Prologue
The night was calm and quiet, despite the rain and the streetlights made the pavement shine with their light. The sounds of cars were few and far between due to the late night hour and Monica couldn’t believe that she had an assignment starting now. She was feeling slightly unsettled, though she knew that God was always with her, but the late hour and being alone was weighing heavily on her.
She had been certain that she would be meeting up with Andrew and Tess someplace near here, but so far there had been no sign of them and she was getting worried. Geography had never been her forte, and she was starting to wonder if she had come to the wrong place. Tess was always punctual and Andrew was usually early in order for the two of them to steal a few moments together to catch up after an assignment had kept them apart. He was her dearest friend and though it had only been a few days since she had last seen him, she was anxious to be with him again and to hear how his own assignments had gone.
She looked up at the clock in the church tower and sighed. Her friends were nearly half an hour late. She must have the wrong address, which meant that wherever they were, they were worrying about her and Tess was probably already preparing the lecture. This was not the way she wanted to begin an assignment.
After a moment of deliberation, she decided it was best to head back the way she had come, but her sense of direction was suddenly skewed. She had been pacing and wandering for a few blocks and she had no idea of which way she should now go. The rain was light, but her auburn hair was already fairly wet and she shivered slightly as she turned down the next street, deciding to hope for the best.
Halfway down the block, Monica began to regret her decision. The street she had chosen was dimly lit and the houses on it were in shambles. Broken windows, no landscaping and empty beer bottles cluttered the area and her foot brushed up against one, the sound of glass on concrete making an outburst in the still night. She hesitated, debating whether or not to turn back, but before the decision could be made a rough hand was clamped over her mouth while another encircled her waist tightly.
The little angel’s eyes widened as she felt fear grip her heart, suddenly knowing she was in the wrong place and this was not her assignment. Her eyes wildly searched for Andrew or Tess…anyone for that matter, but the night remained quiet aside from the sound of her own rapidly beating heart and the hot breathe against her cheek. He was dragging her from the sidewalk and she stumbled, trying to force out a scream, but she was unable to.
It seemed like an eternity before he threw her down to the ground in the mud and Monica struggled to get away. A flash a metal and she felt a sharpness against her throat.
"Don’t say a word and I might let you live, bitch," He growled at her, pinning her down with the weight of his body.
He smelled of alcohol and cigarettes and Monica tried to make out his face in the darkness, but she was unable to see past his eyes. They were cold and cruel, lacking in conscience and she prayed to hear Andrew racing towards her, but her prayers seemed to be going unanswered.
"What do you want?" Her voice trembled, feeling the knife against her skin.
"Shut up, cunt," Then he laughed and the sound chilled the angel to the bone.
Monica struggled, her terror overtaking her common sense and a blow to her face sent blinding white light searing through her line of vision. A moment later, she felt a hand on her breast, his hand kneading and groping and she felt the pain from the roughness. This couldn’t be happening to her! This couldn’t be part of God’s plan. She told herself this, knowing at any moment help would be on the way.
He soon became impatient and his hand grabbed her blouse and tore it away from her, the dainty buttons popping. She couldn’t move beneath his weight and she watched in horror as he moved the knife from her throat and directed it at her chest. Her breath caught in her throat, expecting to feel pain from him plunging it into her heart, but instead he cut her bra away from her breasts and his hand was on her once more. He twisted her nipples violently, and more pain shot through her as his hands tainted flesh that had never before been touched.
"What if I cut off your tits and feed them to you, whore?" He whispered to her, enjoying the terror that was present in her dark eyes.
"Please…" Monica whimpered, closing her eyes as tears began to run down her pale face, "Please…"
"That’s it, baby. Let me hear you beg for it."
She began to sob quietly as she felt him inching up her skirt and a small cry escaped her as the knife seared her as he cut away her panties. She kept her eyes closed tightly, pleading silently with God to stop this. She had helped assignments in the past who had been raped. She didn’t want to become one of them.
His hand was between her legs, the knife forcing her to inch them apart and he pressed it into her flesh enough to force her to comply. He explored her roughly, each violent touch causing her heart to break a little more and her tears to come harder. He inserted fingers into her body, grunting in pleasure and she could feel his arousal through the jeans he wore. The sound of a snap and then a zipper caused Monica’s eyes to snap open and she tried once more to rid herself of this monster.
"Don’t do this, please…" She kicked out blindly and felt a small satisfaction at catching him in the gut with her foot.
He caught her chin in his hand so hard it hurt and laid the knife up against her cheek, "Don’t fuck with me you bitch. A whore like you out street walking in the middle of night. You asked for this and you will enjoy it."
She felt his hardness against her thigh for a split second, before he forced himself into her, and she felt her tender flesh tear. She bit her lip to hold back the cries of pain, humiliation and shame, until it bled as she felt him move within her. He took her forcefully, slamming into her body again and again as he reached up to twist her breast once more in his hand. The pain was nearly unbearable and it seemed to last forever.
"You’re a tight little cunt," he uttered, grabbing at her hips to force himself deeper within her. She was crying openly now and her tears only caused to excite him more.
Just when the little angel thought this violation would never be over, he shuddered and groaned and she felt a warmth fill her that caused her stomach to lurch. She felt him withdraw and remove himself from her shaking body as she curled onto her side, drawing her knees up to her chest.
"Thanks for the lay, slut," He whispered into her ear and a moment later, she heard his foot steps fade away. The angel of God lay on the cold ground, trembling and crying, the shaking seeming to have infected every part of her body. It was many long moments later that she struggled to smooth down her skirt and pull her ruined blouse around her and crept into the shadows. Her mind refused to comprehend what it was she should do. She wanted to run, lest he return, but her legs would barely support her. Finding a shed a matter of yards away, she crept inside and sank back to the ground in silence.
*****
"I’m telling you, Tess, she’s here!" Andrew felt an unnatural anger growing in his chest and he struggled to keep from shouting at the angel he normally thought of as his mentor.
It was nearly four am and the two angels had been wandering the deserted streets for close to an hour. What had started out as drizzle had turned into a steady rain, plastering Andrew’s hair to his head, and soaking through his shirt. He looked over at Tess, who was sheltered beneath a large umbrella but was still wet enough to look completely miserable not to mention annoyed.
"Andrew, what on earth would she be doing here? You know how she is. She probably got lost and called the Father to bring her Home… which is where we should be right now!" Her own impatience was at an all time high, and she wanted to be somewhere warm, dry, and preferably divine.
The angel of death ignored the look directed his way, and instead peered down the seventh road they had crossed since beginning their search. A light mist was rising up from the sewer to cover the ground, and the darkness pressed around him. Maybe Tess was right. Maybe he was imagining things. But he didn’t think so. He took a few steps down the street.
"Where are you going, Mr. Halo?" Tess asked, refusing to move from her spot on the corner. "She certainly isn’t down there."
The run-down street with its trash-littered sidewalks and dilapidated triple-deckers was deserted looking and Tess was right. It didn’t look like anyplace the Irish angel would voluntarily visit. Andrew kept walking anyway, and he felt his heart thud against the inside of his chest when God spoke silently to him. She was here, and he had to find her. He kicked a bottle and heard it shatter as it struck a fire hydrant. His eyes lingered on the broken pieces. She had touched that bottle. He slowed his steps and strained to see everything. Rumpled newspapers in the gutter, a stack of empty boxes next to a chain link fence, and then a glint of silver in the mud.
