Angels

A Dresden Files fan fiction to end all fan fictions: Literally.

The Dresden Files are owned by the Scifi Channel and Jim Butcher. This is a Dresden files fan fiction based on the TV series. I was feeling a little maudlin tonight and I know it's reflected in this fiction.

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Angels:

The children were grown. Murphy had been nearly forty when they were born but that was all right. In this day and age older women having children wasn't that uncommon. And hers and Harry's children each had The Gift of magick but never acted as if they were better than their powerless half sister, Anna, Murphy's first child from her first husband. Murphy had once made a vow to never marry again but that was before she met Harry Dresden...

Now the lines of age were easy to trace over Murphy's pale gray face. She was older now than, he, Hrothbert of Bainbridge (or as everyone in this place called him, Bob) had been at the time of his death. Harry Dresden was beside Murphy, an arm tightly around her. Harry still looked as young and virile as he had been the day he met Connie Murphy. Wizards age much slower than ordinary mortals. Harry had not seemed to notice the slow withering of the woman beside him. He looked on her with the same affection that had been there at the start of their marriage.

They all looked confused. Bob, Murphy, and Harry...

The strange light poured in as of from a great opening that tore into the fabric of the room. It was brilliant and beautiful like a sun. From the light something seemed to be taking form. It was a figure of a woman with light hair and pale eyes. She wore long gown that flowed around her on a breeze no one else seemed to feel.

Bob looked enthralled and then frightened. He backed away as if terrified. 'Harry... ' He called to the wizard as if he could protect him from the woman coming toward him. He was frightened. The last time he had seen this figure she was looking at him with the anger and disdain that had replaced the love they had shared. She had not forgiven him for bringing her back.

'Who are you?' The wizard demanded. The spectre didn't seem to notice Dresden at all. Or that Hockey stick he had reached out for and now held to use at any second.

The woman was unphased. Bob was trembling helplessly. The woman was moving toward him. 'I am sorry. I am so sorry...'

'Oh.' Harry knew now who the figure was. He lowered the hockey stick.

'Harry?' Bob asked in a confused, pleading tone. All the snark that had been in his voice just that morning was now washed away.

'Have a little faith, Bob.' Harry said. 'Have a little faith.'

Faith? Bob found himself muttering the word in a questioning tone. How many times had Harry said those words to him? Those exact words haunted him. It seemed to him that Harry had said those words to him twice every twelve hours. And now they held new meaning. Bob hadn't really believed in anything for so long... How could he? How could he have faith in anything? True love had not protected him or Winifred in life. And no angel of mercy ever looked down upon him in his entire curse and damnation. He had never seen a vision to confirm if there was a God or Goddess. He had never been touched by anything that could show what was on the other side. He had made the mistake once of thinking it was something horrible and dark and bleak. He had thought it was all like that space between life and death. It was easy to believe in Hell but Heaven?

But now as he looked into Winifred's eyes he understood. He gazed into the face of a being that was completely at peace. A being filled with a divine love and compassion he had never known. She had been there once before in that warm, gentle and... good place. And he had ripped her out of there. He had torn her away from that because he had hurt to be without her and he had selfishly convinced himself that wherever she was she must have been suffering too. He could feel something from that radiant light she had emerged from and was still glowing behind her, enveloping her as if she was not emerging from the light but actually a part of that light reaching out to take him. But though she was a piece of that light, she was still Winifred. He could feel the aura that was Winifred.

And Bob finally understood. He stepped slowly toward her. She had been happy, content, a part of something greater than herself and he had robbed her of that. Robbed her and the brilliant light. Stolen her away from that brilliant light, that intelligent force of creation behind all life and matter. That thing that governed the whole universe with an innate and eternal consciousness. That thing from which all life came. He had tampered with something so great and awesome as to bruise the entire universe and worse yet he had hurt Winifred. Ripped her from that comfort and piece of being whole and returned her to the cruel, harsh existence of the living plane.

