Chapter 3

The Chapel was conveniently near the ICU and well-marked, so Cole had no trouble finding it. Jess was alone inside the large room, kneeling in a pew with her head bowed and her hands clasped in front of her face. Cole silently entered the room and waited, not wishing to disturb her when she seemed to be praying. He looked curiously around the room as Jess prayed. It was his first time inside of a human place of worship.

Mel had explained some of the rudiments of a religion called Christianity to him, explaining that is was probably the most commonly followed religion in the country, but that there were many others as well and Christianity itself was divided into many sub-groups. Cole could not recall who had been more confused by the end of the conversation, himself trying to make sense of an alien creed or Mel barraged with questions from him as he tried to make sense of the tenets of the faith.

From Mel's explanation, he recognized many of the trappings. A cross, the symbol of the faith. Several copies of a book called the Bible which the religion was based on. An altar where religious services were performed. Pictures with what he assumed to be religious themes. A gentle-looking man with a beard and dressed in a white robe was a recurrent figure. Mel had told Cole about him as well. Jesus, the religion's prophet and savior. Cole smiled as he examined one of the pictures. It was obscurely calming. He would have liked to know this man.

"Oh, Cole," Jess' soft voice interrupted his reverie. "How long have you been here?"

"Not very long, Jess," he told her with a gentle smile, moving to sit next to her. "Vic wanted some time alone with Mel and I wanted to see how you are doing."

She gave a little shrug. "I honestly don't know, Cole. I feel awful about not going to see Mel…"

He gently slid one arm around her shoulder in the accepted human gesture of comfort. "How is Isabel, Jess? Have you talked to her?"

"Yeah, just a few minutes ago." Jess nodded and leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder, grateful for the gesture. Cole was not, as a rule, a physically demonstrative man. "She's a lot better already. Responding really well to the antibiotics."

Cole smiled brightly. "That means that Mel will as well, doesn't it, Jess?"

"Not necessarily, Cole," she sighed. "People are different and I guess it's never really the same with a disease like this."

Cole nodded, absorbing this, and wrapped his other arm around Jess as well. "Don't worry, Jess. Mel is a strong woman. She'll be fine. I know she will."

Jess sighed and edged a little closer, leaning into the embrace.

"Is Mel a religious woman, Jess?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head. "Not really, Cole. I mean, she used to kind of be, but I don't think she's been inside a church once since her grandmother died."

"Like you?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Jess blinked. After his guess about her mum last night, she was not even going to bother being surprised that he knew that she had not been inside a church since her death. "Yeah, Cole, just like me." She shook her head. "Guess it's selfish of me to find religion at a time like this…"

"It is not selfish, Jess," Cole assured her, holding her close. "It's natural. At times like these, we need our faith, not because we expect favors from our gods, but because we need to understand that we are not alone."

She glanced up at him, thoughtful. "How'd you get so wise, Cole?"

"I am not a young man, Jess," he pointed out gently. "I have experienced a life-time. When you are my age, people your age will think of you as wise, too."

"Yeah." Jess sighed and nodded, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "It's sometimes easy to forget that you're old enough that you could be my father."

Cole smiled faintly. He knew that Jess did not think he was particularly bright. It was an understandable assumption. But she was right about one thing. Although his daughter would still be a teenager by human standards, if he had married at the age at which many Cirronians did, he could easily have had children her age or even a few years older. Thinking carefully of how humans kept track of age, he realized that he could quite easily have had a child older than Mel if he had not waited so long to marry. Amazing. It made him wonder where the years had gone. It made him feel old, tired.

"Mel was… is a Christian, Jess?" he asked.

"Well, yeah." Jess nodded and looked up at him again. "Why?"

"I was just wondering which gods to address my prayers for her recovery to," he explained absently.

Jess blinked and stared up at him. "Um… which ones do you… typically pray to, Cole?" she asked quietly.

