Hello strangers! Sorry that it's been so long! I'll kick off straight into the action so!
First of all, very quickly though: I just want to say thank you so much to AlexiaSkyeRa for the really sweet and encouraging PMs. Knowing that people are reading and enjoying my work really motivates me to write more often and to write with a lot more zeal too. Alexia really gave me a lot of positive vibes when I was in quite a tight spot and to show my appreciation, I've used her kitten sequence idea in this chapter. She's also getting a cameo as Edmund's new assistant, (sorry for the wait! I'll be using the dialogue with Edmund to open the next chapter ;)).
I am always open to new ideas and suggestions! If you have anything you'd like to see in the fic, let me know and I'll try to accommodate it and if I can't, I'll be sure to give you a very good reason why I can't use the idea. (^_^')
Hearing all of your opinions about Cass and Mikey's relationship is also awesome! I love diversity of interpretation!
I'd also especially like to thank LovelyAmberLight, BrightWatcher and particularly Squirrel0304- who has posted numerous, wonderfully insightful and helpful reviews on this piece. I am sorry that it's taken me so long to reply to all of your reviews and I do intend to write back to every single one!
As always, thank you to everyone though! You're all fantastic, brilliant and deserve all the jellybabies, fish-fingers, custard and beef-flavoured milkshakes in the universe for how awesome you guys are.
"There aren't any here…we have to go. There are no daisies in this forest."
"Why are the daisies so important, Cassidy?"
"Because, if we don't have any daisies…I can't make you a chain…"
The Weeping Archangel had discovered something particularly amusing about his captured human.
"I do not like chains…and what makes you think one made from flimsy shreds of flora could ever restrain me."
"Not that kind of chain. One for you to wear."
Ever since he had taken Cassidy back to her place of residence, on occasion she would talk in her sleep. Most of the time, it was just incoherent mumbling but every now and then, Michael found himself capable of understanding her.
And during those rare, delightful instances, he could often speak to her in return…eliciting the most humorous of responses.
"To wear? Why on earth would I allow you to adorn me with flowers? Flowers are considered most effeminate in many cultures…"
"So you don't forget…daisies chains are to help you remember…mmph…daisies are so that you don't forget…"
"So that I do not forget what, precisely?"
"Me."
Michael leaned closer to her sleeping form, briefly savouring the feel of her warm, slightly damp breath against his face.
"You think that I will forget you?"
"…mmm…yes. You forgot me…before….in the hotel…I thought…you left me…and everyone…everyone forgets…after a while…but…if you forget…"
"If I forget…?"
The Archangel lifted a clawed finger to brush a single tendril of hair from her face.
"If you forget…where am I?"
"Where… are… you?"
"If you forget me…where am I? Where am I?"
Michael paused, unsure of what to make of the comment.
"I am afraid, my Cassidy, I do not understand what you mean."
"I don't understand…" Cassidy's brow furrowed in her sleep, her lips growing taut as her expression grew increasingly worried. "No. I don't understand. I don't understand…"
The Angel placed a hand on her forehead. "Do not upset yourself…"
Michael was about to pull away entirely, to return to watching her from a controlled distance.
After all, it had been weeks since he'd eaten properly and his hunger was increasing steadily with every passing second.
True, he had a good reason not to leave her side…but that thought did not make his situation any less uncomfortable.
His human was a sizeable meal and it was becoming more and more challenging to resist looking at her as a source of nutrition.
Or so he had conditioned himself to think.
Tempted by their proximity and perhaps wishing to test his resolve, Michael leaned in closer to the sleeping woman still. His nose brushed against hers, causing her to shudder but as his hand travelled across her forehead, through her hair and down to her neck, she appeared to settle once again.
At such nearness, he could taste every ounce of time energy that she had to offer.
Every drop.
Every morsel.
Every day.
Every hour.
Every minute.
Every second.
Pushing himself torturously further- and in a moment of madness that he could barely come to terms with- he greedily pressed his lips against hers.
For a split second, his predator's instinct awakened: prompting him to suck every last year of life-energy from her until she was nothing more than a wizened skeleton with flesh of dust, clinging to her brittle bones.
