A Life No One Could Touch
Another one-shot, or two-shot. It depends. It's more than one and less than five, I know that for sure. I watched the first episode of this new season and I love the new character. But, I don't know anything about his vessel, so I'm creating a backstory. It's what I do. And he somehow fits into where I wanted my verse of the show to go. If you haven't seen any of the new season, I guess you could say this has some spoilers.
Summary: I pause to think about what I am praying for. I know, I've asked for it before in my heart, but tonight is the first time I've actually said it out loud.
Disclaimer: I own the idea behind this story and the characters that you've never heard of before. But they were introduced in my stories 'The Minor Fall and the Major Lift' and 'What's Really Going on Below'. The title is a lyric from the song 'Prayer of the Refugee' by Rise Against.
I sigh and fold up the newspaper that I'm reading. Another death. Another hunter death. I recognize his name from the databases that I try to keep up with.
I know that the war is coming if it isn't already here, and I'm disappointed that I can't do anything to help the cause. I had given up the hunt long before my first kill.
I was not so gently thrown into this lifestyle when my brother was possessed and almost died as we tried to get it out of him. At the end of it all, he came out of it a lot better than I did. As much as I wanted to ignore that it happened, I knew I had to do something with my knowledge. But unlike my brothers, sister, mother, and father, it wasn't as easy for me to pick up a gun and knife and abandon normalcy to go around the country taking on anything and everything evil.
I thought that they would've stopped or at least taken a step back when my mother, and me almost died when a demon stabbed my mom, then me because he knew that he had to kill us before we killed him. It happened in our home. My mom was put into and is still in a coma, and I was in one for nearly a week because of blood loss. While my family thought that it would've been a better reason for me to take up a knife, it gave me more of a reason not to. I couldn't watch another person I care for get hurt.
So I help the way I think I can without having to worry about someone having to die as collateral damage. By doing research, tracking, and First Aid. And although at this time it doesn't seem like much, I pray. Now, when it seems ridiculous to have faith, I make it my goal to pray at least once a day.
I know that God won't abandon us especially in our time of need.
I step out of my car, still dressed in my work attire, slip my keys into my pants pocket, and head toward the chapel. I open the door and see only two people in it. They look like brothers, maybe even twins. And they look young. I feel proud every time I see younger people in a church praying when they would rather be out having fun. But they are here and I hear them talking, maybe praying in another language. It sounds like Latin.
I walk to the front of the church to light a candle for another soul lost in this endless fight. The boys' Latin still echoes in the chapel. After my candle is lit, I walk to the pew, take my trench coat off, put it behind me, and kneel. I slip the rosary from around my neck and hold a bead between my fingers.
"In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sanctii. Amen," I say as I make the sign of the cross. The boys prayer stop. I wait for the sound of footsteps, but I hear nothing. I continue to pray.
"Pater noster, qui es in caelis,
sanctificetur nomen tuum.
Adveniat regnum tuum.
Fiat voluntas tua,
sicut in caelo et in terra.
Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie,
et dimitte nobis debita nostra sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris.
Et ne nos inducas in tentationem sed libera nos a malo.
Amen."
I sigh, then I hear the boys start praying again. They never pray together, only alternating lines. It sounds like they are carrying a conversation in another language. I am in aw of how beautiful it sounds. I pull myself away from my admiration of them and continue to pray. "Dear Heavenly Father, give me a strength to be a part of this fight." I pause to think about what I am praying for. I know, I've asked for it before in my heart, but tonight is the first time I've actually said it out loud. "I know that I have a part to play in this fight, and I hope that somehow you can use me." I sigh and wipe a tear from my eye. "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be. World without end. Amen."
Then I think to pray for the soul lost. "Don't pray for him," someone says to me as if he is reading my mind.
I turn around and see the two boys, twins, closer to me than they were a few minutes ago. I didn't even realize that they moved. "He doesn't need your prayers," one of them says. I don't know if it was the same person who spoke the first time.
"How do you know who I'm praying for?" I ask.
"We know a lot of things," the other brother says.
"Like what?" I ask. I'm not suspicious, just curious.
"That you have three brothers, and one sister."
"That your mother is in a coma."
"That your faith is strong even at a time when it's hard to come by."
"That you and your family have different opinions on dealing with good and bad in the world."
"That you know of the oncoming battle and want to be able to do something for the side of good."
"That you're a hunter."
"But you don't like to hunt."
