Here and Now
Disclaimers: God, Martha Williamson, Stan Lee and me. I own the bad guys. I'm going to sell them on ebay when this is over. Any takers?
Rated PG-teenish for semi-gore and implied violence.
AN: Think Frank Peretti.
Here and Now
Monica and Logan walked along the country road in silence. On a whim, she had popped in to see how he was doing and upon seeing his good humor, suggested going for a walk. They had strolled into the countryside where people were scarce.
Beside her Logan sighed deeply and she glanced at him in concern.
"I've known a lot of people in my life."
She grinned at him. "I'm sure you have."
"Yeah." Another deep sigh.
"Logan. What's troubling you?"
"Ah, darlin'. It's the people I can't remember. People who were important ta me," replied the man as he picked up a stone and hurled it across a field. He grunted as birds scattered in all directions.
"My memories are like that sometimes."
He sounded so dejected. Monica reached out to touch his arm, to reassure him. He covered her hand with his and looked sideways at her.
"Ah, don't fret. Yer much too young ta be worried about an ol' canuck like me."
The irony of the statement struck her and she laughed with him.
"Oh, Logan. I'm way older than you."
"I know, darlin', but ya don't look a day older than me."
------
The sun was overhead now. Logan grabbed Monica's hand and they cut across a pasture until they came to a copse of trees. Once under the shade, he led her to a small stream.
"How lovely and cool!"
Logan showed Monica where to pick some late season berries and then he set to catching some fish.
Later, as they ate, he told the Irish angel of the fragments he had remembered. Monica listened intently to the man across from her and to her Father.
The afternoon wore on and the two became drowsy. Monica curled up in a space by the giant tree while Logan settled in an upper branch. The hazy heat seemed to press them into a deep yet uneasy sleep.
------
Logan awoke from a nightmare of grabbing hands and wild dogs. The air was heavy with the smell of sulfur. It overwhelmed his senses and for a moment he felt himself slipping out of control. Growling at himself, he shook his head to clear the cobwebs. Voices pierced the air below him. As he became re-oriented, Logan could see that the tree was surrounded by a pack of the ugliest dogs he'd ever seen. He turned toward the sound of the voices. One was angry and frustrated and the other was oily and smooth. He saw Monica in a heated argument with someone twice her size.
"You cannot come here like this!" she shouted.
The stranger's reply was calm and smooth. "Sure I can. He invited me, in his dreams. Me, my...minions, even the dogs."
Monica took a deep breath to think and center herself. She was still in her earthly form but could feel a cool breeze softly whirling around her, reminding her of who was ultimately in control.
"Aragone, you know that is not how it works.." Her voice held steely resolve.
The horrid creatures that stood loosely surrounding her stepped back at that.
"My dear angel, I am here now and there is nothing you can do." The tall, powerfully built man turned to point to the tree where Logan was sitting. "Only he can. We will see how he fares in this...encounter."
The man in question was assessing the situation with his many years of experience. Nothing prepared him for this. He had no doubts he could take the big guy but the creepy people and the dogs, those gave him pause. And Monica was surrounded.
As if she heard his thoughts, she began to walk toward him.
"Logan, no matter what happens, remember what I told you before. That God loves you and He created you to be the man you are."
The creepy things murmured at this pronouncement and began to close in on the Irish angel.
"You are a man, God's beloved creation."
Aragone watched in amusement as she tried to shake loose from her captors.
"Call on Him, Logan. Don't try to go alone." She was closed in now and they pushed her down cutting her off.
With a terrible roar, Logan leapt from the tree, over the heads of the pack onto the pile on the ground.
'If I can just get her loose,' he thought as he plunged into the inhuman mass. He had the sensation of being icy numb and burning hot simultaneously. Blindly, Logan groped for the angel. The stench of the sulfur was so bad that he almost missed the cool breeze with the hint of heather in it. More of the inhumans pressed in as he plowed toward Monica. In the midst of the extreme temperature variations, he felt a still calm form on the ground and struggled to raise her up through the masses. Logan stood upright, cradling Monica in his arms. His quick assessment surprised him. She appeared to be sleeping and had a peaceful look on her face.
