Ancient Words: Ch. 25/28, "Answers", PG13, Sam, Dean, OC's
Title/Chapter: Ancient Words - Ch. 25 - Answers
Author: Supernatural Mommy
Characters: Sam, Dean, OFC, OMC (child), OMC ; no pairings
Spoilers: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to Nightmare
Warnings: PG-13 now, R overall for adult themes. This chapter some religious references: Overall rated for language, violence (including non-con acts depicted with OC's and torture) hurt/comfort, religious references (seriously, this story uses lots of religious references, so if that bothers you, please don't read) I will try to label each chapter appropriately
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em *pity*, but new characters are my own creation.
Summary: Sometimes the answer to prayers is no, sometimes it’s not right now, and sometimes it’s yes. But will they see the answers as they come?
Author's Notes: Sequel to Look Into His Eyes. Please read through my author's notes Here (from first chapter) and Here (Chapter listing and summary with some minor plot spoilers) if you need more information, explanations, etc
Chapter 25 - Answers
Nurses came and went in the small ICU room. An elderly priest sat quietly in a chair beside the bed. His weathered eyes never left the face of his friend unless closed in prayer.
He wasn’t asked to leave. There were some perks to being a man of the cloth. He eyed his younger brother in the Lord and shook his head sadly.
His frail hand held the large, limp one that lay still in the bed.
“Well, Andrew. A fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into this time, young man.” Around his eyes, the skin creased as a small smile lifted weathered cheeks up. “I’m not sure what exactly happened, except that you are a hero. Whatever that evil man had planned for the little Carver boy and the others, you helped to stop it. The Lord must have been with you, child.”
The elder leaned back in the seat, still holding his young friend’s hand. His eyes closed and lips started moving in a silent prayer. He sat like that for several minutes, his face still relaxed in prayer when the doctor came in almost ten minutes later.
His sharp eyes popped open at the sudden rustling sound the curtain made as the doctor moved it out of the way.
“Well, doctor, how is my young man here doing? Eh?” His eyes studied the doctor and then roamed over to study his friend again. The big man was so still and pale. He patted the big hand and fiddled with his hands in his lap.
“Well, I can’t say it’s as good as I would like. But so far he’s maintained his vitals, and we can just hope that he keeps holding on.” The old man looked up sharply and met the doctor’s eyes.
“Hope is all well and good, young man. But we pray for our hope. Prayer is more important than wishing on moonbeams.” The elderly man shifted in his seat and glared at the doctor, who cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“Well, in any case. He’s holding his own. The surgery went well, but if your friend makes it through this, he will have permanent damage to his spinal cord.” The old priest nodded sagely as a tear rolled down his face.
“The Lord brings us to it, He will indeed lead us through it. If the Lord calls for it, this man can deal with that sacrifice.” He looked up to find the doctor looking at him strangely. With a whisper of a smile on his face, the doctor checked vitals again.
“You heard anything about the Carvers? Brought in with this one here?” The ancient man gestured towards where Andy lay on the bed. Studied the doctor’s face.
“I heard a little something about the brother and sister brought in with him here. Everyone is talking about the whole group really, what with how they were found and all.” The doctor shook his head sadly. “Never understand what would drive someone to be that evil. Trying to kill so many in the name of some kind of satanic ritual. Man! Thought I had seen it all.”
The elder man mumbled a little something, and then sat up a bit straighter.
“I believe I will go to check on the Carvers. I will be back with the pastor here shortly.” The doctor nodded and looked at the IV line. When he looked back up, the older man was gone.
“Quick old man.” He looked down at Andy, his gaze softening. “I’m still sorry for everything you’ve gone through, mister. And I just hope . . . or maybe I’ll even pray . . . that you do get better.”
He left the room, leaving only a dim light on to illuminate the man of God.
*******************************
Reelaiah watched the man of God silently, his magnificent body bent over itself and wings curled almost protectively around his massive shoulders.
This holy one . . . the angel shuddered. He waited a moment and then straightened to his full height, awaiting the arrival of his earthly brother. Although this was most difficult, he realized in the end, all would bring glory to the Lord.
Living or at home in Heaven, the man of God would be a great testimony for their Father.
