Summary In a world where angels are rare and wage a hefty price on the market, a young hunter captures and illegally keeps a dark winged angel to himself.

Published July 2nd, 2013.

Predicted Length Four chapters or less.

Updates Spastic but should be finished by December/November.

Warnings/Notes While I am not particularly religious, I would rather everyone refrain from flaming any religious references made in the following story. References to the Christian Bible were made for realism and progression of the story. Much of the inspiration/writing references came from these: The Bible, Dante's Inferno, CW's Supernatural, Romeo and Juliet, and a talk with a young child I had about a month ago. Odd inspirational group, I'm aware, but alas.

Disclaimer I don't own Total Drama Island, okay, or any of the Total Drama works or characters for that matter. I know, I know, it makes no sense, since I clearly love them more than the creators, but regrettably, life goes on.

IT IS

TO BE

CERTAIN

OF THAT

WHICH

ONE

CANNOT SEE

by Cereal Killa

"By that sin fell the angels."

William Shakespeare

FIRST

AT NEARLY SUNDOWN, Duncan grabs his rifle and steps into his car, Trent right behind him, hopping along in the backseat. "Gotta at least catch a fairy tonight, Bud." Trent howls his approval and the dark haired man smirks around his cigarette.

The forest is on the edge of town and it takes about ten minutes to get there. By then the sun has set, clouds casting slowly overhead and promising for a dark night.

Trent sniffs around for a few minutes before pointing in a direction heading east. "How far?" Duncan mutters, and the German shepherd taps his foot once. "One mile, eh? Not too bad," he quips before following the dog deeper into the woods.

He adjusts his jacket when Trent whimpers a bit as they near whatever he's sniffed out. It must be a vamp, maybe a low class demon, or maybe some type of shape shifter, to get Trent so bent out of shape. He runs a hand through his short, cropped hair and checks to make sure his gun is loaded all the way.

Trent huffs out a huge breath that is almost silent but Duncan recognizes it for what it is. They've entered the nest of... whatever it is that Trent has found.

Duncan puffs out a breath and traces the scar on the side of his face before heading in.

He lays low inside a bush with Trent and waits. And waits. And then waits a bit more. "Were ya just fuckin' with me Bud, or-" He stops short after hearing a tiny rustle in the distance.

And then there it is! Or should he say there she is. Obviously it's female, since it's naked and curvy and hot damn. Duncan shakes his head, focusing again. It's obviously not human, if the cat like yellow eyes were anything to go by. As it emerges from the darkness into the setting moonlight, Duncan fights the urge to gasp.

He knows that they exist, but he's never actually seen one in person. Dark wings stretch from its back, and Duncan wonders if perhaps it has fallen. He is almost sure that all lore speaks of angels having innocent, white wings. Also, angel wings are only about seven feet in wing span. This angel's is obviously over six meters.

Duncan is patient, however. Others would have taken a shot already, but Duncan isn't like the others. That's what makes him one of the best hunters in Wawanakwa.

He waits a bit, watching as it bends down low to look at something on the ground. It stays by the ground for a few moments, and then Duncan takes his shot.

A blood curdling scream reaches Duncan's ears but he can't suppress his smile. It sounds nearly human. He was right- the thing is an angel. Only an angel could sound that human. Even shifters would sound monstrous when in pain.

Trent goes over and inspects the angel, barking at Duncan once he finds it was safe enough to approach it. Duncan laughs under his breath- the angel is unconscious. Not wanting it to lose too much blood, he wraps up its shoulder tightly with gauze and medical tape before looking around curiously. The angel had been healing a dead moon flower.

He plucks the flower and tucks it into his pocket before tying the angel up and hauling it back toward his car.

It's been two days and the angel is still out cold.

Duncan hasn't reported having it yet because, well, that's the way Duncan works. He's kept a few creatures around his house for the heck of it sometimes, usually selling them after a month or so. Fairies tend to help clean around the house and, well, he still has Trent, after all these years.

He's also curious about the angel. Angel are rare, illegal creatures, only to be owned with a permit. Most hunters go their whole lives without ever spotting one, or living to tell. They are very strong creatures. They are rumored to have ridiculous healing powers, which is confirmed when Duncan finds the angel's bullet wound has healed completely over night.

