5 comments/ 9152 views/ 2 favorites In An Angels Foot Steps Ch. 01 By: I_Shadow If not for the ability to mask one's presence, the bridge below would have been filled with gawkers. Some shouting words of encouragement, while others felt the need to taunt, screaming jump, using this as a platform to purge the frustrations felt in their own lives. Officials would've had to beat back the crowd of spectators so they could do their jobs. The solitary figure cast a silhouette in the evening sky similar to that of Rodin's The Thinker. The silent observation and meditation of the figure was almost eerie, especially when surrounded by a bustling city such as New York. This perch allowed for not only a spectacular view of the city below but also a place to disconnect and recharge. A vantage point, somewhere to absorb the sounds, music and life that made the city the gem it was beneath the thick layers of dirt, grime and cynicism. Raising his head from his hand, he looked out over the waters that once ran clean so many years before. Now they bustled with boats, and floated the litter, tossed aside by those who gave the water little thought. Closing his eyes against the glare as the sun moved lower in the sky, preparing to create the lengthening shadows down on the street. Those same shadows made some cringe as they saw them coming, gathering their loved ones close and shutting the doors and windows keeping the shadows and the unsavory it contained at bay. While yet another group seemed to wait almost impatiently for the darkness. The sunglasses he wore reflected the bright orange orb in the sky as his other senses were called into play, his need for silent meditation coming to an end. His skills and vantage point above the city allowed him to tune in and tune out different things as simple as if channels on a radio. He visibly cringed as he heard an off note from a child taking music lessons, but the laughter at the mistake that followed seemed to smooth over the musical mistake. For years, so many he'd long since stopped counting, he'd had the ability to listen in as the greatest musicians in the world graced the city with their presence and talents. He soon found that with these great talents came jaded people. Those who felt they were above so many, they were honoring the common, something he felt tainted their work, for himself at least. Tilting his head he smiled, hearing the clear innocent tones as a local children's choir practiced. Their voices untrained yet pure and ringing true as if a gift from heaven with their enthusiasm and happiness. Shaking his head he didn't laugh when he heard the whispered laughter from a few when the young pianist hit the wrong note as the group sang. These were the moments he enjoyed the most, the chance to find the untarnished, those who've yet to develop a cloak of importance, distrust and disenchantment with life in general. Lowering the leg he'd propped his wrist across while lost in thought, he ran his hands down the denim covered thighs, wiping his hands as if removing the layer of solitude he'd sought from his vantage point. Slipping forward, he dropped, arms reaching out to his sides, head thrown back enjoying the rush of the wind, as he descended the hundred or so feet to the foot path of the bridge beneath him. Walking slowly, removing himself from the large groups that walked at a clipped pace, hurrying to get where they were going, he waited. Stepping into the deeper shadows he emerged, visible to those around him. He smiled casually when one man jerked his head up, sensing potential danger when he suddenly found himself beside such a large imposing figure of a man. Silently he had to admit he liked the general populations reaction to the physical persona he'd become. Taller than average at six foot five, broad shoulders stretching the upper regions of the worn tee shirts he loved wearing to their limits. He'd once thoroughly loved the female rush of hormones when they eyed his trim hips encased in lose fitting jeans that seemed to be held low on his hips by sheer will, but over the centuries that had also changed. Turning from the main street and its population he smiled softly hearing the muted sounds of haunting music ahead of him. This must be a new routine he thought as he moved closer, he sounds becoming louder. A few more turns and he'd be at the small plaza type area where the local police allowed street dancers and musicians to gather, showing their talents and allowing passers by to tip those they found enjoyable. He knew without a doubt he'd find Ursula as the owner of this unusual music, what style of dance she would be demonstrating he wasn't sure yet. Stopping after rounding the corner he smiled when he saw her. The lithe lines of her body twisting and moving as if flexible beyond belief as she danced some new contemporary style to the music escaping the small scratched up boom box she used. Her hair was pulled back tightly, captured in a tiny bun surrounded by a matching swatch of fabric he knew she'd saved from the outfit she'd created. Pushing away from the wall he moved closer, his eyes moving over the crowd quickly gauging their acceptance and reaction to the young girls' performance. Stopping near the now dry fountain in the center of the area, he sat along its edge, winking at her when she briefly met his eye. He couldn't contain the laughter that her smile caused when she saw him. Ursula knew that as she saw the sun lowering in the sky that before the shadows reached across the plaza to her area that he'd appear, he did every time she came to perform. It had become an unspoken tradition since she'd began sneaking out of the home after school when she was not quite twelve that he'd be walking her home to ensure her safety. This was one of the only reasons that Sister Katherine didn't do as she'd threatened many times, to lock her in her room. As the music ended she lifted her head from its place on her extended knee, standing she bowed with a flourish to those who'd been watching her. She thanked those who dropped change or small bills into the vintage hat box she used to both carry her radio and also collect any tips people felt good hearted enough to give her. Wiping sweat from her face she laughed as a young business man sorted through a small handful of bills he'd pulled from his pocket. "Any and all is a help Sir," she said with a huge smile, flashing the sparkling braces she now wore. "I'm saving my money to go to Julliard one day, that is just incase my grades don't help me with a scholarship," she giggled. Stepping closer to the young business man she glanced toward her silent self appointed body guard. "I can only encourage you to be as generous as you can," she said her voice dropping to a whisper. "Being a young African American woman means there are times I have to pay for my protection," she said nodding her head slightly toward his silent figure sitting watching her. Knowing what she was doing, he laughed loudly, making the young business man jump, startled. "Don't let the little imp make you think you need to pay for her 'protection'," he said pushing himself up to walk toward the pair. "Ursula, if I were to tell Sister Katherine what you're doing she'd have you cleaning the rectory for a month without a break," he smiled at the young girl who stuck her tongue out at him. "Will five dollars be enough?" the man asked, his voice clearly demonstrating the discomfort he was feeling. Stepping forward, his hand falling gently on the young man's shoulder, he felt the rush of unease leave him. "I can assure you this little urchin, is working toward her dreams of attending Julliard. But if her grades are as she promises the Sister's and I, she could use any additional money she earns for lessons to refine her styles before auditions later this summer," he assured the man, shaking his head as he watched Ursula huff to put her things away for the walk home. "My sister had dreams of becoming a ballerina, but she hurt her leg playing soccer and now she's attending college to be nurse," the young man said as he dropped the five in the hat box before Ursula closed it. "Keep practicing and I hope you make it into Julliard. I'll come by a few times a week and if you're here I'll help the cause," he said with a wave before joining the flow of foot traffic leaving the darkening plaza area. He watched proudly as she picked up the litter that had been dropped in the area she thought of as her own when she performed. Smiling when she turned, rolling her eyes at him, they began the walk to the home run by nuns that she's lived in since she was almost five. "When are you going to stop trying to use me to force more money from people?" he asked not even glancing down at her as they walked through the darkening streets. "Better yet when did you come up with the plan of strong arming people into tipping?" he asked, stopping in his tracks waiting for her answer. "Gabe do you have any idea what it's like to be a young black woman?" she asked, not stopping long enough for him to answer, only nod. "You can stop smiling at me also I know that one was dumb," she laughed. "But I'm trying to tell you that not only being black but also living in a home run by the Nun's cause I ain't got no family, isn't going to make me getting into Julliard any easier," she said with a heavy sigh. "All them girls in the ballet class you got me into act like they feel sorry for me," she said quietly. "I don't want nobody feeling sorry for me or that they gotta give me nothing," she snapped suddenly. "I'm