildly unkempt as ivy grew wildly all over its walls, giving off a slight jungle effect. Then again, the entire layout of the house exterior gave that effect an always had done since their father had abandoned the house. She walked through the old wooden gate; its age was showing clearly, as was the fact that it had been a victim of the typical Glasgow weather. When it rained, it poured. When it was sunny, the sun was bright, hot and fierce as shit. When it was windy, very seldom did a breeze exist.
 
Angel didn’t touch the gate as she walked through, just to avoid the splinter. She did her best to avoid the menagerie of small bugs that littered the path. Reaching the door, she smiled s the remains lay there, from when Emma had kicked it down out of anger that it wouldn’t open a few months ago. She stepped through the wreckage. Well, what of it that hadn’t already been cleared away. She looked around; the surroundings even to this day were not totally old news to Angel. She had seen the walls and doors countless times, more often than not with someone tearing through them for one reason or another. Usually Susie with something going on with her nursery work: to see if their birth mother would stop being a lazy shit for long enough to help her daughter. It never worked. At least that they knew of anyway. Susie had told Emma on several occasions that Leigh MacNamara had never once made an attempt to help out. Susie had always been a very good liar, so like everything else that was said, Emma took it with a pretty big pinch of salt.
 
Stepping into the kitchen, she felt like she had stepped into a scene straight out of A Series of Unfortunate Events. A mouse ran across the tattered linoleum floor, and dishes lay in the sink, gathering mould. Then again, going by the look of them, if any more could get there, Angel would be impressed quite highly. The paint on the wooden cupboards was peeling, and you could see what looked suspiciously like some kind of bite in them. Didn’t help they were hanging from their hinges, literally at that. Cautiously, she pulled open the door and saw the damp. Good Lord, how ling had this house been deserted for? She looked at the old tin cans and plastic bottles of items with names that she did not recognise. She jumped half a mile when a mouse popped its head out of the corner. She wasn’t scared of them, far from it, but she sure as Hell hadn’t been expecting it. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch it, though she knew full well it would be a bad idea as it was wild. And Emma would find a way to free Angel from her and kill her if their chance at the Legendary Title was blown to bits because Angel got curious. Okay so that was exaggerating, but to say Emma would be FAR from pleased isn’t.
 
She closed the door and walked back out of the kitchen, almost tripping on the floor. It still felt like something out of a nineties bloody timewarp though. It always had done though, with its faded wallpaper in a typical 0s in your face style, which even despite the fading and a lot of it peeling off still looked okay. The floorboards creaked loudly with every step, made all the worse by the steel toe-cap boots she wore, as they were made from about half a tyre, and that was one shoe. Part of her actually considered wearing them to the ring. She knew Emma would love the idea.
 
I might talk to her about that…steel toe cap and half a tyre’s worth of solid rubber connecting with your jaw? Ohhh baby that sounds like an epic little night out. But that might just be me being biased. After all, the more pain the better.
 
Angel chuckled to herself as she walked slowly up the steps too the first floor of the house, running finer slowly over the banister, getting her finger covered in dust. She wiped her hand on her shorts, placing her hands in her pockets as she looked around the room, the continuing motif of 90s timewarp was still clear as day to anyone, even if they were deprived of their sight. The ladder t the attic was still there, untouched from the last time they had been in there with Katherine, back when Katherine found out about her. She ignored the ladder; the attic was of no use to her. Nothing she wanted or needed was there, and this had always been the case. The only time she ever remembered needing something from there was when she had lifted the penknife, to perhaps only use it on Eric Andrews in Hardcore War 5. But Eric had got to the gun first, so it was kind of redundant now, but the idea of carrying it around was still there. She didn’t though. It had been thrown into the Clyde the previous night. Nothing else better to do with it.
 