Bob finally understood. He finally believed. He had found that little bit of faith Harry was always going on about. And it devastated him. He seemed to be weeping despite the fact that his body was purely an illusion. The tears sliding down his face. He willed himself to seem to be crying. He had no other way to express what he was feeling at that moment so his entire form expressed it for him.

A soft smile spread on the woman's gentle features. She reached out for Bob. There was silence as she took the ghost's hands into her own as if he was a tangible being. He did not resist her. How could he? And he could feel the warmth of her touch. It wasn't like the warmth of physical touch. It was like heat and energy and a sense of peacefulness taking a hold on him and love, such love..

'I forgive you.' The voice was soft, soothing.

Harry and Murphy were both silent. They knew better than to speak at this moment.

There was a strange noise, like the shrieking of something that didn't actually have a voice. An echoing screeching sound. Power being dispelled and obliterated. Something far more powerful than a High Council's curse had interceded finally after so many years in the name of mercy. The skull on the small table was vibrating. Then it started to shake violently.

Harry looked worried for Bob and was about to scream but Connie was squeezing on his hand, assuring him that it was not necessary.

The old skull with the sigils and runes carved into it, that bound Bob to the physical world began to glow a bright white light. It seemed hole for a moment as the light enveloped it in a ball of white light that covered all the carvings, the sigils and runes of spirit binding. The old axe wound was briefly impossible to see, it seemed the missing fragment of skull was restored for a moment before the whole skull split in two.

'Bob!' Harry cried out without realizing he had even done it but the ghost was unharmed.

The two halves of the skull began to deteriorate, to crumble. There was only dust now and the dust was being swept away on the wind as if invisible hands were deliberately scattering the ashes of a cursed existence.

The manacle bracelets, the slave bracers on each of Bob's wrists, with the inner spokes of the third pentacle of Saturn carved into them, made a similar faint screeching sound. And then fell away with a clank. The spiritual bonds. Those cuffs that had held Bob by invisible chains to his skull were no longer spiritual restraints but tangible objects on the dusty floor. And as Harry watched the metal darkened and began to rust. The mental grew brittle and thick rust began to form as the metal withered and deteriorated until finally the rusty, unrecognizable ugly bits of metal dissolved into the wood floor.

Bob knew what this meant. He looked around in utter confusion as if he had been a blind man and was seeing for the very first time. He was free...

The woman had not let go of Bob's hands. She was moving backward toward the light, silently beckoning for her lover to come. It was finally time for him to come home...

Bob slowly nodded. He looked toward Harry as if asking for permission to go.

Harry nodded his approval, blinking back tears. 'Good bye, old friend...'

Bob looked back at Winifred and allowed her to lead him. The closer he came to the light the more profound the feeling became. A sense of belonging, a sense of peace, a sense of love and of forgiveness. It was a sense of being finally whole. A sense of being understood and of understanding. And suddenly he knew. He knew every mind and every heart. He understood the reasons and secrets. He could feel a sympathy for every living thing. Things he had never felt compassion or empathy toward now were beings to love and feel compassion toward. The sarcasm and snark would never return... That was only love.

Harry and Murphy watched quietly as the light faded away and with it all trace of Hrothbert of Bainbridge...

--

Fifty years later:

The battles were over. The war was won. Evil was defeated. The world was saved ultimately by Harry Dresden. And the final sacrifice had been made but the death of the hero was surprisingly peaceful.

And when Harry looked around the dark, cold room where his body rested, looking to be merely asleep he saw a familiar figure emerging from a brilliant light. A white haired man in a black suit...

'Come on, Harry, you mustn't be late.' Ah, that old dry whit. Harry wanted to cry at seeing him again. To hear that voice again and to know it was Bob and yet it wasn't Bob. He was changed. He was a part of something else and yet he was still the old ghost Harry knew but not a ghost now. No, something greater, something better. He almost imagined black, feathery wings folded around the suit. Or was he imagining that? Was Bob making those appear on purpose as a sign of humour? Probably 'Your father and mother are waiting...' The ghost said seriously but affectionately as he held his hand out for his old friend and the two united as all lives do with that brilliant bright thing where all life and all magick originally came from.

The End