as good as them," she said, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye even though she fought to contain them. "Ursula, you're fourteen years old, how is it someone so young could seem to be bearing the worlds weight on her shoulders?" he asked soothingly, kneeling beside her, wiping the tear from her face. "I don't ever want to hear you say that you don't have a family," he said lifting her chin gently. "Do you have any idea how hurt Sister Katherine and Sister Eloise would be if they heard that? Not to mention how Sadie and Maria would feel if they thought you didn't think of them as your sister's," he reminded her. Shaking his head when she opened her mouth to reply, stopping her. "I want you to spend next week looking for a definition of a family that says all members 'have' to be biologically related, all the same ethnic background and they all have to look alike," he said chuckling when she rolled her eyes. Standing he took her hand, starting to walk toward the small church and home he'd taken her to when he'd found her hidden in an alley when she was a tiny little girl. "Maybe you'd preferred that I'd given you over to the state system when I found you in stead of taking you to the Sister's," he said quietly, as if thinking aloud. "I thought I was doing something good. Especially when I saw how tightly you hugged Sister Katherine when she told you that you'd 'come home' when she saw you." "You don't fight fair do ya?" she said with a forced sigh. "I love the Sister's, you know that. Heck I even kinda love the annoying boys, but yeah Sadie and Maria are my sisters," she smiled up at him as they rounded the corner, heading down the street toward her home and family. Gabe waited outside the church for Sister Katherine to come out after she'd finished admonishing Ursula for being after dark in returning. Looking around the neighborhood he saw the graffiti left by the newest gang that tended to try and emerge what seemed like weekly to claim the territory as they're own. Listening absently to the sharp stucco foot steps of the nun's inside the church he stiffened suddenly. Turning his head he looked around, searching for the source of the cry he'd heard, the soft voice that seemed to float in and out of his mind. "Gabe we can't thank you enough for acting as Ursula's chaperone as she's coming home from the plaza," Sister Katherine was saying as she walked out to sit beside the large man resting on the church steps. "I would hate to see the child's dreams crushed, but we simply don't have the man power here, and with as quickly as this neighborhood is changing," she said her voice fading off. "I'm terrified of any of the children being out on their own." Patting her hand reassuringly, he nodded. "I fully understand Sister. I've been talking to a friend and I think I might be able to talk him into sponsoring Ursula which would allow her to spend her time in dance classes most of the time," he told her with a dazzling smile. "You have done so much for us for so many years already," the older woman said, tears sparkling in her eyes at the goodness and generosity he'd always shown them. "You might just be the guardian angel that was sent to guide Ursula's life," she squeezed his hand affectionately. His mind kept hearing the small cry of distress as they talked; turning his head he found he could hear it clearer than others. "I hate to run sister but I have some things I need to get done before it gets too late. And I'm sure dinner time is going to be interesting with Ursula being strong willed," he laughed when she sighed dramatically. ************** What was that smell that burned her nose, she wondered as her mind slipped between heavy sleep and listless wakefulness. I must be so tired I can't open my eyes, she though when her eye lids seemed to refuse her every command. "I'm terribly sorry Mr. Slade but we've done everything we can, now we just have to wait and see how she's going to heal and respond," the exhausted doctor said as he closed the heavy metal chart in his hands. "But you've been saying that all she has are some cuts and bruises other then the knot on her head so why isn't she waking up?" Royce said his voice tingled with the disgust he felt at the situation. "What in the hells happened to me? Royce why are you asking about my waking up? You might think this is a joke but let me tell you it's one of the worse you've ever pulled," she said sharply, wishing they'd drop the façade and someone would tell her what was going on. "Even without putting the head trauma into the equation, we sometimes find that victims of violent crimes such as what Ms. Sparten suffered, will become unresponsive during the healing process," the doctor tried to explain to the rather overbearing man who was his patients boyfriend. "Everyone heals at a different rate and in a different way. It appears that not only the physical trauma but mental trauma that goes hand in hand when a woman is physically and sexually violated. It's going to take an extended period of healing for her," Dr. Smithson said with finality. He had many other patients he needed to see before he would be able to sit down long enough to eat a sandwich. Royce glanced at his watch quickly, "Is it important that someone be with her all the time or would it be better that she get some rest without being disturbed?" he asked, his agitation at the time painfully obvious. "We have a top notch nursing staff here at the hospital Mr. Slade so if you have things you need to do I'm sure they will keep a competent eye on Ms. Sparten. They will call you if there's any change," he assured the man, his disgust tingeing his words slightly before he walked abruptly from the room. Her mind had begun spinning as she was hearing what the doctor was telling Royce. She'd been attacked apparently if she could believe what she was hearing. Her throat tightened when she tried to ask if by 'sexually violated' they meant she'd been raped, but no sound would escape past the constriction in her throat. She felt a heaviness creeping over her; absorbed in the pain and fear she felt she welcomed it. *************** He watched silently from the shadowed corner as the two men discussed the battered woman lying in the hospital bed in front of them, the source of the sounds he'd been hearing. It was obvious to him, who was able to hear her that she was coherent and could hear everything the two of them were saying. The shock her mind and body showed made it painfully obvious she'd been totally unaware and was now beyond overwhelmed. The sounds of the beeping monitors were the main source of sound in the now dimly lit room. He sat quietly in one of the chairs, watching and wondering. Why had he heard her and been drawn to her? This was not the path he'd chosen for his life when given the opportunity to make those choices freely. Even though he'd walked the earth with human and nonhuman for centuries he'd found that his solitary existence was the one that suited him. Being a guide, a care taker had always smacked of being melodramatic to him. He'd hear those who'd chosen that path relating stories of their accomplishments and conquests with one another with little consideration for the fact that it was someone's soul they were discussing so causally. For many years he'd been amused by the broad belief that if something or someone had the word 'angelic' attached to them it automatically meant that they were good, pure and above contempt. He knew this to be one of the most skewed misconceptions of all time. He'd rubbed shoulders with both angels and demons who were so opposite from what they were perceived to be, he often wondered if they weren't a mutual joke of god and satin when they found themselves bored. The hypocrisy of the guides whose job it as to help those souls whose lives ended, were the worst to sit around and gossip and comment on the lives people had led. They felt since they were 'angelic' it was within their right to pass judgment; this rubbed him the wrong way. The higher the rank of hierarchy the greater the chance of corruption as was usual it seemed for all races yet something he felt was out of place. From birth he'd felt like an outsider. Always larger physically than those around him, stronger, faster and more prone to asking questions as opposed to silently accepting any explanation someone felt like giving. He'd never felt very 'angelic' and on numerous occasions wondered if that was the core of his identity issues. When being taught what the humans believed to be the Ten Commandments, he infuriated his teacher by asking how they as angels could understand what each meant. They'd never themselves experienced things such as coveting, or lusting, therefore how could one understand if such was a sin when they had no knowledge of the emotion that went hand in hand with it. His eyes, mind and heart had witnessed amazing changes since he'd decided that he'd spend his days on earth, living among the human and nonhumans that walked its surface. His thoughts were broken when he felt the woman stirring, not physically but mentally emerging from the depths she'd welcomed earlier. The only way she could ever describe how she was feeling was as if someone had piled her mind and body high with heavy wet woolen blankets, she thought to herself as she tried yet again to open her eyes. The repetitive sound of the monitors made her hesitate realizing the slow steady beat was that of her own heart. "Thankfully something's working on its own," she mumbled to herself. "Now if my eyes