He can probably make a hefty dollar off of her, but he decides to check it out first. His hunt, his call, he says to himself.

He tells Trent to keep a lookout on the angel and heads out in the morning. He's not dumb enough to just let an angel wake up in his house- he knows he's gonna have to take precaution.

How to find that precaution is the real question, however. Owning an angel is illegal without a permit, and finding the materials to raise one is even deeper in the black market. Thankfully, Duncan has a buddy who is known for finding deals in low places.

"Geoff," Duncan breaths as the two men embrace in a (manly) hug. "Been forever since I've seen you, man. Where ya been?"

The blonde laughs around his joint, letting Duncan out of the hug and clasping both his hands on his shoulders. "Hunting the wiliest shifter you've ever done heard of, dude. Crazy bastard, he was," He shakes his head, reminiscing.

"Well, Geoff, I've got a favor to ask-"

"Ya always do," Geoff says, grinning. Duncan frowns at this and Geoff laughs again. "It's not any problem, Duncan. You're my brother, ya know that right?"

Duncan smiles sadly. "Yeah, I know," he says quietly.

"Whatcha need?"

Coughing into his hand, Duncan continues. "I had an interesting catch last night and I need ta ask ya for some things." Geoff nods at him, and Duncan goes on to clarify. "Things like maybe... an angel collar?"

Geoff's eyes widen. "Really?"

Duncan smirks. "Really. Found it last night in the woods, who would've thought."

"When are ya gonna sell it?"

"You know how I work, Geoff," the dark haired man says. "I don't sell it until I've inspected it. Gotta continue Dad's tradition."

The blonde chuckles in surprise as he heads toward the back of the shop, looking around at all of his tools. "No way. You still have that old journal of his?"

"To this day," Duncan says, trying and failing to keep the pride out of his voice. His dad is kind of a dirt bag father, but he's a damn good hunter, and he's raised a son just as well as him. "Lord knows where he is now, though." Duncan says with a touch of bitterness.

"Best damn hunter I've ever met," Geoff says back, with more emotion in his voice than Duncan supposes he'd like to let on. "If you see him before me, tell him I said to come visit sometime, ok?" He comes back to the front of the store with a box, leaning over it and whispering toward Duncan, as though someone else is in the shop, which there isn't. "Now listen ta me, I put everything yer gonna need in this box right here, but ya gotta promise me if ya get caught, you-"

"Don't tell on you, I know the procedure, Geoff, I'd rather die than rat ya out."

Geoff smiles brightly. "Good," and he shoves the box into Duncan's waiting arms.

Duncan comes home to find Trent sitting on the porch. "What happened?" He asks quietly. Trent just whimpers and tucks his paws above his head. "You're fuckin' kidding me," Duncan says in exasperation.

He opens the box out there on the porch and grabs out two key items he just knows he's about to need.

Walking inside the house, he almost faints at the order that his house is in. "Gwen," he hisses under his breath.

A small light goes off under a torn rug. "Gwen, come here," he repeats, and this time the small light floats toward him. A girl who could fit into his palm comes toward him, her wings fluttering behind her as she approaches. "What happened?"

"Why don't you ask Trent?" Gwen seethes at the dog that is hidden between Duncan's legs. "He's the one who let the angel go rouge." Trent growls lowly, but the fairy just sticks out her tongue. "Oh whatever, you so did."

"Shut up!" Duncan snaps, making the both of them lower their heads. "Where is it now?" He asks. Gwen points toward the kitchen and he scowls. "Ok, I need you to do something for me..."

As he approaches the kitchen, he is alarmed by the animalistic growls he hears coming from the far end of the room. He peeks his head in and fights his need to groan from the sight.

His kitchen is in an even worse state than his living room, which he didn't think was possible. Plates are broken on the floor and the sink is going, and the refrigerator has been left wide open. All of the cabinets are open and ravaged through, as well as one cabinet that is currently inhabited by an angel who is naked and thoroughly devouring a whole box of Fruity Pebbles.