The narrow alley contained more trash and a rat scurried across it, running from one dented aluminum can to the next. Andrew knelt down and reached out his hand. It was a button, and as his frantic eyes scanned around he saw more. Then, looking up almost fearfully, he saw the shed. He ran to the door but then couldn’t bring himself to touch the handle.
"Father, please let her be all right," he prayed, eyes tightly shut, then slowly opened the door.
The light from a flickering street lamp didn’t allow the angel to see much, but he still saw more than he wanted to.
"Oh, God, please…" he didn’t know what he was begging for when he saw her small body curled on the ground. He knew she was hurt, and hurt so badly that it had taken hold of his own heart. "Monica?" he whispered her name. Her eyes were open and staring into space. He wasn’t even sure if she saw him. "Monica, answer me," he begged as he reached out to touch her shoulder.
That one touch was all it took. She let out the most blood-curdling scream he had ever heard and started punching and kicking and scratching as if her life depended on it. Her blouse hung open in tatters as she fought and Andrew felt his entire existence boil down to that one moment in time.
"Tess!" His shout was almost as loud as Monica’s as he wrapped his arms around the terrified angel and sank to the floor with her still struggling in his arms. "TESS!"
Monica continued to kick out and fight against the angel of death. She sent a tower of empty paint cans rattling to the ground with one foot, and her screams shot right to Andrew’s heart. He was afraid he was only making things worse but he was even more afraid to let her go.
"Monica… please… oh Father, please let her hear me… Please, Monica… it’s me… I’m not going to hurt you."
The change wasn’t instantaneous, but her struggles lessened until she was lying breathless in his arms. He had her face pillowed against his chest, tucked under his chin. He was afraid to look into her eyes; afraid to see the truth written there.
"Andrew," she finally said hoarsely. "Andrew…" she kept repeating his name senselessly, but then, as she seemed to realize that he was actually holding her, she began struggling again. She had been praying for him to find her, and imagining how wonderful it would feel to have him hold her tight and make everything else fade away. Now the reality was not what she imagined. Her skin seemed to burn and she had to get away.
He had loosened his hold on her and she was able to twist away and collapse to her hands and knees. Monica couldn’t remember eating but her stomach clenched and then there was acid in the back of her throat and she was throwing up while Andrew stood helplessly behind her. She retreated to the corner, trembling hands spastically tugging on her blouse, fresh tears tracking down her face.
"Monica…" he moved to her side and knelt next to her, then gently touched her arm, almost knowing that she would flinch.
What light there was suddenly halved and Andrew looked up and saw Tess standing in the doorway. The expression on her face was sadder than he had ever seen it and she slowly entered.
"Tess, I don’t know what…" it was a lie he was still able to tell and claim ignorance.
The older angel crouched and let one hand cup her little angel girl’s bruised face. Monica whimpered, her eyes filled with shame and embarrassment. Why did her friends have to see her like this? Why couldn’t she just disappear? Why couldn’t she die? The last thought startled her but she wanted to go Home so desperately and at the moment death seemed the only option, as God had ignored all of her pleas.
"We need to get her to the hospital," Tess stated.
Andrew clenched his jaw and forced down his building rage. "Monica… I’m sorry, angel," he whispered as he lifted her suddenly stiff body into his arms. He tried to hold her as tenderly as possible. Although she let her head fall to his shoulder, it was more to hide her eyes than out of any sense of security, and involuntary shivers ran through her body, not allowing her to even take comfort in her dearest friend’s embrace.
Chapter 1
The flash of the camera went off once more and Monica flinched, the first movement she had really made since Tess and a nurse had led her back to an exam room. She felt completely numb and had not uttered a sound as the female doctor had cleaned and bandaged the surface wound that the knife had made on her hip. Her clothing had been taken from her and each item had been placed in a bag and all that covered her at the moment was a thin sheet and she found herself shivering violently once more.
"Sue, can you grab a warm blanket?" Dr. Jenkins asked softly of the nurse who was in the room with them, "We’ll get you warmed up in just a minute, Monica."
The doctor’s voice was kind, but Monica didn’t even seem to hear her, anymore than she seemed to feel Tess’ hand stroking her hair. Her brown eyes remained focused on the ceiling, unable to meet with those of her supervisor. She was exhausted, but every inch of her body hurt and she longed to be able to somehow crawl out of her own skin.
"Monica, we need to do a pelvic exam and take some fluid samples. Do you want your friend to stay?" The doctor was surprised to see her young patient shaking her head.
"Baby?" Tess tried to meet the little angel’s eyes again, but failed miserably.
"Just go, please?" The plea was but a whisper. She had never felt such intense shame and she couldn’t bear for anyone she loved to be present for it.
The older angel nodded silently turning to leave before turning back once more, "Whatever you are thinking, Angel Girl, you could not be more wrong," The words were gentle and filled with great love, but the younger angel didn’t even acknowledge them.
"We’ll get started in just a minute, Monica."
She heard the doctor’s words and heard her follow Tess out of the room, closing the door behind her. She could hear them talking softly in the hallway, but made no attempt to listen to what it was they were saying. Monica almost regretted her decision, having never felt so alone. God had abandoned her, of this she was certain. There was no other explanation for this to have happened.
*****
Andrew looked up from his pacing as he saw Tess walk slowly around the corner and towards him. He felt a little calmer, the time alone having convinced him of some things. The worst had not happened. Yes, she had been attacked, but had gotten away in time. Yes, it had terrified her, but in a day or so, Monica would be just fine.
Tess’ expression was vying to tell him otherwise, "How is she?"
The older angel sat down and motioned for him to join her. He looked undecided for a moment before sitting down rigidly in the chair next to her, "I’m not sure of how she is, Andrew. She won’t look at me, she won’t speak to me, other than to ask me to leave while they did her exam."
"What do they think they are going to find, Tess?" He was stubbornly hanging onto his theory, unable to accept the alternative.
She looked at him for a moment, seeing what he was doing as she reached for his hand and held it tightly, "Andrew, Monica was raped. From what her doctor said, judging by the bruises on her body, it was a violent attack. She-."
"They’re wrong!" His outburst caused the other angel’s eyes to widen as well as to sadden, "God would not let this happen to her, Tess! Not to Monica!" His eyes were wild with anger as he rose to his feet again, for the first time in his existence feeling the urge to curse, but he held the words in check, "Maybe to some other angel, but not to her!"
She watched him in silence for a moment, knowing she needed to calm him, for his own sake, as well as for Monica’s. His anger would not serve her in any way and eventually, she would be looking to him for comfort, just as she always did, "Angel Boy, we may not understand it, but we cannot deny it, anymore than that little angel back in that exam room can. The betrayal, pain and shame she must be feeling right now is unimaginable to me, but she will need us to be strong for her, until she can be again." His jaw was tight as he stared down the hall towards her room and Tess approached and gently placed her hands on his arms. "As much as it hurts, Andrew, she is going to need the compassionate strength she knows she can find in you, and I know you will not disappoint her."