But that image alone was enough to turn his appetite and the Angel's fangs slowly retracted. Instead of clamping the human's mouth like a vice, he found his lips moving against hers in the manner that she had demonstrated so many times before.
His understanding of the gesture was still quite limited but begrudgingly, he could see the appeal.
Michael's lips grazed hers with bare softness that the Archangel, himself, was shocked by and as soon as her own slumbering lips moved to return the impromptu act of tenderness, the Lonely Assassin sharply drew back.
He moved away from her bedside, glaring down at her with muted rage, familiar self-disgust and above all else, confusion.
"That should have been more difficult," he reminded himself furiously. "That should have been more difficult."
When her electronic alarm finally sounded, his human woke with a stir and apparently no memory of what she had said or done while surrendered to sleep.
Her initial reaction to seeing him at her bedside was, as always, one of immediate fear that gradually turned to a kind of dry cynicism.
Their morning exchange was sharp-edged and bitter in tone, as always.
Michael was prompted to wonder why humans had not yet evolved out of needing to sleep if the after-effects of such a state left them with such dreadful agitation.
Cassidy returned by noting that sleep was a welcome form of escapism in some cases even if it left a sour taste in her mouth come the morning.
Michael could only slightly laugh at this.
She actually thought she was escaping him in slumber.
If only she could recall the content of her own nightly dreamings…
She left the house an hour earlier than she would have on an ordinary work morning, briskly having muttered something about punctuality being the last thing she wanted to deal with at that moment in time.
Michael did not remind her that he would be following her, trusting that she could certainly remember their conversation from the night before.
Her privilege was going to come with a price.
This was also the perfect time to observe her in a new environment and to judge if her health was improving or not.
However hollow her promises proved to be, Michael was determined to make sure that she followed through with them.
Cassidy walked down through the garden, sidestepping the clumps of thistles that she had made hasty mental notes to get rid of at some point and making her way to the front gate.
She looked up at the clouded heavens above her and sighed at the darkened stratus layer, pregnant with future showers and squalls, no doubt.
Lamenting her decision not to bring an umbrella with her, Cassidy was just about to leave the front gate when she noticed something rustling around in the pansies.
Upon stooping to inspect the yowling intruder, she discovered a tiny, rather scubby-looking tabby kitten had gotten itself trapped in the old chicken wire that her mother had once set to aid the growing of her sweet pea plants.
"Stop struggling," Cassidy coaxed the kitten quietly. "Come on then. Let me help you…"
The tiny feline had no visible collar or markings of ownership but he wasn't quite as feral or as filthy as a stray. More than likely, he belonged to one of her neighbours and had gone for a day-time adventure upon escaping their garden.
Unbeknownst to Cassidy, the Weeping Archangel watched her from a distance.
Steadfast in the shadows cast by the house's front awning, Michael watched her tussle with the kitten- braving bites and scratches alike- until the little beast was free.
He found himself examining her every move with a mixture of fascination and bewilderment. Had the dirty, little pest attempted to attack him, he would not have thought twice about crushing its tiny body under his fist.
The human woman, however, was slowly gathering the helpless creature into her arms. Despite its vicious struggles, Cassidy was smiling gently and stroking its head and neck. It wasn't long before the kitten was mewling happily at her bosom and settling down in her arms.
In was an interesting point of reflection for the Angel.
Most, if not all, of the more feeble creatures of Earth tended to respond better to gentleness and kindness than brute force and dominance.
It was almost certainly a mark of their gullible natures and poor social development, Michael decided.
Yet, it was an intriguing piece of insight too.
Cassidy Albright seemed to respond to him with a lot more grace and fervour when he treated her with a slightly softer hand.
Perhaps the answer to gaining her complete and- more importantly- her genuine obedience was by adopting this strategy whilst he still had her in single-environment captivity.
The Archangel gritted his teeth, growling under his breath.
He needed to make the most of their situation as it was.
He wouldn't be able to ignore the burgeoning threat any longer and soon, he would have to take her to a place of greater security.
Cassidy played with the kitten's delicate ears, slowly running her finger along the velvety tips and letting the little tabby paw at her sleeves.