His life now hung in the balance, his earthly one at least. He studied the large man as he came into focus. And he smiled.
As Andrew came before him, the angel placed a hand on the holy one’s shoulder.
“Am I dead?” The sweet face before him didn’t look scared at the thought. And he shook his head with a gentle smile on his face.
“No, my holy brother. Right now your life hangs in the balance. I know not what heaven desires. While the decision is not up to you, I must prepare you.” Andy’s bright eyes met his in confusion.
“Prepare me for what?”
“Prepare you for what awaits if you live.” The pastor blinked in surprise. “You know already what to expect if you die. You will be pulled up to heaven to live in your Father’s house, in what will seem the blink of an eye to you.”
The man nodded, knowing this was in line with what he knew already. His eyebrows knit together in confusion over the other.
“Are you saying that if I live, there’s something wrong? With me?” The crystal blue eyes widened in understanding. And he turned away. He spoke again over his shoulder. “What about Bobby? Annie?”
“They live. They have much healing yet, but they live.” Andrew turned with a smile on his face. A small smile.
“I was able to save Bobby then! Oh thank God!” The angel found his smile. This holy one was very special. Not many would be concerned for another when faced with their own mortality.
“Pastor, I am to warn you of what awaits, should you return to your earthly body.” But The holy one shook his head.
“It’s no matter, if I live - I live. No matter what else. God will have some purpose in it, I’m sure.” He was a wise human and Reelaiah could not help looking at him curiously.
“Yes, but . . .” The man interrupted him.
“It doesn’t matter. What? Can’t walk? Can’t talk? Weak as a baby?” The holy one just smiled. “I think, after dealing with that particular demon, I can deal with whatever comes.”
It wasn’t often the angel found himself interrupted and out-talked in holy matters. He pursed his lips.
“I know it sounds stupid, coming from me. And I can admit I’m scared to death of living. There are such evil people in that world.” The holy man shuddered. “Apart from demons and the crazy poor souls that conjure them, we live in an evil world. I know that. But there has to be some hope. So I . . . I guess if I live I’ll have to find that hope and hold onto it.”
The angel felt his wings ripple, and his heart sighed at the simple words. He placed a large hand on the holy man’s face, turning his head slightly up. Still holding the side of his head within his large hand, he smiled at the surprise on the pastor’s face.
“You are special indeed, pastor. I believe that . . .” Reelaiah closed his eyes as an answer from heaven washed over him. He opened his eyes and looked deeply into the bright blue eyes before him. “I believe that God had plans for you yet on earth, holy one.”
And with that pronouncement, Reelaiah felt the pull of the man’s body.
“It is time, Andrew.” With a deep breath and squared shoulders, the pastor met his eyes and his smiled at him widely. “Remember your brave words. Find comfort in the Lord. And pastor . . .” The man waited for his words. “You will fall sometimes. And you will fear. And you will remember. The Lord will always be with you. Should you fall, He will pick you up. And should you fear, He will strengthen you. Rest in the comfort of his grace, holy one.”
Andrew nodded.
“When I am weak, I am strong . . . Because of the Lord, with the Lord. I understand.” He nodded.
Both holy ones shimmered from existence in the recesses of Andrew’s mind, one to life, the other to his heavenly realm.
***************************
Downstairs, in a still quiet room, the elderly pastor sat vigil at the bedside of the Carver siblings. His ancient face softened as he gazed at the protective hold the sister had around her brother.
A hand crooked with age cupped the young boy’s forehead, gently pressing in underneath the layer of hair that fell there. The old man’s head fell forward in an age-old position of prayer. His weathered lips moved with a silent prayer there and looked up a moment later with a gentle smile on his face.
He hovered near the siblings a moment longer, finally moving to sit in a chair alongside the bed. He studied the innocent faces in front of him. The boy was an enigma to him. So simple a child yet so incredibly special as well. Deeply set in his simple, innocent faith, the child was truly something.
And his sister. Such strength in the face of horrible danger. She was special as well. Heaven held her and her brother close, the ancient man could feel that simple fact to his toes.
He frowned at the agitation that crossed the young woman’s face, knowing that her memories would be nightmarish.
With his head bent low, he whispered a prayer toward heaven for the brave young woman.
