The Call

Chapter 4

There's A First Time For Everything

"I'm really sorry about all this Michael," Rose apologized, sitting beside him on one of the chairs at the end of the bar.

Her hands still hurt after pulling the glass out. She now had bandages wrapped around her hands as she attempted to clean up Michael's. Jake had done a pretty good job of slicing his hand open, leaving a bloody mess in its wake.

"Does it hurt?" she asked quietly, daring to look up at him.

"A bit," he nodded.

"Like I said, I'm really sorry Michael."

"Don't be," he smiled, placing his other hand on top of hers. "It's not your fault," he assured her.

"But..." she stared, trying to get something else out.

"Nope, don't want to hear it," he told her, before closing his eyes and taking in a breath, the nerves in his hand felling like they were on fire as she dabbed alcohol at the cut.

"Sorry," she whispered, pulling the cloth back away from his hand.

"You're fine," he assured her. "I just...never expected to feel something like this," he admitted.

"What do you mean?" she asked curiously.

"6,360 battles and no injures, until now that is," he explained.

"Wait, what?"

Now, she was confused.

"I'm an archangel, it's what I do Rose," he told her, looking down at his hand.

He still couldn't understand it. After all those battles, he was finally injured by a broke bottle. It's something that shouldn't have happened, yet somehow, it did.

"Wait a minute, that means, you're..."

He couldn't help, but to grin at the look on her face. She was completely stunned.

"You're...you're the Archangel Michael?" she asked, already knowing the answer to her question, yet she still voiced it anyway.

"Yep, that's me," he chuckled.

"But...but..." she had to take a breath in before continuing. "Out of all the angels in heaven, why did they sent you?" she asked. "Someone as important as you?"

Now, was his turn to explain, not caring if anyone heard him or not. He leaned forward nonetheless, his voice a bit on the quiet side, though it was not deliberate.

"Rose, you called out for help, you were in need. So, they sent me," he told her. "I was sent down to help you and that's exactly what I'm going to do. Although," he started, a smile pulling at his lips. "Apparently, it's going to be a two way street."

"Apparently," she nodded, brushing her fingertips lightly against the palm of his hand, watching him twitch for a moment.

At this point, the wound was clean, merely leaving her to wrap it up. It still bothered her to look at it though, feeling disappointment in herself for allowing something like this to happen. Granted, he had told her that it wasn't her fault, but she still couldn't help but to feel the way that she did. Jake was her problem, not Michael's, and yet somehow she'd managed to drag him right into the mess that was her stressful life.

Sensing her hesitation, Michael looked back down at her, a curious look on his face. He only made it look curious though. He knew what the problem was, but he let her finish wrapping his hand first, her small ones easily maneuvering around his large one.

"Alright, my turn," he said, pulling his hand away from hers after she was done, shocking her slightly.

True, her hands were already wrapped, but she'd done a poor job at it. She'd been more worried about helping him that she hadn't taken the proper time to wrap her own hands. So, taking hers in his, unwrapped the already reddened material.

The moment they were free from their bandages, her hands started to bleed again. He also noticed that not all of the glass had been removed, his eyes catching sight of a few small shards here and there.

"Hm..." he started, running a finger over one of her hands, inspecting it for a moment.

"What?" she asked, a worried look on her face.

That soon changed though as she winced, Michael's fingernails gripping a small bit of glass and pulling it free, the small shard glinting red in the light.

"Ow..." she whined, watching the smirk on his face.

"You didn't do a very good job of cleaning up," he pointed out, teasing her just a bit.

A sour look appeared on her face as she looked away, feeling slightly inferior compared to him.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, catching her attention.

"Why?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I offended you."

"Michael..." she bit her lip. "You didn't offend me," she told him, standing up after a moment. "I'm just..." she paused for a moment, chancing a glance at him. "I'm not used to the kind of kindness that you've been...lavishing me with," she said, trying to place her words properly.

"Are people not supposed to treat others with kindness?" Michael asked, watching as her fingers curled around her arm.

"That's not what I meant," she said, voice slightly frustrated as she retied the bandage around her hand, walking back behind the bar.

Michael watched as she grabbed a shot glass, wiping it down with a cloth with practiced ease, before sitting it down on a tray. She repeated the action several more times before giving up and going back around the bar, her goal set on gathering up all the empty beer bottles laying around and throwing them away. She did this for every table, Michael watching her all the while, the sound of glass clinking and clattering in the trash bins.

