Supernatural High - Chapter 10

I don't own Supernatural

Chapter 10

Adam Milligan was sitting in his bedroom, perusing through one of his textbooks. On the third day of school, he was already having a quiz. Of course, he still had an entire night to study for it, but that didn't make it okay. It was during his "study time" that the archangel that had saved him the day before just decided to drop in.

The boy wouldn't have even heard the angel enter if it were not for the distinctive flapping of wings. And there he was – Michael was just standing there. In his bedroom. Adam nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed. "Michael?!" he said in disbelief.

Michael seemed disinterested in his reaction, and was looking around Adam's room curiously. It was a little cluttered. Baseball and basketball trophies lined a wooden shelf on the western wall, and various packs and jackets hung off the side of the shelves. Michael examined these for a moment before going to inspect Adam's dresser. A mirror was mounted over the dresser, but Michael was hardly interested in that. Instead, he looked at the various comic books and novels stacked on top of the dresser itself.

"Um," Michael said, unsure of how to react to having an archangel in his room. "Not that I'm not glad to see you—" Adam swore he saw Michael grin at this "—but what are you doing here?"

"Needed a break from my siblings," Michael replied, as if it were obvious. He continued to look around Adam's room, studying everything in it except for Adam himself. "I thought I would come visit you. Any more demon trouble?"

Adam found that strange. Michael . . . came to visit me? Why would he do that? "Um . . . no, not since you scared their pants off."

Michael smiled again. Adam liked it when he smiled.

"So they've left you alone – good. However, you might want to . . . keep your eyes open for a while, just to be sure. If you ever need help, or find yourself in jam, just pray to me. I'll be there," Michael told him. He looked at him then. Adam was nearly struck breathless by Michael's bright, crystalline-blue eyes.

"Oh," Adam said, feeling a little awkward. How was he supposed to respond to that? "Um, thanks I guess. I appreciate that you want to look out for me but . . . why?"

Michael faced him, finally giving the human his upmost attention. "I . . . do not understand," he confessed. "What do you mean 'why'?"

Adam faltered for a moment. How could he say this? "I just . . . I don't understand why you're . . . interested in me. I mean – like, not . . . interested but . . . I mean, I don't know why you care whether I live or die. No offense to you and all your siblings, but . . . angels don't exactly watch over humans the way everyone likes to think. If you did . . . wouldn't there be less death and less heartbreak?"

Michael was quiet for a long time afterwards. He seemed to be trying to think of a sufficient answer, and simply not finding one. "Adam . . ." he said resignedly. "My Father created a . . . natural order of things. There are certain things that me and my siblings are not permitted to interfere with. Really, we aren't supposed to intervene at all."

"Then why did you save me?" Adam queried. "People pray to you every day. Why did you come to me?"

Michael avoided his gaze again, and suddenly became very interested in Adam's bedroom floor. "I . . . I can't answer that."

Adam frowned. "Well, if you're not going to answer, than you can kindly get out of my room." He wasn't going to sit here and listen to some angel dance around his questions.

"Adam," Michael said. He honestly sounded . . . hurt.

"If you aren't going to tell me the truth then . . . I don't think we can be friends. I need people to be honest with me," Adam stated firmly. He stood up and squared off with the archangel boldly. "Now leave." Adam expected Michael to get furious, to scold him for being so disrespectful, or to just leave. Instead, the archangel stood there, with a confused and slightly disappointed expression.

"I have upset you. I'm sorry," Michael said stiffly. Adam wouldn't have been surprised if this was the first time Michael had ever spoken those words.

Adam scrutinized Michael for a few seconds. His heart was pounding in his chest; he hadn't realized how small his room was until now. It felt like the walls were pressing in around them, pushing the human and the angel closer together. "Just . . . please tell me," Adam said, his voice barely above a whisper. He feared that if he spoke any louder, his voice might crack, or betray his discomfort.

Michael stepped even closer; he was less than a foot away. Adam's head began to swim. He couldn't take this. He couldn't deal with it; he felt like he was going to combust. Michael's eyes tightened; the archangel seemed to be warring within himself. Finally, he spoke: "Adam, I am not supposed to be here. I am not supposed to be with any human. I was not supposed to save you. We are not . . . supposed to interfere, as I've already stated."

"Then why did you?" Adam demanded. He was getting tired of Michael avoiding the question. Why couldn't he just say it?

"Because I recognized your voice," Michael said softly. He wasn't looking at Adam anymore, but at his hands. Adam noticed that the archangel was wringing them tightly, leaving red marks on his skin. "When you were young, and you prayed to me . . . I always listened. I . . . I liked listening to your prayers. They were . . . so innocent – so honest. All you wanted was for your mother to be happy – to not have to work so hard. All you wanted was for your father to be okay. You were never selfish. You always asked me to look after your parents. You never once asked for anything for yourself. It was so . . . refreshing to hear that. And I . . . I watched over you specifically, even though I was not supposed to."