He kept watch over her and her brother, with gentle, unwavering eyes. His weathered face glistened with the paths of countless tears as he hurt for these children of his God.
His soft prayers wove a soft melody throughout the room, as the brother and sister dreamt on.
*****************************
The gentle angel watched the child as he rocked in the safe spot within the darkest recesses of his mind. The boy was hiding.
As the mighty guardian watched, he understood. The boy had been tested, used as a holy vessel, and then pierced by pure evil. He was a bright child, simple in his pure faith, complex in his unique mind.
Understanding wasn’t easy for this sweet child. And when the understanding brought pain, and more confusion, the child could only hurt more deeply. With divine tears staining his own face, and unrest moving his wings in soft ripples of agitation, the angel lifted his own mighty head to heaven in a broken prayer.
This little one had been touched by evil in a brutal blow to his innocent soul. How could he heal from such a wound, Lord?
With love, and with truth. The answer came to him simply.
While the child had been wounded deeply, underneath the pain, he was still the same sweet boy who spoke a holy language fluently because he thought it was special.
He was still the same child who learned and spoke the most ancient of the languages with the ease and understanding of an angel.
He was still the same boy who was special in heaven’s light.
Jalmari smiled. This he could do. He could reach out to the boy.
Stepping forward to reveal himself, he knelt beside the boy, pushing his wings behind him to sit in front of the child. He continued to rock.
“Little one, it is time to wake up.” And still he rocked. He tried a different path. “I must speak with you, child. Please look at me.”
Patiently, he waited for his words to reach the child. Still, he rocked. He felt the shift in the boy’s thoughts, though, and knew he was starting to reach him.
“You must be brave and strong, little one. Your sister needs you.” At this, the deep brown eyes opened, to release a floodgate of tears.
“Annie hurt. All hurt. Bobby hurt. Jalmari, why?” Those eyes pierced the angel, resetting his inner turmoil to a fever pitch. Why, indeed.
“It is the evil within this world, little one. I know this does not make sense, but evil is attracted to good. And you, and your sister, and your friends, you are all good.” He waited for the boy to digest what he had been told.
“Don’t like evil, bad things, people. Bad.” With a fervent shake of his head and soft hair, the boy looked up at Jalmari, his eyes dark in anger. The angel understood. Anger was good, the little one could use anger.
“I know, sweet child, evil is in the world. But there is still much good. Your sister . . . your friends. Your reading. So much good, too, little one.” He watched the boy, understanding there was more. When the child looked up at him again, he saw it.
“Don’t know why, Jalmari. Why Bobby say the words. Why Annie hurt bad. God not save all us. Why?” Ah. The age old question. Grown men and angels didn’t know the answer to that one.
“You know when you learned the words from your bible, and then the special words too. Do you remember it took a lot of work, a lot of planning and remembering and a lot of effort?” The boy nodded his head, eyes drinking in the angel’s message. “Sometimes God needs help in the world, He needs special people to help others. Sometimes, God needs a special kind of help that only a special kind of person can give. God needs a chosen one, a special one to help him protect this world.”
“Bobby. Jalmari say Bobby special one? Before?” The angel nodded, pleased the boy was understanding. Then he continued his story.
“He chooses well, knowing that the chosen one will need help. So he makes sure the chosen one has special friends willing to fight hard to save the chosen one. The friends must be brave and strong, just like the chosen one.”
“Annie! And Andy! Sam-mie and Dean all special friends? Yes?” The angel nodded, again pleased the boy was listening so closely.
“Now, God sends his angels to watch over the chosen one and all his special friends, but because this is a fight in this world, where the chosen one lives, the angels and even God cannot fight the battle. The special one and his friends, they must fight for God.” He watched the boy process what he said.
“God needs help?” The angel leaned forward with a smile.
“Yes, little one, sometimes even God needs assistance.” The boy’s eyes were wide as he processed this information. His mouth was frozen in a little circle before straightening out in a smile.
“You know who else needs you right now, child?” He waited for the boy’s attention. “Your sister needs you. Annie was hurt by evil, like you. She needs her brother. She needs you.”
“Bobby help Annie. Annie brave. Annie good.” Jalmari nodded.
