7/24/09: Edited for original upload errors caused by text editor.

Touched By An Angel was about angels helping people.

Forever Knight was about a vampire family--one of whom sought redemption.

I wrote the crossover, but don't own either property.

A/N ALERT! Unholy Crud! Lord only knows how many years have gone by where I didn't realize that Interrogation was missing from here. Nobody said anything that it went directly from a mention of a jail cell to Stonehenge?! (Or maybe that last reviewer was the only reader since I tried to 'fix' this last time.) How depressing.

Part 17: The Interrogation

Andrew was tempted to just rest his head against the cell wall and let out a protracted groan. This assignment seemed to be going on forever, and he sorely missed the companionship of Tess and Monica.

"Father, I'm tired," he sighed, "I don't want to give up, but I don't know how much longer I can keep going. I feel like I'm getting nowhere."

I know. Let me be your strength.

The warm glow of Jehovah's love touched his mind. He felt much better.

"Thank you, Father."

Footsteps sounded closer as shoe soles rhythmically met against tile. Moments later that Nicholas who was--or had been--acclaimed Homicide Detective Knight was intently watching him through the spaces in the vertical metal bars of the holding cell.

"I told you to leave," the cop coldly reminded his 'prisoner'. Obviously, he considered it was the angel's fault that he had ended up here.

"Yeah," Andrew agreed with a yawn, running a hand through his hair to brush it back, "I've noticed that 'get lost stranger' seems to be the unanimous sentiment around here."

"I..." Nicholas seemed about to apologize, but instead coughed noisily as he stuffed his hands deep into his jacket pockets, his gaze fixing onto the emptier side of the cell.

"Who are you really?"

Drawing closer to the bars until he could grab them with his hands, Andrew intentionally moving into the other's line of sight.

"A friend."

Nicholas pursed his lips as he mulled that over, but averted his eyes yet again, refusing to look at the angel.

"Was that really... you there...when...my....when Raleigh..." he struggled to get the words out, the hurt ever a fresh wound to one cursed with his kind's perfect memory.

"In a way," Andrew smiled, praying that his assignment was going to open up a little more. He couldn't help if he was going to be kept locked outside. Or 'inside' as the case might be.

The detective shuffled his feet a little, looking very uncomfortable.

"Are you going to let me out, Nicholas?" Andrew asked, indicating the cell. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"I'm not so convinced of that," was the rebuff. Their eyes briefly met, inadvertently allowing Andrew to see the flicker of fear within the cobalt-blue of de Brabant's eyes. "You said you were an angel… an... Angel of Death. Were you there to take Raleigh to Hell?"

"No. Never, Nicholas," Andrew quickly and firmly reassured him. "I was only looking for a certain knight when I stumbled upon that scene."

The vampire nodded his head in so absent a manner that the angel was not sure if his protest had been believed---or for that matter, heard.

"Do you know where I can find him? The knight, I mean?" Andrew asked as the silence between them threatened to take on greater length.

The blue eyes shot up to meet his, wide with alarm. They quickly found someplace else to fix upon---specifically, his own shoes. The answer was a barely audible, "Yes."

"Can you take me to him?"

"Perhaps." The vampire licked his lips, daring another quick glance at his captive. "You're not with...them?"

Andrew pressed against the cell bars, his face earnest.

"I give you my word and the word of Jehovah, Creator of All, that I have nothing to do with Divia or Legion or any of their ilk."

"Then are you going to be taking me to Hell?"

The last question was spoken so softly, yet the fear in it came out loud and clear: Nicholas thought Andrew had come to take him to Hell. Trapped within his own mind by the demon, he sought now to trap Andrew in it as well to avoid a fate deemed even worse than possession. What De Brabant didn't understand was that Andrew would never take anyone to such a ghastly place.

"No… of course not. Why should I take anyone there? Why would I want to? Nicholas, I came to help you. You must trust me."