would just take the hint and do the same thing, come on I want to see what's happened to me," she said with a sudden panic when her eyes would not respond. Standing quickly, he walked to the bedside. Moving his hand to the bed, he brushed his fingers along hers gently, just wanting to calm her as she tried to work out what had happened to her. She took a deep breath, feeling a wave of peacefulness wash over her suddenly. "Okay now I'm losing what's left of my mind! One minute I'm frantic and the next I'm thinking of wild flowers and ice cream. What gives?" she almost laughed at herself. He sighed to himself silently, moving his hand above her face, he braced himself for the next time she tried to open her eyes and found they would open. In An Angels Foot Steps Ch. 01 Rebekkah frowned for a second thinking she'd felt someone touching her face, caressing her cheeks then her eyes. Resolving herself to one more try she opened her eyes. "Wow," she said quickly when she saw a rather large stranger standing beside her bed. From the worn concert tee shirt he wore she seriously doubted he was her doctor or even her nurse. "You can tell Royce that if he doesn't have the time to sit with me, it isn't necessary that he leaves on of his 'friends' behind," she said suddenly, her feelings of hurt reflected in her dark blue eyes. "If you'd just tell him that I'm awake when you leave, I'd appreciate it," her voice trailed off as she closed her eyes only to snap them open remember what a struggle it had been to get them that way. "I think you've got me mistaken for someone else," he said quietly, his voice soothing. "I know no one by the name of Royce; unless you're referring to the gentleman who was in a hurry by the way he kept checking his watch." "Are you an undercover police officer, sent to question me as soon as I wake up?" she asked almost positive she was wrong yet again. "I wasn't sent by any one nor was I asked to wait by others," he explained slowly. "I heard you calling for someone to help you, to help you understand, so I came." Before she could say anything she noticed another man standing near the door. "This seems to be getting as busy as Grand Central Station," she forced a laugh, not at all comfortable to the expression on the other man's face. "Since when have you decided to take on the role of a guide?" the tall thin man asked, stepping forward. Gabe knew Dirk was approaching long before he'd entered the room. Swearing to him self when he realized he'd be found there. "Dirk you should know me well enough after all these centuries, being a guide is something I'd never consider no matter the circumstances," he said flippantly knowing it would get under the other man's skin. "I think a better question would be what are you doing here? Even though I don't have a degree in medicine I'd think it would safe to say that this woman doesn't look like one who's ready to trade life in for her soul to rest," he laughed. "She's been having some rather unique conversations berating herself for not being able to open her eyes." Dirk leaned casually against the wall glancing at the young woman lying in the bed staring from one to the other of them. Smiling he winked at her, laughing when she frowned at him. "If you'd paid as much attention during instruction as you did questioning everything you'd know what it isn't out of the ordinary for one of us to visit someone who's slipping into a coma to offer them the release from what ever troubles or haunts them," he said seeing Gabe's dark glare turn his way. "You've become ambulance chasers?" Gabe laughed loudly, startling the woman from her own thoughts as she tried to absorb what was being said. "Would someone tell me who's chasing what ambulance? Who's in a coma and finally offer me what and take my soul where?" she said her voice rising in panic. "The doctor did say something about head trauma earlier, that has to be the reason behind all of this," she muttered rapidly, her pulse beginning to accelerate, the monitor showing the change. "I could only be hallucinating tall dark and hunky here and the other guy has got to be a side effect of what ever drugs they're giving me. Where's my nurse? Surely to god they've got someone in this hospital that can hear me and can help me," she said her voice rising. Stepping forward Dirk shouldered Gabe from his place at her bedside. "Rebekkah it's okay, calm down please," he said his voice as smooth as honey. "I've only come to ask you of your choice. Not to make choices for you, but to respect your wishes," he finished despite the snort of anger from Gabe. "Why is it he doesn't seem to believe you?" She asked, her eyes moving from one to the other. "And I don't have any idea what you're talking about 'choices'. Do you think it was my choice to some how end up in a hospital where no one seems to care what's happening to me? The doctor said I'd been physically and mentally victimized," she said her voice dropping to a whisper when she listened to what she was saying out loud. "I think that was his nice way of saying I'd been raped," she said quietly, tears traveling run unnoticed over her bruised and battered cheeks. "You think I can make choices like this?" she asked, closing her eyes trying to reabsorb the pain she felt wanting to literally explode from her mind and heart. With a nod of understanding, Dirk stepped back. Glancing at Gabe he turned toward the door. "If circumstances change, you know I'll have to be back," his voice faded as he seemed to fade from the room. Gabe stood still for a moment watching her as she struggled mentally to regain the hold she'd had on herself. Moving silently back to the chair he'd been sitting in; he waited until she was ready to talk. She felt a slight shift in the air and knew without looking he'd moved away from the bed. Suddenly a feeling of panic seemed to roll over her as if a wave from the ocean. Snapping her eyes open she looked for him. "Please don't leave," she said her voice trembling. "I really don't want to be alone right now, even though I don't have a clue, who you are." "I'm not going anywhere Rebekkah," he said hesitating. "You don't mind if I call you by your given name do you? I just think Ms. Sparten would be rather rigid sounding," he smiled at her. "Its fine, how do you know my name? Better yet how did that man know it?" she asked suddenly realizing there was so much going on she didn't understand. Taking a deep breath he put his hands together before he met her eyes. "Well first off, I know your name because it's on the door. As for Dirk I think it would be easiest explained that knowing such things is his job," He explained praying she didn't ask anymore than that at the moment. "I can barely see you sitting in the corner like that. I feel like my arms and legs are weighed down with lead. Can you either raise me up or move a little closer?" she said quietly. He stood, walking to the end of the bed. "I think it would be better for me to do the moving until the doctor says you can without anymore harm being done," he told her seriously, glancing at the monitors to see if there had been any changes. "I don't know how long I've been here but I can tell you everything sounds the same," she said forcing a weak smile before wincing. "Can you get me a mirror so I can see what was done to my face?" she asked quietly. He shook his head knowing through years of experience that vanity would crush what little spirit she was redeveloping if she were to see the massive dark bruises, cuts and bandages covering most of her face. "I don't think now would be the best time," he said with a chuckle. "Now if you like the kaleidoscope effect of colors due to your healing bruises then I'd say sure. But something tells me it's not your favorite thing." "From your use of the word 'kaleidoscope' instead of rainbow, I'm thinking there's more fragmenting then I'm ready to see?" she asked with a sigh. "If you could just tell me, when I heal will I be something that will create nightmares in small children? I ask because I make a living with children. If I'd scare them I might need to think of a new line of work." He braced his hand along the footboard of the bed, looking at her intently for a minute before smiling, chuckling when she let out the breath she'd been holding. "I think your profession is safe. It might take some time for you to heal totally, but if anything remains I think it will just help add character," he winked at her. "What is it that you do that involves children, if you don't mind my asking?" Rebekkah hesitated for a minute; she'd never been one to open to strangers since she'd moved to the city. It hadn't taken her long after she'd started her relationship with Royce, to realize that people in and around the city were seldom what they portrayed themselves to be. Gabe noticed her hesitation, walking over, he grabbed the chair he'd been sitting in and moved it closer to the bed. "I work with physically handicapped children and young adults," she said with a sigh, suddenly wondering what was happening at the school since she wasn't there. "I teach different aspects of the arts." "So you're a teacher," he said with a smile, now understanding her less than jaded views. People, who worked with children if they were lucky, kept a slight hold on the innocence they projected. "I'm not officially a teacher, I'm a therapist first," she said, hesitating wondering how much to explain to this tall stranger who sat so intently along her bed side. Seeing the genuine interest reflected on his face, she took a deep