Disclaimer: If I owned Silas, do I have to tell you how rich I would be?
A/N: After seeing the movie and reading all the angst, I decided that this site needed something a little less depressing. R & R. It may surprise you.
Dedication: To the Lord of the Bees and the Clarineteer. Thank you for staying in touch. :)
Translation: madre- mother. Ask me if you want the rest.
Guardian Angel
She had failed him.
She had let herself lose him... had been unable to protect him... had been unable to shield him from the world... had been unable to overcome her own detestable weakness.
Even in death, she was doomed to faliure. That was the way of things.
His blood stained the grass now, as he knelt alone in the swirling mist... alone at the end.
No! It wasn't supposed to end this way! She was his guardian angel, and she had been powerless. Powerless against faith, against hatred, against the simple closed-minded cruelties of the mortal world...
A faliure.
She wanted to go to him, to brush away the years and sorrows burdening him.
Yet she was an angel, meant only to watch and to wait.
She was an angel… but then again, wasn't he?
Long ago… so very long ago…
He had stood by her, protected her, loved her…
Before he had become what he was now. Antes de la noche.
He had been her angel.
Her guardian angel.
She went to him, brushing the wet grass, stirring the mist ever so slightly. For the first time in a long time, she kissed his brow.
"¿M-Madre?"
"Sí, mi ángel," she responded, tenderly stroking his pale hair. "Estás en la casa de nuestro Padre."
A/N: Anyone who needs a translation, please ask.