The sound of clapping caused him to look over to the giant figure of Aragone.
"Well done, little man," the larger man sneered. His olive complexion darkened as he continued to speak. "You've got her. What are you going to do?" Aragone pointed at Logan's legs. The inhuman mass was now just that—a mass that burned his legs with icy numbness.
Now was one of the times that he truly didn't know what to do, what action he could take. He couldn't put Monica down. She would sink under the goo. He couldn't fight because his arms were full. He couldn't even walk because his legs were numb. And he wasn't sure about the smart-mouth that confronted him.
"Smart-mouth, huh?" Aragone's voice dripped with sarcasm. "You truly don't understand do you? This is your creation. Your idea. Your fault. You invited me here."
Logan grunted as he shifted Monica in his arms. "She said differently."
"Well, yes, you could look at it that way but it seems to me that I'm in control at the moment."
-------
Logan considered this. He tried to move forward but the mass seemed to get colder. His legs began to ache. A tiny warm wind puffed at his hair and a thought tickled at the back of his mind.
'What was it Monica said?'
"Who cares what she said? She's out cold." Aragone studied his fingernails.
'Focus, Logan.'
"Any day now, little man."
'What did she say?' The numbness in his legs was now to his waist. Monica still rested quietly in his arms.
"Why don't you put her down? Then you can get out of the mess."
Logan glared.
"She's only going to get heavier."
The ooze around his legs seemed to grow even colder but he knew if he put the angel down she would be—well, he wasn't too sure what would happen exactly.
"She'll be fine. Put her down, get loose, warm-up and if you think you can take me, then come on."
The challenge was so very tempting. Logan's back and arms were trembling from the aching cold and the effort of keeping Monica aloft. The niggling thoughts at the back of his mind wouldn't go away. Again, the small warm breeze caressed his face and he made a decision.
"This is your last chance, little man. Take me on now or you will lose everything."
"I won't do it."
Aragone looked surprised. "What do you mean?"
"I'm saying, wise guy, that I. Won't. Do. It" Logan grasped Monica closer. "I won't leave her to fight ya. I. Can't."
"Then you and she will both die," replied Aragone, his face darkening with anger. He gestured to the black oozing mass and it began to envelope the bruised pair. Logan lifted Monica as high as he could and tried to breath slowly. In the distance he saw a soft glow. Closing his eyes, he murmured so only he could hear, "Oh, God, please help us," then everything went black.
---------
Andrew approached Aragone, a sad smile on his face.
"Aragone."
"Andrew."
The silence was deafening. To the side the ooze bubbled and writhed.
"Let them go."
"He's mine!"
"He is called."
"His arrogance called me!"
"Your arrogance has felled you many times, Aragone."
"I will NOT leave!" yelled the dark man as he flared into his true form—dark, sulfuric, evil.
"So be it."
There was a flash of blinding light and the smell of hot forged iron permeated the air. A being taller that Andrew appeared. Dark headed, heavily muscled and scarred, Michael the arc-angel made his entrance. He pulled his sword and began to engage Aragone in battle.
"M-M-Michael..." the dark being wavered under the light being's assault.
"He has called. Do You have a problem with that?"
"HE is MINE!"
"No, he has called on God and he is not ALONE!"
With a mighty surge, the arc-angel overpowered the dark prince and there was another flash of light—red this time. Aragone was gone.
Michael turned his sword toward the black mass and began to make surgical cuts. The pieces fell away, shrieking before they disappeared. Andrew stood close by, waiting. A soft glow came from beneath the mass. The green-eyed angel breathed a sigh of relief but a look of concern came immediately as the breeze whispered in his ear.
"Hurry, Michael, there isn't much time."