He felt tears sting his eyes and he blinked several times to force them back, "I don’t understand this, Tess. So she was in the wrong place. So what? He couldn’t have stopped this?"
Tess felt powerless to answer him, having been asking herself the same questions, "I don’t know what the Father’s plan is, Andrew. I’m just trusting that it will be revealed to us in time."
"How could this have been a plan?" The harshness in his voice shocked him and he forced himself to calm down. The broken appearance of his dearest friend was still foremost in his mind, and the way she had wildly fought against him. Monica had wedged herself into the corner of Tess’ car, not speaking, not looking at either of them for the ride to the hospital, as tears had continued to course down her face. Her expression had nearly destroyed him and he knew of no way to make it any better for her and that devastated him even more.
Sensing he was calming, Tess looked away briefly to hide tears of her own as she offered up pleading prayers for one small angel and the days that were yet to come.
*****
The exam was finished and a female police officer had come and gone, but the angel had refused to speak, in no way willing nor able to relive the events from earlier that night. The officer had been kind and had handed her a card with her number on it, explaining that when she was ready to talk, to please call so that they could find the man who had done this. Monica couldn’t even think of identifying the man; she never wanted to see him again.
The doctor and the rape counselor had left her alone with a change of clothes and access to the shower and now she walked stiffly and painfully to it, and turned on the water, making it as hot as she could bear. She allowed the hot water to run over her mud caked hair before she reached for the soap and wash cloth and scrubbed viciously at her body until her skin was all but raw. Nothing seemed to be able to erase off the feeling of him on her, inside of her and as the sobs came harder, she sank down the shower wall to the floor and gave into them.
*****
Andrew followed Tess and the counselor down the hallway to Monica’s room some time later as he half listened to the things that Melanie was telling them to expect. Withdrawal, nightmares, anger, fear, insomnia, loss of appetite, guilt, shame and the list seemed to go on and on. He was still having trouble putting the words ‘rape’ and ‘Monica’ together and all he wanted right now was to be able to see her and hold her if she would allow it.
Officer Cauldwell had already spoken to them and had left her card with them for when Monica was ready, which told him she still wasn’t really speaking. Andrew wanted the man caught. He wanted him caught and brought to him for revenge is what he really wanted, but he was trying not to linger on those thoughts.
"She’s discharged," Melanie explained as they approached the room, "Take good care of her and feel free to call if you need me."
"Thank you," Tess replied, forcing a smile as Melanie departed. Then she exchanged a look with the angel of death and opened the door.
Monica was sitting on the exam table, a plain gray sweatsuit that was too large for her tiny frame hung on her and to Andrew it looked as out of context as the whole situation felt. Her head was lowered, damp auburn hair hiding her face and suddenly he couldn’t get to her quickly enough.
"Angel," He whispered, laying a tentative yet gentle hand on her shoulder.
She never raised her head as she whispered, "Please, don’t touch me."
But there was no fear of him present in her voice or actions, only intense sadness and shame. Andrew moved his hand from her shoulder to place both hands on either side of her head. Then with all the tenderness and love in his being, he kissed her forehead. She made no attempt to pull away and he watched as she closed her eyes and tears escaped from beneath her dark lashes.
"Let’s get you out of here, baby," Tess instructed softly and watched as Andrew helped the little angel down from the table.
He then turned his eyes to the older angel, "Tess, where?"
"I’ve already been told, Andrew," She replied in a hushed tone, though she noticed Monica was beyond listening, "A good place, where that baby can have time and we can have it with her."
*****
The spring rain left tracks like fat tadpoles as it streaked down the Caddy’s rear window. Monica had taken to following each one with her eyes as it wriggled its way from the top of the window to the bottom before washing away. The rhythmic sound of the windshield wipers lulled her closer and closer to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes she saw his face and her heart pounded so hard it hurt. They had bundled her into the backseat with a blanket and a stiff hospital pillow and told her to sleep. She held the pillow tightly in her arms, protectively covering herself from chin to waist. How could she sleep when she couldn’t close her eyes?
She didn’t know how she would ever be able to sleep again.
They had been driving for almost five hours; ever since leaving the hospital. Every mile took her farther and farther away from the scene of her shame and she welcomed the distance but it couldn’t begin to relieve her pain. She looked into the front seat at Tess and Andrew. They had been almost silent, afraid to upset her. She knew that they didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? She had seen Andrew looking at her in the rearview mirror and each time she had quickly looked out the window before he could ask her how she was doing.
The minutes ticked by and the rain eased off leaving the earth misty and green. Tess had her window open and Monica could smell lilacs. She looked out the window, wondering where they were and then tightened her grip on the pillow when she saw a familiar house.
"Tess…" her voice was barely above a whisper. "Where are we going?"
Andrew heard fear in her voice and he turned around in his seat to face her. "We’re going to the farm, angel."
Monica wouldn’t look at his face, instead dropping her gaze to her lap and then looking pleadingly at the back of Tess’ head. "No… I don’t want to go there. Please, can’t we go somewhere else?"
"Paul and Alex will be there," Andrew tried to convince her. "You know you always look forward to seeing them."
"Not now," she whispered. "I… I can’t see them now… I don’t want them to know…" Her voice went up an octave.
"Nothing has changed," he insisted, wanting to believe it with all his heart. "You just need a rest and this is where God is sending us."
Monica continued to shake her head. "No, He isn’t! You and Tess just decided where to go, but I don’t want to be here. Please take me somewhere else…" Tears were threatening and she was so tired she was powerless to do anything about them.
Andrew looked at Tess helplessly and the older angel lifted her eyes to the rearview mirror and met Monica’s gaze for a heartbeat. "Angel Girl, we are going exactly where we need to go. The Father wants you to heal and he knows the best place for that to happen."
Monica opened her mouth, about to say that Tess’ words were a lie. She knew the truth. God didn’t care what happened to her, but she couldn’t tell her friends that. She hadn’t meant for it to happen… she would have given anything to turn back time and go down a different street, but she couldn’t. She had gone down the wrong street and she hadn’t been able to convince that man to stop and God didn’t want anything to do with her now. Her rational mind was trying to tell her how wrong she was; that God loved her just as much as ever, but the screaming in her heart drowned out those soothing words. She slumped against the door and said nothing. As she had suspected, there was nothing to say.
They pulled into the long driveway at the farm and Monica felt herself begin to tremble, then sucked in a shuddering breath and clenched every muscle in her body. It sent a wave of pain through her, but it stopped the shaking. She was in control for a few minutes at least. She would be able to say ‘hello’ and not burst into tears.
"Well, here we are," Tess said unnecessarily as she shut off the engine.
Andrew quickly got out of the car and opened the back door, offering a hand to Monica and praying that she would take it. She hesitated for a second, but then closed her eyes and held out her hand, waiting for him to close it within his, and trying not to jerk it back when he did. She couldn’t understand how he could still hold it so gently, as if was something precious.
They walked up to the front door slowly, with Tess leading the way, and Andrew reluctant to give up Monica’s hand now that he finally had it. The older angel only had to knock on the door twice before it swung open, and Paul was there, smiling from ear to ear.
"Tess! Alex said she saw your car coming down the drive but I didn’t believe it!" He backed up and let them all in, hardly believing that they were there. It had been nearly six months since their last visit, the day of the wedding.
