Chapter Eleven
William looked past the scalpel at Molly. She was staring at him like he was some kind of stranger…a monster. William slowly lowered his arm as he stood, allowing Molly the room to scramble out from under the table and over towards John. William placed the scalpel gently on top of the lab table.
"How…how did…" muttered John, staring at William in shock. He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. "What are you?"
William stared down at the table, unable to look at them. "I'm a messenger."
"Oh, yeah, we've heard that one before," said John scathingly.
William turned his head towards them in answer. "Of God!" He stopped and took a breath to calm down before turning to face them. "I'm a messenger of God."
John stared at him in disbelief. "You're saying you're an angel?" He smiled at the absurd claim, almost laughing.
William looked at Molly, who was now staring at him with wide eyes, realizing the truth in his statement.
John's smile slowly faded. "Oh, my God…You're serious…"
William glanced back at him.
John's eyes trailed down to the floor, putting the pieces together. "All your excuses for not eating—I've never once seen you eat or drink…You never want to meet at your place…" he smiled sarcastically, "'cause you don't have one…"
William looked back at Molly, whose wide-eyed stare of shock was slowly turning to one of hurt.
John looked back up at him. "That man the other night—the one with the knife—he did get you, didn't he?"
William lowered his gaze in admission.
"Oh, you—" John broke off, trying to contain himself. "What else…hmm? What else have we missed?"
William hesitated before bowing to the inevitable. "I can transport myself at the speed of thought—"
"No shit, William," John spat out. "What else?"
"I can read minds," William told him.
John stared at him. "You can read minds?" He huffed out a bitter chuckle. "So, it's all a lie."
William frowned in confusion.
"There is no 'great consulting detective,'" grumbled John in anger. "It was all a ruse."
"No, John—" began William, understanding what John was thinking.
"You never 'deduced' anything," John continued over William's voice. "You're just a fraud."
Despite how much William protested that he didn't care what other people thought, that had hurt. How could John even think that?
"John—" began William.
"Why?"
The two men were brought to an abrupt halt by the first words Molly had spoken throughout this whole thing. She was staring at William with the worst look of betrayal he had ever seen—and he had been present in the Garden of Gethsemane for Judas' betrayal of Jesus.
"Why?" Molly repeated, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Why what?" asked William softly.
Molly shook her head a little, shrugging as she smiled sadly. "Everything."
William hesitated, trying to figure out how to best phrase it. "I…I didn't want to hurt you."
Almost as soon as he said it, he realized it was the wrong thing to say at the moment.
Molly's tears finally fell down her face as she smiled bitterly. "Well, that worked out really well for you, didn't it?"
William stared at her, his mouth working as he tried to think of the words. Why did this have to be so hard for him?
"Go," said Molly quietly, glaring at him. "Just go."
Finally finding his voice, William took a step forward. "Molly—"
"She said go!" John shouted, stepping in front of Molly and towards William.
William looked at him and then back at Molly, who was staring at him with hard, teary eyes. He slowly took a step back and lowered his head, letting his shield back up. As he disappeared from their sight, Molly finally broke down, the tears flowing freely as she collapsed in on herself. John immediately turned to her, enveloping her in his arms. Molly leaned against John's chest, crying in anguish.
William stared at the scene in front of him, his heart breaking for Molly. In the end, Michael had been right. He should have told them sooner.
What have I done?
William turned and left the room, unable to watch a moment longer.
The next two days were spent in a listless depression; there was no other word for it. To be given a glimpse of a way out of this mundane existence and to have it snatched away in one moment…Needless to say, William was depressed.
At first, he had heeded Molly's words and stayed away. But after the first twelve hours of roaming the library and streets, he couldn't take it any longer. He'd had a taste of that wonderful drug called life, and he wanted more. He was completely addicted. So, he would take whatever he could get to feel that again.
John dropped down into a seat at the bar, giving a tired sigh.
Greg quirked his brows up. "Well, you look like hell warmed over."
"I feel like it," grumbled John, looking up at the bartender and holding some money up. "A beer, please."
"What happened?" asked Greg. "Did you two have a falling out?"
John looked over at him with a startled expression. "What?"
"Molly won't return my calls," Greg explained.
John relaxed a little. "Oh…right…"
The bartender placed a beer on the counter, and John took a great gulp from it.
"That has nothing to do with Molly and I," John told him. "It's…" He gave a sigh and took another drink.