"Aye, lad." The mighty angel sheathed his sword. He placed one hand on the buried pair and raised the other to Heaven. The blackness began to drip away. Monica appeared first, still curled in a peaceful sleeping position. Michael took her from the frozen arms that literally had a death grip on her. Andrew laid Logan's stiff body gently on the ground. There was no sign of life but there was hope.
Monica awoke to the gentle smile of the fearsome arc-angel. "Michael? Where is Logan? How is he?"
"Not good. It will be very close. He has to choose to live this time."
The two angels joined Andrew and began to pray. Tess appeared briefly to speak to Monica then left. Gregory and Adam showed up next followed by Henry. Soon there were more that a dozen angels gathered around the still figure.
"He's so cold," whispered Monica to Andrew.
He nodded. "I know. Evil leaves a cold that is hard for the human body to overcome. Didn't you feel it?"
"Only for a moment. The Father drew me into His arms and I was at peace until I woke up and saw Michael."
"He never faltered, lassie, not once. Oh, he was tempted but he didn't allow himself to accept it."
The angels kept watch through the night, ministering to the fallen man, praying and keeping vigil. It was close to sunrise when Logan tried to move. He was not yet conscious as his lungs drew in a long awaited breath.
Shortly thereafter, Tess arrived with a young man in tow. He looked around slowly, trying to understand the picture before him. Seeing his friend prone on the ground, the young man rushed over. He dropped to his knees and gripped Logan's cold hand.
"Merde!"
"Yes, baby, now you see why we need your help," said Tess, her gentle eyes smiling at the lad.
He turned to look at Monica who sat with Logan's head cradled in her lap and at Andrew who stood next to her.
"Dis...dis is too much. Remy, he don' know if he can do it. What cause dis? Dis evil?"
"That's exactly it, Remy, it was a great evil, a personal evil that Logan battled, for my sake and his."
Tess laid her hand on the young man's head. "Babies, this is young Mister LeBeau. He has a secret gift, much like Logan does."
The milling angels began to draw close. They loved to see the Father's creations in action, using the gifts He gave His children.
Dropping her voice to a whisper, Tess continued. "Remy has the ability to generate heat, a healing warmth to an injured friend. He is afraid of his gift. It can be very deadly when abused, but today the Father has called him to help us, help Logan in this time of need." She reached for the hand of Adam who was nearest her and the angels formed a tight circle around the small group. The dark-skinned angel then nodded to Monica who began to speak.
"Remy, don't be afraid. God is with you even now." She recognized him from a previous visit with Logan and smiled. He in turn looked her in the eyes and she noticed that they were bright brown, almost red. "Why, you have the sight of sunrise in your eyes!" she exclaimed. "How beautiful!"
The young man looked at his hands, at his fallen friend, at the rising sun and at the circle of angelic beings around him. A large powerful angel appeared next to Monica and knelt between them.
"Lad, now is the time. You must try now or he will lose this battle," said Michael.
Remy glanced once more toward the rising sun and laid his hands gently on Logan's chest. He tried to focus on his hands but nothing happened. He felt more than saw the glow from the circle of angels. The warmth of their love washed over him and for the first time in his life, he felt true hope. His hands began to tingle and glow a soft white. Concentrating, he pictured the warmth flowing into the still form beneath his hands. Cold being pushed out, cell by cell, replaced by life precious and warm.
An eternity of a few minutes passed. Suddenly, Logan heaved and gulped for air like a drowning man. Remy made to lift his hands but Michael motioned him to stay. "He's fighting the darkness."
------------------------
A sea of black. Logan was falling through a sea of darkness. He cried out—"God, can you hear me?" He felt a flash of heat then a warmth brush across his weightless body but the black was unyielding. "God, help me?!!"
----------------------
Michael pushed Remy's hands hard. "Now, boy! NOW!" His mighty voice boomed across the fields. A stiff wind brushed through the circle and one by one the angels touched Logan's forehead.
"You are not alone."
"You have never been alone."
"God is with you."
"You are special."
"You are His creation."
"You are not alone."
Remy could feel the power building in his arms. His hands glowed white hot now, too bright to see.
-------------------
"I don't want to be alone!"
