A/N: Due to requests for more angel stories, I decided to post this older one featuring Samuel (later chapters will feature more familiar angels, like Gabriel). I hope this story will keep people happy as they wait for more updates on "Your Will, Not Mine." :) I'd love to hear some feedback!

Entertaining Unawares

Prologue

My dear brothers and sisters, as we gather once again to celebrate the day Christ was born on earth, I have been asked to tell you the story of how I received these so-called battle scars. Despite its impression, mine is not a tale of glory or valor. Nor is it a tale of grief, pain, or fear, though it certainly involves each of these.

Faith, brothers and sisters. Hope. Love. It may seem like we can barely see these virtues through the current bitterness of the Earth. But, believe me, they are there, present in the most unassuming of humans. And if it were not for one such human, I would have lost everything.

Few of us have known the privilege of conversing directly with a human—yes, I said privilege—and fewer still have spoken with one for an entire night. Gabriel has told me I am the only one he can remember who has been saved by one.

But I digress, brothers and sisters; let me start from the beginning.

Chapter 1: Battle

It was late on Christmas Eve, and Michael had assigned me to patrol a large American city. Naturally, I had wanted to be a part of the songs and celebrations to begin at midnight, but that was just my own selfish wish. There are always people in need of help, and responsibilities cannot be ignored, even on a night meant for celebration. But that did not mean I was happy about being on patrol for the sake of humans.

You see, brothers and sisters, I used to feel quite differently about our Father's little creations. To me, they were like His "pets:" simply here for His amusement. And, like a good master, He loves humankind and does not wish them to be harmed. So, like a good son, I accepted my orders, or "chores," as I considered them, without complaint.

For a while, everything flowed quite normally. I spent the first half of the night traveling the streets of the city, seeking to comfort those who were suffering. I spent an hour with my wings wrapped around a young woman as she grieved the forced loss of her innocence, and I whispered words of peace in her ear. Later, I laid my hands on a drug addict as he took his last shaking, desperate breaths, easing his pain and loneliness with my presence. Everywhere I went there were more souls in need of comfort, and I did my best to help them, as Father would have wanted.

It was getting very close to midnight when I came upon an old run-down cathedral near the edge of the city. I had stopped for a moment to pray when I suddenly heard distressed cries. I followed the sounds and came upon a weeping woman in the middle of the street a block away from the church.

As I approached, I saw that something was terribly wrong. One of the fallen ones had his smoldering arms wrapped around the woman, and the creature was whispering maliciously in her ear as she wailed in sorrow. The demon's boldness sent a stab of terror through my body.

I hesitated for a moment; I hadn't expected to do battle on this night, and was thus unarmed. But, just as no decent human could condone the senseless torture of an animal, I could not possibly stand aside as a demon ravaged one of my Father's creations.

With my courage sufficiently gathered, I rushed forward and pulled its foul body off of her. The creature instantly turned on me and tore stripes into my arm with its claws as I pulled it aside. Seconds later, we were locked in battle. I dodged several of its swipes before managing to land one powerful strike on its chest, and I felt its bones crack beneath my fist. The demon screeched and fell at my feet, begging for mercy. Thinking I had won, I foolishly lowered my guard.

Do not forget, brothers and sisters, that demons are cunning creatures. They will use any trick to get the upper hand in a fight. My mistake was about to cost me dearly.

In the blink of an eye, the demon vanished from my sight, and I suddenly felt its filthy claws probing my back. Before I could react, it had grabbed my right wing. I heard a deafening snap, and I screamed in pain and rage. With my fury unleashed, I slammed my elbow into its head with all my strength. The demon fell back, appearing defeated, but it paused to give me a malevolent grin before it disappeared for good.

I staggered back in shock at what had just happened. A demon had broken one of my wings. This was exactly what Michael warned us about in training: "Protect your wings at all costs, for they are your freedom and your glory," he always says. I knew that I should have been more careful, and the guilt of failing my Captain hurt nearly as much as my wound. But I cannot think of anything that could hurt more than my wing did that night.

All of my thoughts and concerns for the woman I had saved disappeared as the pain brought me to my knees. I looked over my shoulder to assess the injury and was sickened by the sight. The bone of the topmost joint was completely broken and had torn through my flesh, staining my white feathers with crimson blood. I knew I would need a skilled healer to mend such a wound. But first, I had to return Home.

Spreading my wings caused nothing but intense pain, so I began to call out to my brothers and sisters for help. I called to them as loudly as I could, with all the strength I could muster, but it was hopeless. It was midnight, and the songs and shouts of joy ringing out from Home were deafening. My distressed cries were completely drowned out. I was stranded on Earth, defenseless and unable to fly. I would to have to wait for my brethren to come looking for me.

There was only One left who could hear me.

Please, Father! I need help!

I bowed my head and my tears fell to the hard pavement. The pain and loneliness were too much for me to bear.

Then, a very strange thing happened. The woman I had completely forgotten about approached me. Remember, brothers and sisters, we are not to directly show ourselves to humans. In my weak and distressed state I had unwittingly let myself cross onto the mortal plane, and I discovered that she could see me.

She touched me on the shoulder with a gentle hand, and I pulled away in fear. I tried desperately to cross back over, but I was not strong enough. I was trapped.

"Are you hurt?" the woman asked as she brushed away the tears that reddened her lined face.

I had never directly conversed with a human before, but it did not look like I had a choice.

"My wing…" I began, slowly, stupidly.

"You mean your arm?" The woman nodded. "It looks pretty torn up," she said, inspecting the lacerations on my right forearm. I then realized that my wings were invisible to her; I had forgotten that our wings could never be seen by humans.

The woman knelt down, pulled off the cotton scarf she was wearing, and wrapped it several times around my arm.

"What happened? Do you remember?"

"I was…helping someone," I said, carefully. I winced in pain.

"Sorry! I'll try to be careful," the woman said, apologetically, as she continued to wrap up my arm.

Truly, I could barely feel the injuries to my arm; the searing pain of my broken wing was too strong. I embarrassedly wiped the tears from my face with my other hand, hoping the woman had not seen them. I was doing quite a poor job of representing my family.

"There, that will at least slow down the bleeding. Shall I call you a cab to the hospital? You should probably get some stitches," she said.

"That is not necessary," I said, cautiously standing up. "I would rather not go to a hospital."

She laughed at that, but there was no humor in her tone.

"You men are all the same. My son was just like you; he hated hospitals." Her expression became distant as she thought about her son, and I could tell that her fond memories were veiled with a deep sorrow. This was what she had been crying about. I felt a strange need to comfort her.

I took a step closer to her and stumbled. I could barely keep my balance with one wing hanging limp.

"Hold on there, young man," the woman said, throwing her arms out to steady me. I laughed inwardly at her words; she had no idea how old I really was.

"I am fine, thanks for your help. You should go home now," I said. Of course I was not fine, but how could I explain what was wrong with me? The pathetic woman was shivering, and, now that the demon was gone, she needed sanctuary.

"I won't leave you out in the cold in your condition. Please, will you at least come to my apartment so I can make sure you're okay?" she asked. Her still-puffy eyes had a strange desperation to them.

I did not know how to respond. Michael had always told us to call for help if we were wounded and immobile, but that was not working. There was no instruction for what to do in a situation like this. All I knew was that I did not want to be alone. I came to a decision.

"If that is what you want, I will go with you," I said. After all, the company of a human was better than none at all. I was confident that the others would realize I was missing. I just had to wait for them to come find me.

"Good," she said, sounding relieved. She smiled and offered her hand.

"My name is Mary."

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please share your thoughts!

-Samuel