"Excuse me," Rose said, reaching passed a few customers to grab a set of empty bottles.

Heading back toward the other side of the room, she dropped the two bottle into one of the bins as well, before leaning up against a post to watch those around her. For 10 minutes she did this, eyes closing for another five as she listened to the sounds around her. Surprisingly enough though, she didn't hear Michael coming up behind her, jumping upon feeling his hand on her shoulder.

"Rose?"

"W-what is it Michael?" she asked, turning her head to look at him.

"You look tired," he said, tilting his head to the side slightly.

Rose bit the inside of her cheek for a moment, casting her eyes out at the crowd, the crowd that seemed so lively. Unlike her.

"I'm always tired Michael," she admitted, closing her eyes once more.

What she told him was true. Rose was always tired, she'd been that way for years. Stress probably had a factor in it, but that was nothing new. Her health wasn't that great either to be honest, but that was because she had a weak immune system, something that she couldn't control. It was just something that she had been born with. Unfortunately though, it never made things easy for her, she just hid them well is all.

"Perhaps, I should walk you back home?"

She shook her head.

"Not yet," she told him, taking in a breath, leaning her head back against the post.

She let it back out a moment later, opening her eyes as looked over at the wall, the neon clock glowing green and orange. It was almost time for her to leave, she just had to wait a bit longer. Then, after the clock hit it's mark, she'd be allowed to leave.

"Michael?" she asked suddenly, turning her head to look at him, a tired look in her eyes.

"Yes?" he replied.

"I know that you stay with me in that motel last night, but...where are you staying tonight?" she asked, giving him a curious look.

"Actually, I hadn't thought about that," he said truthfully, a thoughtful look on his face as he thought about it.

"Um, you could always stay at my place," she offered. "I don't really mind."

What she was offering was genuine and Michael knew that without a doubt. Granted, there were two reasons for it. One was the obvious, not wanting to leave him out on his own. She wouldn't have felt right about doing that to him. The second reason for offering it was because he actually made her feel safe. After seeing him with Jake, she knew that she'd have no problems. She was also fairly sure that Michael would cause her no troubles if she allowed him to stay. After all, other than Jake, she'd never really had anyone stay at her place. She figured that perhaps, it was time to change that and help Michael like he had helped her. He'd given her a place to stay for a night, so she'd do the same for him.

"You'd really do that?" he asked, testing her words to make sure that she was certain.

Rose nodded her head in reply, closing her eyes for a short moment as she took in another breath. Her chest hurt a bit.

"Yes, I'm sure," she told him, pushing away from the post, turning around to look at him properly. "After all, it's the least that I can do for you."

T

"Alright, just give me a minute and I'll set things up," she told him, moving around her apartment.

She went into her room, grabbing a pillow from the bed, before gathering a couple of blankets from the corner. She then walked back into the living room, dropping the pillow down onto the coffee table, and making the couch up.

Michael watched her carefully as she tucked the edges in, smoothing everything out so that it fit. She was so precise with everything, making sure that it was done right so that he'd be comfortable.

"Okay, that should do it," she smiled, resting the other blanket down at the end of the couch, the pillow now at the other end. "Um, I'm going to make some tea, would you like some?" she asked.

"I'd love some," he grinned, following her into the kitchen, sitting down in one of the chair.

Rose merely nodded her head, going about the task of making tea. Granted, she was tired, but she needed something to help her relax a bit. So, she ran the water hot till it was steaming, filling the pot up. She then placed it on the stove, turning the burner over, the heat slowly radiating out and into the pot. Once that was done, she went over to the drawer, pulling it out to look through her tea stash. The tea inside ranged from black china tea, all the way to red teas. She drew out a black tea with cinnamon in it though, feeling a need for the reassuring aroma.

"I hope you like cinnamon," she called over her shoulder, pulling the small plastic bag out and setting it on the counter.

"Cinnamon is perfect," he replied, propping his elbow up on the table to watch her.

Her routine seemed so simple and natural as she opened the bag, grabbing a measuring spoon and scooping a portion out. He then watched with interest as she distributed it into a small metal mesh ball, closing the clasp on it and dropping it into the steaming pot.

"You know, normally, people just use tea bags," he told her, chin resting in the palm of his hand.

"Yes, but I like it this way. It gives me a bit more freedom with it," she explained, carefully placing the bag of mixed tea back into the drawer with the others.