"Are you here on assignment?" Alex asked as she ran down the stairs and joined her husband in welcoming them.
"More like a little break," Tess said her dark eyes serious although she was smiling. Monica didn’t want them to know, and she couldn’t break that confidence on top of everything else. She knew it would only be a matter of time anyway. Already Paul was looking at the little angel with concern. She hadn’t hugged him yet, and she always hugged him.
"Have you been driving all night?" Alex asked, trying not to look like she was following Monica’s every tremor with her eyes.
"Just about," Andrew replied, giving Monica’s hand a little squeeze. She pulled it away.
"It’s been a long drive," she said, and every forced word took an effort, while the cheerful look she had summoned to her face hurt to maintain.
Alex nudged in front of Paul and put an arm around Monica’s shoulders. "Well let’s get you to bed for a little nap then," she said.
Monica wanted to say that she knew the way, but Alex was her friend and she obviously just wanted to make her feel at home. As much as she was hurting she couldn’t pull away without raising even more questions.
"We’ve been doing a little redecorating."
"Really?" she said, trying to concentrate on Alex’s words.
"Yep. Clearing out one of the guestrooms and turning it into a nursery."
"A nursery!" Monica’s eyes opened wider.
Alex chuckled. "I’m not pregnant yet," she assured her, "but you know Paul. He likes to be on top of things!"
She guided Monica into the room she had always stayed in, and watched as Monica turned slowly and looked at everything as if committing it to memory. The angel was still trying to smile, but it was faltering and Alex saw the pain and grief it was masking. She stepped forward and ducked her head.
"Are you all right, Monica?"
The angel inhaled quickly and nodded, trying to smile again and biting her lip at the same time. The lip was already broken and sore from the previous night and she struggled to control herself.
"Just tired, that’s all," she insisted. Surely God didn’t care if she lied now.
"Okay, well you come on down after your nap. I’m so glad you’re here." She unexpectedly took the small angel into her arms, and when she felt that small body tense and flinch away she felt her heart breaking.
She left the room quickly and shut the door, then made her way down the hall and into the kitchen, the usual gathering place.
Paul and the two angels were sitting around the table drinking coffee. Paul still had a hint of concern in his eyes, but Tess was rambling about a past assignment, and Andrew was staring into his cup.
"When did it happen?" she interrupted.
Andrew and Tess’ eyes flew to Alex’s face while Paul’s brow furrowed. He rose to his feet to pour a cup of coffee for his wife, as he turned his eyes to her, "When did what happen?"
Alex met her eyes with her husband’s. She knew how much he loved the little angel who had saved his life and brought him to God and she hated to say what it was she was almost certain of. Her own heart was breaking as it was, "Monica…she’s been raped, Paul."
The mug in his hand shattered to the floor as her words registered in his mind. He turned his eyes, filled with fury to Andrew and Tess and could see in their faces that it was the truth, "Son of a bitch!" His fist was through the wall a second later. He had to direct the complete rage at something and rage was what he felt. The angel was like a little sister to him and someone had hurt her in a way he could not fathom. He could see it all too clearly now, the broken, detached look in her dark eyes as they had avoided his own, "When? Who did this to her? I’ll kill the bastard with my bare hands!"
"You need to calm down, baby," Tess stated softly, praying that Monica was not overhearing his words. She watched as Alex went to his side and took his hand, making sure he had not done any damage and she could feel the tension that had engulfed his entire body.
"When?" His voice was low and demanding and the agent was all but shaking in anger.
"Last night. Ten hours ago maybe," The older angel replied, her eyes watching as Andrew returned his gaze to the table, "She got lost on her way to an assignment and wound up on a bad side of town. Andrew found her in a shed and we took her to the hospital."
"Who did this to her?"
"She won’t speak of it. The most she has spoken was when she realized we were coming here. She didn’t want you to know."
Tess’ words broke his heart and a moment later he was taking long strides down the hallway to Monica’s room. She may want to suffer in silence but he was not about to allow it. The little angel was dear to him and he had seen too many victims of rape withdraw so far that they never came back. It was not about to happen to her, not if he could help it.
He stopped outside of her closed door and fought back angry tears at the sound of her quiet sobbing. He knocked softly first, not expecting an answer, but not wanting to startle her, before he opened the door. She was sitting cross legged on her bed, pillow clutched to her small body as she wept into it. He wanted to kill the bastard…slowly. Even then, he was certain it would only add up to a fraction of what Monica was feeling.
He approached her carefully, trying to ready himself for anything. He sat down on the edge of the bed and made no move to touch her, though he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, "Sweetheart?" She didn’t even raise her head and he noticed then the way she was shaking. Ten hours had done little to calm her, "I know what happened, honey. Alex guessed. Tess and Andrew didn’t tell us; they would never betray your trust like that." There was still no reaction and his need to comfort and protect was becoming urgent, "Monica, look at me, please?"
"I..can’t…" the words were a tearful whimper as she clutched the pillow tighter up against her chest.
Gently, he reached out and touched her cheek, "Honey, please?" He waited for a moment before she slowly raised her head and for a split second, met his eyes before looking away. But it was long enough and her expressive eyes spoke volumes. He saw the deep bruise on her face and struggled to control his anger, "None of this was your fault, little angel."
She shook her head, the tears never ceasing to fall, "I..was in the wrong place again…I guess…it was time I learned…"
"No." His voice was firm and he saw her flinch and shrink back as he cursed himself for his tone, "No, Monica," He repeated more softly, "That is not how God works. You know that."
"He…didn’t help…me…"
Paul closed his eyes at the assumptions she was making. No matter how many times he had heard such things before from victims, this time was by far the most difficult. He knew he was not going to change her mind tonight.
"Go, Paul…please…this is too hard…"
He lowered his eyes, loathe to leave her alone in her pain, but not knowing what else to do for her right now. Looking back up, he saw a silhouette in the doorway.
"The hospital gave these to Tess," Alex said softly as she entered the room with a small bottle of pills and a glass of water, "She needs to sleep, Paul. She’s exhausted."
Paul moved out of the way, knowing Monica would be more comfortable with Alex right now. He watched as his wife coaxed the little angel to take the tablet and helped her shaking hands hold the water glass. Alex was speaking softly to her as she helped Monica to lie down and pulled the quilt up over her, and she grabbed a spare afghan from the chair as well, hoping that the extra warmth would help still the incessant shaking.
"Monica, I’ll stay with you if you’d like," Alex offered softly, but the angel shook her head and the agent sighed. She could only pray that the pill would work for her and allow her body to rest.
*****
"How is she?" Andrew asked as Paul walked out into the living room. He had passed Tess in the hallway, who had stated she was going to catch a nap, so he had gone in search of Andrew.
He was unsure as to how to answer, "I don’t know…not good, but that is to be expected. She’s finally asleep, though I don’t know for how long."
"Did she say anything?" Andrew was desperate for any small tidbit of information, as his best friend was offering none to him.
"She’s blaming herself," His voice was low and quiet and he saw the pain that flashed in Andrew’s eyes, "She’s always blamed so many things on her not being where she was supposed to be, so this is no exception. I may be mistaken, but she seems to think God was trying to teach her a lesson."