Aware that the names would mean nothing to her, Cole tried to explain, "A feminine originating life-force and a masculine one, Jess." He shrugged. "And such others as the occasion requires. Today, to Mel's." Smiling at her, he slid to his knees and closed his eyes, holding his hands parallel to each other a few inches in front of his chest so that they did not touch.

Jess frowned. "Cole, wouldn't it be better to pray to… well, to whomever you normally pray to?"

Cole opened his eyes and frowned up at her, shaking his head. "I think it is best to pray to the deities that watch over Mel. Mine may not be aware of her."

She shook her head. "Just the one, Cole. Mel just looks to the one."

Cole frowned. "I don't understand, Jess. There is the one she calls God and also the one she calls Jesus. Is that not correct?"

Jess blinked. "Well, when you put it like that…" She shook her head. "No. They're one in the same, Cole. Just… different aspects."

"Oh." He nodded his understanding. "Thank you, Jess." Smiling up at her for a moment, he closed his eyes again and resumed his interrupted prayer.

Jess watched curiously as Cole began quietly chanting in a foreign language. She knew, of course, that English was not his first language, but she was surprised all the same. She would never have suspected Cole capable of producing those beautiful, fluid, breathy sounds. The words 'Melanie Irene Porter' were distinguishable more than once, but nothing else. The other words seemed to meld and flow into each other, almost like a living entity in her mind, as if Cole was just a conduit for them, channeling or speaking in tongues. Except that he clearly was not. She could see the concentration on his face and could tell that he was choosing his words with meticulous care in spite of the seemingly effortless way he was producing the sounds. She watched and listened, entranced and strangely calmed.

Cole tuned out the young woman's presence, his entire attention focused on framing an appropriately eloquent appeal to Mel's God. He had chosen Cirronian because his English was still lacking and he wanted to miss nothing. He enlarged on everything about Mel that made her worthy of another day of living. Her strength and bravery and quiet compassion. Her understanding and insightful nature. Her warrior's spirit and desire to help those around her. The men and women who loved her, whose lives her existence had touched. How this world would be a little colder and a little darker without her in it. When he had finished his appeal in Cirronian, he abandoned his native tongue in favor of her own.

"Guard your daughter, Melanie Irene Porter, from harm. Now and forever," he finished simply.

"That was really beautiful, Cole," Jess told him gently, squeezing his shoulder.

"I hope it was appropriate," he said, returning to a seat.

"My mum always used to say that, with prayer, it doesn't matter much about the words you use. What matters is that it comes from the heart."

He nodded. "It came from my heart and my soul," he told her quietly.

"Then it was appropriate." Jess smiled weakly at him, sighing. Shaking her head, she leaned into his arm again. "Damn it, Cole, what are we going to do?" she whispered, her eyes swimming with tears.

He closed his eyes, wrapping his arms the young woman. "I don't know," he whispered, cradling her against his chest.

"She can't die, Cole. She just can't!" Jess groaned, crying.

He gently hushed the distraught woman, rocking her. He ignored his own tears, focused on hers. "Mel is a strong woman, Jess, a fighter. You must have faith."

"Bugger faith!" Jess snapped, shaking her head violently and pulling away. "Fat lot of good faith did me and my mum when she was in one of these places getting the life drained out of her!"

"I know, I know," he whispered, gathering her back into his arms and holding her against his chest, ignoring her attempts to pull free.

She may not have wanted comfort right now, but she needed it. He remembered pushing away Kallissa, one of his closest friends, rebuffing her attempts to comfort him after he had found the bodies of Nallia and Ashi. He had not wanted that comfort, but he had needed it. He remained silent until she stopped trying to pull away, holding her and rocking her and crooning gently as she cried herself out. She lay still against his chest and he continued holding her.

"I never thought I would have faith again, Jess, after Nallia and our daughter were taken from me," he told her gently after several minutes. "I needed it worse in those first days than I ever had in my life, but I refused to allow myself to feel it."

"What changed? What gave you your faith back?" she asked quietly, never taking her face out of his chest.