--You are not alone—a voice whispered.
"I've been alone too long!"
--You've never been alone—
"God, where are you?"
--God is with you—
"Why me?"
--You are special—
"Why ME?"
--You are His creation—
"I don't want to be alone."
--You are not alone—
----------------------
There was a white flash and the darkness was gone. Logan blinked against the morning sun. His vision seemed blurry. There were at least a dozen sunspots near him, some right next to him. And a kid. The skinny auburn-haired Cajun. He had a stupid grin on his face. Logan blinked again and tried to sit up.
"Easy there. You had a long night," Monica said, her Irish brogue sounding like cool water to his ears.
"Monica, Gumbo," he croaked, "What..."
"Dey angels. Dat be strange, non?"
As the tired man watched in awe, the angels began to fade. When there were only five left, Logan tried speaking again. "Why?"
It was Michael who answered. He stepped away from the group, drew his sword and unfurled his wings in all of God's glory.
"For the Glory of the LAMB!"
"He shore kno' how to make an exit, no?"
Andrew and Adam helped Logan to his feet.
"How are you feeling?" asked Monica.
"'Bout like I been executed," came the rough reply. "I think I'll live."
"Well, good. Now , you get yourself on home. They're bound to be looking for your sorry old self sooner or later," Tess said with a tiny grin.
"Tess!" Andrew was shocked.
"Nah, she's right. They'll be looking fer me an' my neon sign," sighed Logan. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and threw an arm around Remy.
"Let's git home..."
"How we gon' 'splain dis?"
------------------
As the pair disappeared down the road, Tess turned to the remaining three angels. "You too! Get yourselves in gear! We got work to do!"
"Yes, ma'am!" came the chorus reply.
The sun smiled once again upon the now quiet pasture.
------------------
The end...of In Time, In Tense. This series brought to you by GM. At GM, we are general mutant people. And by TGIF. Thank Goodness it's Freaky. All questions and comments are appreciated. There are a few more in this AU and will be posted soon. C-ya then.
Disclaimers: God, Martha Williamson, Stan Lee and me. I own the bad guys. I'm going to sell them on ebay when this is over. Any takers?
Rated PG-teenish for semi-gore and implied violence.
AN: Think Frank Peretti.
Here and Now
Monica and Logan walked along the country road in silence. On a whim, she had popped in to see how he was doing and upon seeing his good humor, suggested going for a walk. They had strolled into the countryside where people were scarce.
Beside her Logan sighed deeply and she glanced at him in concern.
"I've known a lot of people in my life."
She grinned at him. "I'm sure you have."
"Yeah." Another deep sigh.
"Logan. What's troubling you?"
"Ah, darlin'. It's the people I can't remember. People who were important ta me," replied the man as he picked up a stone and hurled it across a field. He grunted as birds scattered in all directions.
"My memories are like that sometimes."
He sounded so dejected. Monica reached out to touch his arm, to reassure him. He covered her hand with his and looked sideways at her.
"Ah, don't fret. Yer much too young ta be worried about an ol' canuck like me."
The irony of the statement struck her and she laughed with him.
"Oh, Logan. I'm way older than you."
"I know, darlin', but ya don't look a day older than me."
------
The sun was overhead now. Logan grabbed Monica's hand and they cut across a pasture until they came to a copse of trees. Once under the shade, he led her to a small stream.
"How lovely and cool!"
Logan showed Monica where to pick some late season berries and then he set to catching some fish.
Later, as they ate, he told the Irish angel of the fragments he had remembered. Monica listened intently to the man across from her and to her Father.
The afternoon wore on and the two became drowsy. Monica curled up in a space by the giant tree while Logan settled in an upper branch. The hazy heat seemed to press them into a deep yet uneasy sleep.