breath. "Years ago my parents were in an accident, my little sister Grace was in the car with them. A drunk driver hit them head on. It killed my mother instantly, and my father went into a coma after he learned she'd died. He never woke up again," her voice faded off as she relived the feeling of loss she'd felt. He moved his hand to gently touch hers as it lay at her side, "I'm sorry for your loss, but what about your sister?" he asked. "Gracie had been the light of everyone's life," she said with a smile, one small tear escaping from her lashes as she closed her eyes. "The accident left her paralyzed from the waist down, the bones in her back had broken, severing her spine." She sniffed, taking a ragged breath as she tried to regain her composer. "Gracie would kick my ass if she heard me explaining this like she was a victim," she chuckled. "The fastest way to piss her off is to treat her as though she has a disability." "To summarize a long drawn out story, Gracie was eleven when the accident happened, I was sixteen and Jake our brother was nineteen. Jake was granted custody of she and I by the courts. One of our case workers that helped Jake make sure we had what we needed noticed how withdrawn Gracie was becoming" she said thoughtfully, remembering back. "Gracie had been either in ballet or gymnastics from the time she could walk," she grinned. "She was amazing to watch, but after the accident she felt like she didn't have anything. Ms. Duncan suggested one day that I take Gracie to the studio so she could visit her classmates. That started a new direction for both of us," she explained. "I started wheeling Gracie around following the other dancers as they practiced and they encouraged her to join them, using her arms to make the movements. After about a year of this Gracie performed with the group at a recital and the crowd loved it," she laughed, her broken bruised face glowing with pride that made him catch his breath. "The dance instructor and Ms. Duncan suggested that I might be interested in training to become a physical therapist and working with people with disabilities," she looked at him, meeting his eyes to see if she'd managed to bore him to tears or to sleep yet. "I chose children and young adults after a year or so of working with adults and finding that the baggage they weren't able to let go of after a life altering event such as paralysis was both physically and mentally depressing." "I imagine your brother is proud of both of you," he said with a smile. Seeing the shadow of a frown that passed over her face he squeezed her hand gently, encouraging her to continue talking. "You're right Jake was proud of us, and last year when he and I were able to see Gracie dance at her wedding, he cried like a baby," she said, her voice catching as tears began falling freely. "Jake passed away from cancer less than three months after Gracie's wedding. We knew it was coming; his battle had been going on for a few years. But he refused to give up until he knew she and I were settled in our lives." Gabe moved from the chair to sit gently on the edge of her bed. Lifting his hand slowly so as not to scare her. He brushed his fingers gently along the less injured side of her face, her tears wetting his finger tips. "I know you feel as if you lost him, but you didn't," he said softly. "His physical presence might be gone but everything that made him the man he'd become is still here with you, looking out over you, worrying about you," he said slowly, already feeling the tingle of anger that had begun filling the room moments before. Without turning he knew if he did he'd find the shadowy image of her brother, the soul that had spent its physical time being her protector. "I'm sure right now his feelings would be both anger and fear, at what has happened to you and also how strong you are to over come this," he said feeling the radiating anger diminish slightly. "I don't understand why the police haven't been here to question me," she said softly. "It isn't as if I could tell them much because when ever I try and remember what happened I get such a migraine I can't think." "You're not ready to remember or you will," he said gently, trying to reassure her. "Things happen for a reason, seldom do we know that reason, but it's there," he said, wondering what had been the driving reason for his hearing her cries. "You need to rest so you can heal and regain your strength," he said, smiling at her when she frowned. "I know not what you want to hear, but it's the truth." "I'm worried about my studio and the students," she said with a heavy sigh. "The one thing I do remember was that I was leaving the studio after a late art class when this happened. Everyone was gone or I pray to god they were and none of them got hurt," her voice trailed off as she felt a rush of panic for her students. "Why don't you give me the address and while you're getting some sleep, I can go and make sure everything's okay. I'll come back and let you know what I find out, if that will make you rest easier," he said standing up, moving the chair back to the corner of the room. He knew the general area of her studio; the neighborhoods had been undergoing intense renovation for the past few years. Standing near her bed, glancing at the monitors that had yet to change, even when she was mentally conscious, he could still feel the radiating anger engulfing he room. With a sigh he turned, facing the shadowy figure. "If you think I am the reason she's here, please think again," he mentally expressed, startling the figure. "I heard her cries of distress from this same room, and I came to se what comfort I could offer. I am not a guide as you yourself have experienced." "He is not a guide, nor is he a sinister soul you need to worry about," Dirk said softly as he shimmered into view. "I've known him our entire lives and he offers what he says he does, comfort." Gabe nodded his head silently in thanks before turning back to the shadowed vision of Rebekkah's brother. "Jake, you're projecting anger and discontent. What she needs to comfort and to feel your love. Please adjust your feelings before you bring her more harm than good," he said quietly as the shadowy figure vanished from the room. "Still being an ambulance chaser or do you think to come in here and convince her that her time is really at an end Dirk?" He asked turning to face the other man. Dirk shook his head smiling, "Just observing, and learning if you will. Her physical wounds will heal. They are not threatening her choice to go on with life. Her mental condition has yet to be met head on though," he said expressively, letting it be known he knew more than he was telling. "I must commend you; you did very well with her brother. I've known for a few weeks now his agitation which we both known above is an oddity, has been growing. I wasn't sure of the root of that agitation until after this heinous act had been committed," Dirk said leaning casually against the door, watching her take the slow steady breaths of sleep. Gabe forced a laugh, "Since when have you spent any time seeing about the well being of those you guide? You've always prided yourself on your detachment, and ability to convince those to take your hand for the journey." Shrugging his shoulder, his eyes meeting to lock with the crystal green of Gabe's, "A friend once told me that it took more to have a true soul, than I offered," he said quietly before shimmering from the room. Glancing back one last time, making sure she was resting peacefully, he moved from the room. His mind encouraged that someone he'd thought of as a friend had listened and considered something he'd said. In An Angels Foot Steps Ch. 02 Walking, unobserved through the hospital. He stepped, around the side of the building into the shadows. Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he chuckled. It was one thing to conceal something when moving around unseen but it was another matter to attempt to use a solid animate object while doing so. Leaning against the building he listened to the ringing. "Campbell here," the voice on the other end of the line said. "Is your evil twin anywhere around?" Gabe asked knowing how much Campbell hated being associated with Rutledge, his partner. "Dirk was right," Campbell laughed. "He told me you'd be calling. I just didn't think it'd be this soon. As for Rutledge he stepped out to grab a bite. You know how he is when Dirk shows up," he chuckled. Hearing the heavy foot steps coming up the stairs, he knew his partner was back. "Hang on I hear the amazon's foot steps now," he told Gabe. "Hey Rut, grab line three, we've got a call." "Rutledge, what can I do for you?" The deep gravely voice said when he answered the phone. Gabe could only imagine how human's reacted to just the sound of Rutledge's voice let alone when they saw the massive hard edged man himself. "Well twinkle toes, I've got a few things I wanted to ask you and your better half," Gabe laughed hearing the moan and growl as if in stereo. "Actually I wanted to ask the two of you about a case you might've worked or know who did," he explained, getting directly to the issue. "About three or four nights ago a woman was attacked at an art studio on the east side. Rebekkah Sparten's her name." "We didn't work the case but we've got the option to pick it up," Campbell said as he glanced on his desk at the folder his supervisor had tossed there earlier. "We were making a bust the night this went down and the squad was thin so they sent some flat foots to do what they could gathering evidence and information." Rutledge sat down, kicking back in his chair listening, his feet coming to rest on the edge of his desk. "What's got you interested Gabe?" He asked already suspecting after the sudden visit from the guide flunky as he liked to call Dirk. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his brow, knowing dealing with Rutledge could be as annoying as poison ivy. "She asked me if I'd check out the studio and see what type of damage if any had been done," he said with a sigh. Glancing at his partner, Rutledge grinned; flashing pearly white teeth against the dark tan he sported. "I hate to tell you Mr. Concerned citizen, but that's not possible. The victim, from our records has slipped into a coma and hasn't been able to give a statement so there's no way in hell," he laughed, "that she 'asked' you for anything." "One of these days when you go back to hell to visit 'daddy' Rut, he's gonna decide to keep you since you've become the biggest demon asshole around," Gabe said through clenched teeth. "Swing by and pick me up at the hospital, I'd like to ride over and check the place out so I can tell her something that might help her decide life's not so bad." "What do you think this is a taxi service, angel boy?" Rut said with a chuckle hanging up the phone, grabbing the file from Campbell's desk. "Be along the side street and we'll be there in ten," Campbell said, shaking his head, his 'partner' sauntering from the squad room whistling. How he'd got stuck with a demon as his partner he'd never understand. God must have thought it was a joke when he chose earth like Gabe had. Pushing away from the building unseen, he stepped into the unmarked car that stopped briefly along the curb. "Next time you need a ride why don't you sprout wings and fly or call a cab like everyone else in the city does," Rutledge laughed loudly glancing back at the large man now sitting in the cars back seat. "How hard do you have to work to be an asshole Rut, or does it just come easy for you?" Gabe smiled, nodding to Campbell who looked in the rearview mirror. "It's good to see they don't give you the keys to a car and turn you lose on the innocent pedestrians," he said smacking Rut on the back of the bald head. "You think she's gonna pull through?" Campbell asked turning toward the east side, heading to the studio. "Right now I don't think I'd be able to call it one way or the other," Gabe said with a sigh. "She's just becoming conscious of things going on around her," he explained. "I don't know how she was when she was taken in. I was taking Ursula home yesterday evening when I heard a voice calling for help." "I figured when 'guide boy' showed up he was gonna be all pissed off, you're interfering with him," Rut said as they neared the neighborhood where the studio was. "I was wrong though, he kinda seemed to think it was funny that you'd gotten involved." "Speaking of Ursula, did she tell you I had to threaten to arrest her little ass about two weeks ago, for beating some boy who tried to snatch her tip box and radio?" He laughed, "The little hellion was beatin' that boy down 'til I stopped her. I took her home; Sister Katherine grabbed her by the ear and took her inside. I almost felt sorry for her." "I wondered why she'd only been going to the plaza maybe once a week," Gabe laughed. "Hey that's it, isn't it?" He pointed to a large sign in front of a long dark building. Pulling in the dark parking lot, they immediately noticed the security lights around the building had been knocked out, glass lying under them. "I'll be surprised if there's anything left in that building other than the damn walls," Rutledge said, reaching to unsnap the large caliber gun he wore on his side. Breaking through the crime scene tape across the door, Campbell used the keys provided with the file to unlock the front doors. Stepping inside, he reached along side the door, flipping the light switches on one by one. Gabe could see the destruction before the lights were on. Chairs were thrown around the room, some having shattered the large mirror that covered one entire wall. Trash cans turned upside down, their contents scattered everywhere. "The file lists this as a simple gang smash and grab where the occupant was assaulted during the course of the crime," Campbell said with a frown. "It doesn't say much of anything about the condition she was in, other than a phone call was made to the hospital requesting a call back when and if she regained consciousness." Rutledge picked a chair up covered in finger print dust. "Since when did gangs start randomly start spray painting rainbows and not tagging their work?" he said pointing to the abstract art work that covered most of the walls. "And if it was a smash and grab what the hell did they grab? The TV's busted all to hell and that looks like a video camera or something thrown against the wall," he said pointing to the fragmented pieces of electronics. "Leave it to a fucking flat foot to sign off on anything to get outta the paperwork," Rutledge said with a snarl before walking to investigate the back room. "What all does it say in the report?" Gabe said stepping around a twisted chair. Campbell opened the folder, reading briefly. "All it says was apparently she'd been inside when someone broke in through one of the doors. She was assaulted and transported by ambulance. No finger prints were found other than hers and the list of people they managed to contact who'd been taking classes or involved with the studio," he said glancing at Gabe. "How bad was she hurt?" Campbell asked slowly, knowing beforehand it wasn't going to be as little as the report made it out to be. "I've only been there once when the doctor was there and he was busy assuring her supposed boyfriend, they had a well qualified nursing staff so he wasn't required to stay with her around the clock," he said with disgust. "What I've gathered from what little I've heard and what I've physically seen. She's got a broken wrist and leg. Her face was beaten badly and cut in the process. Her face has quite a few bandages and I've noticed small intricate stitches indicating lacerations," he explained, stopping to take a deep breath. "The worse of it seems to be she was sexually assaulted during the attack also." "She was raped?" Rutledge snapped as he walked back in the room. "There's not a damn word about a rape in that file," he snarled. "There should've been a crew out here immediately with a fine toothed comb looking for evidence, but since they never mentioned that, it was written off as your average daily crime." "Rebekkah told me the only thing she does remember, was that she'd already locked up and was waiting for some of the last students to leave before heading to her car," Gabe said looking at the two men. "She wanted me to come down and check on the studio and make sure it was undamaged. She doesn't remember anything after the start of the attack, even the rape from her reaction to hearing the doctor telling the boyfriend." "The guy's girl has just been beaten and raped and he's worried about having to stay in the hospital with her?" Rut said spitting the words out with disgust. "Can you get his name for us so we can check him out and see if maybe this started with a lover's quarrel he decided to make sure he won?" Gabe nodded, "I do know his first name is Royce, but I'll see if I can find out his last name next time she's awake or when he visits," he said softly, his mind spinning. "These doors don't look like they were forced open, the glass would've cracked or something," Campbell said inspecting the door frames around the front doors. "But the report says her keys were found clutched in her hand," he said his voice trailing off. "I don't think this was a random attack," Gabe said, taking a deep breath. "Someone wanting to break in, wouldn't grab her keys use them, then put them back in her hand." "Where you need us to drop you Gabe?" Rutledge asked heading for the door. "We've got some flat foots to question as soon as we get back to the squad room," he growled, walking out to get in the car, slamming the door in anger. *************** "She's awake," Gabe said as they neared the hospital where he'd asked them to drop him off. "Okay not enough for you to get a legal statement, but she'd aware, and agitated for some reason," he said reaching to open the door as soon as the car slowed, pulling into the hospital parking lot. "I think we need to go in and personally check on her condition and talk to the doctor," Campbell said as Rutledge nodded. "We'll see you in the room," he said as Gabe moved quickly to the front door, disappearing to the human eyes before entering the light. Gabe slipped into the room unnoticed as a nurse was carrying in fresh IV fluids. Stepping toward the corner, he watched silently. Grace, Rebekkah's sister moved her wheel chair as close to the bed as possible, blocking Royce from being able to stand beside the bed. Even with her back turned the stiffness of her posture spoke volumes of her opinion of him. "Gracie I'm so glad you're here," Rebekkah said, her voice ragged with emotion. "I've been hoping you'd come. Please don't you and Royce fight, not now." "This is the reason why I didn't want you to come down here," Royce said as he shoved his hands through his hair. "Bekka wouldn't have wanted you to be upset anymore than I do," he said pacing along the side of the room. Gabe almost laughed when he saw the petite woman in the wheel chair spin around as if she'd been struck. "You self righteous