Angel ignored the fact that Emma’s parent’s bedroom had been disturbed since their last visit, as the wardrobe looked to be ransacked slightly and the room just looked a generalised mess. Which would never have happened before, and it hadn’t when she was here last. Either or, she ignored it, and found several items of interest in he drawer by the bed. It was a photo album, and a pouch that looked as though it had a couple of poly pockets in it, which she would look at later. Angel had no idea what to expect in this book, as she actually knew very little about Emma outside of their relationship.
 
But no matter what she had been expecting, she had not been expecting what she would find.
 
The first photograph consisted of a woman with two children, both of them with small tufts of raven hair, their eyes closed and sleeping peacefully in the woman’s arms. She recognised the woman as Emma’s mother, and the child on the left as Emma just after she was born. But the other? She didn’t know.
 
What on Earth? This isn’t right. Why are there two and why d they look similar?
 
Angel discarded that quickly as two babies born on the same day both with black hair, and the mothers thought it would be cute to take a picture of them together. But there was no picture of another woman. Angel flipped over the page to look again at the other pictures, and this time, only one baby was shown. The baby was tiny, clearly premature.
 
Name: Angelica
Weight: 3lbs 4oz.
Problem: 11 weeks premature.
 
The other name could not be seen, but why was there a picture of a girl called Angelica in this? The only girls in the family were Emma and Susie. Was it a cousin?
 
What have they been hiding? Hang on…Lucifer said once there was a secret that we would find out just as we would turn 20…
 
Angel trailed off her thought process; Emma was due to turn 20 in two days. She looked through the album a little more, the confusion spreading over her face as she continued to see the pictures. One caught her eye. The two girls were laid side by side, the girl on the left reaching out to the other. But the baby on the right wasn’t responding.
 
That kid was dead.
 
Angel felt a tear in her eye as she looked at the picture…she was experiencing sadness, but she had no idea why.
 
What was it Lucifer said?
 
Angel’s face contorted. Both? Both children, that was her assumption now, though she had no idea what it meant at the time, she guessed it was just Lucifer talking in riddles like he was good at. Then it hit her.
 
Emma had a twin.
 
If she had a twin…why was I sent t her? Angel, not Angelica…not unless…Emma always said that before I came along she felt like part of her was missing, and not in a romantic sense, she was too young to understand that part of her life yet. Like there was only half of her. Why…why did that change when I can along? Why does MY presence in her life change how she feels? I can’t be…I can’t be…
 
Angel shuddered, placing the book back on the bed, and picking up the folder. Sure enough, Emma’s suspicion was confirmed when she looked at the bits of paper. Two birth certificates. The first read Emma Leigh Janette MacNamara, born 25 June 1989, and the other reading Angelica Imogen MacNamara, also born 25 June 1989. The death certificate read for Angelica, the time of death only four hours after she was born. She began to feel for Emma, wondering what the pain of losing a sibling was like, though she would never know, as it had never happened to her and Emma was too young to understand it at the time anyway.
 
Lucifer said once that my name was not Angel, but I was called his Angel as I married him. What was it he said my name was? My middle name…Imogen. CRAP WHAT WAS IT?! And I should really not shout in case I wake up Emma. Urgh. What was it…
 
Angel closed her eyes briefly, as she wandered back to her times in Hell, the discussion before she left.

 
 
“Angel,” Lucifer took his wife’s hand, a small frown over his face.
 
“Yes, Lucifer?” She responded, taking his hand firmly and kissing her husband fiercely. He returned it, pulling her close to him.
 
“Be careful out there. You are going to a rough area of the city, though it is nothing in comparison to what goes on here.” Lucifer smirked while Angel laughed. Nothing was anything in comparison to the fights  that went on down there. Didn’t help that she got involved in them regularly, as much as Lucifer hated it. “There’s one other thing…”
 
“What is that my king?”
 
“Your name is not Angel. You actually share the same last name as the girl to whom I am sending you. Make sure that Emma does not see the light of death, she is an important feature in the years to come.”
 
“My king, I will make sure that Emma comes not to harm. You have my word.”
 