"How could she think that?" Andrew uttered, running a tired hand through his hair, "She knows better than that…"
"She can’t even fathom completely yet, Andrew, that this happened to her. She needs to start talking soon though. The longer she is silent, the less of a chance that this bastard is found."
The angel turned away, watching out the window as the sun rose a fraction higher in the sky. Monica wasn’t the only one having trouble fathoming this turn of events. Her pain had wrapped itself around his heart ever since he had found her and was holding his heart in a near death grip with its intensity.
Chapter 2
Monica opened her eyes but she didn’t want to move. The clock on the bedside table told her that she had slept for almost six hours, but she felt like she hadn’t actually rested at all. Curled under the numerous blankets at least she finally felt warm. She thought about Alex gently tucking her in and squeezed her eyes shut. The woman was trying so hard to help her and she wasn’t acting very appreciative. She’d barely said three words to her.
The angel rolled over, wishing that she could fall back asleep and just keep sleeping forever. She tried closing her eyes, but immediately opened them. Without the pills to help her relax she saw a grainy movie of what had happened to her every time she tried to sleep. The sun was out and the earlier rain clouds had all pushed off. Through the open window Monica could hear birds and smell lilacs. Normally either one of those things would have been enough to make her jump out of bed. Now, she had to force herself just to move.
Keeping the afghan pulled around her shoulders, she walked to the window. Her room looked out over the barn and the fields and she saw Paul and Andrew walking down the path to the barn. They were obviously deep in conversation and she didn’t have to wonder what it was about. The thought of them talking about her made her sick to her stomach.
Turning away from the window she quietly made her way to the door and opened it slowly. Her footsteps barely made a sound and she managed to make it to end of the hall before her stomach clenched. She could hear Alex and Tess talking in low voices down in the living room. Tess was probably drinking tea and Alex most likely had a cup of coffee, heavy on the milk. The little angel abruptly turned on her heel and fled down the hall. She just couldn’t face them yet. She made a mad dash into the bathroom, afraid that she was going to be sick again despite the fact that she hadn’t had anything to eat.
Her breath was coming in quick pants and she sat down on the toilet seat cover and put her face in her hands to try to get it under control. When she looked up and saw the tub reflected in the mirror she suddenly pulled the grey sweatshirt over her head. She still felt so dirty, and the shower was right there, calling to her. She knew that Alex wouldn’t mind as she pulled a towel from under the sink and slid back the shower curtain to turn the water on hot.
The sweatshirt lay on the floor where she had tossed it and she wanted to burn it. It was nothing but a reminder, but she didn’t have any other clothes. She picked it up and carefully folded it and placed it on the counter, then pulled off the white t-shirt she had been given. As soon as it was over her head she caught sight of herself in the mirror and froze. The marks on her breasts stood out against her pale skin, dark blue bruises already forming where he had cruelly groped her. She stared at herself for a full minute, completely detached, just taking in the sight as if it was someone else. Then she moved to fold the t-shirt and the illusion was broken. It was her own body she was staring at, the marks a sign of violation, and she burst into hot tears and crossed her arms in front of her chest, unable to bear the sight.
Being an angel, she had never given much thought to her body, one way or another, and she had never thought of it in a sexual way. No one was ever supposed to see her like that. No one was ever supposed to touch her like that, and now… Now it wasn’t even someone she loved who had seen her… touched her… It was a sick and brutal stranger whose face was permanently etched in her mind. She struggled to wipe at her tear-streaked face, and saw that the mirror had fogged up from all the steam. Quickly she took off the rest of her clothes and wasted no time stepping into the nearly scalding stream of water.
*****
"Is that the shower?" Tess asked, glancing towards the hall.
Alex nodded sadly. "At least she felt able to get out of bed… I suppose we should be thankful for that." Her tone of voice indicated that she was finding it difficult to be thankful for anything regarding Monica’s situation.
"I should fix her something to eat if she’s up," Tess said, moving to rise, but Alex stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"Tess, you’ve seen women who have been raped. She’s not going to want to eat anything."
The older angel’s eyes flashed. "Well I don’t care about everyone else right now. I care about Monica and she needs to eat."
Alex recognized that Tess just needed to feel like she was doing something, and she slowly nodded her head and moved her hand. "The kitchen is all yours."
She watched as Tess left the room and then glanced out the window at her husband and his friend. With all her heart she wished that they had been brought back together by happy circumstances. She would gladly have gone without seeing them for a year if it would have saved Monica the pain she was currently feeling. The water had been running for nearly fifteen minutes and Alex walked down into the basement. The hot water heater could be temperamental and she didn’t want Monica running out.
*****
"I can’t believe I’m asking you to do this, Paul,"
"As if you had to ask? I’m about to form a posse and hang this guy from the nearest tree… by his balls!"
Andrew wasn’t used to thinking in terms like that but he had to admit that imagining Monica’s attacker suffering brought him a sliver of satisfaction in a dark corner of his heart.
"I want to hunt him down myself," Andrew said lowly, "but I’ve spent a lot of time trying to get the anger I sometimes feel under control, and Monica has been a huge part of that. It would just upset her even more if she saw me losing control."
"Oh, but me losing control is okay, eh?" Paul tried to lighten the mood but Andrew barely smiled. "It’s okay, Andrew. I’ve got buddies in the police force in Boston and there’s even an FBI field office there. We’ll find this bastard."
Andrew shoved his hands in his pockets as they continued their walk to the barn. There was so much he was struggling with and his anger was only a part of it. Maybe coming here was meant to be a healing time for all of them.
"I should have been there," he said as Paul opened the barn door.
"What? Buddy, you can’t think that way. Even angels can’t see the future. You didn’t know it was going to happen."
"I don’t even know how to talk to her now," he slumped down on a bale of hay and stared up at the rafters.
Paul was silent for a minute as he walked up and down the aisle. He tried to imagine how he would feel if anything like that happened to Alex, and he could hardly do it. Just the thought made his stomach lurch.
"Give it time, Andrew. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. From what I’ve seen she’s barely functioning.
The angel looked up and met Paul’s eyes. "She won’t even let me touch her. I don’t think she’s afraid… it seems more like she thinks she doesn’t deserve any comfort." His voice was rough and bitter.
Paul sat down beside the angel and clasped his shoulder. "She’ll come around. That’s why God sent you here."
*****
Although Tess spent the better part of the afternoon cooking, Alex’s prediction was correct. The Irish angel didn’t want any part of it. Tess was finally able to convince her to at least have some soup, but even that was a struggle, and immediately afterwards she announced that she was tired. It was the truth. Although everyone now knew what had happened, no one wanted to act any differently around her, and the strain of holding herself together and making small talk, on top of everything else, was simply too great.
No one else felt much like talking either, and by nine thirty they had all retreated to their bedrooms. All except Andrew, who stood outside Monica’s door, hand raised but afraid to knock. He finally tapped twice on the dark wood and slowly opened the door. Monica was sitting up in bed, with all the lights off, and she turned her head slightly as Andrew walked in.
"Having trouble sleeping?" he asked, and a shrug was her reply. "I have another pill for you, he said, holding out his hand.
She hated having to rely on human medication, but she was so tired, and she so wanted to escape into sleep. She took the offered pill and swallowed it quickly.