"Trust?" De Brabant finally lifted his head to meet Andrew's eyes for an interval that lasted longer than a half second. "You ask for my trust? You're an Angel of Death! You've come looking for me…Death. So, then I'm finally dying---but if I die... If I die..." he closed his eyes and shuddered violently for a moment. "The Guide said I've not nearly begun to recompense for my sins yet. So if I let you go...if I go with you, it must be... to...Hell."

Andrew was aghast. For a precious few seconds he just stood there in the cell with his mouth hanging open. Finally, he found his tongue.

"Nicholas---listen to me, I'm not Death. Angels of Death are NOT the Grim Reaper--that figure is just a myth. We only escort souls to the Father; take them to be with Him in Heaven. Who lives and who dies....it's not for me to decide." He frowned. Something that de Brabant had said had brushed a memory that he couldn't quite grasp. "And just what's this Guide business anyway?"

The blood memory visage of a vampire playing detective gave him an incredulous look. "You claim to be an angel and you don't know about that?"

"Well, I've never heard of anyone named 'Guide'. And there is no Hell that I've ever heard souls sent to, Nicholas." He grinned and pointed to himself. "I'm sorta 'in the loop' about such matters, you know…part of the job?"

His jailer looked bewildered. "But...I've been there... met the Guide---twice." He gestured in agitation. He, she, it---exists!"

The vague memory stirred a little closer, bubbling to the surface. "Show me?" Andrew requested, "Show me the memories? It's important."

"I..." Nicholas hesitated, torn between fear and wanting desperately to have an understanding friend in this nightmare his life had become. "If I let you out...?"

Andrew nearly growled in exasperation, but settled for throwing up his hands above his head.

"Nicholas---I'm an Angel of God! Do you honestly think you're keeping me here without my or my Father's consent?" He let the illumination of God's Light show. It was only a little glow in this strange environment of memory, yet it was enough to make Nicholas take several steps back, his fangs automatically dropping in a defensive reaction to the 'threat' of a power the Vampire did not understand.

"Uh...no....I guess not," Nicholas admitted as he quirked a rueful smile. Sighing fatalistically, he briefly closed his eyes to recall a particular memory...

The cell evaporated until they were both standing on grayish sand. All around it was the same, colorless sky and hilly landscape. If not for the lake, it might have been mistaken for some drab section of the moon's surface.

Nicholas opened his eyes, looking around with dread. "Limbo... I came here once as a mortal after La Croix drained me. It happened a second time just a few years back via the help of a prototype Death Experience machine a scientist pioneered. But I was a vampire that second time, and the Guide said I no longer had the choice of entering Heaven until my sins were atoned for." He looked down at the sand at his feet. "So many...he showed me the crosses of all that I'd killed. I hadn't realized it was...quite so many. After..." his breath caught as he tried to surreptitiously wipe away a blood tear. "I'll never be able to repay the debt...earn forgiveness. I'm damned... lost."

Andrew looked away from the tantalizingly familiar scenery to give him a sympathetic look. "Oh, Nicholas, you're not lost....you don't need to earn--"

"He's here," de Brabant interrupted, looking to where a bright light had opened in the distance. "Come on, if you wish to see."

And they were suddenly close to the light---actually a wooden doorway with a brilliant light shining from somewhere inside, but Andrew couldn't see what beyond the opening. And not far from the doorway, a figure who looked exactly like La Croix wearing a Lawrence of Arabia getup. The being was standing beside an autopsy table currently supporting a maggot-infested corpse: a corpse that held the decay-bloated features of one Nicholas de Brabant.

"What is..?" Andrew began, repulsed by the macabre sight.

The vampire swallowed hard before explaining: "My soul. Or, rather, what's left of it." He looked several shades paler than normal as he spoke---even for one of his species.

Schooling his features to be devoid of expression, Nicholas made for the La Croix impersonator, but Andrew grabbed his arm, moving ahead of de Brabant so that he could confront this...'Guide' first.

The Guide looked upon him with annoyance, sneering in a tone that was a mirrored echo of that which was the Roman Elder's own.

"How did you get here?"

Andrew narrowed his eyes at the 'Guide'. "Does it matter? I'm here now"---he waved his hand about, indicating their surroundings---"and I remember seeing this before. Only last time you appeared as some pop-science angel: all ethereal and nondescript."