Lucifer smiled, kissing his wife’s forehead. “Then go. Stay safe and pray to me, Angelica Imogen…”

 
 
MacNamara…
 
Breathing somewhat heavily, Angel leaned forward. That was the link. That was why. Why Angel had been sent. She could feel Emma stirring from her sleep and cursed to herself. She was going t have to say something now.
 
Not that she would get a chance to. Her eyes were still closed, so she could not see the shadow approach her. Before she knew what was happening, she was thrown backwards against a man’s chest with something wrapped tightly around her mouth. The more she struggled, the faster it worked, and soon, she was passed out in the man’s arms. The last thing  she saw was an image of who it was.
 
Long, greasy black hair and demented looking, evil blue eyes.
 
Phillip MacNamara.

[The Emma]

(Off Camera)
 
Dear Miss Belmont,
 
You do not know me, and I do not know you. In case you have not yet noticed, this is not who you believe it to be, far from it. But this email does pertain to her.
 
Have you seen her? Have you seen her recently? Do you love her like you claim to? Do you REALLY want her to live?
 
Come and find her. Come an find your precious “sister” or your she will have fallen before the show goes live.
 
No? You haven’t left now? Oh dear.
 
Katherine, are you really her friend? Are you really the big sister that you have always claimed to be? Are you REALLY everything that you want to be with her? I didn’t think so. I never did guess just what you are. You are really nothing but selfish aren’t you? Do you respect Emma for what she has put up with? Is that your reasoning for having read this email as far? That you perhaps believe that she can get herself out of this like she has so many times before?

Please don’t be so delusional.
 
You won’t get to see her win that platinum belt. You won’t get to see her on Sunday as she gives you a hug before her match, by the time the main event rolls around, wishing her and your brother, Liam, who she has a crush on, from what my sources have told me, and yet she must be in that match with him. Not as his ally, but as his enemy. I am sure you know this already. You will not be able to wish them both the best of luck for their match and that you are rooting for them both. You cannot do this now, Katherine.
 
Emma will not be your maid of honour, as you have no doubt asked her to be when you finally tie the knot with Jacob Stryfe, and take on his name at long last. You cannot do that. She cannot stand there with tears in her eyes and a happy grin upon her face as you proclaim to words that ensure that you get to spend eternity with the one you love. You will have no maid of honour.
 
You will have no sister.
 
Because by the time you find her…your sister will have fallen.
 
I won’t tell you my name, but now you have my closing. Have a nice little time before your wedding, Miss Belmont.
 
***
 
Emma watched in horror as her captor typed the words into the keyboard without so much as blinking at the screen. He didn’t move to look around at the terrified girl that sat bound to a chair just to his right. Emma knew better than to scream. Not that she could through the ball gag. She knew better than to cry, even through the pain that was being caused by the way that the gag was digging into her mouth, causing her to bleed slightly, and the fact that the ball was choking her. She knew better than to try and move, but it wasn’t like she could.
 
She was lying down as the chair she had been tied to had been knocked over, with quite some force at that. With tired eyes she looked up at the computer screen as he typed. The back of the chair was cutting off the circulation to her arms, and what little blood was getting through was being cut off to her hands by the plastic binds that were wrapped around her hands as though around the cardboard boxes they were designed for. She knew she couldn’t do a thing.
 
She didn’t know how long it had been, the room had been pitch black through the World War 2-esque blackout curtains, and still those curtains were shut when her captor came into the room, either to check on her or to make use of the computer as though she were not there. She knew he had done it several times already, and her sense of time being left for dead now, she thought she had missed her flight back out, though this turned out not to be the case as he watched him talk about the show in his e-mail to Katherine. It didn’t help matters that the more she looked, the more she could see that tit was being typed to Katherine through Emma’s email so that he would not get caught.
 
Part of her wanted to cough violently, she was running steadfastly out of air as it lingered in her mouth, looking for the traditional escape path from her month only to find that it could not escape that way, and had to leave through her nose. If the bastard were lucky this would kill her in a very slow and painful process. Not that she never partially wished she were dead right now. It would be better than suffering like this. It felt like a much crueller version of her childhood. Only crueller as he had never once left her like this before. Never onc had he just sat there with her around, doing whatever it was he wanted to do and let her look on in a despairing hope, part of her hoping that Katherine would get the email sooner rather than later and help her out of this.
 