------
Logan awoke from a nightmare of grabbing hands and wild dogs. The air was heavy with the smell of sulfur. It overwhelmed his senses and for a moment he felt himself slipping out of control. Growling at himself, he shook his head to clear the cobwebs. Voices pierced the air below him. As he became re-oriented, Logan could see that the tree was surrounded by a pack of the ugliest dogs he'd ever seen. He turned toward the sound of the voices. One was angry and frustrated and the other was oily and smooth. He saw Monica in a heated argument with someone twice her size.
"You cannot come here like this!" she shouted.
The stranger's reply was calm and smooth. "Sure I can. He invited me, in his dreams. Me, my...minions, even the dogs."
Monica took a deep breath to think and center herself. She was still in her earthly form but could feel a cool breeze softly whirling around her, reminding her of who was ultimately in control.
"Aragone, you know that is not how it works.." Her voice held steely resolve.
The horrid creatures that stood loosely surrounding her stepped back at that.
"My dear angel, I am here now and there is nothing you can do." The tall, powerfully built man turned to point to the tree where Logan was sitting. "Only he can. We will see how he fares in this...encounter."
The man in question was assessing the situation with his many years of experience. Nothing prepared him for this. He had no doubts he could take the big guy but the creepy people and the dogs, those gave him pause. And Monica was surrounded.
As if she heard his thoughts, she began to walk toward him.
"Logan, no matter what happens, remember what I told you before. That God loves you and He created you to be the man you are."
The creepy things murmured at this pronouncement and began to close in on the Irish angel.
"You are a man, God's beloved creation."
Aragone watched in amusement as she tried to shake loose from her captors.
"Call on Him, Logan. Don't try to go alone." She was closed in now and they pushed her down cutting her off.
With a terrible roar, Logan leapt from the tree, over the heads of the pack onto the pile on the ground.
'If I can just get her loose,' he thought as he plunged into the inhuman mass. He had the sensation of being icy numb and burning hot simultaneously. Blindly, Logan groped for the angel. The stench of the sulfur was so bad that he almost missed the cool breeze with the hint of heather in it. More of the inhumans pressed in as he plowed toward Monica. In the midst of the extreme temperature variations, he felt a still calm form on the ground and struggled to raise her up through the masses. Logan stood upright, cradling Monica in his arms. His quick assessment surprised him. She appeared to be sleeping and had a peaceful look on her face.
The sound of clapping caused him to look over to the giant figure of Aragone.
"Well done, little man," the larger man sneered. His olive complexion darkened as he continued to speak. "You've got her. What are you going to do?" Aragone pointed at Logan's legs. The inhuman mass was now just that—a mass that burned his legs with icy numbness.
Now was one of the times that he truly didn't know what to do, what action he could take. He couldn't put Monica down. She would sink under the goo. He couldn't fight because his arms were full. He couldn't even walk because his legs were numb. And he wasn't sure about the smart-mouth that confronted him.
"Smart-mouth, huh?" Aragone's voice dripped with sarcasm. "You truly don't understand do you? This is your creation. Your idea. Your fault. You invited me here."
Logan grunted as he shifted Monica in his arms. "She said differently."
"Well, yes, you could look at it that way but it seems to me that I'm in control at the moment."
-------
Logan considered this. He tried to move forward but the mass seemed to get colder. His legs began to ache. A tiny warm wind puffed at his hair and a thought tickled at the back of his mind.
'What was it Monica said?'
"Who cares what she said? She's out cold." Aragone studied his fingernails.
'Focus, Logan.'
"Any day now, little man."
'What did she say?' The numbness in his legs was now to his waist. Monica still rested quietly in his arms.
"Why don't you put her down? Then you can get out of the mess."
Logan glared.
"She's only going to get heavier."
The ooze around his legs seemed to grow even colder but he knew if he put the angel down she would be—well, he wasn't too sure what would happen exactly.
"She'll be fine. Put her down, get loose, warm-up and if you think you can take me, then come on."
The challenge was so very tempting. Logan's back and arms were trembling from the aching cold and the effort of keeping Monica aloft. The niggling thoughts at the back of his mind wouldn't go away. Again, the small warm breeze caressed his face and he made a decision.
"This is your last chance, little man. Take me on now or you will lose everything."