"You're just full of mischief, aren't you? Hasn't anyone ever told you that curiosity killed the…? Mhmm…forgetthat I said anything. Enjoy youth while you're young, play in every flowerbed and sleep on every sofa when you're older…"
It broke her heart slightly to have to part ways with the little sweetheart but she was still determined to get to the museum ahead of time. Above all things, she wanted to talk to Edmund Potter and to assure him that everything was back to "normal" with her. She didn't want his sympathy and she certainly didn't want him to worry about her.
With Hewitt gone, (a fact that cast a constant shadow of sadness over Cassidy), Edmund would surely have his work cut out for him.
Thankfully, the clouds above did not give way to rain and Cassidy managed to make it to the foyer of the Museum with hair, skin and clothes that were comfortably dry.
She looked around the lobby, expecting to have to narrowly dodge an overly apologetic, overly sympathetic Stanford.
But once again, fortune was in Cassidy's favour and the only member of staff that she passed on the way to the staff-room was Alexia Raye, one of the administrative historians.
Most of her work was done in the Museum's archives and libraries rather than in the field. That meant that usually, Cassidy didn't see much of Alexia and considering that she had very recently become everyone at the Museum's favourite topic of conversation, Cassidy considered this a good reason to smile as she greeted the younger woman.
Hopefully, Alexia hadn't bought into any of the many rumours that had been circulating amongst the staff regarding Cassidy's sanity.
"Morning," she said with a nod, shrugging her satchel up on to her shoulder.
"Ah, Cassidy!" Alexia returned brightly. "Good morning. How are you? It's nice to see you back again."
"It's good to be back," Cassidy admitted. "I'm fine, thanks. What about you? How are things in the archiving department?"
"I've been promoted, actually," the young historian announced with a wide smile. "I'm now working as Mr Potter's field assistant." She clicked her fingers, suddenly remembering something. "Which reminds me. He wanted to see you in the preparatory room as soon as possible. Apparently there's been an issue with the restoration of some kind of pillar. They've called in a few experts but from what I can gather, they've had no luck…"
Cassidy raised her eyebrows, heading off in the direction that Alexia pointed her in.
"I'll do what I can…"
She couldn't help but faintly chuckle to herself as she neared the preparation room. "So now Ed's the head of our department. Oh dear God help us all…well, at least maybe now his ego has been stroked sufficiently so that he no longer needs to sponge off my achievements…" Cassidy was quickly starting to feel as if things were back to normal and a warmth was already starting to spread through her chest. "Hmm…and with Alexia Raye as his assistant? Wow, Edmund's wishes are all certainly coming true. Let's just hope he doesn't frighten the poor girl with that he thinks is "flirtation"…"
She briefly cringed at the memory of Edmund's antics at the Christmas Party of '11.
Cassidy opened the preparation room door with her shoulder, attempting to balance the satchel on one arm as she rifled for her refining tools.
"So, I believe congratulations are in order. But first, where is this pillar…?"
Cassidy's speech slowed to a halt when she looked up and saw no sign of Edmund in the preparatory room.
Instead, there was a woman standing there, in the centre of the room, looking up at a partially restored Mayan statue.
Cassidy coughed, putting her bag aside. "Sorry…uh, good morning. I thought you were somebody else there, for a moment. You haven't seen Edmund Potter around, have you?"
Feeling like "who are you?" was quite a rude phrase to open a conversation with, Cassidy mustered up all of the politeness that she could manage and approached the woman.
"Eddie?" she mused with a chuckle, turning to face Cassidy. "Yes, he should be along soon…and not a moment too late, I hope."
There was something vaguely familiar about the woman that Cassidy couldn't quite place but she found herself instantly distracted by the stranger's beautifully constructed face, bright, twinkling eyes and very, very glossy lipstick.
All in all, it was glamour that Cassidy wasn't used to seeing in the Museum.
"So…uhm…," Cassidy swallowed, trying to re-rail her train of thought and aiding herself in this by looking up at the Mayan. "Are…are you here to help out with restoring the pillar? Do you know where it's currently being kept actually? Because I…"
Cassidy suddenly felt something circular and metallic pressed to her left temple.
She blinked, turning her head around only to find herself literally staring down into the barrel of a gun.
An old fashioned, six shot revolver, to be precise.
Cassidy knew this because she had done a write-up on one of those guns as part of the Roaring Twenties exhibit.
