Protect and Follow
By: MusketeerAdventure
Summary: This takes place during the episodes Heir of Salvation, Mouth of the Damned; and The Narrow Gate. Alex finds he has an unexpected gift to add to his arsenal as the "chosen one" – Noma fears it; Pete is the grateful one; Michael searches for his faith in Mallory - the journey to and in New Delphi is fraught with unexpected revelations; and hope is plentiful – for the moment.
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dogluvva99; andlausa; Eziliveve; and guest
for your wonderful comments and support.
Your reviews have given me the encouragement to keep going with this!
Thank you!
Chapter Four: Brave not Foolish
The sharp retort of a single gunshot resounded; echoed through the night – cutting through the silence between he and Laurel – effectively ending their standoff; her faith versus his lack of it.
Laurel looked to him; her brow creased with concern. Gunshots within town limits were rare and usually meant that attack from the eight balls was eminent. She reached for her weapon and raced from the house, into the night. Michael followed after her; but in his heart already knew what she would find.
When they reached the center of town – the flames emanating from the statue sent out a warm golden glow – giving the otherwise quiet night a false sense of security and peace. Wes stumbled toward them – distraught – tears flowing down his cheeks; his voice choked with emotion as he confessed to doing what needed to be done to save Mallory. He swiped at his tears and staggered on; never looking back – ready to confess his sin; gesturing toward the church. "I'll be waiting", he yelled after her retreating form.
As he watched Wes leave the scene; and make his way up the church steps; Laurel broke into a frantic run – racing toward a fallen Harper – laid out neatly in the dirt; her hands obviously placed, folded over her blood soaked breasts. The glow of the flames – highlighted the tone of her skin – giving her the appearance of serene slumber.
Michael followed slowly in Laurel's wake – his mind knowing but unable to catch up to the event unfolding in front of him. He had coerced Harper into keeping his secret – and now she was dead.
When he reached her side – Laurel had already abandoned her weapon – fallen to her knees and lifted Harper into her arms. The blood stain - rusting at her heart; spilled over to Laurel's – twin stains for shared sacrifices.
"Oh no Harper", she cried; and rocked back and forth, weeping – sobs so great and wrenching it caused Michael to wince in sympathy. The pain of her grief – spoke to him on many levels. Harper had been her friend; her sister and her responsibility.
Michael knelt beside her in the dirt and touched her shoulder – but Laurel was lost; her chest heaving – her eyes and nose running in tandem with her wails. He watched her look to the statue – outreached arms reaching to heaven for solace - and then buried her head in Harper's neck to mourn – clenching her teeth tight together – attempting to hold back her screams.
This was his doing. Wes had killed her – believing this was the way – but it was he who had forced her to keep his secret; and so his lack of faith had sealed her death. He looked down at Harper; a bullet hole blasted through her heart; and felt anger rise in him at this terrible act. What kind of faith was this that led to such callousness?
He looked again to Laurel – and concluded – the kind that saved a town in the midst of incomprehensible horror.
Laurel had tried to tell him – explain to him that secrets were sins. To keep a secret; would bring destruction to the whole town – every man, woman, and child. He had not believed her; had not believed how important it was to confess this one secret – that wasn't even hers. Well, now he knew. Here before him lay another lesson in sacrifice.
Michael bowed his head low, and leaned close to Laurel in her sorrow, "I'm sorry", he whispered, "forgive me." Laurel lifted her head and penetrated him with a stare of sadness and confusion. "Forgive what Michael? This wasn't your fault. I tried, but she wouldn't share her confession."
He returned her gaze – but was unable to give her the truth – even now. Instead he sat silently with her in the dirt- gripping her shoulder in support, as she stroked Harper's face; pushed back wayward strands of hair; and kissed her cheek.
Slowly residents of Mallory left their homes; and joined them – uncertain of what may have happened – but ready to give comfort; remove Harper from the shadow of the flames; and help in any way they could. They gave witness to Laurel's grief with their own sorrows. Harper had been a part of them also – a member of their family. Here again was another life taken; another life sacrificed – even before the celebration – given to protect them all.