"Jesus Christ," he says under his breath, which is of course the wrong thing to do at that point. An alert, crazy eyed angel turns toward him, it's wings puffing out to full span and knocking over the blender in the process. It's long brown hair is tangled and unruly, coming down to about its back.

He can tell it's about to lunge, and thankfully, Gwen remembers her part. The angel's feral look goes tired as it falls limp in front of him. Gwen holds the small needle full of sedative in her tiny arms, panting. "This thing is really heavy, Duncan," she says, straining. He comes up to her and plucks the small needle from her, leaning over the angel and checking that it is really out. "Damn, you are a handful," He says quietly before clamping the collar around its neck.

"Where did you get that?" Gwen asks, clearly freaked out. Angel collar's have enough magic suppression to kill smaller creatures.

"Don't worry about it, I'm not gonna use one on you." He hears a small whimper from the corner. "Or you Trent, Jeez." He sighs, leaning down against the counter, looking around at the mess in frustration.

"Bet you wish you hadn't sold all those fairies you caught last month, now do ya?" Gwen spits before cowering at Duncan's grimace.

"I could have sold you as well," is enough to make her start cleaning up the house. Duncan sighs, knowing he shouldn't have be so harsh but not being able to care. "Can you please make yourself useful, Trent?"

The dog whimpers before a human voice shoots at him, "Ya don't have ta be so mean about it!" Trent calls, his green eyes upset.

"Put some damn clothes on, Trent."

"You know it takes a lot of effort to conjure up a human form, right?" Duncan sighs and nods his head, waving him off and into the other room, still not understanding how Trent can be so comfortable in all his naked glory. Skin-walkers really are shameless bastards.

Duncan picks up the angel, suddenly aware of how naked it is. He feels almost horrid thinking of what will happen once he sells it. Skin-walkers, like Trent, are usually killed on spot, and are only allowed to be kept if the owner keeps a collar on them at all times. Fairies are only mischievous so no really minds if people keep them, people usually just make a fuss if they disturb the neighbors. Duncan is pretty sure Geoff said once it is legal to own a mermaid, and mostly anything excluding a demon and an angel. Other creatures are too animal like, too small, too different. Demon's and angels are... almost human. So human that it is never surprising to here of some owner getting caught up in a sex slave trade with them.

Duncan shudders at the thought. Being intimate with a monster... it disgusts him more than he cares to admit. In his mind, he knows what happens with all monsters eventually. They are all the same. Even though Gwen and Trent have been with him for years, he knows, eventually, they will turn on him. And when that day comes, no matter how hard it may be, he knows he will not hesitate to shoot and kill them. He has promised them both he will never give them up for sale. And he will do whatever he can to keep that promise until he has to end it all.

He tries not to think about it, dragging the angel upstairs with him.

She smells something. It's burning.

Sitting straight up, she looks around. The room is large just as the bed is. The sheets are soft but stiff, obviously not used for a while. There is a man sitting in a chair beside the bed, writing in a book and huffing away on a cigarette. She jumps at the sight of him and he looks up, surprised. The surprise falters and he smirks at her.

"Morning, Princess!" He says, and she thinks, too loud. She tries to throw him against the wall but finds that she can't. She focuses again. It fails. Her powers... She grabs at her neck, eyes widening at what she feels.

"Sorry, sweet pea, but I couldn't have you running around amok like you were before." She growls, but he keeps smiling. "Gwen made ya breakfast," he says, pointing toward the plate that she just noticed was sitting at the end of her bed. She stares at it, and he urges her on, chuckling a bit. "Go on," he says. "Eat."

She flares out her wings, nearly knocking him over in the process. "Do not demand things from me." She says stiffly.

The man's bright blue eyes twinkle. "So you can talk!" He says. "And English, how about that. Would've thought angels were too separated from human culture to know about that language."

"I am thousands of years old." She says defiantly.

"Which is why I didn't expect ya ta use a language that basically makes a mockery out of other languages. Don't you guys prefer Latin?"

"Greek," she says, then notices he is writing again. "What are you doing?"

He looks up at her again. "Keeping notes." She tilts her head, and he smirks as he clarifies, "Yes, on you, sunshine."