But that one had been an antique…this one was very, very much unretired and very, very real.
Click.
The young woman swallowed, her eyes slowly widening and the beautiful stranger's lipstick smile started to stretch.
"The name's Professor River Song, Cassidy Albright…and I'm very sorry…but I'm going to need you to scream for me, sweetie…"
Abigail Drake frowned at the fraying piece of notepaper that sat on the carpet in front of her. The yellow marker-pen had almost run out and she hadn't finished her drawing yet. The hollow plastic casing on the marker was starting to make her hand ache but alas, there was very little that could be done; the daffodils needed to be coloured in.
Abbie flexed one of her hands out, frowning at her ink-smeared knuckles as she considered swapping hands again.
Leon would be leaving for his special holiday with Shauna soon and she wanted to give him her picture before he left.
Abbie didn't know why but her older brother had been a little sad lately. He didn't whistle when he washed the dishes anymore and he didn't call her "little sprog" as often as he used to.
She hoped that his holiday with Shauna would make him feel better.
After all, when Sooty the rabbit had died last year, Abbie had felt much happier after their trip to Alton Towers for the weekend.
Abbie didn't know if Leon planned on going to Alton Towers with Shauna but maybe some time away from home would help him clear his head a little.
"Hey Abs?"
Leon poked his head around the door-frame and Abbie instantly threw herself on top of the drawing, sprawling like a starfish across the carpet of her bedroom.
Her older brother cocked an eyebrow. "Alright there? What are you up to?"
Abbie shrugged, hastily deciding that no answer at all was better than a lie.
Leon was far too good at telling when she was lying and she didn't want to spoil his surprise on him.
She had spent too long working on it already.
Her older brother raised an eyebrow and smiled, shaking his head. "Whatever you say. Just don't get your pyjamas dirty. Shauna and I are heading off in a few minutes, we're just waiting on Mrs Pattinson, ok? Hopefully she'll get here before our taxi does…"
Leon frowned at the thought as he returned to adding baggage labels to the suitcases in the hallway.
Abbie let out a sigh of relief and once she ascertained that the coast was clear, returned to her daffodils.
Her relief was short-lived however because only a few seconds later, Shauna was in the doorway.
"Hi there, Abbie!" she said with a smile, her lovely full, dark hair bouncing at each step as she walked into the room. "What are you working on there?"
She craned her neck to get a better look at Abbie's progress.
The little girl frowned slightly.
At this rate, with this many interruptions, she'd never finish the drawing on time.
Deciding to opt for efficiency over secrecy, Abbie looked to her older brother's girlfriend with extreme seriousness.
"Can you keep a secret?"
Shauna pretended to zip up her lips and nodded, briefly earning her the seven year old's trust.
"This is a picture that I'm drawing for Leon to give to him before he goes away. Don't tell him about it. It has to be a big surprise," Abbie explained, bringing a finger to her lips to emphasise the point. "I draw him something before every time he goes away. It makes him happy…"
Shauna raised her eyebrows, pressed her lips together and nodded. "I see."
Abbie went back to her drawing.
She knew that Shauna didn't really see because she made the face that every grown-up makes when they're trying to pretend that they know what you mean.
It was the eyebrow-lift and smiling eye-roll face.
It was the "I-pretend-I-understand-but-really-I-think-you're-silly" face.
And Abbie didn't like that face.
Not one bit.
Shauna started to talk again and Abbie started nodding.
She knew that her big brother's girlfriend was trying extra hard to be nice to her because she wanted them to be friends.
After all, they both really cared about Leon.
The younger girl sometimes felt a little bad for not liking Shauna.
There was nothing wrong with Shauna.
She just wasn't as fun to talk to as other grown-up ladies.
Other grown up ladies like Cassidy, for example.
Abbie felt bad for wishing that Leon would pick Cassidy for his girlfriend instead of Shauna because he and Shauna always looked so happy together…but she couldn't stop thinking of all the great fun she could have if Cassidy came over to their house every week.
Abbie could remember the first day that she met Cassidy.
It was a long time ago when she was six and not seven.
She was in the museum on a Friday morning for Lil'Diggers Club as always. Their games had ended early so she was waiting in the staff canteen until Leon finished his morning shift and he could take her home.
