Vincent carefully laid the exhausted young man down on the bed that they had made for him in the hospital room. Father, his face creased with concern, reached for the young man's wrist. "Vincent?"
"I believe he is simply tired, Father," he replied softly, calmly, pulling the sheet over the still figure. "He passed out moments ago from what appeared to simply be the strain of having to stand there and listen to that - darkness - prey upon his fragile mind." Vincent watched the older doctor rummaging in his medical bag. "I did try to talk him out of this tumultuous confrontation, but he insisted on going through with it. His fever has returned. I do hope he has not re-injured his legs. They are still quite weak from his injuries."
Father, having apparently not found what he was looking for, abandoned the bag and moved toward their patient, laying a gentle hand on Vincent's cloak as he passed. "Not your fault, Vincent. You did well to be with him. You are not hurt?"
Vincent shook his cloaked head silently and stepped back to allow Father to fuss over the still figure, the shadows of the room falling across his expressionless face.
"You seem troubled." Catherine moved closer to his side, sliding her hand around his arm, and leaning her head against the cloth of his cloak.
Almost imperceptibly, he leaned into her touch, raising his face to gaze at the dark ceiling above them. "I am."
"Can Lucifer actually hurt him?" She asked, her hushed voice betraying the concern that she felt for their unusual guest. "What could he possibly do to Jason? He is so much taller, he could hurt him if he wanted. But physical suffering doesn't seem to be what he is intending."
Vincent shrugged slightly, unable to respond to the question that they were all wondering. This was all new to them. They had faced evil before, but never an evil so - tangibly dark.
Catherine looked up at him and rested her chin against his arm. "Vincent, what are you thinking about? You are nervous, I can feel it." Her voice trailed off as he finally looked down at her, a strange glint in his eyes.
He moved away from the wall, resting his hand over hers, effectively keeping her grasp on his cloak steady, and she moved with him as he began to pace the floor. "Lucifer can not hurt Jason, unless Jason gives in to the lies that he speaks. If he can get Jason to doubt his purpose, the reason he is alive, then he can get Jason to no longer believe that he is valuable to those that love him, and that the position that he seeks Above is unattainable."
"What if that happens?" Catherine asked softly, worry lining her kind face. "What if Jason give in, and gives up?" Vincent stopped pacing, and pulled her close to his chest.
"I do not know, Catherine. Someone in the depths of that kind of loss, despair, abandonment - they can be so unpredictable."
The sounds of life Below faded into whispers, as the children were put to bed. There was a slight bit of chaos when William discovered Arthur sneaking cookies out of the kitchen, but soon every tunnel was blessed with the stillness of sleep.
Mouse walked quietly back and forth before the doorway to the chamber where the self-proclaimed angel slept. He had heard of the war between the dark presence and the tired young man. He was worried for the safety of his friend. Having orchestrated the young man's entrance into the community Below, he felt personally responsible for the chaos that he could sense unfolding around them.
"Mouse, my boy, why are you still here?"
The young man startled nervously as Jacob stepped from the patient's room, hands held up in a calming gesture at the mouse-like fear on the young man's face. "Easy, my boy, I didn't mean to startle you. What are you doing out here at this hour?"
Once he realized it was simply Father, Mouse smiled in relief. "Mouse - worried." The young man frowned up at the older doctor. "Bad darkness try to take him. He need our help! Mouse help protect."
Father smiled crookedly and placed gentle hands on Mouse's shoulders. "So we shall, my boy. I promise that I will not let anything bad happen to him. You go get some rest now, huh? I will watch over him tonight."
Mouse considered, then nodded acceptingly, and moved silently away down the hall. Jacob watched him go and sighed. There were strange things happening in the tunnels and he was not happy about it. Enemies with swords were easier fought than shadows.
"Jacob Wells, how good to see you." A thin, cold voice broke the stillness of the night air behind him, dimming the glow of the candles above him on the walls.
A sliver of ice ran down Father's spine as he slowly turned to see who had spoken. The voice dripped in sincerity, but there was a fragment of bitterness in it. Like swallowing medicine. First the sugar makes it palatable, then the medicine settles in the back of your throat, leaving it dry and distasteful.
"Lucifer, why are you in my tunnels?" Father could not keep the anger from his voice, and he fought to keep his tone steady.
The dark eyes smiling back at him narrowed in annoyance. "Why, Jacob, you don't own this land, these tunnels, not even a grain of this dirt. I am surprised at you. I have just as much right to be here as you do. Come, let's go sit and talk like men. Don't be so obstinate. I mean no harm."
"I do not wish to talk to you." The doctor crossed his arms firmly and turned from the evil angel. "And you are not a man. I do not talk to shadows. You have done nothing but create chaos to this home and I have nothing to say to you that I care to say aloud."
