Categories > Movies > Breakfast Club

On Angel's Wings

by TWBasketCase 1 review

During the worst period of her life, Allison meets her guardian angel. One Shot.

Category: Breakfast Club - Rating: R - Genres: Angst - Warnings: [?] [V] - Published: 2007-01-07 - Updated: 2007-01-07 - 3804 words - Complete

Disclaimer: I do not own the Breakfast Club
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Not many people know what it's like to truly be alone in their lives.

She spent day after day and night after night alone on her windowsill watching the world go by. Everyday there were people rushing through the sidewalks trying to make it to work on time. Some people walked their dogs early in the morning, while others brought their children to school. The world was such a busy place that it wasn't very often that someone would stop and see all the lonely people.

But they were there, dreaming of something more day after day. Some of them, like Allison, didn't even have a dog to walk to keep her busy. She was alone, just like she had been for most of her life.

Born to young parents, she never had much growing up. Her parents had been mere teenagers when they had given birth to her, and were not even old enough to start college. Her mother had dropped out of high school, while her father took a factory job right after his graduation. They worked hard for her, but there were serious consequences for their actions.

Her father was never able to obtain the engineering job that he had so badly wanted, and her mother suffered from a severe case of postpartum depression as a result of Allison being very sick after her birth, their low income, and her unwanted rush into a family.

Things were tough as a young child.

She never did have any siblings. She grew up in a cold and quiet apartment in downtown Chicago. When she was seven, she was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia - a common type of blood cancer in children. She was given a 25-45 percent chance of survival. Her mother had to take up two jobs, while her father continued to do long hours of overtime at the factory. With her parents working all of the time to pay for her hospital bills, she spent a lot of time in the hospital alone by herself.

Her cancer had gone into remission when she was nine. She had gone through months of extensive chemotherapy, radiation therapy, and even two bone marrow transplants. They were long and painful months in the hospital; sometimes, there was even weeks that she had spent doing nothing more than crying because the pain was so intense. She had many injections done, as well as many x-rays, MRI's, CAT scans, and blood testing. It was very scary because she could remember bleeding a lot...being unable to control blood flows and common colds. She also lost all of her hair.

She was finally able to go to school after she had gotten out of the hospital, but fitting in was very hard for her. She had very little hair and she was extremely underweight. She was never allowed to participate in physical education, or share her snacks with the other children - in fear that she could contact germs that her body could not fight off.

She was quite often the subject of ridicule and teasing.

Allison ended up spending a lot of time reading and drawing. Her parents were still working long hours to pay off the hospital bills and medication, and she didn't have many friends to share her time with, so she had learned to fend for herself.

Her survival techniques had definitely paid off as she grew older.

Her parents died in a car accident when she was thirteen. Once again, Allison had looked death in face and beat him. She was the girl who just could not die. They wanted to take her out for ice cream to celebrate four years of being cancer free. It was a rare night when both her mother and father had taken a night off of work to be with her.

Unfortunately, a rather sloppy young man had also decided to down a twenty four pack of beer and get into his truck the same night.

The truck had hit them head on, crushing both of her parents' lower halves in the process. Her mother's face had been lodged through the windshield, and her father died of a shattered rib cage as a result from hitting the steering wheel. All the bone fragments had pierced his lungs and arteries, leaving him to die a slow and painful death.

Allison made it out with a severe concussion, a dislocated shoulder, and a large contusion on her forehead. She spent two nights in the hospital and was released to Children's Aid. And once again, she was left to fend for herself.

She was placed into social services for the remainder of her childhood. She had bounced around from foster home to foster home in the process, never quite being able to find a place to call home. Some of the people that she had met were very nice, and very eager to help her. Most of those people were the social workers that came to check up on her, two more were fellow orphans, and the last was one foster mom.

Things were hard when she was fifteen years old. Her cancer had come back, and once again she spent just over a year in the hospital following another bone marrow transplant. She was incredibly sick, and once again incredibly alone. She had to live in a sterile environment, which really limited the amount of visitors that were available to her. So those people who she had come to trust had no choice but keep their distance.