But if she did that, she would lose her life. Phillip would be KOS on anyone that came to help Emma, and for that, should it happen to Katherine, Emma would never once forgive herself. Part of her wondered that if she made it to the pay per view, would she have to go through all this in her match? She hadn’t gone through torture in hardcore war, death by degrees, Satan’s Sanctuary, Hell in a Cell, all the cage matches. Never. This was new. But that was a physical pain, not a physiological, emotional, mental torture, though it did have its physical elements thrown in as well, that she would not deny.
 
He got up and looked at her, a sickeningly sweet smile was plastered on his lips. He leaned in far too close to her as he removed the ball gag  from her mouth. She knew what he wanted, and she had no choice but to let him do whatever he liked. He reached down, his long, greasy hair brushed against her cheek as he licked her ear. She wriggled away out of instinct.
 
He’s disgusting, considering who he is.
 
Emma would have normally rolled her eyes at this, even despite her agreement with Angel over it, though he did not know about her other half, so refrained from, just like she had as a child. She bit her lip, as though expecting him to do something else, only to fin that he pulled the chair upright. For the first time in what felt like eternity, blood began to flow normally. Well, almost normally, as she still had her hands tied. Either or, the feeling of her blood gushing through her veins was enough of a release right now.
 
“You look happy that this is circling through your veins, my dear,” He whispered. “I’ll let your hands go.” He did as he said he would, half expecting Emma to swing at him, She didn’t. She knew better than that. “Good girl, I see you still remember never to hit your master—sorry, I mean, never to hit your father.”
 
Emma made no movement, other than scowl at the word “father”. This man was no father to her, lest we get biological about anything. She wanted more than anything to scream this out, tell him exactly what she though of him, though she wasn’t stupid enough to do so. Even she knew that, she longed to tell her father he was every profane name under the sun. Not that what she thought of him would mean anything to him.
 
“You know Emma, it’s kinda sad how you won’t hit me, or you won’t lash out. You spend so much time in front of the cameras telling your opponents how you are better than them, how they are nothing compared tp you and I admire how you verbally shred them to bits, and yet when you are asked to do it of your own accord, you cannot lift a hand, you cannot state your feelings verbally. Everything you are is an act, Emma, isn’t it? Everything that you claim to be, it’s not really anything is it? You do it for the fame and the fortune; you couldn’t do it on the street. That’s such a shame. Miss Lucifer’s Angel. It’s all an act is it not? You’re such a little actress. Then again, you always were and you DID learn from the best. That means me by the way.” Emma was somehow managing to restrain both her own anger and Angel escaping to cause some damage at the same time. Not that much damage could actually be caused as she was still tied to the chair by her legs, which her father seemed quite glad about.
 
“You won’t make Death’s Door, Emma. You won’t get to stand in the ring with Liam and Simon like you so dearly long to. You won’t win that little platinum belt…like you so dearly, dearly want to. You won’t amount to ANY of the things that you want to amount to, Emma. You are worth none of it and that is the God’s honest truth.”
 
It’s Lucifer’s honest truth that if he’s not careful I WILL break out Emma, and you won’t be able to hold me back.
 
Emma didn’t respond to either her father or Angel. Neither made a comment that she felt like responding to. Her father was doing this to antagonise her and it was working, and Angel was just being Angel. Phillip MacNamara dropped to one knee, and undid the binds on her legs, running a hand slowly up towards her as he did. Closing her eyes tightly, Emma bit her lip. She knew this was wrong but part of her liked it. He did it with her other leg, and she repeated her own actions. She hated this; she wasn’t going to lie about it. Not that Angel would let her lie about it anyway. “Stand.”
 