Confused, Nicholas looked from one to the other. "I thought you said you didn't know each other."

"I don't know him," Andrew grimaced, "however, I know what this is." With that he began to praise the Creator of All Living Things, thanking him for his Glory and his Truth.

And before them the 'Guide' twisted and shrieked, cursing at Andrew with every foul word it knew---which was a considerable vocabulary.

"Stop it!" de Brabant cried out, grabbing Andrew by the shoulder to make him stop. He was not going to watch something whose appearance was as his sire's be put in great pain. "You're hurting him!"

"That's not an angel of God, Nicholas. Would an angel of His protest the praising of His name? See beyond the illusion."

Nicholas looked back and recoiled at the black and misshapen thing cursing them. The demon---a schism of Legion's presence, Andrew guessed---glared at the angel with orange, bulbous eyes. It pointed a bony finger at him.

"Look what you've done!" the demon gibbered in its rage, indicating the gray, swirling cloud that had replaced everything save for the open doorway: a portal that now gave the light of a raging furnace and not that of a welcoming Paradise. "Eveeerything iss ruuuuined!"

Without preamble, de Brabant twisted about to put the softly glowing Angel of Death between himself and the burning sulfur, the tight grip on Andrew's shoulder now fueled by abject terror rather than anger.

"W-what happened?"

"It was all an illusion, Nicholas," Andrew informed him, keeping both eyes on the demon, but his ears attuned to the Father. "The first time was to get you to either willingly enter Hell, or become a vampire. The second time was to help drive you into despair so that they could control you."

He felt Nicholas' trembling through the hands fastened to him.

"Why? Why are they after me then if not for my crimes as a vampire?"

"Because your nature desired nothing but to be with God," Andrew told him. "He gave that gift to you, Nicholas. If the demons had not interfered in your life, you would have been one of those few who were able to hear his voice as we do. Understand, my friend, that it takes the twisting of a great Light to make the greatest Darkness. Remember Lucifer, the Covering Angel? He was the best of those in Heaven before he fell. And look how far he fell."

"I was going to be made into a Demon?!" Nicholas gasped, feeling weak. And here he had thought being turned into a vampire was the worst thing that could have happened to anyone. A demon? He felt sick!

"Not a demon," Andrew grimly corrected. "A demon-controlled vampire--which would be far worse. Demons and Angels only have so much authority here on Earth. That's why Satan always works through animals or people whenever he can. Humans are the only ones given dominion on Earth. But if all the people are removed...then the demons will claim it."

Nicholas frowned. "But vampires aren't human," he pointed out.

"But they are, Nicholas, they are to the Father. Most began as humans. You've never lost your inheritance as part of Man. It's your birthright no matter how your body is changed."

Tired of being ignored, the little demon began hopping up and down.

"You'll pay forrr thiss, Angel!" the demon shrieked at Andrew. "J'ranor will beee informed! We willl desstrroy youu!" Turning, it fled into the fiery light, the heavy wooden gate closing behind it.

Blowing out his cheeks, Andrew sagged in relief. If the little demon had not proven such a coward and had challenged him he didn't know what he would have done. Legion was right... God had no authority in Nicholas' mind. Not unless de Brabant gave it to Him.

'Nicholas de Brabant, are you willing to trust me now?"

The vampire looked grim as he sighed, "Do I have a choice?"

"God always allows a choice. But you must decide now. I can't stay here indefinitely."

Running one hand through his hair, Nicholas looked around at the nothingness for a moment, then back at the patiently waiting angel, thinking on all that he had seen.

"Okay."

And with that one, precious word of trust, Andrew found himself standing before a smaller cousin to Stonehenge.

Chapter 17b: Dark Prophecy

Andrew shivered a little at the cold breeze that was blowing across the tall, dead-looking grass of the new landscape. A little way to his right was a small lake, as gray as the overcast sky. To his left the top of an ancient castle could just be spied above the surrounding hills. Before him were massive gray stones; some upright and interlocking, others fallen on their sides.