“It is time to help your sister, little one. Wake up and help your sister.”
The angel watched as the boy faded, a thoughtful look gracing his strong face. Drawing himself up to his full height, the heavenly being shimmered and faded from sight as his head lifted to heaven in prayer.
****************************
“I don’t think I remember you, pastor.” Annie had just awoken, finding an elderly pastor sitting beside Bobby’s bed. He was watching them intently. While it was a little unnerving she wasn’t concerned, really. Just curious.
“Oh, I’m visiting the hospital today. You know, you and your brother and the others are the talk of the halls, what with all that evil man put you all through. I thought I would stop in and see if I could pray with you.” He looked her in the eye and she swore she could lose herself in the dark depths. “But you were asleep when I came in and I couldn’t wake you, so I just sat here and prayed. I hope that is okay?”
“Oh, yes. Of course, pastor. I was just surprised.” She looked carefully at the pastor, he looked familiar but she knew he wasn’t from her church. He leaned forward, his deeply etched face brightening as he met her eyes.
“I couldn’t pretend to understand, of course. But I know that fighting that kind of evil, not letting an evil man like that win, that takes a special kind of strength.” Annie snorted a small laugh.
“Oh, I’m not all that strong, pastor. I just prayed a lot. God did all the rest.” Almost all. She had a sudden flashback to that place and paled, blinking her eyes savagely to keep the tears in. “Really, I’m just a weakling. My brother is stronger than me.” She looked down at Bobby and smiled. She remembered the knife held above his small body, shimmering in the light, and the smile left her face.
A sudden pressure on her hand grabbed her attention, and she realized the elder had reached out to hold her hand, and was gazing at her with concern.
“Child, strength isn’t always about how strong you are. Sometimes it’s about how much God strengthens you.” He locked his ancient eyes with hers. “Being attacked does not make you weak, child. You survived. You fought back. And by God’s grace you won. That is strength, not weakness.”
She choked back her rebuttal, instead lowering her eyes in shame. But a soft hand held her chin and gently lifted her head up again.
“You are strong, Annabelle. God knows you are very strong indeed. You fought with the evil one. And though it may haunt you and even hurt you for some time to come, you won. You survived. Remember that, child.” She blinked at the fire within the man’s eyes. “Remember also that when you are hurting and afraid, you still have the Lord to lean on. Always.”
His hand fell away and she blinked again as he stood before her.
“Thank you, pastor.” She was grateful for the peace his words had given her. However fleeting. “Did you ever say what your name was?”
“Oh, just call me Pastor Reelaiah. God will be with you child. Do not forget it.” With that, the ancient man ambled slowly toward the door. She glanced down at her brother and looked back up to see he was already gone.
She relaxed back into the bed beside her brother, letting the pain within her body simmer for a minute before calling a nurse. A sudden movement beside her on the bed had her sitting up despite the pain, a smile growing on her face.
“Oh, Bobby. I’m so glad to see you awake, sweetie. I was so worried about you.” She reached down to pull him into a hug, but he pushed forward with his own first, almost bending her in half with the force of it.
“Annie!” His dark eyes were studying her as he pulled back from the hug. “Annie hur’?”
“Just a little sweetie. But I’ll be fine. How do you feel?” She peered into his bright eyes, shocked to see him meeting her eyes intensely. He concentrated and she could almost see the wheels turning in his little head. She smiled at him, encouraging an answer. He studied her intently for a few moments longer, starting to make her a bit uncomfortable. His eyes pierced hers the whole time. Dark, endless little eyes. Beautiful eyes.
“Annie. Bobby hurt some. But . . . Bobby help Annie. Bobby . . . Bobby . . .” He looked at her almost painfully, obviously desperate to say something important. His mouth worked silently for a moment, and then he rocked slightly, giving himself the momentum to continue. “Bobby . . . Bobby . . . Bobby loves Annie.”
There, he had spit it out. Annie stared at him wide eyed. She had never heard him speak those words before. Oh, for such a blessing. Tears coursed down her cheeks, and she smiled at her brother.
“Oh sweetie. Annie loves you too. So very, very much.” She kissed him lightly on the forehead, surprised when he didn’t groan or try to pull away. Grateful when he didn’t.
