"He told you he was from where?"

Father gazed at Mouse incredulously.

""He said - he -fell from-Heaven." Mouse replied uncertainly, tossing his hair out of his worried eyes.

Father rolled his eyes and helplessly threw up his hands. "And he is now down here among us. He's probably a psychopath or lunatic something. Fell down from Heaven indeed."

Peter, the kindly doctor from Above, walked down the steps from the hospital chamber to where Father and Mouse stood in frustrated stance. "Take it easy on the boy, Jacob. It is what the man claims. He has spoken of nothing else except someone named Chester, and praying to the Almighty, since I began working on him."

Father rubbed his face with a calloused hand and sighed in frustration. "We really do have a lunatic on our hands, Peter."

Peter chuckled and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Somehow, I don't think so, Jacob. It is the Christmas season, and -after all - anything is possible."

Father frowned. "Oh, come now, Peter. You don't actually believe him?"
Peter smiled kindly, a knowing sparkle in his elderly face. "Christmas is a time for magic, Jacob. don't tell me you have forgotten it after all these years."

"Well, I have not forgotten it, but I also know how to keep a grasp on reality. Unlike some people." Father glanced at Mouse pointedly. Peter laughed again.

"Oh, calm down, Jacob. It could be a touch of delirium from his injuries. He seems to have a great deal of trouble seeing, and has some facial bruising and scrapes, and has sustained several broken ribs, a fractured knee, and a pretty good knock on the head." Peter's elderly face took on a grave, worried expression that Jacob caught quickly.

"What is it, Peter? What else is there?"

The kindly physician shook his head. "Jacob, I may be going out on a limb, but it looked as if he had fallen off the roof of that old warehouse."

Jacob raised his eyebrows. "Well, there you go. That is what happened and he is just delirious about it and thinks he fell from heaven."

Peter shook his head. "No, his injuries are more extensive than what that small of a fall would do to him. It looks like he hit the roof face first then fell off of it. He didn't appear to have fallen on his face on the ground. He was too out of it to have turned over."

Jacob sighed and shook his head. It was getting more confusing by the second.

Jason awoke with a barely suppressed groan upon his lips. He felt as if every bone in his body were broken into a million small fragments, but as he lifted his left arm slightly, he realized that it couldn't be all that bad if he could move his limbs. His eyes could barely make out dimly lit walls around him that appeared to be made of stone. Used to a much brighter, cleaner environment, Jason found from 10 seconds of attempting to see everything about him that he didn't know anything about Earth after all. "Should have paid more attention to Chester." he groaned to himself. He attempted to move his legs, but found one of them bandaged up and intense pain shot through it as well as his ribs when he started to sit up. his shirt was gone and replaced with bandaging wrapped tightly around his torso. Stinging pain when he moved told him they were probably cracked. A gentle hand laid on his bare shoulder, pushing him down, and a kind voice spoke.

"Easy there. Father, he is coming to."

The voice that broke into Jason's reverie instantly calmed him, and he found that he knew the speaker. "Vincent?" He spoke in a raspy voice, muddled by the morphine Peter had given him. "Vincent? Oh, good. Someone I know." And he fell back again unconscious.

Father rushed into the white curtained room, his quick pace slowed by Vincent's upheld hand. "Easy, Father, he has collapsed again."

Peter poked his head around the curtain as well. "That is to be expected with his head injury. He will fade in and out for a few days, maybe even a week or a month. We have no way of knowing for sure."

Jacob frowned at Peter and turned to Vincent. "Did he say anything, son?"

Vincent's face was twisted into an expression that no one could quite decipher. It was a long moment before he spoke. "He said that he knew who I was and called me by name."

The blank stares that he received mirrored that of his own.

"I did not tell him my name."

Father shook his head. "He must just me messed up from his injuries, Vincent. Keep an eye on him while I see Peter out. Mary will come by with blankets. We will have to move him to a bedroom chamber when he is better, but best to keep him here for now. Mouse, will you see to it that no one comes in here?"