"I won't do it."
Aragone looked surprised. "What do you mean?"
"I'm saying, wise guy, that I. Won't. Do. It" Logan grasped Monica closer. "I won't leave her to fight ya. I. Can't."
"Then you and she will both die," replied Aragone, his face darkening with anger. He gestured to the black oozing mass and it began to envelope the bruised pair. Logan lifted Monica as high as he could and tried to breath slowly. In the distance he saw a soft glow. Closing his eyes, he murmured so only he could hear, "Oh, God, please help us," then everything went black.
---------
Andrew approached Aragone, a sad smile on his face.
"Aragone."
"Andrew."
The silence was deafening. To the side the ooze bubbled and writhed.
"Let them go."
"He's mine!"
"He is called."
"His arrogance called me!"
"Your arrogance has felled you many times, Aragone."
"I will NOT leave!" yelled the dark man as he flared into his true form—dark, sulfuric, evil.
"So be it."
There was a flash of blinding light and the smell of hot forged iron permeated the air. A being taller that Andrew appeared. Dark headed, heavily muscled and scarred, Michael the arc-angel made his entrance. He pulled his sword and began to engage Aragone in battle.
"M-M-Michael..." the dark being wavered under the light being's assault.
"He has called. Do You have a problem with that?"
"HE is MINE!"
"No, he has called on God and he is not ALONE!"
With a mighty surge, the arc-angel overpowered the dark prince and there was another flash of light—red this time. Aragone was gone.
Michael turned his sword toward the black mass and began to make surgical cuts. The pieces fell away, shrieking before they disappeared. Andrew stood close by, waiting. A soft glow came from beneath the mass. The green-eyed angel breathed a sigh of relief but a look of concern came immediately as the breeze whispered in his ear.
"Hurry, Michael, there isn't much time."
"Aye, lad." The mighty angel sheathed his sword. He placed one hand on the buried pair and raised the other to Heaven. The blackness began to drip away. Monica appeared first, still curled in a peaceful sleeping position. Michael took her from the frozen arms that literally had a death grip on her. Andrew laid Logan's stiff body gently on the ground. There was no sign of life but there was hope.
Monica awoke to the gentle smile of the fearsome arc-angel. "Michael? Where is Logan? How is he?"
"Not good. It will be very close. He has to choose to live this time."
The two angels joined Andrew and began to pray. Tess appeared briefly to speak to Monica then left. Gregory and Adam showed up next followed by Henry. Soon there were more that a dozen angels gathered around the still figure.
"He's so cold," whispered Monica to Andrew.
He nodded. "I know. Evil leaves a cold that is hard for the human body to overcome. Didn't you feel it?"
"Only for a moment. The Father drew me into His arms and I was at peace until I woke up and saw Michael."
"He never faltered, lassie, not once. Oh, he was tempted but he didn't allow himself to accept it."
The angels kept watch through the night, ministering to the fallen man, praying and keeping vigil. It was close to sunrise when Logan tried to move. He was not yet conscious as his lungs drew in a long awaited breath.
Shortly thereafter, Tess arrived with a young man in tow. He looked around slowly, trying to understand the picture before him. Seeing his friend prone on the ground, the young man rushed over. He dropped to his knees and gripped Logan's cold hand.
"Merde!"
"Yes, baby, now you see why we need your help," said Tess, her gentle eyes smiling at the lad.
He turned to look at Monica who sat with Logan's head cradled in her lap and at Andrew who stood next to her.
"Dis...dis is too much. Remy, he don' know if he can do it. What cause dis? Dis evil?"
"That's exactly it, Remy, it was a great evil, a personal evil that Logan battled, for my sake and his."
Tess laid her hand on the young man's head. "Babies, this is young Mister LeBeau. He has a secret gift, much like Logan does."
The milling angels began to draw close. They loved to see the Father's creations in action, using the gifts He gave His children.