She did as she was asked, though nervously. When she was on her feet, her father took a fistful of her hair and threw her back into it, cracking her back off the wooden back of the chair and tumbling to a heap on the floor. Her face screwed up in pain, though he couldn’t see it, thankfully. Phillip grabbed her shoulder and pulled her hard onto her back, and her head lolled violently in that direction. Her skull lifted off the floor slightly causing her temple to hit with some force of the laminate floor. Phillip smirked at this, apparently still getting the same kick out of abusing her that he did over ten years ago.
 
“You’ll end up just like your precious little spastic of a brother, did you know that? You’ll end  up six feet under, where the only way people will be  able to talk to you is if they see you in their dreams. Do you dream about David, Emma? Do you miss him? Do you still wish my blood on your hands as his is on mine? I know you do Emma. Emma…tell me something, what are you?”
 
those were words that she had not heard in a long, long time. She knew what her well rehearsed answer to this would be, not that she really wanted to say it, and Angel was begging her not  to.
 
“What are you, Emma? Do you belong here or does your destiny lie somewhere else? Does it lie in the hands of that little bitch of a woman that you call a best friend? Does it lie with her brother? Do you hold so much as a SHOELACE to either of them Emma? Well? What the fuck are you?!”
 
“A mistake…” Emma’s voice was a coarse whisper. His words stung, they always did. He was the only persn that had ever successfully gotten into her head by degrading her. Eric hadn’t. The fact that she got over Eric the second she had run him over during their first match together spoke volumes. It’s pretty easy to get into someone’s head when the person is in love with you. The difference here was that most of the words spoken were out of business, his were out of nothing but hate.
 
“That’s right. It was your fault she died, it was your fault the weaker one died. You are the very fucking REASON that she is dead! You know what that makes you Emma? Do you KNOW WHAT THAT FUCKING MAKES YOU?!”
 
Emma knew who he was referring to. Her mother, who had committed suicide just after the kids had been taken into care. “I did NOT kill mum! She killed herself because you got us taken away!”
 
Phillip’s eyes screed shut, trying not to lose the rag, which Emma would admit seemed a bit odd, as normally he wouldn’t care. “She died because there was no one around. We stuck together for you, Susie and David. You in your stupid little delusions cannot see that!”
 
“I fail to see how she give a shit about us, when from the second I could hand-eye coordinate I was dong everything. Her outright laziness jeopardised everything in my life until we were taken away. It did the same to THEIR lives as well. When did my mother ever lay a finger to bathe, change, clothe or feed him? When did she do that for Susie? FUCKING NEVER THAT’S WHEN!” Emma couldn’t believe she’d done that.
 
“You know what, you’re right. We never did a thing for any of you. That’s why Susie came back to me. That’s why Susie is happy with me. And that is why you will be too. Because everything will be back to normal. You’ll not be going back to America to work with your friends and colleagues. You won’t be going back to see your best friend marry. You won’t so any of the things that you wanted to do this week. You’ll NEVER do them Emma. End of discussion.” With that, Phillip opened the curtain slightly to reveal the sun shining brightly, and bolted the window shut, tucking the key into his pocket. He pulled the laptop charger out of its socket and the smaller end from the computer itself. He surveyed the room and nodded, seeing that all was well until Emma, still on the floor, and his face curled in disgust. He took a fistful of Emma’s hair and brought her up, picking her up off the ground so that she was eye level with him. “I always keep my promises, Emma…”
 
She wasn’t stupid, she knew what that meant. It always, ALWAYS meant something that was going to send her into yet another tailspin was coming her way. He sat her back in the chair and looked her dead in the eye, taking her right arm – about halfway up her upper arm – and locking it in a vicegrip. From there, he reached into his other pocket and pulled out a small syringe, no more than half an inch long. Seeing the vein, he plunged the syringe into her without thinking twice. Emma bit her lip from the shock and pain, but quickly relaxed as she felt the familiar sensation run through her. But he kept going, until she was a passed out bundle on the chair.
 
There were two things that she never saw. One of these was a line in the e-mail, pertaining to when her father had mentioned Liam.
 