She held him close, so very grateful for small miracles.
Thank you God.
I"d love to hear your thoughts!
Author: Supernatural Mommy
Characters: Sam, Dean, OFC, OMC (child), OMC ; no pairings
Spoilers: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to Nightmare
Warnings: PG-13 now, R overall for adult themes. This chapter some religious references: Overall rated for language, violence (including non-con acts depicted with OC's and torture) hurt/comfort, religious references (seriously, this story uses lots of religious references, so if that bothers you, please don't read) I will try to label each chapter appropriately
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em *pity*, but new characters are my own creation.
Summary: Sometimes the answer to prayers is no, sometimes it’s not right now, and sometimes it’s yes. But will they see the answers as they come?
Author's Notes: Sequel to Look Into His Eyes. Please read through my author's notes Here (from first chapter) and Here (Chapter listing and summary with some minor plot spoilers) if you need more information, explanations, etc
Chapter 25 - Answers
Nurses came and went in the small ICU room. An elderly priest sat quietly in a chair beside the bed. His weathered eyes never left the face of his friend unless closed in prayer.
He wasn’t asked to leave. There were some perks to being a man of the cloth. He eyed his younger brother in the Lord and shook his head sadly.
His frail hand held the large, limp one that lay still in the bed.
“Well, Andrew. A fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into this time, young man.” Around his eyes, the skin creased as a small smile lifted weathered cheeks up. “I’m not sure what exactly happened, except that you are a hero. Whatever that evil man had planned for the little Carver boy and the others, you helped to stop it. The Lord must have been with you, child.”
The elder leaned back in the seat, still holding his young friend’s hand. His eyes closed and lips started moving in a silent prayer. He sat like that for several minutes, his face still relaxed in prayer when the doctor came in almost ten minutes later.
His sharp eyes popped open at the sudden rustling sound the curtain made as the doctor moved it out of the way.
“Well, doctor, how is my young man here doing? Eh?” His eyes studied the doctor and then roamed over to study his friend again. The big man was so still and pale. He patted the big hand and fiddled with his hands in his lap.
“Well, I can’t say it’s as good as I would like. But so far he’s maintained his vitals, and we can just hope that he keeps holding on.” The old man looked up sharply and met the doctor’s eyes.
“Hope is all well and good, young man. But we pray for our hope. Prayer is more important than wishing on moonbeams.” The elderly man shifted in his seat and glared at the doctor, who cleared his throat uncomfortably.
“Well, in any case. He’s holding his own. The surgery went well, but if your friend makes it through this, he will have permanent damage to his spinal cord.” The old priest nodded sagely as a tear rolled down his face.
“The Lord brings us to it, He will indeed lead us through it. If the Lord calls for it, this man can deal with that sacrifice.” He looked up to find the doctor looking at him strangely. With a whisper of a smile on his face, the doctor checked vitals again.
“You heard anything about the Carvers? Brought in with this one here?” The ancient man gestured towards where Andy lay on the bed. Studied the doctor’s face.
“I heard a little something about the brother and sister brought in with him here. Everyone is talking about the whole group really, what with how they were found and all.” The doctor shook his head sadly. “Never understand what would drive someone to be that evil. Trying to kill so many in the name of some kind of satanic ritual. Man! Thought I had seen it all.”
The elder man mumbled a little something, and then sat up a bit straighter.
“I believe I will go to check on the Carvers. I will be back with the pastor here shortly.” The doctor nodded and looked at the IV line. When he looked back up, the older man was gone.
“Quick old man.” He looked down at Andy, his gaze softening. “I’m still sorry for everything you’ve gone through, mister. And I just hope . . . or maybe I’ll even pray . . . that you do get better.”
He left the room, leaving only a dim light on to illuminate the man of God.
*******************************
Reelaiah watched the man of God silently, his magnificent body bent over itself and wings curled almost protectively around his massive shoulders.
This holy one . . . the angel shuddered. He waited a moment and then straightened to his full height, awaiting the arrival of his earthly brother. Although this was most difficult, he realized in the end, all would bring glory to the Lord.
Living or at home in Heaven, the man of God would be a great testimony for their Father.
His life now hung in the balance, his earthly one at least. He studied the large man as he came into focus. And he smiled.