So she held through by herself, and that time, she almost didn't make it.

The doctors had told her that the second time cancer comes; the patient is at a 50 percent higher risk of not surviving than a first time patient. However, she received more re-induced chemotherapy treatments, as well as a few blood transfusions.

To beat the disease that time was hell, and she was lucky to be alive.

Once she was eighteen, children's services got her onto a welfare plan with the government and sent her out on her own. She was able to afford the rent of a filthy bachelor apartment in a rat infested building in the south end of the city. She had been living in the same place for the last seven years, and still she was incredibly alone.

She had become cold and tired over the years. Unable to trust and socialize with others, she had a hard time holding down any sort of job and resorted to thieving and petty theft to feed herself. Sadly, because of the state of the welfare system and her lack of family and funds, she was unable to afford her pills for her follow-up therapy.

She was at rock bottom and she hated her life.

She stepped up onto the cold concrete ledge and stared down at the street that she had watched so many times before. That night was extremely cold and the wind was high, making her legs shake as she struggled to hold herself upright. There were people down on the sidewalk who were watching her as well; people who were pointing and calling up to her as if to get her attention.

In the distance, sirens were heard, getting increasingly louder as they approached. To her, the world beneath her was now miles away. So detached was she to the rest of the world that she no longer looked at it as if it were the same reality in which she lived. She was now above the rest of the world; staring down with the wind kicking at her long brown hair as though she was watching them from heaven.

A silent, lonely angel from heaven.

She wondered if the people down on the ground thought that she looked anything like an angel. She wore nothing else but a sleeveless, knee length, white night gown and her hair surrounded her head like a halo. She felt free and happy in the cold night air; did she look as heavenly as she felt?

She didn't think so. Never in her life did anyone ever tell her that she was heavenly or angelic. Nor did anyone ever even stop to tell her that she was pretty...or that she was lucky...or that she was special at all. People just didn't look at her that way.

She was one of those lonely people...Eleanor Rigby.

She looked back down at her feet, at the small ledge that kept her from falling to her death. The figures of people seventeen floors below her could be heard gasping and shouting from where she stood. She stuck one foot out into the air - over the ledge - and balanced herself onto one leg. She wondered if all those people down there would cry for her if she fell to her death. Would they stop and wonder why she was sad enough to do it?

She brought her foot back down to the edge and stretched her arms up into the air. The wind picked up and licked at the bottom of her gown, causing it to thrash around her thighs. She stared up into the night sky - just as she heard the door to the roof crash open - and screamed into the night. "Take me to a better place!"

And with that, she jumped. She heard a loud scream behind her - one of which belonged to a man. The piercing air rushed to her face, and she closed her eyes as she began to fall. She could remember seeing her parents' faces as she awaited death; their faces after coming home from a long job - jobs that they worked in order to pay for her meds. She could see the faces of the children at school when she vomited all over her desk - not being able to control her body when she had come into contact with a flu virus. She remembered the face of her foster mother, telling her that her life was worth living, and that she should not give up on her cancer treatment. Then she remembered the face of the police officer who had risked his life to save her own.

The police officer?

She looked up as her body came to a jerking halt. There was a man clad in a black uniform holding onto her arms. He had a pained expression on his face as he tried desperately to keep his hold on her.

"Who the fuck are you!?" She yelled angrily. How dare he!

"I'm Officer Clark..." He said through clenched teeth. "I'm here to help you!"

"Then help me by letting me go!" Allison pleaded. She could feel her feet dangling helplessly through the air; the citizens below her probably getting an excellent view of her female organs. She suddenly was paralyzed with fear, and grabbed Andrew's sleeves.

"I'll get you...I'll get you," He repeated as he pulled her up towards him. She had no idea where he had come from, or why he was trying so hard to help her. In all of her past experiences with police officers, she hadn't ever really met one that was overly nice.