She doesn’t mind you telling him that  she loves him.
 
The other was a small bag beside where the laptop had been.
 
“Heroin.”

[The Emma]

(Off Camera)
 
Eyes slowly flickered open, and the first thing that Emma was greeted with was the dull, aching pain that was coursing through her body from her father’s abusive methods. And a craving. She didn’t know what it was of, but whatever it was she had been injected with; she wanted more of it. Badly. Her bounds had been undone, giving her freedom to move. Getting up to her feet willingly for the fist time if who knows how long, Emma walked over to the small bedside table, and smiled when she saw a deck of ten Mayfair Superkings. Opening the packet, she kept smiling whe she saw it was about full. The way it was when they had been bought originally, when Angel had taken over the body. Angel was still out and part of her was thankful for that, though part of her still wanted her other half to be awake, just to make things easier. Right now, she needed a fix of whatever that was, and she needed it badly.
 
It was then than she saw the bag on the table. When she read what it was, she shook her head violently, not wanting to believe her father had got her hooked again on a nigh on overdose. And yet, she wanted to use it. She wanted to feel it coursing through her like the parasitic virus that was Alex McIntyre’s blood. Part of her wanted to feel it again, the sweet release that it brought, taking everything that she worried about and absolving them. It was why she took the drug in the first place. She didn’t want to deal with her problems but dhe refused to let Angel take control, thus turning too drugs. What she didn’t know was that her friend, who had been a dealer, dealt in heroin when she had been told it wasn’t. she had him out of her life now. Her trip abroad to get clean did that. Though she knew full well she could never go back to Kelvingrove park. F he saw her, she would be dead an THAT wasn’t something worth dying over.
 
She reached out to take the packet, hoping there were a couple of syringes around, if not rolling paper and tobacco to make a joint. Either would do. Her fingers began to wrap around the plastic bag, only for her to be interrupted by Angel’s dark, stern word.
 
No.
 
Angel, he’s done it to us again, turned us t this sweet little thing that we once depended on to make it through the day. Unless you want to suffer the same as I will should we have to go cold turkey, you will let me take what I have to take.
 
You are not taking it Emma. It will affect everything that you do. It will affect your ability in the ring; it will affect everything that you do. It would even affect your friendships and any interests in anything else. Think about this Emma.
 
Emma didn’t want to think about it. She wanted to snatch it up and take it all there and then. But she knew better. Angel was right, this would only be a road to disaster if she gave in to temptation.
 
Remember Emma, I was sent to you to stop you making stupid choices that could be fatal. Not to let you fall to temptation.
 
You care? Doesn’t the Lord’s Prayer read “lead us not into temptation, and deliver us from evil”? Wasn’t that always taken to mean that we should be lead astray from the tempting path that Lucifer sets up?
 
Yes Emma, it does mean that. But even Lucifer does not approve of those who take recreational drugs just to get a high or to deal with all their problems. That is why I was sent to you in the first place. He views you as a strong willed child, though slow to come to realise hiw much you can do alone. He was right about this. You must NOT take this route.
 
Why do you give so much of a shit Angel? You were always immortal, you will be sent back to Hell one day anyway. Why does it matter so much to you?
 
I cannot go back to whence I came because you are not dead. Lest you be killed or someone finds a way to get me out of your body, with your immortality, I will always be here. I will always be the annoying sister to you, that will always be there when you need me.
 
The sister comment caught Emma well off guard. While it was always a thought that the two had shared, it was never something that either had ever out and out said to one another. She sighed, she wasn’t going to win and she knew it. Bt she also knew that to just give up like this was dangerous on a stupid level. She retracted her hand from the bag and walked away, but not out of choice, Angel was forcing her to. She didn’t want any of what was gong on. She didn’t want to be her father’s prisoner again. She didn’t want to be a prisoner in the two realms that she had been held in before. A world of dependence on heroin and the captivity of her father, where both would be theirs to abuse as they saw fit, in either the physical deeds that her father did or the mental torture of craving the next fix. She pulled the curtain open a little, looking out and into the moon. It was late, she knew that much. She didn’t know the date, she just knew that no matter what, this was where she was stuck. She would be stuck here and here alone. There wasn’t any escape. As far as she knew, Susie wasn’t even around. As far as she cared, Susie was dead, like their brother, foster parents and their maternal mother. Difference was, it was Susie and Leigh MacNamara that Emma could not honestly give a damn about. Not that you could blame her when you have the whole “she clearly never gave a damn” thing going on.
 