The young man ducked his head in response, a simple nod that Father understood. As he walked past the young man, Father patted his shoulder, a gentle apology for his outburst earlier. Mouse laid his hand over the bigger, stronger one for a brief second in acknowledgement and walked up the stairs to stand by the door. He watched the sleeping figure with an intense gaze that Vincent couldn't figure out.

"He called your name."

Mouse finally spoke in a quite tone that Vincent had never heard him use. Vincent nodded. "Yes. He did."

"Do you believe he is an angel, Vincent?"

Vincent looked up quickly at that question to gaze at the calm boy, his eyes fixed on the sleeping figure, his face shaded by his mop of hair, but his mouth twisted into that expression he made when he was unsure and thinking very hard.

Vincent sighed and pulled the blanket over the still figure. "Who knows the truth, Mouse. The right thing to do is keep your heart and mind open to possibilities and treat this man just like we would anyone else. He is definitely mortal and needs time to heal."

Mouse nodded, and leaned against the door frame, planting his heels in such a way as to indicate he was going to be keeping watch for some time.

Catherine hurried up to the quite drain in the park, glanced both ways, and quickly entered. It wasn't long before she was hurrying through the tunnels to the hospital chamber. Father met her there. Noting her worried expression, he stopped her, grasping her arms in his hands. "Catherine, are you okay?"

She stopped walking and gazed at him as if in a trance. "I-I must talk to Vincent. I must see him."
Father took her hand and led her toward the stairway. "He is up there, go quietly, because we have a patient that he is sitting with and he must not be disturbed."

He noted the look of fear when he said Vincent was in the hospital chamber, and the look faded when he explained Vincent's purpose there. Catherine smiled gently and nodded. "Thank you, Father."

She quickly climbed the stairway, pushing aside the white curtain at the top to find Vincent sitting beside a quietly sleeping young man who looked like he had met a subway train head on. Vincent looked up when she entered.

"Catherine! Are you well?"

She stepped just inside the door, subconsciously pulling her jacket around her body. If she could have seen her disheveled expression, she would have understood his concern. Pale cheeks and lips, windblown hair, mud on her shoes from a quick careless run through the park. Vincent stood and came to stand at her side. "Catherine?"

She finally looked away from the young man and looked up to Vincent's worried face.

"Oh, I am fine, Vincent, just came quickly. I had to see you. I had to!"

Vincent took her in his strong arms and spoke quietly. "Come here. You have had a fright, Catherine. I felt a disturbance in the bond, but you shut me out."

She clutched him closer and nodded. "I was afraid he would see you if you came."

"He?"

Catherine pulled away to look up into the dark face and shook her head. "Vincent, I had a visit from a man named Lucifer."

At the mention of that name, the young man immediately sat up. An immediate onslought of pain overloaded his senses, and he collapsed back down. Vincent rushed to his side. "No, no you must stay still," he chided kindly.

The young face was still unconcious, but the voice spoke weakly, his head tossing from side to side. "Lucifer must not find me. He must not! I must get back. I have to get back! Chester!" And he fell silent again.

Catherine, who had moved closer to the bed, and Vincent's eyes met. His were concerned, her's were knowing.

"Catherine?"

She motioned for him to follow her, and they stepped beyond the white curtain.

"Vincent, today a man who called himself Lucifer came to the DA's office. Said he was the manager of an insane asylum in Albany. Said that yesterday, a young man escaped and hopped a cab and they lost him, but he was able to track him here. Said he has an 'angel' complex and thinks that he has been sent to protect someone. He didn't say who, but I just got a bad feeling from this guy. I am sure I saw him following me when I left the DA's office and headed home, but I lost him on the way there, because the traffic was really bad and I used all the secret shortcuts. I came here as soon as I was sure it was safe."

Vincent frowned and paced for a moment.

"Catherine, if you see that man again, find out all you can and we will see what happens when our friend wakes up. I think we may be caught up in a supernatural battle of worlds."

Thank you all so much for your continued support! There is a lot of insanity going on with getting ready for the holidays! I am going to try to get this done in the next week, if I can keep it all together! It is almost Christmas time around here, so definitely stay tuned! Appreciate the reviews! You are all amazing! Any guesses on where this is going...