Adam stood there, rigid. Is this . . . ? No, Michael can't be saying . . .

"Angels, we . . . we aren't supposed to grow attached to humans. We aren't supposed to grow close to them, but I was drawn to you. I couldn't escape it – I couldn't break the hold you had on me. I always thought that I was . . . invincible. I thought that nothing could weaken me – nothing could ever . . . control me. And I was wrong. I am bound to you, Adam Milligan; bound in ways I cannot even begin to understand, and I have no idea why."

"Michael—"

"Don't," the archangel interrupted, putting a finger to the human's lips. Adam froze, his heart was thundering now. It was so loud he was certain that Michael could hear it. Heat flushed his cheeks, and his stomach began to flutter. Michael was moving closer and closer. His lips were an inch from Adam's . . .

"Adam!"

WHOOSH!

Michael was gone.

Adam stood there breathless, red-faced, and about ready to fall over. A few moments later, Adam's mother, Kate, opened the door. She gave Adam a quick once-over, seeming a bit perplexed by his appearance. "Are you okay?"

Unable to speak just yet, he nodded.

"Well . . . good. You're father's here. Come say hi."

Adam nodded again and watched with relief as Kate disappeared. When she was gone, he let out a sigh of relief and collapsed on his bed. The fifteen-year-old was certain that he couldn't take much more of this angel crap. Michael was going to give him a heart attack.

After a few minutes of trying to compose himself, Adam headed downstairs to greet his father. Adam never had a real relationship with his father. Adam knew from the beginning that he was an accident – completely unintended. He knew that his father, John, hadn't asked to have a kid. And yet, here Adam was. To John's credit, he did try. He could have just left, paid child support, and never showed his face. But he did come and visit. He tried to be a part of Adam's life. Kate had told him that John moved around a lot because of his work, so it was hard for him to visit. Adam accepted that, even though he wished that John could be around more.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw John standing in the entranceway. Kate was standing next to him, and they were making small talk. Adam couldn't hear what they were saying, but when he came into view, they stopped. "Hey, kiddo," John greeted him with a small smile.

Adam didn't return the friendly greeting.

"Adam, your father came all this way, aren't you going to say anything?" Kate asked.

John raised up a hand, telling her to stop. "How is school going?"

"Okay," Adam responded, not even bothering to delve into the details.

"Adam got into a very special high school," Kate relayed, clearly trying to get the father and son to at least have a conversation.

"Really?" John said, sounding genuinely surprised and pleased.

"Yeah," Adam murmured.

"What's it called?" John asked gently. It seemed like he was doing his best not to pry, but was interested in what his son was doing these days.

"Supernatural High," Adam told him flatly.

Immediately, John blanched. "What?"

"Supernatural High," Adam said again, this time sounding a bit confused.

"YOU LET HIM GO THERE?!" John roared, rounding on Kate.

"Hey!" Adam shouted, rushing down the rest of the stairs to try to get in between his parents.

"WHY WOULD YOU PUT HIM THROUGH THAT?!" John demanded.

"Because he needed to know!" Kate shouted back. "He needed to know what was out there so he can protect himself!"

John was livid, but he made no move to physically attack her. Adam was still in between them, ready to shove John away from Kate if he had to. "I like it there!" Adam suddenly piped up.

His father looked down at him with a confused expression. "What?"

"I said I like it there! I have friends that actually like me!" Adam was shouting now. For a moment, he feared that John would make him leave Supernatural High. That meant he would never see Sam again. Michael might follow him but . . . He didn't want to lose Sam, or Dean for that matter. "Sam and Dean – I sit with them at lunch! Sam's in my grade, and he's my best friend! And I am not leaving. I don't care if there are demons, and vampires, and werewolves, and all of that other crazy stuff! Because, believe it or not, I fit in there! It's the one place I've gone that I haven't felt awkward, or out-of-place. People like me – at least Sam does! And you don't have any right to tell me, or my mother what to do! You're never even here. So, before you start acting like you can dictate my life, why don't you start acting like a father!"

John just stood there, stunned. After a long time, he let out a small laugh. Adam glowered at him. "What?"

His father shook his head. "You just . . . reminded me of these two kids I know, that's all. You're a lot like them both . . ." John didn't say anymore, he just looked at Kate and sighed. "You keep an eye on him," was all he said before he walked out the door, leaving Kate and Adam standing there in bewilderment.

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