"Here, let me help you," he said as he arranged her pillows and held the covers up as she slipped further underneath them. He was looking at the empty spot in her bed that was usually his and then his eyes drifted to the chair in the corner. Given the circumstances he didn’t think the bed was even an option, but he went to move the chair closer to the bed.
"Andrew?" she whispered.
He was at her side in a heartbeat. "What is it Angel?"
"I…" this was so hard for her and her throat was beginning to close. "I don’t think I can have you watching me tonight," she uttered miserably.
Andrew blinked and nearly shook his head as if he had misheard her. There was a pain in his chest that he had never felt before, and it matched the pain in his soul. "Monica…" he was about to try to convince her, but one look into her already desperate eyes changed his mind. "It’s all right. I’ll be right next door. All you have to do is call and I’ll be here in a flash."
She nodded and a tear escaped to roll down the side of her face and into her hair. Andrew automatically brushed his thumb tenderly over the trail it had left, then held his breath and hoped she wouldn’t pull away. To his great relief she actually tilted her head towards his hand. Feeling braver, he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.
"I love you, Angel. You’ll get through this and we are all here to help you… including God."
She pressed her lips together, unable to answer beyond a quick nod. Andrew swallowed the emotion in his own throat, stood up and walked slowly to the door.
"Andrew?" he heard just as he was about to close it. "I love you too."
The blond angel retreated to his own room, feeling completely bereft. This was the first time that Monica hadn’t let him hold her to make her feel better and ease her to sleep. He clenched his fists as he thought about the son of a bitch who had all but ripped her away from him.
He was still awake an hour later when he heard her whimpering in her sleep. It was very soft and yet somehow he had been able to hear it. When he felt God’s love flowing through him an instant later he knew how. His next breath was in Monica’s room, and he reached out his hand and soothed her back to a restful sleep. The glow that had accompanied him to her room faded but he made no move to leave. He didn’t want to go against her wishes, but simply couldn’t drag himself away. There were too many thoughts flooding through his mind, and all of them involved her. He sat down in the chair where it stood in the corner. He was further away than he wanted to be, but at least he could see her as he tried to calm his own troubled mind.
He had so many questions. Had she fought against him hard enough? He shook his head, angry with himself for even thinking such a thing. Judging by the slow and painful way she had been walking, it seemed as if she had used every muscle in her tiny frame to stop him. In human form, she only possessed the strength of the small woman that she was and it wouldn’t have taken a huge man to overpower her. The very thought of someone pinning her to the ground to violate her so horribly caused him to bristle.
He wondered if her assailant had a weapon to further add to the terror she must have been feeling. Tess had said that there had been a long cut against her hip and he wondered if that had occurred during the attack or if she had somehow cut herself getting to the shed. Part of him didn’t want to know anymore than he already did, but he also knew that the little sleeping angel in front of him needed to be able to get the words out of her system eventually. He wanted to hear more from her lips than broken pieces of sentences.
As he watched her he felt a sense of nearly overwhelming love as well as a fierce need to protect her. He had always marveled at the intense range of emotions that ran through him where Monica was concerned as well as the affect she had on him. A smile from her could brighten the darkest of his days and her laugh was one of the most wonderful sounds God had ever created. He wondered when he would see or hear those two things again.
She had always shared everything with him and her silence now was agonizing. He knew the depths of her pain; he could feel them within his own heart. Now this man had taken something from her that he could never share with her and that thought infuriated him, even though he didn’t completely understand his own feelings. Angels didn’t really know what human physical love involved, but what she had been shown was nothing of the tender and intimate act that God had intended it to be. That infuriated him as well. The thought of this man taking someone and something so precious to him was enough to make him want to forget he was an angel and go in search of the man himself.
His thoughts were interrupted when his friend suddenly began to tremble in her sleep and he rose from his chair to grab another blanket from the stack that Alex had placed in the room earlier that day. He covered her gently with it, his eyes pained at the obvious flashbacks she was having. Tears fell from beneath her dark lashes and he ached to hold her close, but knew it was not what she wanted.
He sighed sadly, and turned to go back to his room. To watch her suffer and not be able to intervene was more than he could bear. But before he reached the door, he heard her murmur tearfully.
"Andrew…help me…please help me…"
Tears burned in his eyes, knowing her sleeping thoughts were voicing what her awakening ones would not, "I will, angel," He whispered hoarsely, "I promise you, I will find a way."
Chapter 3
Paul woke up just after the sun had slowly risen in the sky to the sound of Alex rummaging through their closest. He opened his eyes, enjoying her womanly shape that was silhouetted through the thin nightie she wore and he considered beckoning her back to bed for much more than sleep. Then he noticed her intense expression and he propped himself up on his elbow, "Alex?"
She spun around, her face showing her chagrin, "I didn’t mean to wake you, honey."
"What are you looking for?" His expression was puzzled, noticing the stack of clothing she had placed on the end of their four poster bed.
"Clothes for Monica," She stated firmly, yanking another heavy plaid shirt from the shelf in the closet, "All she has is the clothing the hospital gave her and they are a constant reminder for her. She needs something different."
He sat up and looked through the pile she had already stacked, "Not exactly her taste and her frame is smaller than yours."
But she was already shaking her head, "It doesn’t matter. She isn’t going to want anything form fitting anyway; nothing that will remind her in any way of what he did to her. She’s going to want to lose herself in them and the only other important thing is that they are warm."
He chuckled softly and shook his head, "Sweetheart, you are about to roast us out of the house as it is. It’s spring and the weather has been beautiful…"
"And she has been all but freezing, Paul. She isn’t letting anyone do much for her, so we need to help in any way she will allow until she is ready for more."
He saw the tears lingering in her eyes and he reached for her hand, pulling her to sit down on the bed next to him, "Alex, what is going on here? I know you feel badly for her. Hell, we all feel terrible, but this is something more."
She was quiet for a moment before she met his concerned gaze, "My best friend in college was raped, Paul. She didn’t seem to be having as hard a time as Monica is, but…two months later, she committed suicide."
"Oh Alex," His voice held great sorrow as his hand moved to her cheek, "I’m sorry, baby."
"I kept thinking I didn’t do enough for her, but she masked it all so well," She explained softly as he swiped at a tear that had escaped her eye, "That’s why this is so important. I know that Monica is an angel, but her emotions are still real and if all I can do right now is clothes, heat and blankets, then so be it. But I won’t stand by and do nothing."
Reaching over, Paul placed his hand behind her head to pull her close to kiss her tenderly, "Thank you, for thinking of the little things that we have overlooked and that I now realize must be so important to that little angel."
"I know how much she means to you, Paul. I love her too and despite the terrible circumstances, I’m glad she is here."
"Me too, honey," He paused for a moment before grinning at her, "You know, no one else is up yet…"
"What are you proposing, Gatlin?" Her eyes twinkled mischievously, grateful for the diversion from what was on her heart.
"I’m proposing that my woman gets her sweet little rear end back in bed so I can have my way with her," He growled playfully as he captured her around the waist and gently flung her back down on the bed. He then quickly captured her retort with his lips.
*****
Monica awoke early and with a start, her heart feeling as if it would surely pound out of her chest and as if his hands were all over her body. Her breathing came hard as she struggled to release herself from the nightmare, but the images continued to play out before her eyes. She felt him twisting her breast and cruelly violating her body again and again as she struggled blindly to free herself from the blankets that had twisted around her body, holding her captive.