Michael scanned the gathering group of neighbors he had come to know. These people had welcomed him into this community; and had allowed him – though reluctantly; and with some trepidation – to be a part of them. All in all, they were good people – living under stressful and unusual circumstances. He noticed Mr. and Mrs. Gallahan waiting with a horse and buckboard. He nodded to them and they nodded back, acknowledging his need to help Laurel – and their willingness to stay nearby until needed.
As time passed, Laurel leaned back from Harper; and sighed deeply. "I will see you soon", she whispered, "and we will be together again." She looked up at the faces of Mallory; relinquished her hold; and swiped tiredly at the tears still trickling from her eyes.
Michael stood, reached down and helped her to her feet – steadying her as she swayed into him – dizzy with exhaustion and regret.
She pushed away from him gently; and reached down to the ground to retrieve her weapon. The neighbors, with infinite care lifted Harper into the Gallahan buckboard; and headed off to prepare her for her own divine journey.
A small sob released from Laurel's throat as she made her way to the church doors to hear Wes' confession. She paused with her hand on the knob, weak with grief – but this had to be done; and there was no one else to do it. Michael made to follow her in – but Laurel held up her hand for him to stop, "I need to do this alone", she said – entered the sanctuary and closed the door behind her.
Michael stood uncertain for a moment; looking upward to the sky for some sort of guidance. Hearing none – he followed his neighbors to say good bye to Harper; and in that moment thought of Alex and their rift and hoped to see him again – to say things that needed to be said – before time and events made it impossible.
Alex sat alongside Pete, who lay on the sofa in Julian's private chambers; watching anxiously as Noma paced back and forth in agitation. Armed men and eight balls stood around them with weapons trained on them; at the ready – itching to blame or kill someone for bringing this death and destruction to their near peaceful community.
Pete hissed in pain as Alex probed about his ribs and back – feeling for any breaks that may have occurred with his one sided fight with an angel.
They had been escorted here not long ago – after the showdown in the "market" with Gabriel and his soldiers – and now awaited an audience with Julian.
Alex squeezed Pete's neck and assured him, "You're okay. Nothing's broken, but you'll feel sore for a time." He lowered Pete's shirt and helped him to sit up. Pete grabbed his ribs and shook his head; unconvinced at what his own eyes had witnessed. He had stood before an angel – who had tried to kill him with his wings. How crazy was that?
However, looking at the pinched faces of Alex and Noma, let him know that this was the norm; and not crazy at all. Hell – this was no crazier than being possessed, he guessed. He watched his two friends closely; and made a decision. He had survived something epic here, and wanted to help.
Pete grabbed a hold of Alex's arm and held fast, "Get me a weapon Alex, and I'll fight alongside you. You can count on me", he said earnestly – his eyes shining with determination. Alex reached for his hand and squeezed back; searching his face and then asked, "Do you still see it Pete? When you look at me, do you still see that light?"
Pete was confused by the answer to his request, but answered, "Yes", and nodded with a slight smile "I can hear you too." Alex frowned – uncertain as to what this meant. "It's like you call to me. And if you let me Alex, I will do anything you ask. I want to help you win this war."
Noma stopped abruptly in her tracks and held her arms out in exasperation. "Do you hear that Alex?" she asked with an incredulous tinge to her retort and pointed to Pete. "He has no idea what he's talking about – hasn't a clue to what it means to be at war. Gabriel will come back here and kill us all. And he will show us as much mercy as he showed Neero – his own soldier."
She turned away from them, and continued to pace; roam the room – back and forth – the urge to unfurl her power and manhandle Alex out of here overwhelming her senses. Her need to protect him at all costs at war with following his lead.
"I may not understand everything that's going on here Noma – but I can pull a trigger and shoot." Pete ground through clenched teeth – trying to keep his voice low. After everything he had witnessed since being reborn; and after actually seeing a real live angel and almost being crushed by his wings – he was not going to back down.
Alex held up his hands between the two – hoping to stave off an argument.
At that, Noma ceased her pacing and plopped down on the sofa next to them; leaned over and placed her head in her hands. "What are we going to do Alex?" She moaned, knowing the predicament they found themselves in was precarious at best.