She had just opened her second packet of rainbow drops when she saw Cassidy for the first time. She had a big, heavy, leather briefcase weighing on one of her arms and she looked very nervous.
She tried to get a bottle of Coke from the vending machine but was finding a little harder than she expected. It wasn't long before the young woman was practically wrestling with the coin-slot, her blonde hair slowly unravelling from the neat plait that it had been in.
"It doesn't eat pounds," Abbie piped up, prompting Cassidy to turn around to look at her.
"P-Pardon?" she stammered in reply, trying to readjust the briefcase on the crook of her arm. "What was that?"
"The vending machine doesn't eat pounds," the little girl replied. "You can only feed it fifty pence and twenty pence if you want something out of it…"
"Oh, thanks," Cassidy said with a smile, eventually managing to retrieve her desired beverage before taking a seat opposite her. "Can you spit in seven different colours?"
Abbie blinked. "Whuh?"
"When you eat rainbow drops," Cassidy explained. "You're supposed to be able to spit in seven different colours. That's what it says in my favourite book, anyway…"
"What's your favourite book?"
"Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl."
"My teacher talked about that book in school. Is it really good?"
"The best I've ever read. You should read it sometime."
"I can't read that good yet…but I could get my brother to read it to me. He works here. Do you work here too, missus?"
Cassidy nodded, smiling faintly and leaning down on the table. "Yes, it's my first day actually." She tilted her head to one side. "And you don't have to call me "miss"…my name is Cassidy. Most people just call me Cass, though. Or Cassy sometimes. Well, my mum calls me Cassy anyway."
Abbie remembered how hard her first day of school had been.
She had been very nervous and making friends with the other children was not so fun.
The little girl decided then and there that she would become Cassidy's very first friend at the museum.
"Caaaaaassssiiiiddyyyy," Abbie said aloud, trying out the name on her tongue before giving a nod. "I like that name. My name is Abigail Drake. But most people just call me Abbie."
"It's nice to meet you, Abbie Drake. I like your name too," Cassidy replied, unscrewing the cap from her bottle and taking a sip.
"My mummy and daddy are in Heaven. They're angels now," Abigail said suddenly. Leon had told her that it wasn't a particularly nice thing to say during a conversation but his younger sister liked to get it out of the way nice and early.
People acted differently around her when they found out that her parents were angels in Heaven. They went from being really nice and friendly to being too nice and too friendly and they'd always ask her things like "Are you ok?" over and over again.
Abigail didn't like being asked that. Sometimes it was hard not having a mummy or a daddy but she was ok with her big brother and her Nanny Kate.
She didn't really remember her daddy anyway.
He had died when she was three and her mummy had died on the day that she was born.
It was bad enough when Leon got sad about it because he could actually remember both of them but everyone expected her to get upset too…and she felt bad because she just couldn't.
It was really, really hard to explain to people why not having a mummy and a daddy didn't make her cry like it made her brother cry.
If Cassidy was one of those people who was going to turn all weird then Abigail would rather that they not become best friends before that.
She was expecting Cassidy to put on that sad-smile face but she didn't.
She put on a real-smile face.
"Oh? So they're watching over you and looking out for you now? That's great. My granny is an angel in Heaven too," Cassidy told her, taking another drink before putting the bottle aside. "Do you think maybe your mummy and daddy and my granny know each other? Do you think maybe they go to the café in Heaven together?"
It was then that Abbie decided on it.
She and Cass were definitely going to be best friends from now on.
The next day, Cassidy brought in the book Charlie and the Chocolate Factory for Leon to read to her.
Cassidy and Leon became friends very quickly and that meant that Abbie could see her new best friend all the time.
The more time she spent with Cassy, the more Abbie wanted Cassy to spend lots of time with her. She wanted Cassy to be the one who came over to their house every week.
She wanted Cassy to be the one who came over to have dinner, stayed overnight and then had breakfast with them too.
She wanted Cassy to take her to the park with Leon and all three of them could get ice-cream and play on the swings and have fun together.
Abigail was pulled from her thoughts by her hand being prodded.
It was Shauna, lightly poking her knuckle with the green crayon, smiling down at her.
"I think you might need this one, Abbie," she suggested softly, placing the waxen nub down on to the paper.