He pulled her up high enough for him to snag an arm around her waist and lift her back over the edge. Her breathing had intensified, and she finally felt herself breaking down with tears. She collapsed hard to the ground and buried her face into her hands.

She wasn't quite sure how she felt. She didn't know if she was crying for herself - because of the fact that she wanted to die, or the fact that she very well could have. Allison wasn't quite sure if she was happy whether her hero officer had prevented her from splattering on the pavement below, or if she was fighting tears of frustration due to the fact. She was once again lost and confused, and didn't know what else to do besides let the tears fall.

She felt an arm snake over her shoulders. "Ssh," His voice cooed. "It's alright, you're okay."

"No, I'm not," She screamed angrily. "I'm not!"

He lifted her up gently into his arms and began to walk back towards the warmth of the apartment building. She had no idea where the man was taking her; the only thing that she knew was that she was tired of fighting...she didn't fight him.

... ... ...

Andrew Clark had seen a lot in his time on the force. He had seen people get murdered right before his very eyes, as well as other horrible fates such as car accidents, drug overdoses, and domestic disputes. The job wasn't exactly a fun one, but he loved what he did even though it had somewhat desensitized him.

People who attempted suicide were usually a burden to him. It angered him more than anything that someone would be cowardly enough to take the easy way out. Suicidal people were quitters in his opinion. It would be fair to say that he - and his partner - had no patience whatsoever for jumpers - and other risk takers - and had in the past given up on them completely.

That night had been completely different for him. It was his first night back on the job since his wife had died. He had taken an entire month off for grievance just trying to get his head on straight. For awhile, he wasn't sure if he would ever return back to the job, but at the same time, work was all he had left.

She had commit suicide and left him alone.

He had no idea that she was sick in the head. She was suffering from some sort of stress and anxiety disorder - at least that was what her doctor had told him. She had left him a note on his dresser and explained that she just couldn't deal with her life anymore...that for some reason she was extremely unhappy. He would obviously never know all of the details, but one thing was for certain was he would never forgive himself for not saving her and preventing the whole mess in the first place.

He was a cop; it was his job to help people, and it totally killed him that he couldn't help the one person who needed him the most.

His month off of the force made him reevaluate his life and his opinions. He knew that his wife wasn't someone who was a good for nothing piece of shit who deserved to die if she so badly wanted to. During those weeks off it had made him realize that maybe if he would have tried a bit harder with some of the suicide victims that he had met in the past, he may have been able to help them.

That time away from work also made him realize just how much he was not used to - not only spending time by himself - but being away from work altogether. In his seven years on the force, he hadn't as much as taken a vacation or a weekend off. He probably only called in sick once, and that was due to a major case of food poisoning obtained by a burrito from Taco Bell. It was safe to say that he was a man completely devoted to his job, and he didn't have much of a life outside of it.

All he had was his wife.

The only person who had come to check up on him while he was gone had been his partner. He was probably the only person who really understood him anyway. There had never been a point in his life where he felt so alone. He wasn't sure which direction his life was going to take from that point on. So the only thing that he could think to do was return to work and get on with his life as though he were moving on.

It only figured his first call had to be a suicidal brunette, who eerily had to have been the same age as his deceased wife. When they arrived on the scene, his instinct had taken over and he directed his partner to crowd control, and rushed up the stairs to sort the problem out himself.

His ever strong hero complex would never allow him to lose another one on his watch - even though he knew that the majority of his attempts would be futile. He didn't even remember those seconds when she had began to fall forward until the point where he had caught her. He wasn't quite sure how he had managed to gather the strength and speed that he had to even race her in the first place.

To say it was a miracle would be an understatement.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he was met with the angry face of his partner. He pulled the door open for him, and immediately began to glare at Andy. "What the fuck do you think you were doing? Are you off you're fuckin' block, Clark? I swear if you ever put me on fuckin' crowd control again I will knock your dick into next week!"