As Andrew came before him, the angel placed a hand on the holy one’s shoulder.
“Am I dead?” The sweet face before him didn’t look scared at the thought. And he shook his head with a gentle smile on his face.
“No, my holy brother. Right now your life hangs in the balance. I know not what heaven desires. While the decision is not up to you, I must prepare you.” Andy’s bright eyes met his in confusion.
“Prepare me for what?”
“Prepare you for what awaits if you live.” The pastor blinked in surprise. “You know already what to expect if you die. You will be pulled up to heaven to live in your Father’s house, in what will seem the blink of an eye to you.”
The man nodded, knowing this was in line with what he knew already. His eyebrows knit together in confusion over the other.
“Are you saying that if I live, there’s something wrong? With me?” The crystal blue eyes widened in understanding. And he turned away. He spoke again over his shoulder. “What about Bobby? Annie?”
“They live. They have much healing yet, but they live.” Andrew turned with a smile on his face. A small smile.
“I was able to save Bobby then! Oh thank God!” The angel found his smile. This holy one was very special. Not many would be concerned for another when faced with their own mortality.
“Pastor, I am to warn you of what awaits, should you return to your earthly body.” But The holy one shook his head.
“It’s no matter, if I live - I live. No matter what else. God will have some purpose in it, I’m sure.” He was a wise human and Reelaiah could not help looking at him curiously.
“Yes, but . . .” The man interrupted him.
“It doesn’t matter. What? Can’t walk? Can’t talk? Weak as a baby?” The holy one just smiled. “I think, after dealing with that particular demon, I can deal with whatever comes.”
It wasn’t often the angel found himself interrupted and out-talked in holy matters. He pursed his lips.
“I know it sounds stupid, coming from me. And I can admit I’m scared to death of living. There are such evil people in that world.” The holy man shuddered. “Apart from demons and the crazy poor souls that conjure them, we live in an evil world. I know that. But there has to be some hope. So I . . . I guess if I live I’ll have to find that hope and hold onto it.”
The angel felt his wings ripple, and his heart sighed at the simple words. He placed a large hand on the holy man’s face, turning his head slightly up. Still holding the side of his head within his large hand, he smiled at the surprise on the pastor’s face.
“You are special indeed, pastor. I believe that . . .” Reelaiah closed his eyes as an answer from heaven washed over him. He opened his eyes and looked deeply into the bright blue eyes before him. “I believe that God had plans for you yet on earth, holy one.”
And with that pronouncement, Reelaiah felt the pull of the man’s body.
“It is time, Andrew.” With a deep breath and squared shoulders, the pastor met his eyes and his smiled at him widely. “Remember your brave words. Find comfort in the Lord. And pastor . . .” The man waited for his words. “You will fall sometimes. And you will fear. And you will remember. The Lord will always be with you. Should you fall, He will pick you up. And should you fear, He will strengthen you. Rest in the comfort of his grace, holy one.”
Andrew nodded.
“When I am weak, I am strong . . . Because of the Lord, with the Lord. I understand.” He nodded.
Both holy ones shimmered from existence in the recesses of Andrew’s mind, one to life, the other to his heavenly realm.
***************************
Downstairs, in a still quiet room, the elderly pastor sat vigil at the bedside of the Carver siblings. His ancient face softened as he gazed at the protective hold the sister had around her brother.
A hand crooked with age cupped the young boy’s forehead, gently pressing in underneath the layer of hair that fell there. The old man’s head fell forward in an age-old position of prayer. His weathered lips moved with a silent prayer there and looked up a moment later with a gentle smile on his face.
He hovered near the siblings a moment longer, finally moving to sit in a chair alongside the bed. He studied the innocent faces in front of him. The boy was an enigma to him. So simple a child yet so incredibly special as well. Deeply set in his simple, innocent faith, the child was truly something.
And his sister. Such strength in the face of horrible danger. She was special as well. Heaven held her and her brother close, the ancient man could feel that simple fact to his toes.
He frowned at the agitation that crossed the young woman’s face, knowing that her memories would be nightmarish.
With his head bent low, he whispered a prayer toward heaven for the brave young woman.