Of Detective Knight there was no sign.

The angel wrapped his arms around his chest and actually wished he could have still been cast as a vampire on this dreamscape excursion since then he wouldn't be feeling the chill. Giving up trying to keep his own hair from assaulting his face as the wind lashed it around, Andrew called out, "Hello?!"

"Here," answered a melancholy voice speaking in Old French.

Moving around a stone to get to the center of the circle, Andrew saw the object of his quest sitting forlornly upon one of the fallen structures with his broadsword out and resting upon his knees. The knight's eyes were fixed upon its polished surface as his cloak was whipped back and forth against chain mail and woolen tunic. If he was bothered by the wind, the medieval warrior gave no sign.

"Chevalier de Brabant?" he asked cautiously.

"Don't worry. I won't hide from you again."

The knight indicated for Andrew to take a seat upon another fallen monolith close to his, speaking as soon as the angel had gotten as comfortable as one could while sitting upon cold stone.

"In 1220 I was sent here by my mortal father, Sir Henry de Brabant and by the Church to act in the service of attaché to my uncle Sir Hugh DeLebarre. Our mission---so I naively believed at the time---was to introduce Christianity to some pagans still living in the land of Wales. But my uncle and the religious authorities had other...objectives." He pointed out in a direction between the castle and the lake. "I had just arrived here, escorted by my uncle and some of his men, when I heard the most strangely haunting music. None of the others seemed to hear, but it touched me---called to my soul in a way music had never done before. I begged leave of my uncle to investigate. After gaining his, admittedly, reluctant permission, I rode towards the sounds."

Nicholas smiled a little, seeing a memory that remained closed to Andrew's eyes.

"She was standing just a few feet from where you are now, playing a swan harp of ash wood. Within seconds we were smitten with each other's smile. My tragic first love: Gwyneth."

Nicholas met the angel's eyes, his face sad. "She was their priestess, you see, and the keeper of their customs. As such, she was a barrier between my people and the object of their greed---these lands and the hard-working souls that tended them. Not to mention the fact that we were supposed to be enemies." Head down again, he absently followed the edge of his sword blade with his fingers tentatively coasting on the flat metal. "My uncle warned me not to see her anymore---that she was an enchantress who would bewitch me with her magic and lies. Perhaps I was already bewitched then, for I ignored his words and went again to see her that very night. Gwyneth looked so sad when I found her here at our trysting place. She said she had been to the soothsayer's and that she regretted our time would be short. I rebuked her for listening to such superstitious nonsense..." he gave a tiny sound of disgust at his own hypocrisy as he admitted, "yet could not forbear from asking what the soothsayer had said about me." Nicholas pressed his chin even tighter into his chest as a tear escaped his eye. "She said...she said that it had been prophesied that I would live a very long time....and that in all that time, I would never find happiness. She was right."

Getting up, de Brabant began walking briskly towards the nearby lake, making Andrew struggle to keep up.

"I thought her words were foolishness and left. But I woke suddenly early the next morning with the sense that something bad was about to happen to Gwyneth. I found her... over there... by the water... slain by a sword." Stopping at the water's edge, he angrily wiped the tear away. "The villagers found me then, with her in my arms and her blood on my hands. My uncle showed up too-- to save me from their wrath, he led me to believe. I was a murderer in their eyes, he told me, and would be put to death if I stayed. So he had me sent to fight in the Holy Wars as a sign of atonement for 'my grievous sin' and to expunge the blot on my family's name.....while he stayed to claim lordship of the land." Nicholas stabbed at the ground with the point of his weapon. "I was such a fool! I believed him, and in so doing set the prophesy in motion."

Solemnly, Andrew moved next to him and laid a comforting hand on the knight's shoulder. "You were not a fool, Nicholas. You were young and naive, true, but the young are often guilty of committing foolish acts." He smiled sheepishly as he admitted, "Even when they are angels."

Nicholas looked at him with surprise.

"How can an angel do something foolish? Are they not the wise messengers of God, moving only to do his will?'