Alex could see how tired and frustrated Noma was; but his plan would work. He just needed her to be patient – not reveal herself and follow his lead. Aloud he voiced, "Whatever we have to – to secure this alliance and take down Gabriel."
They looked to each other with uncompromising intensity – "I swear Noma – I will do whatever it takes. This war has to end. Six billion people – dead. I won't let Claire be among that number." Alex then leaned back and closed his eyes, attempting to regulate his heart beat; and control his breathing. Thinking of Claire – Vega; and death always put him off kilter. He needed to gather his wits and now somehow find the words to convince Julian of his vision.
Noma leaned back as well and felt fear rise up in her belly. This was a bad idea; and she should tell Alex so. She could sense that Julian was not someone to be trusted; but Alex was adamant. Should she reach out to Michael – tell him where they were and hope that he would answer?
She turned to look at him and watched him meditating; trying to shore himself up to whatever was going to happen next – and smiled slightly at Pete mimicking his actions – his eyes closed also; breathing slow and easy.
She chuckled and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes and thought – like two peas in a pod – and could not remember where she had heard such a saying.
She opened her eyes and considered Pete sadly; and knew instinctively that he probably – barring some miracle – would not survive this campaign. He was game enough and foolish enough to give all he had to give – which was only his life; and she could not help but to admire that. But how would Alex react if he lost Pete here after only just bringing him back to humanity?
She had not foreseen the almost instant attachment between the two. Was it a byproduct of the eviction? What about her own attachment? What was that a byproduct of? It went beyond friendship; and Michael's orders to protect him – that she was sure of. Outside of that she wasn't clear on what she felt; only that her feelings ran deep.
She stood up to pace again; the armed guards watching her closely, as she tried to walk off excess energy from her mind and body – here in this small room – full of all things old and even older.
Then Julian stepped into the room – sucking the air out of it with his dark aura and magnetism. Alex stood quickly to his feet with Pete at his shoulder. Noma thought with apprehension, let the negotiations begin; and soon after, Alex revealed his markings; and confessed to being the chosen one.
Michael stood on the steps of the church, watched the sun rise; and took a moment to relish this everyday miracle. Right here - now - he could sense God, speaking through the sunrise - of beauty and creation. Everything around him seemed so peaceful – as pink and orange hues streamed among the fluff of clouds overhead.
It was hard to believe that tonight would be the celebration; and Laurel's sacrifice. He couldn't bear to see her leave this world; so he wanted to get a last look at Mallory before saying his goodbyes to her. Staying here to watch her end her life was not why he had stayed.
Two nights ago – after preparing Harper to rest alongside her parents – he had made the decision to leave Mallory and find Alex – to apologize for leaving and make it up to him; do whatever it took to regain his trust and together fight this war and end it.
He had thought remaining here would help him find his faith – and though it had not come back to him the way he had thought – in a way it had made him more determined than ever to listen for his Father's voice in all things.
Yesterday in the heat of the sun, he had watched as Laurel dug her own grave in the hard, dusty earth – her hands covered in blisters and her face flushed red. She had confessed to him that the celebration was more of a sacrifice; an observance of past Mallory leaders and recognition of five more years of protection. She had volunteered to hear Mallory's confessions and now that they had all been heard; it was time for her to leave and take them with her.
His heart had clenched at the time; and he had found it hard to believe such a thing – but thinking on Harper – he believed now.
As he left the church – he tried not to think about what would take place there tonight. Laurel – who loved these people – who loved God, would be no more – sacrificed to save them all. He pushed the thought of it aside; and continued walking toward the school house.
From under the window – he could hear the teacher, Ms. Tracey, call and recite the mantra to prepare the children for the night's celebration, "Reverend Phillips met the prophet – who started the fire to protect us all through sacrifice."
The children's voices rang out in unison to answer her, "Secrets are sin. Confession is our salvation."
Ms. Tracey recited again, "Reverend Phillips met the prophet – who started the fire to protect us all through sacrifice."
Innocent voices called to her once more, "We keep the flame to cleanse our souls."