He kept watch over her and her brother, with gentle, unwavering eyes. His weathered face glistened with the paths of countless tears as he hurt for these children of his God.
His soft prayers wove a soft melody throughout the room, as the brother and sister dreamt on.
*****************************
The gentle angel watched the child as he rocked in the safe spot within the darkest recesses of his mind. The boy was hiding.
As the mighty guardian watched, he understood. The boy had been tested, used as a holy vessel, and then pierced by pure evil. He was a bright child, simple in his pure faith, complex in his unique mind.
Understanding wasn’t easy for this sweet child. And when the understanding brought pain, and more confusion, the child could only hurt more deeply. With divine tears staining his own face, and unrest moving his wings in soft ripples of agitation, the angel lifted his own mighty head to heaven in a broken prayer.
This little one had been touched by evil in a brutal blow to his innocent soul. How could he heal from such a wound, Lord?
With love, and with truth. The answer came to him simply.
While the child had been wounded deeply, underneath the pain, he was still the same sweet boy who spoke a holy language fluently because he thought it was special.
He was still the same child who learned and spoke the most ancient of the languages with the ease and understanding of an angel.
He was still the same boy who was special in heaven’s light.
Jalmari smiled. This he could do. He could reach out to the boy.
Stepping forward to reveal himself, he knelt beside the boy, pushing his wings behind him to sit in front of the child. He continued to rock.
“Little one, it is time to wake up.” And still he rocked. He tried a different path. “I must speak with you, child. Please look at me.”
Patiently, he waited for his words to reach the child. Still, he rocked. He felt the shift in the boy’s thoughts, though, and knew he was starting to reach him.
“You must be brave and strong, little one. Your sister needs you.” At this, the deep brown eyes opened, to release a floodgate of tears.
“Annie hurt. All hurt. Bobby hurt. Jalmari, why?” Those eyes pierced the angel, resetting his inner turmoil to a fever pitch. Why, indeed.
“It is the evil within this world, little one. I know this does not make sense, but evil is attracted to good. And you, and your sister, and your friends, you are all good.” He waited for the boy to digest what he had been told.
“Don’t like evil, bad things, people. Bad.” With a fervent shake of his head and soft hair, the boy looked up at Jalmari, his eyes dark in anger. The angel understood. Anger was good, the little one could use anger.
“I know, sweet child, evil is in the world. But there is still much good. Your sister . . . your friends. Your reading. So much good, too, little one.” He watched the boy, understanding there was more. When the child looked up at him again, he saw it.
“Don’t know why, Jalmari. Why Bobby say the words. Why Annie hurt bad. God not save all us. Why?” Ah. The age old question. Grown men and angels didn’t know the answer to that one.
“You know when you learned the words from your bible, and then the special words too. Do you remember it took a lot of work, a lot of planning and remembering and a lot of effort?” The boy nodded his head, eyes drinking in the angel’s message. “Sometimes God needs help in the world, He needs special people to help others. Sometimes, God needs a special kind of help that only a special kind of person can give. God needs a chosen one, a special one to help him protect this world.”
“Bobby. Jalmari say Bobby special one? Before?” The angel nodded, pleased the boy was understanding. Then he continued his story.
“He chooses well, knowing that the chosen one will need help. So he makes sure the chosen one has special friends willing to fight hard to save the chosen one. The friends must be brave and strong, just like the chosen one.”
“Annie! And Andy! Sam-mie and Dean all special friends? Yes?” The angel nodded, again pleased the boy was listening so closely.
“Now, God sends his angels to watch over the chosen one and all his special friends, but because this is a fight in this world, where the chosen one lives, the angels and even God cannot fight the battle. The special one and his friends, they must fight for God.” He watched the boy process what he said.
“God needs help?” The angel leaned forward with a smile.
“Yes, little one, sometimes even God needs assistance.” The boy’s eyes were wide as he processed this information. His mouth was frozen in a little circle before straightening out in a smile.
“You know who else needs you right now, child?” He waited for the boy’s attention. “Your sister needs you. Annie was hurt by evil, like you. She needs her brother. She needs you.”
“Bobby help Annie. Annie brave. Annie good.” Jalmari nodded.
“It is time to help your sister, little one. Wake up and help your sister.”