Dropping her voice to a whisper, Tess continued. "Remy has the ability to generate heat, a healing warmth to an injured friend. He is afraid of his gift. It can be very deadly when abused, but today the Father has called him to help us, help Logan in this time of need." She reached for the hand of Adam who was nearest her and the angels formed a tight circle around the small group. The dark-skinned angel then nodded to Monica who began to speak.
"Remy, don't be afraid. God is with you even now." She recognized him from a previous visit with Logan and smiled. He in turn looked her in the eyes and she noticed that they were bright brown, almost red. "Why, you have the sight of sunrise in your eyes!" she exclaimed. "How beautiful!"
The young man looked at his hands, at his fallen friend, at the rising sun and at the circle of angelic beings around him. A large powerful angel appeared next to Monica and knelt between them.
"Lad, now is the time. You must try now or he will lose this battle," said Michael.
Remy glanced once more toward the rising sun and laid his hands gently on Logan's chest. He tried to focus on his hands but nothing happened. He felt more than saw the glow from the circle of angels. The warmth of their love washed over him and for the first time in his life, he felt true hope. His hands began to tingle and glow a soft white. Concentrating, he pictured the warmth flowing into the still form beneath his hands. Cold being pushed out, cell by cell, replaced by life precious and warm.
An eternity of a few minutes passed. Suddenly, Logan heaved and gulped for air like a drowning man. Remy made to lift his hands but Michael motioned him to stay. "He's fighting the darkness."
------------------------
A sea of black. Logan was falling through a sea of darkness. He cried out—"God, can you hear me?" He felt a flash of heat then a warmth brush across his weightless body but the black was unyielding. "God, help me?!!"
----------------------
Michael pushed Remy's hands hard. "Now, boy! NOW!" His mighty voice boomed across the fields. A stiff wind brushed through the circle and one by one the angels touched Logan's forehead.
"You are not alone."
"You have never been alone."
"God is with you."
"You are special."
"You are His creation."
"You are not alone."
Remy could feel the power building in his arms. His hands glowed white hot now, too bright to see.
-------------------
"I don't want to be alone!"
--You are not alone—a voice whispered.
"I've been alone too long!"
--You've never been alone—
"God, where are you?"
--God is with you—
"Why me?"
--You are special—
"Why ME?"
--You are His creation—
"I don't want to be alone."
--You are not alone—
----------------------
There was a white flash and the darkness was gone. Logan blinked against the morning sun. His vision seemed blurry. There were at least a dozen sunspots near him, some right next to him. And a kid. The skinny auburn-haired Cajun. He had a stupid grin on his face. Logan blinked again and tried to sit up.
"Easy there. You had a long night," Monica said, her Irish brogue sounding like cool water to his ears.
"Monica, Gumbo," he croaked, "What..."
"Dey angels. Dat be strange, non?"
As the tired man watched in awe, the angels began to fade. When there were only five left, Logan tried speaking again. "Why?"
It was Michael who answered. He stepped away from the group, drew his sword and unfurled his wings in all of God's glory.
"For the Glory of the LAMB!"
"He shore kno' how to make an exit, no?"
Andrew and Adam helped Logan to his feet.
"How are you feeling?" asked Monica.
"'Bout like I been executed," came the rough reply. "I think I'll live."
"Well, good. Now , you get yourself on home. They're bound to be looking for your sorry old self sooner or later," Tess said with a tiny grin.
"Tess!" Andrew was shocked.
"Nah, she's right. They'll be looking fer me an' my neon sign," sighed Logan. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and threw an arm around Remy.
"Let's git home..."
"How we gon' 'splain dis?"
------------------
As the pair disappeared down the road, Tess turned to the remaining three angels. "You too! Get yourselves in gear! We got work to do!"
"Yes, ma'am!" came the chorus reply.
The sun smiled once again upon the now quiet pasture.
------------------
The end...of In Time, In Tense. This series brought to you by GM. At GM, we are general mutant people. And by TGIF. Thank Goodness it's Freaky. All questions and comments are appreciated. There are a few more in this AU and will be posted soon. C-ya then.