She then closed the drawer up, bringing a hand to her lips as she bit back a yawn, completely missing the look that Michael gave her. Instead, she moved to the refrigerator, pulling out a few things for sandwiches. Without knowing it, she peaked his interest, his eyes following her as she went back over to the counter.

"What's that?" he asked, trying not to smile.

"Ham and cheese," she said simply, pulling a couple of sandwich plates from the cabinet.

She then took the tie off of the bread, placing two slices on each plate, before putting it back up. Next was the ham, placing a few pieces on one, while pilling it up on the other. After that, she placed the cheese, before putting both the ham and cheese back in the refrigerator.

"Alright, dig in," she said, walking back over to the table and setting one of the plates down in front of him.

She watched as his eyes widened, a goofy grin on his face as he took the sandwich into his hand and bit into it. It looked like he was in heaven the moment that it hit his taste buds.

"I guess you like it then?" she asked offhandedly, biting back another yawn as she went back over to the counter, leaning back on it as she watched him.

Michael nodded his head, making no verbal reply as he chowed down on the sandwich, swallowing it in large bites. She hadn't seen someone look that hungry in a while. Either that or Michael just loved ham and cheese sandwiches.

"You might want to try chewing," she told him, taking a small bite from her own sandwich and swallowing it. "Wouldn't want you to choke."

"Of course not," he replied, a bit of food still in his mouth as he spoke, nearly causing her to roll her eyes.

She'd have to teach him some table manners when she got the chance. The thought in itself made her laugh though, Michael's head tilting to the side slightly as he looked at her, a curious look on his face.

"It's nothing," she assured him, turning toward the tea pot as it began to whistle. "Alright, time for tea," she yawn, pulling it off the burner and bringing it over to the table, placing a pot holder underneath it.

At the same time, she made sure that Michael didn't touch it, grabbing a couple of iced glasses from the freezer. It always helped to cool down fresh hot tea, leaving it warm enough to drink, but not hot enough to quite burn. It was something that she had picked up from her grandparents.

"Do you have sugar?" Michael asked, swallowing another bite of food.

"Yeah, I'll get it," Rose nodded, grabbing the bag of sugar off of the counter in the corner.

She came back over and placed it down in front of him along with a spoon. After that, she poured the tea into the glasses, steam pouring off of them as they met the icy edges of the cups.

"Thank you," Michael nodded, grabbing his spoon and scooping up a big spoon full of sugar.

Rose watched him the entire time as he dumped spoon after spoon of sugar into the cup, the sweet granules dissolving into the brew, white mist forming on top of the liquid. It was the same concept as hot chocolate.

"You must like sugar," she commented, before taking another bite out of her sandwich.

"You can never have too much sugar," he stated in a matter of fact way, a happy look on his face.

"I'm sure," she mumbled quietly, before letting out another yawn.

She was so tired, sitting at the table across from him as she ran a hand through her hair. After that her hand never left, staying tangled in her dark tresses as she sipped at her tea, her eyelids growing heavy. The tea was doing its job, clearing her mind while at the same time making it a bit clouded.

"Rose?" Michael called, making her eyes snap back upon.

"Yeah?" she asked, only halfway awake at this point, eyes already starting to close again as she tried to concentrate on his face.

The only problem was, it kept blurring, melding together with the colors around him. If it weren't for the fact that she was so tired, she might have found it kind of funny looking, but that was beside the point.

"Perhaps you should go to bed now?" he suggested, looking over her face for a moment.

"Mmhm," she murmured, only partially hearing him as she breathed out her answer.

She was falling asleep again, the only thing holding her up being the hand that was tangled in her hair, her elbow supporting its weight against the table top. There was no way she was going to make it back to her room, she was even awake enough to let out a proper response. So, making up his mind, Michael stood. He stood, walking over to her side of the table, carefully wrapping an arm around her.

"Mmm..." was her response as she fell against him, his grip tightly only slightly as he pulled her closer, until she was finally in his arms.

Her head fell backward as she laid in his arms, her breath going in and out at a steady pace. At this point she was pretty much out like a light, Michael being the only reason why she came to lay on her bed, his hand gently brushing away the bit of hair that covered her eyes.

"Good night, Rose," Michael whispered, before quietly walking out of the room and closing the door behind him, the light soon turning into nothing as it left the room in blackness.