"Do NOT turn your back on me, old man," the angel snarled in frustration at the lack of cooperation. If enticement failed, then intimidation would be next. Dark wings unfurled, filling the tunnel around them with swirling blackness and twisting shadows. Still, Father stood stalwart and ignored the specter.
"Look at me, Jacob Wells!" Lucifer growled again, edging closer behind the still figure. His wings loomed over the doctor like a wave of the deep ocean frozen at the peak of its crest. "Look into the eyes of your adversary when he speaks to you. You owe me at least the decency of listening to what I have to say."
"I owe you nothing." Father replied calmly, refusing to meet the angel's demand. "I know the right way and I know the wrong way. I also know that you have no power over me unless I heed your words and let your wiles sink into my heart. You speak lies and venom. Neither are accepted in these walls."
"You do not make the rules, human!" Lucifer fairly howled in rage, the glittering of his eyes flames of fire that burned black in the darkness. "The war between darkness and light has been battled for centuries upon eons. You can not shift that tide now simply by your obstinance."
"Perhaps not," Jacob replied patiently. "But tonight, there will be no war. I command you to leave me and my tunnels."
"You do not have the authority to demand my obedience." Lucifer chuckled, folding his wings. If intimidation didn't work, then maybe rationalization would prevail. His words were brave, but Father sensed the hint of fear in his tone.
"No," he replied, a gentle smile crossing his face. "I do not have that authority nor that strength. But you know who does have that authority, and unless you wish for me to ask for His help immediately, I suggest that you flee."
With a spine chilling roar of fury, the dark angel knew he could not win that argument and in a whirl of black mist, he vanished from sight. Father breathed a sigh of relief as the candles glow rose to its proper height and illuminated the empty tunnels. Nodding to himself in relief, he turned to enter the young angels curtained room again.
"Are you okay?" Jason's quiet voice spoke from the shadows. Father sat down at his bedside, laying a large hand over the weaker one of the angel. He was glad his hands were not shaking as much as his emotions were.
"I am fine, Jason. Rest now. You should not be awake." Father spoke comfortingly, but his heart was beating violently in his chest. Illnesses he could attempt to heal. But devils were not in the list of things he could rid people of, and he was worried for the young angel.
"He came to you, didn't he?" Jason asked, trying to meet the older man's gaze in the darkness. "Lucifer, he was here?" Jacob hesitated, not wishing to worry the young man, but found he could not tell the young man otherwise. He nodded.
"Yes, he did."
"But you resisted him."
"I suppose I did, yes," Father replied agreeably, reaching to feel the young man's forehead again. He was not satisfied with how warm the skin still was, and relinquished his hold on the angel's hand to move to the table nearby. There, he busied himself soaking a cloth for the man's forehead. "You must rest, Jason. You may be an angel but you are as human as one of us now, susceptible to our weaknesses. Your body is exhausted. If you do not sleep of your own accord, I will be forced to give you medicine to make you sleep. Now," he moved back to the bedside with a bowl of water and the wet cloths. "Which is it to be, Jason?"
"I'll rest," the angel spoke quickly, holding up a tired hand. "I promise. I'll rest."
"Good," Father nodded, pleased, sitting down beside the bed. "I suggest you get to it, then."
"Thank you for walking me home," Catherine spoke softly, leaning into Vincent as they stood on her balcony. "I feel much safer with you here."
"I wanted to make sure you were safe," Vincent replied. She smiled and together they stood in silence looking down at the city beneath her apartment. The world below them was a mass of twinkling lights, and the cars on the street were the only break in the stillness.
"It's amazing that there are wars going on that we don't even think of," she mused quietly, and Vincent settled an arm around her shoulders.
"These wars have been going on since the beginning," Vincent replied gently. "There has always been a battle between good and evil. In our every day lives, it is as simple as being kind to the person who cuts you off on the subway, or shouts at you for holding up the checkout line. You are not responsible for their actions." He smiled down at his companion. "You are only responsible for how you react to those negative things. Get some rest, Catherine. We can do nothing else tonight."
She gave him a gentle smile and allowed him to lead her to the balcony entrance that would take her inside her apartment. "Will you promise me that you will rest too?"
His eyes were gentle, and he brushed a hand across her cheek. "I will not make promises that I can't keep."
He watched her enter her apartment, satisfied when the click of the lock indicted that she was safely shut inside.
Only then did he allow himself to sink slowly down to the smooth surface of the patio, the strain of the day washing over him in weary waves, his back settled against the cold stone. He lowered his cloak hood, his hair shining honey gold in the moonlight. The wind ruffled the softness with its gentle breeze, and he clasped strong hands behind his head, gazing patiently up at the stars swirling above that kept him solitary company. And he listened to the honking of faraway cars and roaring of motors faint in the haze of the distant streets.
In silence, he kept watch all night.