asshole," she snapped, ignoring the slight snort from the nurse who was refitting IV bags. "Do you honestly think that 'I' need protecting while my sister's lying in a hospital bed in a damn coma? Have you lost what few shreds of intelligence you've ever possibly had?" "Royce why can't you learn to keep your mouth shut when it comes to Gracie?" she muttered to herself, making Gabe grin softly. "Gracie will you please look at me, hear me, please I'm here, I'm awake honest," she said her voice trembling as a tear slipped from her eye. "I guess it was kind of you to finally call me, before either the police showed up to question us about any of Bekka's friends. Or we had to hear about it on the news. And why haven't the police found anything out yet?" she said with a sigh, turning back to grab Rebekkah's hand gently. "You can hear me can't you?" she said seeing him standing silently in the corner of the room. "Would you please explain to me why you can hear me but they can't?" she said softly, her breath catching as she fought the emotions overwhelming her. "Rebekkah if you can please stay calm. Just enjoy your visit with your sister. I'll try to explain things when they leave," he said softly, his voice a whisper that drifted across her mind, soothing her. "Grace, do you want me to call Brian so he can drive in and pick you up? I don't think you need to be traveling when you're this upset," he said pulling his cell phone from his pocket. Spinning her wheel chair around abruptly, pinning him with a stare. "If you'd been here the way you should've been when we got here. You'd know that Brian and I came in together," she said sarcastically. "He's on the phone right now trying to find out why the police don't have someone outside her door. Also why there haven't been any updates on the investigation," she said turning her back on him with a loud huff. Royce sat down in the hard backed chair near the window. "Do you honestly think I don't want to be here with her twenty four hours a day?" he asked her, not really expecting an answer. "I'm doing everything I can to split my time so I can keep my business going, which isn't an easy thing to do with this economy. Then the rest of the time I'm right here waiting for her to wake up." Campbell and Rutledge glanced around, seeing the nurses' station they headed toward it, hoping to find Rebekkah's doctor. Rutledge stayed back, allowing Campbell to do the talking, he'd long since gotten use to the open mouthed stares when women in particular saw him. His six foot six frame, along with the fact that his shoulders were so broad he filled every door frame he walked through caused the initial reaction. But once they made their way up to his hard chiseled face, a scar running from the corner of his right eye down to his jaw line, they'd all but lost the ability to speak coherent sentences. Leaning against the wall he watched the small man dressed in a business suit, pacing at the other side of the nurses' desk. "I understand your policy of not being able to give out their number, but is there anyway you can simply patch me through to them?" Brian asked rubbing his hand over his face in exasperation. "Yes I'll hold, and thank you for your help." Campbell nodded to Rutledge as the nurse he'd spoken to walked away from the desk, in search of Dr. Smithson. Following Rutledge's gaze he noticed the man standing around the corner. Brian closed his eyes, listening to the ringing, waiting for the investigator to answer. Straightening he realized he was hearing another phone ringing near by that was in perfect sequence. Campbell pulled his phone from his belt, hearing it ring. "Campbell here," he said, smiling when the business man spun around quickly. "It might be easier if we talked without these," he said, closing his phone, waiting for Brian to walk around the corner to him. Brian held out his hand as he approached the large man at the counter, the badge at his belt assured him he was the officer he was looking for. "Officer, I'm Brian Nelson, Ms. Sparten's brother," he introduced himself. "Pleasure to meet you Mr. Nelson, circumstances aside that is," Campbell said smoothly. "I'm Campbell and this is my partner Officer Rutledge," Campbell said motioning to Rutledge who stepped away from the wall he'd been leaning against. "It's obvious you were looking for us Mr. Nelson," Rutledge said shaking the small man's hand. Brian hesitated, still taking in the massive bulk that made up the second officer. "Yes I was, and please call me Brian. My wife and I came in to see Rebekkah earlier and when Mr. Slade finally decided to show up, I realized no one had been here to ask any questions or give any details of the investigation." Campbell turned as the nurse approached, seeing the doctor following, he glanced at Rutledge. "Why don't we step this way for a minute Brian while the doctor gives Campbell some information," he said steering the smaller man toward a small sitting room across from the nurses' station. "First let me tell you, Campbell and I were just handed the file for this case today, that's why we haven't already been here. Secondly and most important I want to let you know we're going to do our best to find who did this and make sure they are brought in," Rutledge said, as Brian sat down in one of the chairs. Brian nodded his thanks, "I don't understand why the initial officers hadn't already done anything." Rutledge shook his head, frowning. "That's a question we've been asking also. I can tell you, the night of the attack the city seemed to be over run with various issues that had us all, working double time. Due to that two, flat foots from the neighborhood beats were called to the scene," he explained, his expression of disgust obvious. "We're going in to see Ms. Sparten," Campbell said from the door. Gabe leaned back, taking a deep breath when he saw the door open. The doctor walked in, followed closely by a short man dressed in a business suit, he assumed was Grace's husband. Glancing at the bed he waited for Rebekkah's reaction when Campbell and Rutledge walked in behind the two. Rebekkah stared at the first officer as Brian introduced him to Grace, ignoring Royce who introduced himself. Glancing at the corner where she saw Gabe in the shadows, she noticed the huge man, standing just inside the door. "My god they hired Conan the barbarian to be an investigator?" she said with a gasp as Rutledge came into the light surrounding her bed. "Mrs. Nelson, let me assure you," Campbell was saying when Rebekkah made the comment. Coughing loudly, he struggled to cover the laughter that almost escaped him. Rutledge pounded on Campbell's back with a smile, knowing any human man would've been on his knees as hard as he'd hit Campbell. "You really need to have someone see about that cough you've got," Rutledge said causally, stepping back, while Campbell composed himself. "Great one's a slow thinking Neanderthal man, and the other's sickly," she sighed, closing her eyes. "I'm lying here losing my mind, talking to myself and to some hunk of a man I've dreamed up and no one else can hear me." "Gracie, Royce, someone hell even Mister Muscle bound, can any of you hear me?" she yelled, struggling to lift her heavy arms to wave. Taking a deep breath she held it when she felt her arm move slightly. "Hey look would you, I moved. Not much but damn it I moved and none of you saw it. Gabe if you want to be a help like you said you'd be. Could you try smacking one of them and see if they'll notice?" she said looking toward him, he'd covered his eyes, shaking his head. "Okay now even my imaginary man thinks I've lost it, so it has to be true. I've lost what few marbles I had. They're gone," she sighed dramatically. "The contusions will heal nicely, I have no doubt on that matter," Dr. Smithson said, glancing at her chart he gave the officers and Rebekkah's family an update. "I spoke with the Orthopedist earlier this evening, he said he saw no issues with her wrist and ankle both being one hundred percent with in a few weeks." Grace rolled closer to the bed, slipping her hand under Rebekkah's. "Why's she in a coma then?" she asked, her voice breaking as she thought of what Rebekkah and Jake had told her of their father. In An Angels Foot Steps Ch. 02 "Mrs. Nelson, I wish I had a medically confirmed reason that I can give you for that," the doctor said, laying the chart on the bedside table. "I've spoken with a dozen or so of my colleges and they've told me that many times, when a patient's gone through not only the physical trauma that your sister's experienced. But also the mental trauma of something as devastating as," he was explaining. "Excuse me Doc," Rutledge said stepping forward cutting the man off in mid sentence. "I've heard that even when a patient's in a coma; many times they're mentally coherent. I think we should step out before we continue," he said looking at Rebekkah who'd opened her eyes, listening closely to the doctor. Dr. Smithson nodded his understanding. "If all of you would join me in the waiting area," he said turning, following the family and officers from the room. Gabe watched the door close, before looking back toward the bed, already knowing he'd find dark blue eyes boring into him. "Not only can they not hear me, but now they want to treat me like I'm three and not old enough to hear what terrible thing that were done to me. Like I don't already damn know," she frowned, glaring at the door, ignoring Gabe, as he stepped toward her bed. "Rebekkah, you're being a little unreasonable and