She hadn’t noticed, but her eyes had been streaming for the past few minutes, out of pain, anger and sadness. It saddened her that all this was happening, and happening now. Right when she didn’t need it. The last thing she could focus on was her match at the weakened and why should she? Why should she worry about that when she was suddenly trying to kick heroin again, and trying to figure out a way to get away from her father’s abusive clutches.
 
She never heard the door open as she was rummaging the room for her phone. The door clicked shut, and she looked up out of nothing but shock. There, stood before her, was the seventeen-year-old version of herself. Thick black hair, sitting around her shoulders in perfect ringlets an bright blue eyes, though she was definitely a lot more plain than Emma, dressed in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, though granted the top did read “You Me At Six”, even if it did cause Emma to scowl. Susie rolled her eyes at her older sister, knowing what she was looking for and tossed the phone at her.
 
“Emma, get out of here.”
 
“Why do you care? You’re the one that came back to him after I spent so long trying to get you out of harm’s way, and now you want to help me after you turned you back on us after David died?”
 
“Emma, I did not come to dad out of choice. I was forced to after Robert was taken into the home. Where else was I meant to go? Charlotte? She doesn’t have the room, and she still doesn’t. I have to stay here, Emma.”

”No you don’t,”Emma snapped quietly, so as not to waken their father.“Come on the road with me, you’ll be okay. I promise.”
 
“I can’t. I’m not supposed t be here. You stay here and you’ll kill him, then we have nowhere to go. Just go Emma. Your match is in 36 hours.”
 
“A day and a half? Oh fuck you’ve gotta be kidding!”Emma sat down on the floor, that wasn’t what she needed to hear right now.“And you do have somewhere to go. Robert and Julie had the house paid for before they died, and they had always said if they died before I turned eighteen we could get it then. I own the house, Susie. Go there. You’ll be safe there.”
 
“He knows where that house is.”

”He’s stupid enough to think you came on the road with me. Please Susie, get yourself out of here, like I am getting out of here.”
 
“Emma…I can’t.”
 
Emma sighed, slightly annoyed now. She knew she likely wasn’t going to get this over and done with in the next ten minutes or so. Knowing their luck their father would waken and hear everything. And then they would be fucked, and that was not a good thing. Emma took her key out of her pocket and tossed it to Susie.“For once in your life Susie, listen to me. If you won’t come out on the road with me, then you’re damn well getting out of this house whether you like it or not.”
 
Susie sighed, nodding, finally conceding defeat as she caught the keys in her hand. Barely, but she caught them.“I know where your things are. I know what dad did with them.”
 
Emma nodded.“Where is dad’s room?”
 
“Last door on the left. Why?”
 
Emma never answered as she got to her feet and walked out of the room. She made a quick pit stop at the bathroom; smiling to find the medical gloves that her father had always kept when she was a child, always when he abused her, so not to leave fingerprints. She crept towards his room and pushed the door open, to see his naked form sprawled out on the bed. She grimaced at it, and when she did, Angel took over, as Emma no longer wanted to deal with this. She didn’t have this in her heart.
 
Do you have everything that we need?
 
Yes. Well, I think we do. I don’t actually know what you’re going to do
 
Angel smiled, and her smile quickly turned cruel and sadistic as she walked silently over to Phillip. When she was there, she withdrew the penknife from her pocket. He stirred slightly, but she seemed unfazed, almost knowing that he wouldn’t waken, which he didn’t. Slowly, she slide the knife over his throat, quickly pulling out a small plastic bottle from the drawer and catching some of the blood in it.
 