"John!" Andrew yelled at his messy haired partner. "I got her, okay? That's what counts." Andrew approached their cruiser and waited for him to open the door to the backseat. "I know I shouldn't have taken off, I just..."

"Save it," John replied coolly. "Whatever, look at least give me the fuckin' keys and let me drive." Andrew rolled his eyes and tossed the keys at the taller man. His partner was probably the most hard headed and rough around the edges guy on the force, but Andrew trusted him like nothing else. The two men piled into the front seat of the car and made plan to go to the nearest hospital.

John turned around and looked in the back seat. Andy followed his line of vision and looked directly at the pretty girl. She had fallen asleep.

John turned back around and started up the car. "Man, I'd never seen you take off so fast. Are you sure you're okay, man?"

Andy swallowed down all the emotion from the call and nodded. "Yeah, I'm alright. I'm just glad to be back." John watched him for a few moments before he must have decided that his answer was acceptable. He put the car into gear and they started off.

... ... ...

Allison woke up in an all too familiar place. The walls and ceiling were white, as well as the sheets that surrounded her tiny body. There was an intravenous tube hooked into her right forearm. She silently wondered if she had been injured, or worse.

It took a few moments to all come crashing back to her. She had wanted to die. On top of her miserable apartment building, she stood in nothing but a flimsy nightgown ready to jump to her death. That was until a mysterious stranger had attempted her from doing so.

She couldn't help but feel even more pathetic than she usually did.

"How are you feeling?" She jumped at the voice and shot her eyes to the door, only to be met with the site of the handsome officer. Her eyes dropped down to her sheets in shame, and she gave him no response.

"I didn't mean to intrude on you or's just that...I wanted to make sure you were alright is all." His voice sounded quiet and withdrawn.

She snorted quietly. "Or did you want praise for your heroic efforts?"

"No..." he replied curtly. "Nothing like that at's just, damn, never mind. I'm sorry for bothering you." She dared to look back at him, only to find his retreating form leaving her alone.

People were always leaving her alone.

"Wait!" She called to him. He stopped and gently turned around. He pulled his hat off of his head and raked a hand through his blonde hair. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "Don't be. You're going through a stressful time right now."

She blinked back tears. "All I want is something more, but time has run out. I can't have it."

He approached her slowly. "You still have plenty of time to find it. It isn't worth ending your life over."

She watched him as a few tears rolled down her cheeks. "I have cancer."

He swallowed. "I'm sorry to hear that."

She bit her lip and wiped at her face. "I'm not going to make it this time. This is the third time that I have been diagnosed." She lay back in her pillow and stared at him. "You know, when I was up there I thought for sure that I was going to be an angel in heaven."

He watched her silently. "And?"

She frowned. "Then I thought maybe there wasn't heaven at the end of the road. You know? What if the angels are here...on Earth?"

His mouth twisted in confusion. "I don't know what I think about that. In a job like mine I haven't seen too many angels walking the Earth."

She nodded her head and pulled her blankets up to her chin. "Thank you for helping me today." He nodded and stood from his seat.

"You've made it this far, you know. If this is your third time - and you've made it twice before - you shouldn't give up. You've been strong. I think you have it in you to make it." He watched her for a few moments before heading towards the door.

"Officer Clark?" She called weakly. He turned slowly to look at her. "I think the angels do walk the Earth."

He nodded and started to smile. "Are you sure?"

She returned the smile and nodded her head. "Yeah, they don't even notice all the good that they do everyday. Perhaps they don't even know just how special they are."

He nodded. "Good bye...and good luck."

She said nothing to him, and only watched as he left the room and her life forever. Just as quickly as he came into it and showed her the light, he was gone. She wasn't sure how - or why - but something had happened that night.

Perhaps it was the fact that she had looked death in face once more, only this time she had challenged him. Or maybe it was the fact that she had come face to face with an angel.

Whatever it was, she only hoped it could help carry her through.

The End
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A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed and pleased don't forget to review! I know this is a bit off from what I usually do, and I also hope that you did not find it offensive.
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