Ms. Tracey forged on, "Reverend Phillips met the prophet – who started the fire to protect us all through sacrifice."
And the children concluded, "The fire lit will keep us safe."
A brief moment of silence floated through the window; and then their voices were lifted in song – reaching out to God to profess their love.
As the voices drifted dreamily over the town, Michael moved on and made a point to stop at the home of Mr. Rooney – whose son he had helped to bury that night of the storm. They sat on the porch together – neither one of them speaking – only looking out solemnly over Mallory and her people as they moved about living their lives.
Michael thought back on that night and Mr. Rooney's courageous spirit. Would he be so stoic; so accepting if he were to lose Alex or his own brother in battle? When he left Mr. Rooney's porch – he only nodded and made his way toward the stables.
While he walked, he wondered on how Wes' act fit into all this. In his mind, murder was committed here – murder under the guise of protecting the town. However, Laurel and the others didn't see it that way. Harper's sacrifice protected the town, and that's all that mattered. To him – Wes was just as much a danger as the possessed eight balls beyond Mallory limits; only the people here were blind to it. He would find a way - to see to it, that Wes never committed such an act again.
The sight of Laurel entering the stables interrupted his musings and he stood still in his tracks, wondering if now was a good time to say goodbye – to tell her of his decision to leave. He took a deep breath, approached the stables and entered quietly.
As he drew near, he watched as she weighed a weapon – a small knife – in her hands; the very weapon perhaps she would use this night to take her own life. He stood still at her side and placed a hand on her shoulder – frowning – not comfortable feeling so disjointed.
He knew for certain – he could not see her do this thing. He felt something for her – felt grateful that Father had led him here to find her – to see that there was still something good; no someone good – in this world. And that goodness was her.
She touched his arm and he could sense the fear in her. Though she was brave – he could tell her resolve was frayed. "You are afraid", he stated and when she said, "Yes" – there were tears in her eyes and her lips trembled.
He drew her to him and kissed her forehead – and seeing that she did not object – then her lips; gently at first with care, and then with understanding. Her mouth opened to his as if she had always been waiting – waiting for this exact moment in time to happen – and relaxed into his body; tense with wanting her.
He reached down and brushed the hair from her face; and locked eyes with her – waiting for her to be sure that this was what she wanted. She dropped the knife to the ground and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him down until they both began to stumble toward an empty horse stall; and fell unceremoniously into the hay and straw.
When he fell with her landing on top of him, she breathed in the scent of him at his neck and held onto him tight – crying in his arms – unable to stop trembling; the act of sacrifice frightening her – wondering if she would be brave enough to go through with it.
Michael stroked her hair – her neck; and her back and held her close – whispering to her of her bravery – her love – her willingness to sacrifice; and how proud he was to know her; and how God surely held her in high esteem.
He could feel her wet lashes flutter at his neck and he shivered with desire; as she relaxed with trust and certainty. She drew in closer and whispered back, "Will you love me?" her hand splayed over his heart – feeling the beat of it through her palm.
Michael grabbed hold of her hand and pressed it harder to his chest and nodded, "Yes", and kissed her lips again – then the hollow of her neck, then her shoulder and finally her palm, where the warmth of him lingered.
When they undressed and sat before each other – bare – among the straw, with the sun filtering in through the windows; the noise of life taking place around them; and the voices of children raised up in song – he cupped her cheek – took in her beauty; and did as she asked; and lay with her.
No, loved her.
Pete and Noma sat on the cool floor outside the asylum, and listened to the tortured screams of the insane possessed. Their voices seeped through the bottom of the iron clad door; out into the cold hallway – and gave the hollow space the eerie feeling of a haunting. The noise was incessant – nonstop; and frightening.
Pete held onto Alex's coat as if it were a life line. If he let it go – put it down – he would most likely drown. He had tried to tell Alex not to go in that place – beyond those doors was nothing good – only death and insanity. He knew how important this was to Alex – to prove his worth to Julian – but to go in there alone – was it foolish or brave?