"Mel."

She looked up at him, startled. "Mel?" she repeated.

He nodded and explained, "Mel gave me back many things that were lacking. Faith, Hope, Joy… she let me feel again, Jess. Just…" He shook his head. "It's hard to explain, Jess, but there was something in her that… filled some void. I'm sorry I can't explain better."

"You don't have to." Jess shook her head and rested her cheek against his chest again, needing that comfort. "I was feeling a lot of the same things when I met Irene, Mel's grandmother. After that, it was like I wasn't alone any more. I mean… I've never been in want of friends, Cole, but at the same time I always felt kind of lonely. Does that make sense?"

"It does, Jess." Cole sighed. "And now your last link to Irene is sick."

"Right." Jess sighed. "And I'm too much of a bloody coward to go see her!" The tears were back, but she did not care one bit. "Just like with Irene…" She shook her head, feeling miserable in body and spirit.

"You couldn't bring yourself to visit Irene either?" Cole asked gently.

"Once. I visited her once, but I… I couldn't go back, Cole." She shook her head, her shoulders sagging. She hated herself right now, worse than she had when Irene had died.

"I understand."

Jess cursed softly, burying her face in his chest. " She was so full of life, Cole. Then she got sick and it was suddenly gone…" In her own mind, she was not sure if she was speaking of her mother, Irene Porter, or Mel.

"It's scary, horrifying." Cole nodded his understanding. "When Mel came to my room last night, sick and weak… I was too scared to think straight. She had to tell me to bring her to this place… But she was so weak." He bit his lower lip as he had seen both Mel and Jess do on occasion to fight tears. "She's still weak. I… you aren't alone in your fear, Jess. I feel it, Vic feels it…" He sighed and gently cupped her face in his hand, tenderly forcing her chin up. "There's no shame in what you feel, Jess," he whispered, brushing her hair out of her face. "You must understand that, Jess. Fear is a natural part of being alive. No one is ever entirely free of it."

"Somehow that knowledge isn't make this much easier, Cole," she sighed.

"No. It never does." He shook his head gently. "You feel bad right now because you want to go see Mel, Jess."

"I know. I want to see her, I do. I just can't." She shook her head.

"You must try, Jess, or you will continue to feel bad," Cole counseled. He gently caressed her throat. "The only person who can make you do this is you, Jess. I am here for you if you need support, but it is ultimately yours."

"I'm scared, though." She shook her head. "All those memories and…"

"I know. I know you are," he whispered, gathering her into his arms again. He sighed deeply. "There's a wound inside of you, Jess. It's been there for a long time now. Allow it to heal. You're in a hospital. There's no better place for the healing of wounds."

Jess closed her eyes and nodded. "No, guess not."

"Just think about it, Jess." He smiled gently at her. "In the meantime, I think Isabel could probably use some company. I saw her this morning before you came. She's awake and much stronger. She's going to get better, Jess."

"I know. I was in there before I brought Vic up." She nodded. "It was not easy, going in to see her," she admitted.

"It was a start, Jess," he told her encouragingly. "It may eventually make the rest easier."

"Yeah, guess so." Jess nodded. "Isabel's a sweetie, you know. And she feels so awful about Mel getting sick."

"She needs comfort," Cole said gently. "She needs to know that she is not alone."

Jess nodded and rose, sighing deeply. "You're right, Cole. If nothing else, it'll take my mind off of things."

Cole smiled up at her, rising as well and walking with her to the door of the chapel. "That, too, Jess. I'll talk to you soon. If you need anything at all, you know where to find me. You don't have to come into the room if you'd rather not. Just send a nurse in to tell me that you require me."

Jess nodded, then quickly hugged him. "Thank you, Cole. For everything."