"Okay, that's enough," I say, stopping the revealing of the rest of my life. "How?" I ask.
"God told us."
I nod. All of the information was correct, and my family has kept a low profile, so there was no way that they could have found out. "You believe? Just like that?" one of them ask.
"Who am I to doubt you? You haven't given me a reason not to," I say. I trust them. If they wanted me dead, I already would be.
"So much trust," the same boy says.
"That's all I have," I say. "Especially in this time of fighting. I can't pick up a gun or a knife. I can't take a life. All I feel I can do is pray."
"You have so much faith," the other replies.
"I wish I could do more," I say before I realize what is coming out of my mouth.
"You hear that, Rafe? He wishes he could do more," the one who spoke most recently says.
"I heard him, Gabe," the other brother replies. Rafe and Gabe are their names. Close to the names of the Archangels. "We aren't angels," Rafe says. He has more gentleness in his voice than his brother.
"Saperes," Gabe says before I can even think of the next question.
"Wise ones?" I ask. I've read about them, I just didn't expect them to look so… young. "How do you have all your senses?" I ask. They aren't supposed to, but here they are looking at me, speaking to me, and obviously listening to me.
"All three of us are on this plane," Rafe says.
"Our sister is off on a mission."
"And you two?"
"We have our own mission," Rafe states.
I look at them, not saying a word. I wonder if their mission has to do with me. And again, as if they have read my mind, they both nod. "What can I do?"
Rafe steps up to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. "You still have so much faith," he says. "Even in the midst of all of this." I can feel the differences between the two brothers.
"Someone needs to have faith in this fight."
"That is why you were chosen," Gabe says.
"Chosen?"
"Castiel chose you as his vessel," Rafe says softly.
Castiel. "Let him use me," I say. "I asked to be a part of the coming battle somehow."
"Do you know what you are agreeing to?" Rafe asks. He sounds like he's wary of the entire situation.
"I don't need to. God has work for me to do."
"So you agree?" Gabe asks.
"I've prayed for this," I say.
"We know," they say together.
"You know that your body might die," Rafe says. It's almost like he is trying to give me one last chance to change my mind.
"My body may, but not my spirit," I say. I hope it's enough for him to know that I'm ready for whatever is to come.
"But your family?"
"We're all going to die being a part of this fight somehow. And if this is my destiny, then I can't change it."
"You aren't like the rest of your family."
"I don't know if that is a compliment or not." A breeze blows through the chapel causing every candle in it to flicker.
"It is," Rafe replies, not noticing the breeze like I did.
Wings. I hear the sound of wings behind me. It's so loud and it sounds like there is an eagle behind me. The wings are beating in rhythm with my heart pounding in my chest. All of the lights and candles go out in the chapel, but I can see and feel a light behind me and I want to look at it.
But the brothers put their hands on my shoulder to keep me in my place. "Do not turn around," they say simultaneously.
"Why not?" I ask.
The two brothers fall to one knee in front of me. "Welcome to this plane, Castiel," Gabe says.
The boys stand up together as I fight the urge to turn around. They each put a hand on my shoulder again and look at me. "Are you sure about this?" Rafe whispers to me.
I nod, words escape me for a moment. There is an angel behind me and I can't do anything to catch even a glimpse of it. Castiel. I wonder what he needs me for. "I'm ready," I say, giving them the assurance they need to do what they need to do.
Before I'm able to form another thought, they each have a hand on my forehead and say something. And it becomes hard to keep my eyes open, not because I'm tired, but because I feel a pressure weighing down on me. I feel myself falling to my knees and I can't do anything about it.
"Do not fight it," I hear the boys say. Then they continue to speak in the language that I can't understand.
I feel a cloud of warmth surround me and I'm so comforted by it that I can't help but to just relax. The boys' whispers get softer and softer. Then they stop. And all there is, is silence.
Okay, so I have a confession to make. I was going to write this story in present tense, because I wanted to try something new. But it proved to be a lot more difficult than I thought, especially without someone to read over my work. So I changed it to past tense, but then I changed it back because thought the story was more effective in the present tense. I know, I'm horrible. Well, here is part one. I think that this story will be three parts, maybe four. Well, thanks to everyone for reading. Please review. Lil-Rock
The Latin Translation.
The Lord's Prayer.
Our Father, who art in heaven
hallowed by Thy name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done,
On earth, as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread
and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
Amen.