"…thanks," Abbie mumbled in response, continuing her work.
Maybe she wanted Cassy to be the one who was with Leon but Shauna was the one who was making her brother happy right now.
Maybe both of her wishes couldn't come true but the more important wish of the two was already granted.
Her big brother was happy.
"Finished," Abbie declared, looking down at her picture in triumph; her deadline had been defeated and not a second too soon either.
Right then and there, Leon strode into the room, partially stumbling in the doorway as he tried to lug a heavy suitcase over the threshold. "Right then…that's the last one packed…but still, Roberta's nowhere to be seen…"
Shauna laughed slightly, rising to assist him with the suitcase.
"What have I told you about trying to move these things alone? Your arms are going to snap off one of these days, Lee." She giggled, kissing his cheek. "She'll be here in a few minutes. Stop worrying."
Leon sighed, forced to smile at his girlfriend's affections but still looking rather concerned. "The taxi's going to arrive in less than five minutes and we can't leave Abbie in the house alone…"
"Well, the Hutchinsons only live a few streets away so Roberta can't be very far. Abbie could wait a few minutes, couldn't she?"
"She might have to," Leon heaved another sigh, rolling his eyes. "Finally I manage to get some time off and it has to be during Kate's pilgrimage to Lourdes…"
"Shh, relax," Shauna soothed, patting his chest and gesturing into the bedroom. "Look Abbie has something for you. I think it might give you a little lift…"
The tall brunette winked at the little redhead, beckoned her to come forward and Abbie responded by scrambling forward with her finished artwork in hand.
"Here," Abbie squeaked, bashful as always as she presented the carefully drawn picture to her older brother. "I made this for you…"
Leon's face brightened up immediately. "Ah, now this is what I look forward to the very most about going away." He beamed as his eyes traced every faintly drawn stem, every carefully coloured petal and the wobbly little signature in biro pen that marked the right hand side of the page. "And you remembered to sign it! Like a real artist!"
"Like Picollo and Mateech," Abbie pointed out proudly, almost one hundred percent sure that she'd managed to pronounce the names properly this time.
A taxi horn blared from outside, causing both of the Drake siblings to jump slightly.
"No," Leon groaned. "He's here early, damn it." He folded Abbie's drawing with cautious precision before slipping it into the pocket of his jacket. "And Mrs Hutchinson still isn't here to look after you."
"Could you get through to her on the phone?" Shauna queried, starting to drag the suitcase back into the hall.
"I've been trying for the last hour or so," her boyfriend insisted. "No reply. If she's letting her phone ring out, that usually means that she's driving." He looked down towards Abbie, clicking his tongue. "Mmm…if we don't go now, we'll be late for check-in…Abbie would you mind staying here for one or two minutes 'til Mrs Hutchinson gets here? It'll be just like when I pop to the shop for a carton of milk."
Abbie nodded. "It's ok…"
With team-work enviable by an Olympic rowing team, Shauna and Leon managed to get their suitcase down the stairs and out the front steps. Leon brought his younger sister to the doorway to give her one last run-through his usual going-away checklist.
"So what are you going to do now?"
"Go back to my room and don't open the door for anyone at all because Missus Hutchinson has a house-key."
"Ok. What happens if Mrs Hutchinson doesn't get here when the little hand of the clock gets to four o'clock?"
"Call you up on your phone."
"Where is the house phone?
"On the hall table."
"Where are all the emergency numbers?"
"On the front of the fridge on the pink paper."
"Where are all your clean towels and pyjamas?"
"In the hot press."
"Where's the money for pizza?"
"Underneath the umbrella stand in the hall."
"And when will I be back?"
"Wednesday."
"And who loves you the most?"
"You do!" Abbie jumped up, grabbing her brother around the neck and giving him a tight hug. "I love you. Have a good time with Shauna…and don't lose your picture, kay?"
"I won't!" Leon assured her as he stepped out the front door, still grinning and making silly faces at her through the window as he locked the door behind him. "Bye bye, Abbie."
Abbie mouthed her farewell and hurriedly clambered upstairs to watch her brother as he made his way down the front-path. She watched as he tripped over one of the garden ornaments trying to get out the garden gate.
She watched as Shauna laughed at her brother and helped him up.