He nodded, gently returning the hug before releasing her and walking her to Isabel's room. He lingered for a few minutes, greeting Isabel and exchanging a few words before excusing himself and returning to the ICU. Looking through the glass, he saw that Vic was still with Mel. It looked like he was praying, too, so Cole sat in the waiting area, not wishing to disturb him. He looked up as a woman in a suit with dark skin and hair exchanged a few words with a nurse. The woman nodded and looked into Mel's room as she passed it. She bit her lower lip and shook her head, her expression pained. Sighing, she walked to the waiting area and sat down.

"Are you here to see Mel?" Cole asked her quietly. She was faintly familiar but not, he thought, a Watchfire regular. "Detective," he added, noticing the badge clipped to her belt and the shoulder-holster under her jacket.

She looked up at him, shaking her head. "No, I'm here to see Detective Bruno," she told him in a low voice. "He was pretty upset when he heard she was sick. I thought he might need a ride home when he was done with her." She hesitated. "How is she?"

Cole sighed. "Still unconscious. There is still a chance that she may not recover."

"Shit," she murmured, shaking her head. "I'm… I'm sorry, man."

He nodded an absent acknowledgment of this. "It's good that you are here to bring Vic home," he said finally. "He seemed very upset when we spoke earlier."

"I don't think upset begins to describe it. He's in there praying a fu… a Rosary." Knowing what she knew about her partner, that told her that he was well beyond very upset. She shook her head and gave Cole a wan smile.

Cole smiled back. He opened his mouth to speak again, when the door to Mel's room opened.

"Hello, Vic," Cole greeted him.

"Cole. Mar?"

"Hey, partner." She rose and approached him slowly.

"What are you doing here?" Vic asked, surprised by her presence.

"Thought I'd come see how you were handling things," she told him, walking over to him and gently resting one hand on his shoulder.

"It was nice to meet you," Cole told her, smiling. "Vic, let me know if there's anything you need."
"Yeah, thanks, Cole." He nodded and watched Cole return to Mel's room.

"That was Cole Hauser?" Maria asked, bemused. "The 'nut job'?"

"Don't start," Vic suggested, shaking his head. "Not in the mood, Mar."

Her smile faded completely, replaced by an apologetic expression. "No, guess you're not. Come on. I'll drive you home. Or we can stop by the Cathedral."

"Saw the Rosary?" he guessed.

"Yeah, my friend, I saw it. Come on. We'll light some candles and pray one together."

"I appreciate it, Mar."

"Hey, that's what friends are for. We might just save your soul yet," she teased.

"Yeah, that'll happen." Vic could not help but be amused by her words. His lapsed Catholicism was something of a running joke with them.

She shook her head, knowing full well that what he lacked in the regularity of his attendance at Mass he more than made up for in raw faith, whether he knew it or not. Cops pretty much had to be, in her experience, either suicidal or faithful. There was not a lot of wiggle-room in a job like theirs. Like many fellow cops, Vic was faithful and spiritual but not dreadfully religious. Maria could understand that, but it did not stop her from teasing him about it. Teasing, though, had a time and a place. If ever Vic had not needed Maria's teasing, now was that time.

"Tell you what," she suggested gently. "We'll light some candles, pray a few Rosaries, and then I'll take you out and get you drunk. How's that sound?"

"That sounds absolutely wonderful, Mar." Vic gave her a grateful nod. "I feel…"

"Like shit. I'll bet." She nodded. "Hang in there, Vicky. Everything you've told me about Melanie… she's a fighter."

"You sound like Cole," Vic muttered bitterly.
"He calls you Vicky, too, does he?" Maria asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mar…"

"Right, sorry. Cathedral, candles, prayers. Alcohol."

"Sounds like a plan," he sighed. "You get to be designated driver today, okay?"

"The things I do for my partner," she muttered, shaking her head. "Just don't expect me to make a habit out of it."

"Mar…" he began hesitantly.

She looked up, a little started by his tone. "Vicky?"

"Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it."

She shook her head. "Last time I checked, moral support was a part of the 'friend' job description. You need to not be alone right now. Come on, let's get you out of here."

Vic gave a silent nod, grateful to her. With a sigh, he let her lead him from the hospital.