Mary
Uriel was sleepy as usual, but one thing kept them awake with a laser focused train of thought. In their pocket held an unopened letter, fingers brushing over the small sticker sealing the envelope. 

They continued trekking up the stairs, until a bright red door finally revealed itself at the end of the curve. They placed a hand on the bar, pushing their hip against the door to force the thing open. 

The roof was nice and cool against the midnight sky. Uriel smiled, a faint, soft expression. The stars always seemed to soothe the mind, the quiet hum of nature almost sounding like a sigh. 

They'd always make it a habit to read their mother's letters under the cloak of midnight. Perhaps it was the space to think, to fully savor every word of what Sophie had to say. 

Either way, Uriel found themselves headed to their usual spot, when someone familiar spots them.
Marsha
It wouldn't be long for Vance to hear someone come up into his space. He glance over his shoulder to see the same white haired clown from before. The animosity he had seem to be retained in a stupor while he felt like utter shit after today. "What's up?" He asked, sounding tired.
Mary
Instead of jolting at the noise, it takes a good three seconds for Uriel to turn towards Vance. When they look over, Uriel stares blankly at Vance before lighting up in recognition. 

"Oh, hello, Vance. I'm... Reading a letter. " They shuffle the letter tighter to their chest. 

"What about you? How has the recovery been?"
Marsha
"Its been rough... Still feel like shit," Vance said, taking a good long drag from his cigarette before blowing out a stream of smoke. "You got a letter? Let me guess... Its from your mom?" There was a pause when he flicks the ashes from his cigarette. "Is she nice?"
Mary
Uriel turns towards Vance, a little startled at the sudden emotion vulnerability. 

"Ah, yes, it's from her. She's— yes, she's a very kind and caring woman. Why are you asking, though?" 

*Is it because of your own family life..?* Uriel wonders, but keeps the thought in their mouth. They have enough emotional intelligence to understand that, at least.
Marsha
*"Just wondering, I just got mine."* His deep blue eyes narrowed as he pulls out his crumpled letter. "Its same usual crap that I won't be missing." And he shoves it back into his coat pocket without looking at Uriel as his view is more focused outside of the campus.
Mary
"Oh, that's... Unfortunate to hear. You mentioned that before, I remember." 

Uriel stays silent for a moment. They take a look up towards the stars, mentally tracing the constellations— *Big Dipper, Orion, Cassiopeia* — and remember that, across the sea, their mom was counting the same ones. 

*Perhaps she's watching me— it wouldn't surprise me if she checked in on my dreams, every once in a while.*

"Do you... Are you alright? Is it... Making you upset?" 

If Vance wanted to be uncharacteristically open, then Uriel would listen.
Marsha
"Yeh, I'm use to it," Vance said, not bothering to look up at the stars. He isn't much of a stargazer like Uriel who had their eyes glued to the night sky. He held the cigarette between his index and middle finger while he still kept his vision ahead. "The old hag is just pissed because I decided to not be her puppet anymore." This was a hint, a recollection for Uriel if they ever recall his nightmare of his past. "I don't think she is my real mom anyways..."
Mary
Uriel looked over at Vance, smiling ever-so-slightly. The boy had started opening up— and Uriel needed to make sure to give them positive reinforcement to spur more emotional maturity from the elf. 

"You're out of her reach here, but either way, it's a good thing your recognizing that abuse. It's a.. Hard thing to accept, and an even harder thing to deal with properly. I'm happy you've grown past what she has to say."

" I'd read mine now, but it's a bit rude to read with company, no?"

Uriel muses, staring at their letter once more. It's a deep purple, almost matching the colors of their poncho. It most likely contained similar content to the other ones— ones currently kept in a small scrapbook located in their desk drawer— but even that knowledge couldn't contain the excitement of receiving a letter.
Marsha
This is when Vance run his hand over half his upper face with his palm pressed between his eyebrows. Then he let out a tired sigh as Uriel stated the oblivious like an old, wise aunt chattering to him. He doesn't respond to that part as he slightly slump over the railing, now deciding to take another breath of his cigarette to help calm his angsty nerves. "It doesn't really matter to me if you read it out loud or not." The crumpled letter in his pocket burned with hate from his mother. He could feel every ounce of malice. He collected them since he first arrived at the school to save it to show to the press later. As of now, he just doesn't quite care if his parents would get in trouble.
Mary
"Why don't you burn it, then? It might be cathartic." Uriel digs in their messenger bag, and pulls out a lighter— one most often used to light relaxing candles, but the mess of items in Uriel's bag usually were there at random. 