you know you are," he said with a smile, wondering if he'd be the next target for her wrath. "You're an intelligent woman, or I'm assuming you are," he flashed her a smile, seeing her glare harden. "I've always heard, and I'm sure you have. Anyone who's a victim of violent crime suffers from having to retell it over and over, basically reliving the experience each time," he said calmly, taking a deep breath when he saw her physically relax slightly. "You know for being my own imagination you seem to have a damn mind of your own, when you should be agreeing with me whole heartedly you're not. You're being logical," she grumbled. Gabe's eyes had dropped to her hands, as she was talking. He knew it wasn't his imagination when he saw what appeared to be her hands lifting, but her physical hands remained on the bed. Through out his life he'd witnessed souls leaving their physical bodies, traveling to their final destination with the guides. Their images had been almost transparent, an opaque quality about them. This was different. Rutledge sat for a few minutes as the doctor continued with his clinical explanation of what might occur during Rebekkah's healing process. Standing, he silently excused himself, lifting his cell phone as if he needed to make a call. Stepping into the hallway, walking toward the end windows he dialed a number. Rebekkah noticed his gaze and looked down at her hands. "They're just hands," she snapped, knowing she was being unreasonable, but for the life of her she didn't see why she had to be reasonable at the moment. "They don't do trick or anything like that, hell they don't even move. I should know since I've tried my best to make them act and they don't." "The only thing that's functioning is my eyes and ears. Even now I wonder if I'm really seeing or hearing things or if they're all a figments of my imagination," she was saying, stopping suddenly when the door opened. She watched as the larger police officer stepped into her room, closing the door behind him, talking on his cell phone. "I'll let him know. If I've got anymore questions I'll call you," he said snapping the phone shut. "Isn't this fun," she said rolling her eyes. "I'm in a coma so sure you can use my room to carry on any personal phone calls you feel the need to make. Just forget about me, and don't worry I can't tell anyone." Glancing at Rutledge he held his breath, wondering how long the obnoxious man he'd know for centuries was going to be able to play the charade of not being able to hear her, as she insulted him. Rutledge didn't look toward Gabe as he walked around the end of the bed, stopping around the other side. Reaching down he ran his fingers gently, along the back of her uninjured hand. "There should be a law in the universe that doesn't allow anyone to do things like this to women," he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. Leaning down, he braced his arm above her head, his fingers brushing the fringe of bangs that had fallen across her forehead back. Rebekkah took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calmness move over her as if a refreshing breeze. Her eyes moved over the scarred face of the man leaning over her so gently. Looking into his eyes, she saw gentleness, and also the hard steel exterior he showed to the world. "I bet he's one of the most misunderstood men around," she said quietly, wishing she could take away some of the anger she saw hiding behind his eyes also. Gabe closed his eyes, knowing full well Rutledge was walking a tight rope mentally. "It's hard to not be misunderstood when women want to call you 'Conan the Barbarian' when they first lay eyes on me," Rutledge said quietly, his eyes locking with hers. "He heard me," she gasped loudly. "Oh my god he heard me," she said frantically, looking at Gabe who could only nod without laughing. "How the hell can you hear me when everyone else that was in here couldn't hear me?" she demanded, suddenly wondering if they were all playing some cruel twisted joke on her. Rutledge stood up; reaching the chair near the bed he spun it around before straddling it. "I knew as soon as you walked in, you'd never be able to keep your mouth shut," Gabe said shaking his head. "I'm shocked you managed to wait this long though," he chuckled, glancing at Rebekkah who was staring at both of them with her mouth open. "Now feel free to explain it so she doesn't think she's lost her mind," Gabe said, leaning back, his elbow braced on the foot board of her bed as he sat beside her. "There's no need to explain," she said quietly, her voice fading as it began to tremble. "I've known for awhile Royce wanted to end things, hell it would've been fine with me, without having to go to all these extremes. How the hell he got Grace to go along with it I don't know," she sighed closing her eyes. "Whoa, wait a minute Ms. Sparten," Rutledge said sharply. "You can call me Rebekkah, you've been in on this and know enough about me to not have to be so formal," she said opening her eyes, staring at the ceiling. "What the fuck," Rutledge growled, turning to glare at Gabe, who simply shrugged. "You didn't tell me she'd been hit in the head hard enough to scramble her eggs," he frowned back at her. "There's no need to insult me ya know," she sneered at him. "I'm not the one who hired you. So I suggest you go discuss your termination with who did." Gabe sat up, glancing at Rut, "I think you'd explain quickly, and as well as you can," he said, feeling the pain that'd begun radiating through her brain. Rebekkah closed her eyes, wanting the pounding in her temples to ease off until the two men finally left her in peace. She was beginning to feel sick at her stomach it hurt so badly, but she refused to let either one of them see it. This way they couldn't go back and report what a good job they'd done. "Okay Rebekkah, here's the truth of everything," Rutledge said with a sigh. "Hunky imaginary guy here is actually an angel," he said with a chuckle when Gabe glared at him. "I guess you could say I'm his polar opposite since I'm more along the lines of satin's spawn." "Next thing I know, you're going to be trying to tell me that you're here to fight good and evil on earth," she chuckled, groaning when it made her head hurt even more. "My situation just got in the way of that." Rutledge laughed despite the situation, and the glare he was getting from Gabe. "No I'm not going to tell you that, but I am going to tell you the same thing over and over until you believe it, because it's the truth." Gabe looked up as Campbell walked in. "The family's going to go home and get some rest. The idiot said he's got to run to the office, but will be back as soon as he can," he said from a frown. "The nurse is also on her way in, so I suggest making yourself scarce if you know what I mean. Rebekkah looked at the three men just as the door opened and the nurse came in with her chart. She watched her closely as she took notes, reading the dozens of monitors that surrounded her bed. She fought the urge to yell when the nurse walked up to the officer they'd called Campbell. Her voice froze in her throat when she saw the woman walk right through the man standing there silently. "Subtle," Gabe growled, watching Campbell allow the woman to pass through him. Looking back at the bed he saw what color she'd had in her cheeks had suddenly vanished. "It didn't take me long by the expression on her face, to know that she wasn't buying anything either of you told her," he said with a grin. "Ms. Sparten, I'm Travis, but they call me Campbell. I think you've met Rutledge or Lucas to some people," he laughed when Rutledge growled. "Finally Gabriel who I think has been here a few days now." "Does all this mean I'm dead? Or I'm dying? And the choices that Dirk guy mentioned, is that what they were, if I wanted to go to heaven or hell?" she whispered, tears of confusion running down her cheeks. Rutledge laughed abruptly, making her turn to look at him. "I don't take anyone to hell. I can't stand the place when I'm summoned back for my father's impromptu visits, as he calls them," he said with a grin. "The choices Dirk mentioned was the choice of staying here or letting your soul go to heaven with him to guide you," Gabe said softly, knowing she needed to resolve some of the mass chaos going on in her mind. "It won't be necessary for me to get an answer to that question," Dirk said from the doorway as he became visible, starling a gasp from Rebekkah. "Sorry I didn't intend to appear to be eavesdropping. But I could feel the tension and distress from not only Rebekkah but her brother's furious with the situation, so I thought I could help," he explained as he stepped closer to the group gathered around the bed. "My brother, how did you know Jake?" she asked quickly, feeling her throat tighten just at the thought of him. Dirk stepped to the side of the bed as Campbell stepped back, allowing him access. Reaching down he took her hand, his fingers entwining with hers. "When it came time for Jake to pass peacefully, I was his guide, I was who offered to lead him from the pain and disease he was experiencing, to the peace and restfulness he deserved," he said quietly, his touch allowing him to slip into her mind, sharing the feeling of calm finality, Jake had experienced. "I think I can say without being misguided, when your father passed years ago, it wasn't because he'd wanted to leave you children. But his sorrow and grief for your mother helped him make the choice. His chance to once again be united with her," his