She was crying and fighting out against him, before she let out what she had been unable to that night while it had been happening. A scream filled her lungs and emerged from the very depths of her soul, filling the room.
The entire house responded, but Andrew was first, bursting through the door. He recognized her plight immediately and raced to the bed, freeing her as the screams continued to sound through the room. Knowing the risk he was taking, he took her face into his hands, "Monica! It’s me. You’re safe, Monica," He watched as her swollen eyes slowly focused on his face and the scream died on her lips. The brown pools were filled with terror and a shame greater than he had ever seen from anyone before, "It’s me, baby."
Her attacker had called her "baby" but it in no way resembled the tender sound she was now hearing and a moment later, adrenaline still coursing through her veins, she had thrown herself into his arms full force, finally allowing herself momentary safety.
Andrew closed his eyes briefly in relief, as he held her as tightly as he dared as the gut wrenching sobs emerged from someplace deep inside of her. He didn’t know how long she would allow him to hold her close, but he would take whatever she permitted. He only knew that for the moment, she was in his arms and for that alone, he was eternally grateful.
Her sobs were like none he had ever heard from her before; raw and convulsing as she clung to him desperately, her fingers curled around his shirt so tightly her knuckles were white. He looked over at the doorway and saw Tess, Paul and Alex and his eyes pleaded with them to go for now. He wanted these moments and he wanted them alone with her. He saw Paul nod his head in understanding as the agent laid a hand on Tess’ and Alex’s shoulders and steered them away. Then the angel turned his complete attention on the angel he loved more than any other, praying for the right words if the moment lasted that long.
"I’m here, angel," He whispered to her, resting his chin on her head. He longed to be able to tell her it was over, but he knew it was anything but. Feeling her shaking, he released one hand long enough to cover her shoulders with a blanket, before holding her tightly once more, "I’m here."
Minutes ticked by before she began to exhaust herself and she slowly quieted, listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat, feeling too numb to cry anymore. She couldn’t begin to understand why he was holding her. Pity perhaps. Or a sense of obligation stemming from years of friendship. She knew the truth though. In fifteen minutes that had seemed a lifetime, one man had taken everything from her because God had allowed it to happen to her. Her existence held no worth and she was now forever impure.
Andrew continued to hold her, loath to speak and have the moment be lost, but he knew she had to talk if only she would, "Tell me what happened," He requested with all the gentleness in his being.
"I can’t," Her breathing hitched as she whispered the words. It was her shame. How could she share it with one who remained clean?
"Monica, you’re safe here. You can tell me," he assured her, thinking that she must still be afraid, and not guessing at her real reason for remaining silent.
She shook her head, and he felt her begin to tense and cursed himself for pushing even that tiny amount. He tried to soothe her again, reaching up and gently stroking her hair, but it was too late. She started to pull away and he knew he couldn’t hold onto her without upsetting her even more.
The absence of his arms around her felt like an almost physical ache and yet she felt guilty for wanting them back again. She pulled the blanket tighter instead and choked back the last of her tears. Andrew’s warmth was so close she could feel it but in her mind he may as well have been a thousand miles away. Another sob rose in her throat and she forced it back. She was losing everything and she couldn’t begin to imagine how she could ever get it back. Andrew was looking at her with such sadness in his eyes and she couldn’t bear to look at him. She was hurting him. She was hurting everyone she loved and the knowledge brought her even more pain and guilt.
Andrew risked everything by speaking again, "I’m not going to push you… I promise you… But whenever you are ready, I’m here. I love you so much and all I want is to help you, Angel."
Monica’s grip on the blanket tightened. "I’m not an angel anymore," her voice was flat and dead.
He felt his stomach twist painfully and a combination of rage and sorrow flowed through him. His hands reached up and grabbed hers, holding them tightly and not letting go even when she started to pull back. She had to listen to him. If there was one thing he had to convince her of, it was this.
"Monica, you have been an angel since the moment God created you and you will be one until the end of eternity. Nothing! Nothing can take that from you!"
She finally met his gaze and held it for the first time since he found her in that rotting shed and her eyes held nothing but grief and despair. "God can… He left me, Andrew… He left me there and I haven’t felt Him since! He doesn’t want me as His angel… and why should he?"
"Stop it! You’re talking crazy! He is heartbroken over what happened to you. He hasn’t abandoned you… he hasn’t! God loves you with everything that is good and pure in the universe."
"But I’m not!" she screamed. "I’m not pure, I’m filthy! Can’t you see that?" She ripped her hands out of his and collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in the pillows.
Andrew stared at her in shock. Her pain was washing over him in waves and it crashed up against the seething rage and guilt that bubbled up from his heart. He quickly stood up and backed away from the bed. He wasn’t helping her. He was only hurting her even more. He all but ran to the door, and then froze with his hand on the doorknob.
"I wish I could convince you of how wrong you are, Angel," he whispered, and then he was gone.
*****
"What happened in there?" Paul stood up as Andrew entered the kitchen.
They had all heard Monica screaming at him and now his defeated expression only added to their confusion and worry. He sat down heavily and studied the wood grain of the tabletop.
"Baby? Is she all right?" Tess asked, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"I don’t…" he was about to lie but he stopped himself. "No… no she isn’t, and right now I don’t know what to do to help her." He pushed himself back from the table and stood up, not facing any of them. "Excuse me… I need some air," he said, and quickly left through the back door, not even bothering with a jacket.
"I’m going after him," Paul announced a minute later.
"Paul…" Alex was uncertain. Maybe Andrew just needed some time alone.
The agent’s voice was stern and certain. "I said, I’m going after him," he repeated. "We’ve got one angel in there who is practically afraid of her own shadow, and the one angel who can help her just walked out the door. He doesn’t need to be alone. He needs to talk."
When Tess reluctantly nodded her agreement Alex sighed and released her husband’s arm. "Take his coat," she said as he approached the door. "It’s early and I saw frost on the grass."
A smirk lightened the tension on Paul’s face. "Yes, Mom," he said, shrugging into his own beaten up barn jacket, and grabbing Andrew’s from the hook before heading out the door.
He saw Andrew walking past the barn and continuing on along the path. Picking up the pace, he jogged down to catch up with him. The angel’s strides were long and determined although the path he was walking led nowhere but straight back to the barn.
"Andrew! Buddy, wait up!" he called out, and the angel slowed his pace although he didn’t stop and he didn’t turn around.
Paul slowed to a walk as he approached; hoping that talking to him really was the right thing to do. "You forgot your jacket," he said as if that was the only reason he had chased after him. "You know how wives are," he continued with a smirk.
Andrew rolled his eyes as he put on the jacket.
"Of course, now that I’m here…"
The angel’s face turned serious again just before he turned away.
"Come on, Andrew. This is me you’re talking to. I want to help you." He took a breath. "I want to help her… and getting you back in there with her will definitely help."
"I wouldn’t bet on it," Andrew replied with just a touch of bitterness.
Paul just stared at him, waiting for him to relent, and within a minute of walking he did.
"She doesn’t even think she’s an angel anymore, Paul," Andrew’s tone now was filled desperation. "She thinks God abandoned her… that He wants nothing to do with her…"
"What?" Of all the things he was expecting to hear, that didn’t even make the list.