William watched him uneasily from his spot behind the bar, leaning up against the back counter. This was all because of him. He was the reason why John was drinking. He was the reason why Molly wasn't talking to Greg.
"We lost a friend," John finally forced out, his jaw clenching.
Greg watched him closely. "I take it this friend didn't die."
John chuckled at that, amused at what Greg was unknowingly implying. "Not bloody likely…" He gave a sigh as he calmed down. "William isn't the…man we thought he was."
Greg paused, staring at him. "He isn't?"
"He's a liar," John grumbled, glaring ahead at the wall in front of him. "Nothing but a liar." He took another drink.
William glanced over at Greg, watching as the wheels in his head finished turning. He knew Greg would figure it all out, but the question was what he would do about it.
Greg glanced down at his drink, hesitating a moment before speaking. "Did he tell you or did you find out?"
Oh, this will be an interesting conversation, William thought.
John frowned as he looked back at Greg. "Find out what?"
Greg looked at him. "That he's an angel."
And just as William suspected, John's eyes widened in surprise before narrowing in hurt.
"He told you?" asked John.
Greg shook his head. "I just knew."
John gave him a confused frown.
Greg turned more towards him on the bar stool. "I already knew that angels existed. When I met William, I put the pieces together. So, did he finally tell you?"
John stared for a moment before shaking his head a little. "There was an, erm…incident at the lab. He…teleported right in front of us."
Greg nodded. "And you yelled at him, didn't you?"
John turned angrily towards Greg. "He lied to us, Greg! He told us who he was, and it was all a lie! He used—" He broke off, turning his head away and seething silently.
"What was he supposed to do, John?" said Greg. "Just come out with it that first day and say 'I'm an angel'?" He looked for a long moment at John. "How would you have reacted to that?"
John shook his head. "He had plenty of chances to come clean, and he didn't. And that's not even the issue. He kept bragging about his mental skills, but it was a lie. He's able to—" He broke off as the bartender approached. He lowered his voice as the man moved on. "He can read minds. He kept making himself out to be some real-life Sherlock Holmes. He used that against me so he could, what? Study us?" He huffed out a breath and drank some more of his beer.
Greg frowned in confusion. "Why would he use Sherlock Holmes against you?"
John stared down at his near-empty beer bottle for a long moment before looking up at him. "Think about it. Dr. John Watson. 221B Baker Street. He's not the first person to draw that kind of conclusion."
Greg sighed, taking a drink of beer. "John…how do you know he wasn't telling the truth?"
John frowned and looked back at him.
"Think back to everything he's done, every encounter you've had with him," said Greg. "Other than anything related specifically to being an angel, did he ever once lie?"
John's eyes grew unfocused as his thoughts turned inward. William could hear him thinking back to all of their earlier conversations.
("Are you Mr. Russel's family?" "I'm a visitor."
"Are you sure you don't want anything?" "Not hungry."
"I am literally incapable of emotions."
"I'm a messenger."
"I find detective work fascinating." "How'd you get into that?" "Jack the Ripper. He was without a doubt the most intelligent criminal I've ever met."
"So, where's your phone?" "Not on me."
"Where did you two grow up?" "Oh, here and there."
"I deliver incoming parcels to my employer, I give out messages to the public, and in a lesser capacity, I watch over the company."
"An apt description, but I don't actually solve any cases. Well, I do solve them on my own, but I don't go out and do anything about it."
"I don't have any friends. You're the only people I've talked to in a…very long time."
"I enjoy music, I read detective stories, I observe autopsies, and I solve crimes."
"Why would you want to know what the sun felt like?" "I was curious."
"What can I say, John? He didn't get me.")
John frowned in indecision.
(But he…he knew. He knew and used it against me. I can't…)
Again with the using something against John. What was he on about? Whatever it was, it was tied in with everything William didn't know about John. But how could he not know? Could it be that William wasn't letting himself figure it out for the sake of John's privacy?
(But…could it have all been a coincidence? Maybe…)
John looked up at Greg as his thoughts trailed off.
Greg gave him a smile. "Doesn't he deserve the chance to explain?"
John considered for a moment before nodding slightly.
Greg nodded. "Good." He patted John's shoulder as he stood. "You're welcome, William." He walked past John's seat towards the door.
As William's eyes widened—
How had he known I was here?
—John spun in his seat towards Greg with a frown. "What was that?"
Greg stopped and turned back to him. "That whole 'watching over humanity' thing?" He glanced around them. "Quite literal." He looked back at John.