Her yellow eyes widen but she then looks down toward her plate. She begins to pick up the yellow stuff with her fingers, eating slowly and watching him with a dark look.

"Who are you?" She hisses.

"Duncan." He says, simply and cleanly. She doesn't speak again, and tries to ignore his prying eyes as she eats her breakfast.

Duncan has never been more amused with a creature before.

They have learned over the past few days that the angel has many quirks. While it speaks impeccably perfect English, it doesn't know the use of a fork when eating eggs. It likes bacon, and it likes to chase Gwen. It does not know how to use the toilet, which results in a few broken pipes and a flood leading out into the hallway.

Also, it likes to walk on all fours, which Duncan resolutely stops as soon as it begins. "Gotta learn to walk like a person unless ya wanna be treated like a dog," which gains another whimper from Trent, but Duncan ignores him.

The angel is now wearing some of Duncan's old boxers and a tee-shirt he has cut slits into for the wings. He is going to have to go shopping for it, he guesses. As if you're going to keep it that long? He shrugs off his thoughts and instead continues writing.

Currently, the angel is sitting on the couch in the living room, wings tucked in and feet curled under itself. She is staring intently at the television, entranced by it, almost. Gwen sighs beside Duncan's ear, and he looks to see her tiny form sitting on his shoulder. "Please, can we not keep it?" Gwen asks.

Duncan chuckles under his breath. "It's so interesting. And black wings, really, I had no idea they could tuck them in like that."

"Something is off about her." Gwen says quietly, and Duncan realizes something.

"Hey, um... hey angel." It whips it's head around and watches him, watching with intent as Gwen flitters off before the angel can chase it. "What's your name?"

The angel blinks at him. "Curtenussi."

Duncan frowns. "Oh..." Trent barks at him, and Duncan turns toward him. "What is it, Bud?"

Sighing reluctantly, Gwen enters the room again. "He said you can call her Courtney."

Duncan smirks. "Yeah, Courtney... that's a nice girl's name, ain't it?"

The angel scowls. "My true form is genderless."

"Your form now obviously has a vag, so we'll call ya Courtney, Courtney."

The angel shakes her head but looks back at the television with interest. "Tell me, what is a 'Snooki and J-Woww', exactly?"

"Aaaaaaand that's enough TV for the day," Duncan says, shutting off the television and chuckling. "Rots your brain anyway."

Courtney looks around, taking in everything again. She sometimes will pluck at the collar and focus on him, which he realizes is her trying to throw him against the wall with her telekinesis. Realizing she is powerless is taking a while to settle in.

"Well, Trent, I need you to hold down the fort for me, and Gwen, I want you to cook up that Salmon in the fridge, and Courtney-" He looks at her, watching as she stares at him defiantly. "-Well, um... I guess you could help Gwen, or...?" He bites his lip. "Whatever. I'm going to the store... Geoff is coming over tonight... so please don't destroy the house."

"Why are you going to the store?" Gwen asks. "You just went shopping yesterday!" Trent barks repeatedly and Gwen translates, "Oh yeah, and you forgot to get more Kibble last time."

Duncan sighs, sending Courtney a large grin, "Right now, you're my favorite," before strutting out the door.

By the time Duncan gets back he is happy to see that the house is not, in fact, a wreck. Trent is busy helping set the table, which Duncan happily takes over in exchange for Trent turning back into a dog and not an obnoxiously naked man. Courtney is watching the water from the sink fall onto the veggies Gwen is cleaning for dinner. "And could you get the Salmon out of the freezer for me?" Gwen asks, to which Courtney easily complies. "God, you are so much more help than Trent ever was."

"Don't use His name in such a manner." Courtney says quietly, but Gwen still hears her.

"Excuse me?" The fairy chirps, floating above the veggies as she turns off the sink.

Courtney turns after putting the Salmon where Gwen has asked. "My Father's name is not to be used in such a manner."

Duncan's eyes widen. He is fairly surprised. From what he has researched, almost every angel has given up faith and accepted that they are in a world with an absent father, saying it is the only explanation as to why they have been treated like trash for the past hundreds of years. Some angels have lost so much faith that they eventually fell, or lost their powers. No one really knows exactly how that works, but the point is not many angels actually believe God still cares about them, much less exists.