I see we have the blood of a sinner then.
 
Emma let the blood drip into the bottle from the knife, before surveying Phillip’s naked form.
 
You aren’t thinking what I think you are, are you Angel?
 
What? He did nothing to deserve what he would call his jewels…
 
Emma would have squirmed if she could as Angel drew the knife slowly down his body, breaking the skin all the way do to the top of his pelvic bone. She lifted the knife and with her smile turning more cruel and sadistic, she drew two diagonal lines, matting just past where the other line had finished. She continued to trail the knife down, only enough to leave a scratch mark, and without any warning of the sort, brought the knife down on him like an executioner brings down an axe on who he has to behead, chopping off all his gentilia at once. Emma again, would have squirmed, had she had a body to use for it, as Angel looked at her handiwork with a smile on her face. Apparently, she was quite happy with what she had just done. She let the blood pour into the bottle again, satisfied that it was full. It was at that moment Susie walked back in. Angel looked around, seeing Susie’s face, but showed no emotion.
 
“I was just doing what was right. That way he can’t find us.”Angel did a remarkable Emma impression, placing the knife in her jeans again but not before wiping the blood off it. She would sterilise it later.“Guess I should finish the job…”
 
With that, Angel reached into her other back pocket and beckoned Emma to takeover.
 
Tell her that it’s in her best interests. That she needs to die so that not a word is said. Or at least words to that effect.
 
Emma didn’t want to, but Angel egged her on. Eventually, the gun was removed form her pocket as Emma gave the speech, walking up to her and in one swift movement, there was a hole in Susie’s forehead. Emma was due t go back to the states in a few hours, she wouldn’t get caught. Not if she took the bullet and the shell anyway. She was smart like that. Besides, Angel had taken over again, she’d keep tem as a trophy or something, add them to the necklace that Emma had made out of the bullets and their cases that had killed David in August.
 
What’s wrong Emma? Don’t like the idea of knowing that you are capable of murder?
 
No, I don’t like the idea of being forced into killing my sister ar YOUR will. You wanted her dead, why didn’t you do it?
 
Because it was you that she hurt, Emma. I Won’t fight your battles for you.
 
Guess what? You’re going to have to from now on. I don’t want to face the light of day anymore. I can’t live with myself for what I’ve done. Angel…don’t tell Katherine what we’ve done this night…
 
With that, Emma fell silent, and no matter what Angel said, she could not get Emma to respond. It was like all those times in the past. Only this time, the roles were reversed.
 
It was the takeover.
 
If Emma wanted not to be involved anymore, then she would do it herself. The only people that would know would be those that would need to know.
 
It will always be Emma MacNamara, but now, she really was Lucifer’s Angel. And she really did rise from Hell to tear souls apart, one, be one.

**
 
“Lucifer…” Angel looked around the fiery pit, shocked that she had been brought back.
 
“Angel, I cannot keep you here long, as Emma has surrendered the body to you. She will not return anytime soon as I am sure you have gathered by now.” Lucifer brought his wife into a hug, which she returned.
 
“I am aware of this my king, I know that she will not return as of yet.”
 
“She will not return until the whole truth with her is known. This does not include your sisterhood, the reason I sent you to her. The real reason. Yes I lied to you about that. I know and I apologise. Angel, I need to you listen to me. There is only one who can help you with this, being her back. You should not be in control of the body, that is Emma’s place.”
 
“I can’t bring her back so what do I do?” Angel, for the first time maybe ever, sounded slightly desperate. Lucifer was telling her nothing new. But she still had not idea what to do and she far from liked it.
 
“There is only one that can bring her back. You are in the main event with him. I know not which one it is, but it will be figured out in time.”
 
Angel nodded, understanding his words. It was then the shockwave ran through her again,  and she fond herself back in the room
 
**
 
“I cannot worry about getting Emma back right now. I have a match to win…”