She watched as her brother laughed too and kissed the beautiful brown-haired girl on the lips.
The little girl sighed, leaning on one hand and slumping on her shoulders.
There was no way Leon was ever going to fall in love with Cassidy now.
He was far too in love with Shauna.
Then again, even if he wasn't with Shauna, Abbie mused as she wandered across the bedroom, it still wouldn't be that easy. After all, Cassidy had somebody else who wanted to be with her.
And that somebody wasn't going to let her go no matter what.
That somebody was Michael.
Abbie could vividly remember the first time that Michael spoke to her.
It was only a few days after she had first seen him in the back room of the museum.
She had been following her brother on one of his tours and she had gotten a little bit bored. She had wanted to find Cassidy for a chat and broke away from the group on the third floor to find the preparation room where her friend was usually pottering around, restoring statues and polishing ceramics.
When the little girl finally managed to happen upon the door to her desired room, she was delighted to find that it had been left unlocked.
Her best friend Cassy wasn't in there but the angel statue was.
Abbie had been curious about the statue from the first moment that she set eyes on him.
She knew that he could move.
She had seen him move.
He wasn't like the other statues in the museum.
Leon wouldn't believe her but Abbie knew what she had seen that day in the prep room. One minute, his arm was covering his eyes. The next, his arm was by his side and he was staring down at her with his sightless eyes.
Just like he was now.
"I know you can move," Abbie told him, slowly edging nearer and nearer with mounting confidence. "Can you talk?"
As she looked up into the angel statue's face, she could feel her temples starting to tingle, this weird feeling spreading from the sides of her head to the very peak of her crown- where both of her bobbled pigtails were perched.
"No. Not of my own accord, infant, but I can use your brain to communicate with you."
Abbie could hear his voice in her ears but it felt like the sound was moving in the wrong direction; it felt like it was going from the inside out rather than the outside in.
"Can all statues talk?"
"I am no statue. I am a living being not of your world."
"Does Cassidy know that?! Can you talk to Cassidy too? She's the lady who looks after you. It would make her job more easy if you could talk to her…"
"Your brain is juvenile and has more plasticity to the manipulation of your auditory functioning."
Abbie didn't know what that meant but ever since that day, the Angel talked to her a lot.
Mostly in her sleep.
At first, she wasn't so afraid.
In Sunday School, Abbie had learned that Angels were very important and that if an Angel wanted to talk to you, it was probably for a very good reason.
Then Michael started asking her all the questions.
All the questions about Cassidy.
He asked her lots of hard questions about Cassidy and he would get very angry if she wasn't able to answer him.
Then one night, the Angel came and took her away with him.
He said that Abbie was going to help him to make sure Cassidy stayed with him forever.
"You can't do that!" she told him. "You can't make her do that if she doesn't want to!"
"I can make her do as I please. Cassidy Albright belongs to me."
Abbie pulled her secret copybook out from under her mattress and flipped the pages until she got to her most recent drawing. She took the blue crayon up from the carpet of her room and finished colouring the sides of the blue box in the picture.
The little girl knew that things could have gone very badly if the Doctor hadn't showed up in his magic blue box. The Doctor promised that he would come back and save her whenever he could.
"He's like Santa Claus," Abbie decided, smiling a little as she sat back to look at her drawing. "He knows when people need him and he comes along to help them…he's brilliant…"
She looked up at the powder blue teddy that sat at the end of the bed as if she expected him to open his faintly stitched mouth and to add some kind of comment of his own.
As always, Abbie was prompted that Trevor Bear's silence was an indicator of his agreement.
Abbie continued to a draw and scribble to her heart's content until eventually she noticed that the big hand on her Disney Princesses clock had moved in an entire circle.
The little girl frowned deeply, suddenly very aware that she had been doing a lot of frowning that day.
Her older brother had said that Mrs Hutchinson would be over in "a few minutes."
Abbie wasn't sure what "a few minutes" looked like on a clock but she knew that it was a lot less of a move than an entire circle.
She slowly clambered from her bed and moved back over to the window.
There was no one coming up the driveway, no one coming up the path and there wasn't even a car headed towards the house.
Abbie rested her head on her hands for a moment, confusion slowly stealing over her.