The fairy holds up her hands, giving Courtney a mocking look of apology. "My bad," she tuts, before continuing with what she is cooking.

"Hey, Princess," Duncan says, trying to lighten the mood. Courtney looks up at him, her wide yellow eyes watching him with awe, as though she is amazed he actually came back. He reaches out for a lock of her hair and hesitates when she flinches before bringing the hand to cup a fist full of the brown mess. "We need to get you cleaned up."

She is all in all freaked out.

"What is that?" She screeches, watching as Duncan holds what looks to be a... some sort of double sword. Whatever it is, it's pointing and sharp and looks a lot like an angel killing weapon and she wails, "Get that away from me!"

Duncan gives her a look of confusion. "This?" He says, looking at the weapon as though it's harmless. "It's just a pair of scissors."

"I don't know of what technology you humans have invented in the past few hundred years but I'm not keen to learn about your new weaponry!" She hisses at him as she climbs the sink in hysteria.

He finishes cutting holes in the back of the three shirts he bought, trying to make them large enough to cover her wingspan. "I'm pretty sure scissors date back to like... thousands of years ago. Whatever. Get your ass over here." Duncan says, sighing when he realizes Courtney is shaking in fear. "I just want to cut your hair, ok?"

"...My hair?" Courtney says quietly, grabbing the messy strands and looking at them in awe, almost. "Why would you wish to cut it...?"

Looking at her confused and fearful face makes Duncan take a deep breath before setting the scissors back on the counter. "I don't know. It just seemed easier than getting the tangles out later." He crosses the small room to where the bath is, turning the handle and checking the water temperature as he fills up the tub. "Just wash yourself off and wash your hair and then we'll deal with it... and change into these clothes." Duncan holds up the shopping bags he'd come in with earlier.

Courtney narrows her eyes at him. "Why?"

Duncan recognizes her stance as one of harsh rebellion. It is obvious that she doesn't like taking orders and doesn't like things being 'demanded' of her, but Duncan is sort of tired of it already. "Well, for one, you look like shit. When is the last time you cleaned up?"

"You speak as if I ever had the time to do as such. I've spent the last three hundred years in hiding."

"And none of you angel-buddies ever once told you to maybe use a little soap?"

"All my friends are dead." She says with finality.

Duncan stares at her for a few moments before turning off the faucet. "Take a bath," he says quietly, leaving her in the bathroom and rubbing his temples the whole way down the stairs.

"Human!"

"Human!"

"Hu- Duncan!"

"DUNCAN!"

"Hold your horses, I'm coming, jeez!" Duncan growls, slamming open the bathroom door. "You do realize Geoff will be here in less than-"

He stops short at the site of the angel.

Courtney's black wings are wet and slick, her hair hanging limply around her small face. She has put on the jeans Duncan bought for her, but that's about it. Her upper half is completely devoid of clothing, and Duncan fights to keep his eyes on her own.

"I do not understand this odd contraption." She holds up the small black bra in her hands, looking at it oddly. "It is a sort of... head device, or the like?"

Duncan fights the urge to face palm himself. "Oh my G- Gwen!" He yells. "Come help Courtney before Geoff gets here!" The fairy comes zipping up the stairs, shooting Duncan an odd look but not saying anything as she directs Courtney on how to wear the garments.

As Duncan runs down the stairs, Trent laughs at him. "Why the hell are you in your human form?" Duncan groans.

Trent just chuckles again. "Crushing on an angel, are we, tomato face?" Duncan's look turns to one of shocked horror as he turns to face the mirror in the hallway, seeing that he is in fact sporting a huge blush across his cheeks.

"Be a fucking dog again before I douse you in Holy Water." Trent's eyes widen and he immediately takes the form of a German shepherd again, green eyes twinkling in fear.

A/N: July is update month! I am steadily entering the world of Fanfiction once again, duckies, just give me a little time. Thank you for reading, and another chapter should be out fairly soon. ;) Also it's 4:53 am, why the fuck am I still up