God's Work
Title: God’s Work
Characters: Maya Herrera
Word count: 800
Rating: PG
Warnings: An unflattering portrayal of religious views.
Setting: Season 3, immediately following The Eclipse, Part 1.
Author’s Notes: Written for the heroes_faves Missing Scenes Fic-a-thon. Also, I rue the day that I selected Maya to write for. I wanted a challenge. Now I want to scrub my brain out with bleach.
No family. No brother. No nothing, not even her curse was Maya’s anymore. She could weep - her tears were hers now, safe, clear and colorless, but they brought her no solace and she tired of grieving for what she had lost. She took stock of what she had: a small amount of money and some forged papers provided by Pinehearst, her health, her looks and her faith. She did not even have her virtue, lost to the charlatan, Mohinder. She had been offered a position with Pinehearst. Apparently people with a direct experience of abilities were a valuable commodity. She had declined.
Now she stood outside of Pinehearst, waiting for the cab they’d called for her, trying to decide where to go and what to do with her life. She could ask to be deported back to the Dominican Republic, but there was nothing to go back to except allegations of murder - accurate and true. She thought back over the frequently bloody trail they had left on their way here. There were so many deaths. Even the momentary infliction of her power over people might have lasting consequences. Could it be characterized as an assault? Or one of these bio-weapons the US government seemed so frightened about? Where could she go and what could she do? Even stripped of her ability, her soul was still indelibly stained by it.
The taxi arrived. It had been explained to her that the driver was at her disposal - wherever she wanted to go. But that was the question - where to go? She didn’t know this country or the places in it. They were just places without meaning or context. No job, no friends. She sat in the backseat of the car while the driver waited patiently - no reason not to, as his time was already paid for. She looked through the manila envelope again, counting the money. She wasn’t entirely sure, but she didn’t think she could make it for very long on this.
I don’t know where to go, or what to do. There was one rock in her life that had always been there and always would be, no matter what. She didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to her earlier, but now she lifted her face to the driver with a hopeful smile. She knew where to go.
XXX
She must have told her story dozens of times, to scores of people. She didn’t care that most of them didn’t believe her. That didn’t bother her, because she wasn’t sure she would believe her story, if she hadn’t lived it. Many saw the link between her ability and stigmata, but for Maya the black tears would forever be evidence of the satanic and the evil inside of her. It was an ability that had been created by her wrath and perhaps even envy, maybe even tinged with lust. How many deadly sins were responsible? It was proof of her own inadequate, flawed nature and her experience of the abilities of others only reinforced her view.
So when she sat before the kindly old priest, one of the most revered members of the diocese, she confessed to him first and foremost of how her sins had birthed this monstrosity within her. She told of the evils she had committed and tolerated, she spoke of her death, of her resurrection and the expunging of the vile blackness from her soul. She laid it all out, as she had many times before. This time, though, was different, because he, too, had seen the work of Satan firsthand.
“God has sent you to us. For that I am thankful. As you say, you are not alone in suffering from this misery. There are many, many others - far too many. Unlike the government, the Church believes in the work of God. We believe in the divine. We believe in the supernatural.” He gestured around his cluttered office and Maya’s eyes picked out articles and reports of strange and unexplained phenomena. She had heard of the father’s interest in the subject, which was why he’d requested this interview with her. He nodded to himself. “You can help us find these lost souls, the ones contaminated by the devil’s blood, and help heal them, or at least mitigate the damage they might otherwise do. Your experience, Maya, was terrible, but this is your chance to lead others to the light. This is your chance to do God’s work as it was meant to be done.”
She smiled, hope filling her heart. Hope that she could bring to others the same thing that had been granted to her - a removal of her scourge, a surcease from the bizarre, freakish torment of being abnormal. The old priest smiled with her, as they were in agreement. She leaned forward, filled with curiosity about the small religious order he had mentioned earlier. “Tell me more,” she asked.