To find a key among so many was an impossible task; and a suicide mission to boot. Whatever this key would open surely was not worth his life. He could save Vega some other way, couldn't he?
Julian stood a few feet from them with his own men; and Pete could sense the evil in him, even if he professed to want the same things as Alex – peace and the Archangel Gabriel's death.
He squint his eyes and pierced a hard stare at the back of Julian's head with anger. If anything happened to Alex – he would try his best to find a way to kill him.
As if sensing his stare – Julian turned to gauge Pete with a curious glare of his own. Pete dropped his gaze quickly, fear pressed down on his heart – making it hard for him to breathe. He squeezed the coat even tighter – wishing the door would open; and for Alex to walk through unharmed.
Noma sat next to Pete and could feel the unease rolling off him in waves – crashing into her – giving her a sense of foreboding.
Why wouldn't Alex listen to her? She should have ignored what he wanted, and gone with him – used her strength to help him. Instead his instructions to her were to look after Pete and protect Vega. How was she to do that without him? He was everything to her. Without him, nothing mattered – not the war – the safety of Vega – none of it.
She looked toward the asylum door and for the hundredth time during the past hour – willed him to be okay – to not be reckless – and to think before he acted. Eight balls were unpredictable at best – but crazy ones, and with only a flashlight and a knife as defense?
She tilted her head back and sighed – her worry mixed with Pete's worry causing her heartbeat to accelerate and a headache to develop just above her right eye. She massaged her aching head and groaned. What would she do without him? How would she explain his death to Michael – or Claire?
What would life be without Alex Lannon?
She knew he loved Claire – they were having a child together. His whole purpose in living was to protect them – make a new, safer world for them. But what of her; what did he feel for her?
Down very deep – she knew she loved him and that in some way he loved her too. But it wasn't the same. He would never love her the way he loved Claire. Noma shook her head and dismissed it all from her mind. There was no room for it. They were at war and her job was to protect the chosen one – if he would only let her.
She grabbed Pete's hand – which gripped Alex's coat so tight his knuckles were white – and squeezed it – giving him a smile that she hoped came across as reassuring. He smiled a little back at her and held the coat out for her to take – a sweet gesture; but unnecessary.
She pushed it back toward him and spoke with a confidence she did not feel, "He's going to be okay." And just in that moment, there was banging at the door; and muffled voices screaming to be let out.
Pete and Noma scrambled to their feet – yelling for Julian to open the door.
When he stepped through – exhausted; sweaty – holding up the round, golden key – with General Reisen at his side – Noma rushed him; flung her arms about his neck and kissed him hard. Surprised by her own reaction to his return; but glad of it – she kissed him with all the love and relief she could give, holding back nothing – with Pete smiling ridiculously wide beside them.
Pete took in their joy; gave a small little fist pump and thought – brave then it was; not foolish at all.
Michael stood outside the protected perimeter of Mallory and vowed never to forget Mallory; Laurel, what he had learned here; and what she had given him.
That Father was here on Earth – in that he still loved mankind and wished them to survive was now more evident to him than ever before. That He was here and perhaps had never really left was a revelation to him.
Gabriel need not commit atrocities to lure him back; God was here among them – watching; gauging and waiting. He could be heard and seen if he really listened; and Laurel had taught him to listen – to serve – and to sacrifice.
She had given him the gift of love and faith. She had allowed him to take over the sins of others and sacrifice his life for their safe keeping. Something he had never contemplated before.
Truly God had led him here – to speak to him – not as he did before – but in this new way.
So, now he was listening. He would go and find Alex – beg his forgiveness; and make things right between them. They would fight this war together – his faith restored; and a willingness to sacrifice now understood.
He would miss Laurel; but was glad she would now live to see her life fulfilled.
Michael took one last glance at the church below; and reveled in the voices lifted in song. He unfurled his wings and took flight.
Thank you so much for reading; please review to let me know what you think. I enjoy filling in those hidden moments in the episode and hope you like them. I agree with my guest reviewer that the last episode of Dominion was the BEST episode ever – so far! Here's to hoping the best for Pete! Also I want to take a moment to thank those of you who have favorited and/or following this story.