"See the smoke rise in the stars, and have your worries disappear in the night." They smile, and offer the lighter towards Vance. 

"Besides, it is a bit chilly." They laugh, light and airy.
Marsha
It was odd for Vance for Uriel to respond and behave this way due to the fact that he was just thinking about most of all this. He waved Uriel's light off as with his nose wrinkled before he turns back to stare out into the dark abyss. He could see nocturnal animals minding their own business in the woods. "That's the most cheesiest thing I've heard coming out of you," He said, his voice coming to a slight drawl. Then he thinks a bit more. A way bit more. Hey... Can we hang out by that tree over there? Think it would be a good spot to burn the crap letters. "You're right, its best that I should get rid of em."
Mary
"Alright, lead the way if you're going to exit the rooftop." They mutter, a twinkle still in Uriel's eyes from Vance's choice. 

Cheesy, huh? It managed to work, though, so Uriel allowed themselves a small pat on the back as they exited the roof. 

Being so high... It made them tempted to sing, to hear their voice echo across the Swedish forest. They brushed the thought away, instead opting for singing a tiny, quiet lullaby under their breath. It was one their mom had sung to them often as a child. 

*Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai

Sous les feuilles d'un chêne,
Je me suis fait sécher
Sur la plus haute branche,
Un rossignol chantait*

Their voice was soft and cloyingly sweet, the fondness of those memories echoing in their dulcet tone of voice.
Marsha
This is the most gayest thing Uriel would do most certainly if they were paid to sing in the TreeHouse TV network. He doesn't say anything as Uriel chalalala behind him while they are having a Disney Princess moment. Vance does show them the way taking a short cut down on the fire escape that brought them to the ground much quicker. It was perfectly dark outside for the stars to shine at their brightest with not a single sign of a cloud. When the reach the lonely tree, Vance begins to take out a dozen hate letters and using Uriel's zippo to light it. Next thing he did places it by the bush right next to the tree. "You know, I am so tired having to obey and tolerate what other people wanted," He said, slightly venting as he now uses Uriels lighter to spread the flames on the tree. "Good grades, being perfect, it's all not fucking worth it!" There was a chaotic rise of ecstasy from Vance as he felt relief that the fire woosh up along side the tree. The flames grow hotter, brighter as it now spreads like flaming serpents across the ground. Vance's shadow loom over Uriel where he stood in front of the burning tree with his eyes slightly glowing in silver. He couldn't help himself but gave a maniacal laughter as embers and pieces of the burning paper rise into the night air. Just as Uriel mentioned earlier,"See the smoke rise in the stars, and have your worries disappear in the night." But this would be a questionable moment for what path Vance will take on from now on.
Mary
"See? You're free from all of that, now." Uriel kicks some of the ashes, their boot smothering the little flickers of life still in the soot. 

*It's... A bit of an odd laugh, but so long as he's happy?* Uriel muses, a bit confused at the more ominous tone. 

"Be your own man, Vance." They say, yawning. They sleepily rub their eyes, patting Vance on the shoulder... And slipping a familiar 10$ into his pocket. 

They're not going to seek out payment for their own personal atonement— it would destroy the purpose, even if the sentiment was nice. No, Uriel did not want Vance's money. 

"It's about time you headed off to bed, no?" Uriel continued, eyes half-lidded— mostly for amusement at their little trick, but also due to the late night.
Marsha
"Oh no... I'm just..." Yeah he's getting tired and he needs a lot of energy after losing his shit here after burning the letters and tree down. "Going to go on my own business, twerp." He hands Uriel his zippo back before disappearing in thin air like a ghost before any authority would see him. Now there's just Uriel standing alone by the burning tree with strands of smoke wiggling into the night air.
Mary
*I'd best not wander around— who knows what animals might be lying in wait around here.* 

As Uriel walks back alone, they take out their own letter and begin to read. 

*Dearest angel, 
This sleepy town of ours has been just as placid as you remember it. The bookclerk, Ms. Blanchet, asks about you. I tell her you're doing alright, but she misses you anyway. 

It seems word of what happened has spread through the rest of the family. They've been more kind towards me as of late, perhaps hoping I'd abandon you and rejoin the family as if nothing happened. 

I tell them to go to hell— if they can't accept my child, no matter their father, then they can go eat my shoe, as it were. 

I will always love you, mon petit ange. I worry about you, all alone in that facility. That friend you wrote about sounds nice— I hope you make many more. Be careful if the extended family attempts to contact you. 

Love, 
Your guardian angel.*

—