Blackheart didn't know what he was expecting, but the knock on the door startled him. Dawn and Treasure were both finally asleep. He got up from the place he'd been kneeling and grunted against the stiffness. Cautiously, he unlocked the door.

The figure was cloaked, so he couldn't see its face at first. Tanned fingers drew back the hood.

"Blackheart," the voice addressed him.

Blackheart was unsure what to do, so he tipped his head forward in acknowledgement. The dark eyes studied him with an intensity that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was as though the man could see straight past his mortal exterior and straight into his soul. He felt like one of those plastic anatomy dolls where the guts were showing.

"You came awfully fast," Blackheart said awkwardly.

"Of course…I go to those who ask. Sometimes even those who don't."

Blackheart gestured to the bedroom.

"I suppose you know why I called you here, too," he mumbled.

"Yes. You want Dawn and Treasure protected from your father."

"That's it."

"You aren't afraid of him?"

"Not really. I lived without a soul for thousands of years. I can do it again."

"You won't feel anything afterwards, though. No love."

That was a little disconcerting.

"I won't love Dawn?"

"Not if he steals your soul."

That seriously bothered him.

"What do we need to do?" Blackheart finally asked.

Jesus leaned against the doorframe, examining the sleeping woman, baby, and dog.

"You've done a great deal already…I think it's quite brave that the son of Lucifer himself could shelve his pride and call to me. You obviously know a lot more about loving someone than you think you do."

That surprised Blackheart a little.

"I see it," Jesus said, looking straight at his heart, "that you're willing to give your life to save theirs."

He looked back up into Blackheart's eyes.

"You will have a very difficult trial to face," he warned, "but keep in mind that I and my Father are with you. We will never leave you behind."

Blackheart nodded. Jesus walked across the room, pausing to look at Dawn's drawing.

"You're not at all what I expected," Blackheart confessed.

Jesus looked up, an amused grin on his face.

"What did you expect? Snowy white skin? A halo? A man who looks like a model? Hardly…"

He held his hands up so that Blackheart could see the scars.

"I appear in whatever form I'm seen in by the person," he explained, "to some people, I exist as a vapor, a faceless mist. To some, I appear as a man. Sometimes I even appear as a woman or even as a child. There was almost a literal component to the words 'what you do to the least of these you have done to me'."

"So…you have the power to appear to people, so why don't you just make yourself public? I mean…why appear so distant? The world's struggling," Blackheart said, growing braver.

"Because there is a time and a place for everything," Jesus replied smoothly, "and it's not up to me, it's up to my Father. 'Blessed are those who have not seen and still believe'. Sometimes people have seen me and they don't even know who they're looking at. They're too skeptical, too hardened."

"So…why appear to me?" Blackheart pushed.

"You're in a very unusual situation…to you, your father, the Devil, as some call him, is a very real, very tangible presence and a very real threat. I also appeared human to you so that you would also see me as tangible."

Blackheart's hand reached towards him and brushed his fingers against Jesus's shoulder. Sure enough, he was solid.

"What about Dawn? Can she see you?"

"Dawn has seen me multiple times. I've been to the coffee shop before when she was feeling particularly stressed out. Sometimes we talked, sometimes I was just a sympathetic ear. Sometimes she got a little testy with me because I told her the truth and not what she wanted to hear. Pam also knows me, though she may not realize it."

Blackheart chuckled.

"So…who would have thought? The son of God likes a good cup of coffee," he teased.

"Did you think I only ate bread and drank wine?"

Blackheart was sorry to see him go. Jesus was far from the insufferable character that his father had made him out to be. He was extremely blunt, but not in a way that made you want to beat him up for it. He also, surprisingly, had a sense of humor, which Blackheart would have never suspected. Though it was awkward having the Jesus in his living room at first, Blackheart found that he rather enjoyed his company.

"Don't be afraid to trust my Father," was the last thing Jesus had told him before he left.

Blackheart undressed and lay down next to Dawn. The bed shook with her silent laughter.

"You little weasel," he teased, "you were awake the entire time, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I don't know."

Blackheart just laughed and cuddled up close to her.

"I was wondering…I know this sounds really odd under the circumstances, but I know it's the right thing to do…would you marry me?"