"I wish!" Andrew groaned aloud, eliciting a sympathetic frown of concern from his Earth-born companion.

"How is it, angel? What have you done against His will?" Nicholas backed up a step in consternation. "I remember now--I felt you---you are a vampire too. What did you do to instill the wrath of God to fall to this?" He lifted his upper lip a little to touch one descended fang with an index finger.

Mentally taking the 'guilt mantle' from Nicholas' shoulders, Andrew wrapped it around himself, studying his own hands as if each had grown another thumb. "I blundered headlong into a situation that I had no business in and...I made a horrible mess of things because of it."

"Truly so?" Nicholas studied Andrew's remorseful face for a moment before returning his gaze to the lake. "It must have been an awful thing to be made as cursed as I."

"Oh, it was...." Andrew sighed. "It cost a man everything he had. Do you remember when we met?"

"Frankly, no." de Brabant admitted, "There was an accident a little while ago. It took Lacroix's help to bring back many of my memories from my changing on. I... um... I can't remember much of my mortal days save for things of momentous importance." Embarrassed by how that had sounded, he quickly added," No offense, Lord Angel. If I had known then you were a messenger of God I would surely have recalled the event."

Andrew chuckled, "Oh, that's quite all right. I was hardly anything near momentous back then. And please call me Andrew. I'm nobody's lord."

"Andrew," the knight chuckled. "The name is from the Greek 'aner' meaning 'man'. That is a strange name for an angel. But then my name means 'victorous people' and I am hardly victorious. So tell, me, Andrew, why have you sought such as me if not to throw me into the flaming Pit? I may not have committed the first grievous sin I was accused of, but I have since far surpassed in quantity that single claim of murder."

"Officially?" Andrew absently scratched the back of his neck as he thought on his answer, "to give you guidance during this time of crisis." He gazed intently at de Brabant. "Personally, though, I desire to apologize and seek your forgiveness---if you will grant it."

"But why should you need forgiveness from me? And why would I not grant such a request? You have done me no wrong, angel."

"Because, Nicholas...." Andrew gulped with rising shame, "it was my immaturity that brought you to this state."

He reminded de Brabant of their second meeting in the inn, where Andrew had unwittingly given the drunken Crusader the wrong impressions and strengthened Nicholas' decision to turn to Janette and not to God for comfort. It was both a horrible task and a great relief to confess to this knight who had suffered so due to Andrew's own early rashness.

Nicholas' expression during the telling ranged between curious interest to frowning anger, until at the end Andrew was convinced that the knight had decided not to forgive him after all as his face was so clouded. Stricken with remorse even stronger than before, Andrew fell down to one knee and pled with the knight, the tears streaming down his face, "Please, try to forgive me, Chevalier de Brabant. If that is not possible now, then perhaps later?" His heart sank further as Nicholas deliberately stepped away from him and let forth an unearthly howl to the clouds above before unceremoniously yanking the kneeling angel to his feet, reversing their positions as he did so.

"No, No, No.....NO!"

Thrusting both hands into the saturated ground of the lake's edge, de Brabant rose back to his feet and faced the Angel of Death with two fistfuls of mud.

.Andrew stood meekly waiting. As far as he was concerned, if this soul chose to pelt him with some sodden earth, then he was getting off very lightly, for he deserved much harsher treatment at the knight's hands. It was with round eyes, then, that he watched the warrior roughly smear the mud unto his own clothing until the Crusader's cross was completely obliterated from sight.

"Not yours... oh, God, not yours too?" With a sound that was both a bitter laugh and a pained sob, Nicholas let himself fall down even further before Andrew until he was sitting on his haunches in the wetness. "Oh, God----I've even managed to wound an angel!"

"Nicholas?" Andrew's voice trembled. The knight had let his Vampire fully out as he had cried that last, his formerly blue irises transformed into an emotional storm of amber and scarlet.

"It's my fault! My fault! Lord Angel---it was my choice. Don't you see? I had already chosen to go with Janette before you even came in. What you said had nothing to do with it. I had chosen my fate when she first offered herself to me." Yanking on the titanium restraint---so incongruous with the rest of his historical attire--- he wound the broken bit of chain around one hand. "And now to find that by that choice I made a very Angel of God suffer for centuries with me... I am truly damned."