voice no more than a breath of air as he spoke. "Why did you come to ask me about my choice before, then?" she asked meeting his eyes. "Where you trying to tell me something, that I'm hurt so badly I might not live?" Gabe reached for her hand, pulling it from Dirk's grasp. He didn't like the guide touching her, knowing his voice and hypnotic thoughts could invade her mind with ease with the contact. "A guide doesn't make those choices for you, but they allow the person to make them. Sometimes in a case like your parents, the person who was gravely injured doesn't want to continue," he said quietly, seeing by her expression, as hard as she tried to understand his choice, it had hurt her. "You're not going anywhere for a very long time Rebekkah," Dirk smiled when she quickly moved her eyes to meet his. "When Rutledge called me earlier and told me what he'd seen, I knew right then, your soul has life yet to live. The choice you'll be faced with now will be, when has your mind has healed enough to wake itself from the comatose state it's placed itself in while it heals?" Dirk said, stepping back from the bed. Glancing at the men in the room and then Rebekkah, he nodded. "I'll be leaving now, but if you have any questions call me. I'll make myself available," he said slowly becoming transparent before vanishing. "I always hated how guide boy did that shit," Rutledge snarled, flexing his arms around the back of the chair he straddled. Rebekkah laughed despite the pain throbbing in her head. "Don't tell me you're jealous when you're a devil angel? Is that what you'd be called? Or would it be a dark angel?" she chuckled when he frowned darkly. "Relating me with those winged pansies isn't the best way to make friends with a demon," he laughed, winking at her, when she gasped as his eyes had turned a fiery red. Gabe laughed having known Rutledge since he'd been on earth. "Would you stop with the fire and brimstone show? Heaven and hell only knows what it would do to our reputations, if we were linked with you." "I thought you were officers as did everyone else. So does this mean the real cops aren't even looking for who did this to me?" she said looking at Campbell. "Just because we're not 'the same as everyone else', doesn't mean we're not real police officers," Campbell said quickly. "Hell if someone told me I'd gone through training and wasn't a real cop, I'd be pissed," Rutledge growled loudly, making her jump before she laughed. "I called them earlier and we went over to look around your studio," Gabe said, wondering how much they should tell her about the damage. Seeing her probing look he sighed. "Someone's vandalized the place, but its all damage that a little hard work and cleaning can correct," he explained. "Gabe said you told him the last thing you remember was locking up, waiting for the last student to leave the parking lot. Is there anything else you might be able to think of that can give us a thread of a direction to go in?" Campbell said, pulling the other chair near the bed. "When I'm lying here supposedly sleeping," she said glancing at Gabe who shook his head. "I go over it in my head to see if there's anything I'd forgotten, or didn't think was important, but nothing. I didn't even have a chance to see who jumped me," she said frowning. "Who ever it was came up behind me. I never had a chance to scream because they wrapped something around my neck and within seconds were punching me. After the second maybe third one I must have passed out because I don't remember anything else." Seeing the strain on her face, Rutledge leaned forward smiling at Gabe. "When are you going to tell her about the new trick she can do?" he asked with a chuckle. "New trick, what're you talking about?" she asked looking at Gabe questioningly. "I've pissed him off by mentioning it," Rutledge laughed seeing Gabe's eyes narrow fiercely. "I think I really pissed him off now." Rutledge reached for her hand, lifting it in his own. "You tried to lift your hand earlier when everyone was in the room, didn't you?" he asked. Seeing her nod he continued, "I'm not sure what the exact sensation was, but you felt as if it had worked am I right?" "I wanted to get Gracie's attention, and you're right it did feel like my arm wasn't as heavy as it normally feels. It didn't move though," she frowned. "You're wrong. It did move but not the same as what you'd expect," he said holding her wrist up, his fingers circling the slender bones. "What you're experiencing is your soul I guess would be the easiest way to explain it. It's trying to move around so you're not so helpless. It wants some freedom to move around while your body heals." Staring at her hand, she shook her head. Nothing was happening now; her arm wasn't moving except when he moved his hand. "It isn't working, even if that's possible," she said frustrated. "Even if it could, would I be transparent like a ghost? And able to walk through walls and stuff," she rolled her eyes. Campbell couldn't help but laugh seeing the determination on Rutledge's face and the pain flashing across Gabe's. "You've seen yourself in a mirror I assume?" he asked with a chuckle. "Think of it like that, a mirror image of yourself that can move while you body continues to rest." "Help me learn," she laughed missing the look of concern Gabe was giving her. After what seemed like hours, she managed to move her arm until the mirror image of her soul, was held a foot or so above her physical arm. Gabe leaned back in the chair Rutledge had vacated, while he was helping her. He knew her next request would be to be able to walk, her impatience at doing nothing but lying there was pushing her on. "Okay I want you to concentrate, move your legs and sit up," Rutledge said, with a smile seeing her legs move from their physical counter parts. Gabe moved to the edge of his chair, sensing that things might get out of control soon. Rebekkah held her breath as she watched what appeared, to be her body moving. The image that moved as she asked it to, willed it to, lacked some of the solidity and substance of her own body, but she could feel the movement in her body and mind. Grasping the edge of the bed, she laughed when Rutledge hollered at her accomplishment. Closing her eyes to help orient her self, she took a shallow breath. Gabe saw her image stiffen slightly as if in anticipation. Standing, he reached for her just as she turned her head, looking back at herself. Her loud gasp of fear was the last thing she knew as she dove into unconsciousness. "Damn it," Gabe muttered, as he allowed the image to melt back into her physical body. "I knew she wasn't ready for that." Campbell leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked from the comatose woman to the tall brooding angel. "She hadn't seen herself had she?" he asked, realization hitting him before Gabe could shake his head. "She'd asked me if I'd get her a mirror so she could see her face, but I refused. I told her maybe in a few days I would, but that she'd know nothing was permanent as it was," Gabe said softly, seeing Rutledge drop his head to his hands. "I didn't know," the massive man said, sitting down hard in a chair. "If I had I wouldn't have suggested this." Gabe reached over resting his hand on the demon's shoulder. "Your intentions were only the best Rut, we both know that. I didn't know how to tell you without her wanting to try this that much faster," he groaned. "I've done more than enough damage here, take me back to the squad Campbell," Rutledge said standing quickly. "Tell her I'm sorry when she wakes Gabe." Gabe watched as Rutledge walked out of the room, his head down as if the weight of the universe had made it's self at home there. "I'll take care of him," Campbell said meeting Gabe's eyes. "He'll be okay as I'm sure she will. Time for he and I to get down to finding out who did this to her, call me if she remembers anything," he said, turning to catch up with his partner. He sat through the night watching her as she slept. The nurses came in and out checking and charting her vital signs. He'd slipped out one time. The nurse was changing the sheets on her bed, giving her some privacy. While he was out he called Sister Katherine and let her know he'd have to call her when he'd be able to escort Ursula home from the plaza. He laughed when she told him; his potential sponsor had come through. Ursula was busy with dance classes after school so she didn't have as much free time to spend at the plaza. Before he hung up, he asked if when she and the others gave their nightly prayers and thanks, if they'd include a friend of his who he thought could use as much encouragement as possible. Standing beside the bed, his eyes moved over her face. The dark bruises were fading slightly, leaving a multitude of colors in their place. He shook his head never having understood why of all colors that sickening yellow was the one that declared healing was happening. In An Angels Foot Steps Ch. 02 His fingers brushed the soft ends of her hair where it lay on her pillow. He couldn't make out its color since it was such a dark contrast against the startlingly white sheets. With a sigh he traced the gentle curve of her jaw line, smiling when he thought how it firmed and stiffened when she was agitated with something or someone. Earlier he'd been standing behind her so he wasn't sure if her soul carried the same physical evidence of the attack as her body. Moving the chair beside the bed, he sat down, leaning his head on his hand. He settled in for a long night watching over her.