John's jaw dropped. "Are you saying he can turn invisible?"
"Basically," shrugged Greg.
John glanced around, as though trying to spot the invisible angel. "So…he could be here right now?"
"Probably," said Greg. He nodded once at John. "Good night."
John didn't say anything as Greg turned and left. He merely faced forward again and stared down at his drink, his jaw clenched slightly.
William watched him for a moment, considering the conversation the two men had just had. John had agreed to hear him out. Maybe this friendship wasn't as lost as he had believed it to be. William circled around to the seat Greg had vacated, making himself comfortable as he prepared to show himself.
(If you are here, don't. I'm not ready. Give me time to think.)
William stared at John, taking in the tense shoulders and fixed gaze. He was upset again? Why? He had just decided to talk to William, and now he was upset with him again? It didn't make any sense. Unless…Well, he supposed finding out that you had been spied upon would be pretty infuriating. John had asked for time; William would give him time.
William vanished from his seat, headed elsewhere. John glanced at the seat next to him and then downed the rest of his beer.
William appeared in the morgue, glancing around for his pathologist. She was standing at the drawers, filling out some paperwork on a clipboard. He approached her, circling around until he was facing her. She was staring at the clipboard, her pen poised above the paper and her eyes unfocused. After a moment, she shook herself a little and went back to writing, still not completely focused on her task.
William had missed Molly so much, it was painful. Every second away from her was torture. It wasn't so much that he had to be with her at all times; he hadn't spent every moment with her before. But the fact that Molly was emotionally withdrawn from him was agony. If he could only see her again, everything would be okay. He was sure everything would be all right as soon as he could talk to her.
Molly flipped the top papers back onto the clipboard, turning away from the drawers and heading towards the doors. William followed her as they swept into the hall, heading for the lift. As they entered the lift and the doors closed, William watched her closely as she raked over her report one last time. After a moment, Molly's gaze drifted up and froze. She turned her head and looked over at where William was standing. Her eyes glanced about the space where William stood, as though sensing something was there but unable to grasp it.
The lift sounded its telltale DING!, and the doors slid open. Molly abruptly looked away and headed into the hallway, approaching the lab. William followed her in, standing over by the windows to keep out of her way. Molly moved about the lab, oblivious to his presence. And even though he had been around her without her knowing before, it somehow hurt so much this time around. To be so close and not able to touch her, not able to even talk to her…
Molly came back out from her office, glanced up and jumped, her hand flying up to cover her heart. "Oh!" She took several breaths to calm herself. "What are you doing here?"
William glanced around him, but saw no one there. When he glanced back, he could see that Molly was looking at him.
William frowned. "Are you talking to me?"
"Of course I am," Molly shot back. "What, did you think you were invisible or something?"
William glanced down at the floor. I must have been wanting to see her so bad that I let myself be seen.
In his silence, Molly came to the right conclusion. "Oh, my God…"
William looked back up at her.
"You can turn invisible, can't you?" whispered Molly, her face twisting in horror. "Have you been following me?"
William held his hand out. "Molly—"
"You have, haven't you?" accused Molly, her voice rising in fury.
"Molly, you don't understand—" began William, raising both hands in supplication. Why does no one let me explain?
"What gives you the right to spy on me?" yelled Molly, advancing dangerously on him.
"It's normal for—" began William again.
"Normal?" Molly nearly shrieked. "This is normal?! You really are a monster, aren't you?"
William backed away as the furious pathologist reached him. "Molly—"
He never even saw Molly's hand move. One moment, he was trying to beseech Molly into hearing him out, and the next, he was reeling from a vicious slap across his face. His face didn't feel it, but his heart…
"You didn't even feel that, did you?" whispered Molly.
William didn't need to look at her to know that tears were falling down her face. And somehow, he just couldn't bring himself to point out that she was wrong; it had hurt him more than anything else ever could.
Molly turned on her heel and headed towards her office. Just before she slammed the door, William finally found his voice.
"I'm sorry," he whispered dejectedly, not knowing if she would hear it or not.
The slam of the door echoed around the room as William turned and left.
On the other side of the door, Molly leaned against it, her hand over her heart as tears fell down her face and her voice barely above a whisper. "So am I."
I had meant to end this chapter a little later, but the interactions in between John and Molly finding out and...well, I can't tell you yet...were just too long. Besides, I like this chapter's ending.