"No, Nicholas!" Andrew got back down in order to look him in the eye. "You are cursed, perhaps---as are all men by the Enemy's lies, but not damned. Do not say that."

"Damned!" the knight groaned again, unhearing as Andrew prayed and attempted to warm him with God's reflected glory by wrapping his arms around the man. But it was not enough... Nicholas was slipping too fast into a state of utter despair. Andrew prayed that much harder and tightened the embrace even as his thoughts screamed that he was losing the battle for de Brabant's soul yet a second time. Andrew could mentally picture him slipping out of his grasp into some yawning hole of darkness.

This could not be happening again. He would not let it happen again.

"Fit for only demons... a demon myself..." his assignment moaned over and over in Andrew's arms as the sky darkened.

Within seconds the terrible blackness had rolled in like a raging storm, turning the still lake water black in reflection of the ominous shadows above. Both angel and vampire rose together, the latter clinging to the former in alarm as victorious laughter was heard.

"And not jussst ANY DEMON, my sweet Nicholas," the Divia/Legion voice boomed around them. "BUT AN ARCH DEMON!" The wind kicked up to an even fiercer level, beating against the knight as it sought to separate him from the angel. Andrew turned enough to grab tightly onto the vampire's tunic with both hands. Though he kept on praying, his glow had all but dimmed to nothing.

Father!

I'm sorry, Andrew, but time has run out. He must make his decision now

Nicholas screamed as a force wrenched him from Andrew, the knight managing to draw his sword just microseconds before the dark cloud of energy lifted him fifteen feet from the ground and held him suspended there.

Review Responses:

Elendil: Yes, I know I tend to make possessive that which should not be and vice versa. It's frustrating because I DO know the difference, but because they sound the same when I hear the words in my head as I edit—they slip through anyway.

Louie Pastiche: The glitch was my fault and not 's. And thank you for the compliment. 

Trecebo: Eeesh! I agree with your comment on Monica and Andrew stories. The sugar is enough to rot teeth. Lol But you find a lot of that in fandoms. God knows I can no longer stand Natalie/Nicholas Have An Adorable (natch) Child stories. To each their own, but they make me gag.

Logan, huh? I'm more of a Scott fan myself. Those two X-men have lots of lovely emotional issues. Hehehe.

As for the TBAA mainstream... I think it's because the majority of them are strongly conservative Christians. (duh, Kyer!) Not that I'm against Christianity, mind. I was in a fundamentalist church for years so I'm speaking from experience here. But I've found that Christianity and fantasy mixing don't sit well with them. Sad to say, they can't see beyond the 'satanic' (s/f) elements to 'get' the underlining message. They see the fangs or antennae and—bam!—label it satanic and head away.) I'm speaking generally though. Not every one is like that.

I do find it funny though considering that the Bible refers to fantastic creatures. Are angels and leviathans any less wonderous than vampires and vulcans? In a more reality based spin: Is the wolf any less God's creature than the doe? We ascribed 'innocent' and 'guilty' labels too freely. Herbivores can be just as viscous as any carnivore.

Hooray for fantasy that turns accepted ideas on their heads and inspires critical rather than blind thinking.

L E McMurray: Oh, there's lots more. I just got major sidetracked by Severus Snape of Harry Potter. Gods, what a deliciously angsty character! If only I'd known about him years ago when the movies first came out I wouldn't have been faced with several weeks of fanfic research now. (btw, I heartily recommend writer ReeraTheRed's story about Dumbledore's, Remus Lupin's, and a clueless Harry Potter's efforts to save a despondent Snape. It's titled The Wounded and it's received 337 reviews so far with only 16 chapters. Yes, it deserves that high number. Warning: deals with an attempted suicide by a main character that has you quietly reaching for a Kleenex box. Normally, I don't care for that theme, but this one was enthralling, endearing, and utterly captivating—and never plummets into treacle sugariness. I hope she/he writes the sequel.