The angel watched as the boy faded, a thoughtful look gracing his strong face. Drawing himself up to his full height, the heavenly being shimmered and faded from sight as his head lifted to heaven in prayer.
****************************
“I don’t think I remember you, pastor.” Annie had just awoken, finding an elderly pastor sitting beside Bobby’s bed. He was watching them intently. While it was a little unnerving she wasn’t concerned, really. Just curious.
“Oh, I’m visiting the hospital today. You know, you and your brother and the others are the talk of the halls, what with all that evil man put you all through. I thought I would stop in and see if I could pray with you.” He looked her in the eye and she swore she could lose herself in the dark depths. “But you were asleep when I came in and I couldn’t wake you, so I just sat here and prayed. I hope that is okay?”
“Oh, yes. Of course, pastor. I was just surprised.” She looked carefully at the pastor, he looked familiar but she knew he wasn’t from her church. He leaned forward, his deeply etched face brightening as he met her eyes.
“I couldn’t pretend to understand, of course. But I know that fighting that kind of evil, not letting an evil man like that win, that takes a special kind of strength.” Annie snorted a small laugh.
“Oh, I’m not all that strong, pastor. I just prayed a lot. God did all the rest.” Almost all. She had a sudden flashback to that place and paled, blinking her eyes savagely to keep the tears in. “Really, I’m just a weakling. My brother is stronger than me.” She looked down at Bobby and smiled. She remembered the knife held above his small body, shimmering in the light, and the smile left her face.
A sudden pressure on her hand grabbed her attention, and she realized the elder had reached out to hold her hand, and was gazing at her with concern.
“Child, strength isn’t always about how strong you are. Sometimes it’s about how much God strengthens you.” He locked his ancient eyes with hers. “Being attacked does not make you weak, child. You survived. You fought back. And by God’s grace you won. That is strength, not weakness.”
She choked back her rebuttal, instead lowering her eyes in shame. But a soft hand held her chin and gently lifted her head up again.
“You are strong, Annabelle. God knows you are very strong indeed. You fought with the evil one. And though it may haunt you and even hurt you for some time to come, you won. You survived. Remember that, child.” She blinked at the fire within the man’s eyes. “Remember also that when you are hurting and afraid, you still have the Lord to lean on. Always.”
His hand fell away and she blinked again as he stood before her.
“Thank you, pastor.” She was grateful for the peace his words had given her. However fleeting. “Did you ever say what your name was?”
“Oh, just call me Pastor Reelaiah. God will be with you child. Do not forget it.” With that, the ancient man ambled slowly toward the door. She glanced down at her brother and looked back up to see he was already gone.
She relaxed back into the bed beside her brother, letting the pain within her body simmer for a minute before calling a nurse. A sudden movement beside her on the bed had her sitting up despite the pain, a smile growing on her face.
“Oh, Bobby. I’m so glad to see you awake, sweetie. I was so worried about you.” She reached down to pull him into a hug, but he pushed forward with his own first, almost bending her in half with the force of it.
“Annie!” His dark eyes were studying her as he pulled back from the hug. “Annie hur’?”
“Just a little sweetie. But I’ll be fine. How do you feel?” She peered into his bright eyes, shocked to see him meeting her eyes intensely. He concentrated and she could almost see the wheels turning in his little head. She smiled at him, encouraging an answer. He studied her intently for a few moments longer, starting to make her a bit uncomfortable. His eyes pierced hers the whole time. Dark, endless little eyes. Beautiful eyes.
“Annie. Bobby hurt some. But . . . Bobby help Annie. Bobby . . . Bobby . . .” He looked at her almost painfully, obviously desperate to say something important. His mouth worked silently for a moment, and then he rocked slightly, giving himself the momentum to continue. “Bobby . . . Bobby . . . Bobby loves Annie.”
There, he had spit it out. Annie stared at him wide eyed. She had never heard him speak those words before. Oh, for such a blessing. Tears coursed down her cheeks, and she smiled at her brother.
“Oh sweetie. Annie loves you too. So very, very much.” She kissed him lightly on the forehead, surprised when he didn’t groan or try to pull away. Grateful when he didn’t.
She held him close, so very grateful for small miracles.
Thank you God.
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