In the arms of the angel
Fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
In the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here
--from Angel by Sarah McLachlan
He was back in the cornfield.
"Mordecai," he called unsurely, waving the beam of his flashlight around. "Jedediah, where are you?" He pushed through the corn nervously. "Come on, this isn't funny! Where are you?" He walked a little farther, feeling his confidence bend a little more. The corn was unnerving all by itself, and if he stayed out here much longer, his warped bravery was sure to snap. "Guys?" he said slowly. "Where are you?" A noise reached his ears, just a trace of it. A cry of pain, a moan of agony, a scream that came from someone who should've been long dead. He whirled and brandished the beam of his flashlight like a weapon, trying to stay calm. "Are you there?" Nothing answered. The corn waved eerily back and forth in the breeze. He swallowed the lump in his throat and moved closer towards the noise. "Mordecai?" he said weakly, but he knew it wasn't Mordecai.
("Come to me, my child.")
The voice was terrible, echoing through his mind and tearing at things as it went.
("Isaac has failed me, and now you must take his place.")
He couldn't move for a moment, because the hideous thing was heading towards him. Finally, he found his voice and feet -- and ran.
"No!" He stumbled through the corn, running desperately. Running like a coward. But that face, and that voice...
("Come see the truth, my child.")
"No! No!" He staggered and found himself facing the monster, falling backwards into the corn. But the corn wouldn't protect him, that was for sure. "NO! Help!" It towered above him, tall and hideous and powerful -- and it smiled.
("You are my chosen. Come. There is much work to do.")
He waited for the searing pain, for the white-hot light and the unbearable noise. Nothing came. Instead, he heard a voice -- Gabe's.
"Leave." The thing hesitated over him, one vile hand outstretched.
("The boy is mine. This is none of your affair.")
He looked around wildly for the source of Gabe's voice, but didn't see anything.
"Gabe?" he said weakly, and the thing moved closer.
("Silence. There is no hope for you now.")
"Speak not of what you know nothing about." Gabe's voice was louder and more forceful, but he still couldn't see where she was. "He is not yours to claim." The thing trembled in rage -- or perhaps fear -- or maybe both.
("He is mine! Take your meddling elsewhere!")
"Gabe," he tried again, and her voice was closer.
"Silence, child." The beam of his flashlight flickered and finally went out. The cornfield was plunged into darkness, but only for a moment; something was glowing dimly. He looked down and saw it.
The angel necklace.
It glowed with a soft golden light, and it was an even bigger surprise when the angel's lips moved and Gabe's voice came out of them.
"He is not yours to claim," she repeated. "Stop this and go back to Hell where you belong." The thing took a step back, but its disgusting lip was curled into a sneer. It might be losing, but it wouldn't admit it.
"My mark is on him, very clearly--"
"Your mark means nothing in the eyes of God." The angel glowed a little brighter, and the thing took another step back. "Release the boy and leave this place."
("NO! This is MY land, these are MY children, and you WILL NOT--")
"God commands it," Gabe's voice said quietly. The thing stumbled backwards, disappearing into the corn.
("NO! I will not be defeated so easily!")
"Step down." The angel lifted the horn to its lips and blew, one long and beautiful note. The thing screamed, turned tail, and ran. He was feeling relieved now, weak with relief -- or perhaps just weak. Gabe's voice was in his ear now. "God has a plan for you, Micah. And it is not to be used as a tool for the Evil One. Return to us, child. Return and reclaim your temple as your own."
His eyes drifted open very, very slowly.
(I'm dead)
The figures and shadows around him shifted threateningly.
(Gabe killed me I'm dead)
"Micah?" whimpered a voice, and he blinked.
(aren't I?)
The hands that had been on his shoulders moved to his face, probing for injuries.
"Micah, please, you're awake -- aren't you?" It was Gabe. One long moment went by before Micah felt a hard shudder rack his body. And then, for the first time in what seemed ages, he moved.
"Gabe?" The word came out in a choke as he shot forward, and arms folded around him immediately.
"You're awake," Gabe gasped. "You're okay."
"I'm alive," he murmured, somewhat confusedly. She didn't answer; the girl hugged him tightly and pressed her face into his shoulder. Micah let himself be embraced, dully noting that he wasn't tied up anymore. "I don't understand. Didn't you--"
"She used the wrong side," Jeremy said quietly. Micah glanced at him over Gabe's shoulder. The boy demonstrated with the knife, running his thumb over the opposite side of the blade. "The demon panicked. He left quickly."
"You've been sleeping for almost an hour," Gabe said, voice thick with tears. Micah suddenly realized how long it had been since she had held him. He buried his face in her shoulder and didn't say anything. "If I hadn't been so nervous," she whispered, stroking his hair gently, "I would've killed you, Micah. I would've had the knife the right way, I would've killed you, and your throat would've--"
"You saved me," Micah said softly. "In my dream, you saved me. And you saved me here, too." Jeremy shifted in the background; he tossed the knife back into the box he'd dug it out of.
"Let's get out of here. This place looks like it could fall apart any second."
"You go ahead, Jer." Gabe pulled away from Micah a bit and smiled weakly. "You've had a rough... 4 months. Go sleep."
"I think... I will," Jeremy said, and scratched his head idly. "No hard feelings, Micah?"
"Nah," he muttered to Gabe's shoulder. Jeremy grinned, somewhat sadly, and loped out the front door.
"Promise me something." Gabe's voice was quiet and warm in his ear. "Promise me something, Micah." He leaned back into her shoulder.
"Anything," Micah murmured, and let his eyes drift closed. He hadn't realized how immensely tired he was. Sore, too.
"Promise that you'll never leave." Her hand had made its way back up to his hair. Micah leaned against her shoulder and exhaled deeply.
"I promise." Then he paused and opened his eyes, looking up. "I love you, Gabe." The girl looked surprised for a split second before she smiled shakily.
"I love you too," she whispered, and pressed her lips to his.
(take that he who walks behind the rows)
When he pulled away, Micah let his eyes drift closed again.
"What if he comes back?" Gabe shook her head and cradled him against her, rocking slowly back and forth.
"I don't know. But I do know this--" She pressed a kiss against his earlobe and fought a sob. "--the only way he'll take you is over my dead body. And that's my promise." Micah let out a soft whimper, nestling into her for comfort.
"Thank you," he murmured, and surrendered to sleep.
The Beast, having retreated back into the corn, screamed in rage.
But he could scream all he wanted. Because he was no longer in control. There was a higher power at work, and its mark was on both the girl and the boy. Protection -- for now.
And now was all they needed.