Did Mrs Hutchinson get lost?
But why would she get lost?
She had been over to the house plenty of times before.
Then the doorbell rang, prompting Abbie to look around with a jump.
Her little eyebrows furrowed, her mouth falling a little slack as she peered out of her bedroom doorway, on to the darkened landing.
She hadn't seen anybody walk up the gravel path to the house…
The doorbell rang again.
Abbie slowly padded out into the hall and slowly shuffled down the stairs, looking down at the front door with every step. She could make out the blurry silhouetted outline of a person standing at the door.
Maybe it was Mrs Hutchinson and Abbie had just not seen her from the bedroom window.
"Hello?" Abbie called out, her voice riddled with uncertainty. "Missus Hutchisooon!? Is that you?"
There was no reply and the little girl felt uneasy as she reached the door, her stomach tightening with every step she took.
Each slow and hesitant footfall was becoming increasingly shaky as she reached the front door. Abbie squinted to look through the frosted glass but she could make out no features to define the figure at the door as being anyone that she knew.
She was going to try calling out again but suddenly the doorbell rang once more and robbed her of her voice. Her mouth turned dry as she stood on tiptoe to try to reach the spy-hole in the door, as Leon so often did, to take a look at who was out on the porch.
Try as she might, she couldn't reach it.
Her palms starting to grow cold and slightly sticky with a fearful sweat, Abbie held her breath as she took the spare key from under the doormat and quaveringly unlocked the door.
The little girl was prepared for anything.
After her time with the Doctor, Abigail Drake liked to think that she was indeed, prepared for anything.
But she wasn't prepared for nothing.
Which was precisely why Abbie was so taken aback to see just that on the porch.
Nothing.
No one.
There was absolutely nobody there.
Abbie walked out of the front door and down on to the main steps leading to the house, her little, lightly freckled face slowly growing more and more confused with every passing second.
Was someone playing a trick on her?
She had definitely heard the doorbell ring and she had definitely seen someone at the front door.
"Didn't I? Or did I?" Abbie wondered aloud, her head starting to hurt again.
Her head was hurting a lot that day.
Heaving a sigh and deciding that she needed a glass of chocolate milk to nurse herself back to contentment, Abbie turned on heel and headed back up into the house once more.
But the moment Abbie stepped back over the threshold, she didn't want a sweet treat anymore. Her stomach started to feel sick again. The house was very quiet.
It had been quiet before…but Abbie was starting to notice just how quiet it was, a little more now.
Swallowing, she closed the door behind her and locked it once more.
The door creaked- just as it always did- and the creak rang out throughout the entire house, briefly breaking the silence.
Only briefly.
The quiet settled back into place rather quickly.
Abbie took a deep breath as she crouched down to place the key under the doormat.
She didn't know why, but she felt as if now would be a good time to call one of the emergency numbers that Leon gave her.
Even if the little girl wasn't fully sure of why she suddenly felt so uncomfortable, Mrs Hutchinson was late and Abbie knew that she wasn't supposed to be alone in the house for a long time.
Just as she was reaching on to the hall-table for the phone, something behind her moved.
Specifically, Abbie heard the floorboards creak and bend under the weight of something heavy.
They made the noise that they usually only made when someone was walking down the hall.
Abbie turned around, whipping her head to lock her vision on to the partially-darkened hall, clutching the phone to her chest and breathing heavily.
"H-Hello? Who's there?" she asked, though her voice was barely a whisper.
Abbie didn't like how quickly the sun went down on winter evenings; the house was already half-submerged in the premature darkness that heralded the coming of night.
Another creak sounded in the depths of the hallway, causing Abbie to immediately move backwards.
Her back bumped against the glossy wood of the front door and it was only when she could hear the door rattling in its hinges behind her that Abbie realised she was shivering rather violently.
Abbie tried to call out again but found herself unable to speak, only a shrill breath escaping her mouth.
She tried to move her fingers to the keys of the phone but found that her body had stopped obeying her.
Abigail Drake could only stare down into the darkness, listening as the creaks slowly grew louder and louder.
She wanted to run but with her legs unresponsive, she could only continue to stare.
Stare into the faceless shadows.
Stare into the blackness.
Into the dark.
And out of the dark, something stared right back at her.