Andrew kicked angrily at a rock and sent it skittering into the woods. "I tried to tell her she was wrong, but I’m angry at Him myself." He had told Tess that he didn’t see how this could possibly be part of a greater plan, and that was still how he felt.
"Of course you’re angry!" Andrew’s eyes widened and he stared at the agent. "You love her more than anything else, and she has been hurt in the worst way possible, Andrew. You’d be a heartless bastard if you weren’t fucking furious!"
"But how can I reassure her when I feel this way? I’m blaming myself, I’m blaming God…" he lowered his head and whispered. "Last night I even found myself wondering if she had fought hard enough."
Paul stopped and clamped his hand on Andrew’s shoulder, forcing him to turn and face him. "Andrew, you are feeling everything that a husband would feel, and I hate to be the one to break it to you, but for all intents and purposes, Monica is your wife. What you’re feeling is normal. What you need to remember is that you are also an angel. You know about his love and mercy and healing power first hand. Hold onto that knowledge even when you are your most angry. I hear that He won’t mind, even if you feel the need to curse him out," he said with a wink. "He’s strong enough to take it and still be there to prop you up afterwards."
Andrew shook his head, wondering when Paul had learned so much. He was just about expecting him to start to glow. "I’ll keep that in mind," was all he said, but it was obvious that he had taken every word to heart.
"Good, because there’s a little angel in there who needs you."
*****
Andrew walked for a long time before returning to the house. He needed time to think and to talk to God. Monica needed time to calm because once he reached her room, she would be in for the battle of her existence. The sun would not fall again with her believing God was punishing her or no longer wanted anything to do with her.
Tess looked up when he walked in the back door, seeing his determination on his face, "You all right, baby?"
He ignored the question, unsure as to how to answer it. He felt more centered at the very least and completely committed to his cause, "Has she come out of her room at all today?"
Tess shook her head sadly, though she was trying to decipher what it was he was planning. She knew him well enough to know that his mind was set on something, "She won’t even eat. That baby has had nothing more than half a bowl of soup since this all happened and she can’t go on like this. The last thing I want to do is push her-."
"You don’t have to, as I will," He stated firmly as he began to walk from the kitchen, "Make her a plate for lunch, please Tess. She’ll either eat it out here or in her room, but she’ll eat."
He knocked once before opening her door and he nearly lost his nerve as her vacant eyes turned to him before quickly looking away. He steeled himself against her expression though and after closing the door behind him, walked to her bed and sat down, "You don’t have to say a word. You don’t even have to look at me. But you’re going to listen, Monica." He heard her sharp intake of breath, but he continued anyway, "You sit here and tell me God has abandoned you, that you aren’t worthy to be an angel anymore and you may even believe these things, but I won’t Monica."
He was very rarely harsh with her and now his tone was bordering on it and she found herself growing angry, "You don’t understand!"
"You’re right. There are some things I don’t understand. I don’t understand why this happened to you, but even more than that, I don’t understand how you can possibly believe the things you are telling yourself. The Father sent Tess and I to find you. He told us to bring you here, so you could be surrounded by those that love you. Does that sound to you like He has abandoned you, because it sure as hell doesn’t to me!"
Hot tears welled up in her already swollen eyes, "I begged Him to help me! I begged Him not to let it happen! I begged Him to send you to find me and to stop it! I prayed to Him with everything in me, Andrew! But He left me there! He let him hurt me!" She was all but screaming at him as tears coursed down her face, but Andrew welcomed the change in emotion and didn’t interrupt her. He knew that there had been anger beneath the surface and that this was just the tip of the iceberg, "He could have stopped it! At any point, He could have stopped it! He could have told me I was in the wrong place, where I needed to be! He could have stopped me from going down that street, He could have sent you, anything! But he didn’t! He didn’t!"
A lump had formed in his throat and he struggled to regain his composure, "I wish I had the answers to those questions, Monica. I do. I know in those moments you felt abandoned, but it isn’t the truth and deep in your heart, you know that. Terrible things have happened to you before and there was always a reason and I trust that there is this time as well. But the reason is not that you lost your way the other night. God hasn’t left you! You’re mad as hell with Him and you turned your back on Him! You have every right to be angry, but you have no right or reason to doubt what you are!"
"He took from me who I was!" She cried out bitterly, "He took everything from me! You all see me differently now! I’m not Monica the angel, I’m Monica the angel who was raped! I don’t even understand how you can look at me anymore, yet alone want to touch me!" She faltered and lowered her head, the sobs coursing through her once more, "I hate him for that…I hate him…"
Quickly, he moved closer and took her face into his hands. She tried to jerk back, but he held fast, forcing her to meet his eyes, "He only took from you what you are willing to surrender to him. You have no choice about what he took physically, but emotionally, you do. We are all here and we all love you. God, Monica, I love you so much it hurts! He didn’t take that from you. He didn’t take Tess, Alex or Paul from you and God didn’t take His love away from you! The proof of that is right here in front of you! Can’t you see that?"
Monica searched his eyes, wanting so badly to believe what he was telling her, "I’m trying to," She choked out as her vision blurred with tears. She blinked rapidly to clear them and then drew in a sharp breath at what she saw. The truth was in his eyes as he gazed into hers and the love she saw there caused another helpless sob to escape her, "Andrew…"
Relief coursed through him as he let go of her face to pull her to himself, feeling her wrap her arms around him at long last, "That’s right, angel," He whispered as he rocked her gently in his arms, "I love you and I will always love you. I’m sorry I was so harsh, but I couldn’t have you doubting; not about this."
"I’m sorry…I keep pushing you away, but I…I didn’t see how…"
"Shh. I know, but you needed to see and you need to know that I am not letting you go. Not now. Not ever."
She nodded her head against his chest, "Please don’t. I need you so much right now, Andrew. So much. Nothing has ever…hurt this much…"
"I know that, sweetheart," He replied, his voice laden with sadness. He knew all too well, "Nothing has ever hurt me as much either as this pain you are in, but I promise you, I will be there through it all. When you are ready to talk, I will listen. When you need to yell at me, I can take it, and when you need to cry, I will hold you. I’m here for the long haul, angel, no matter how long it takes."
She buried her face against his chest as the feel of his hand stroking his hair soothed her aching soul, "Thank you…thank you for being here and for loving me, even though I don’t like myself very much at the moment…"
"We’ll change all of that, Monica, one small step at a time," He pulled away to cup her face in his hands once more as he swiped at her tears with his fingertips. He could still see the agony and shame in her dark eyes, but along with that was also a fierce trust in him that he silently thanked God for, "Alex brought you a few changes of clothes, so why don’t you take a shower and change into something else? We’ll shred the hell out of what you have on if that will help," He was teasing ever so gently and the tiniest of laughs escaped her through her tears, "Tess is fixing you lunch. Do you want to come out, or shall I bring it into you?"
He was giving her no choice and she hoped her stomach could take it, but at the same time, he was taking care of her and at the moment that was all that mattered, "Can you bring it in here? It’s so hard to make small talk right now. I can’t talk about what happened, but I can think of nothing else."
"I’ll bring it to you and you don’t have to say a word if you don’t want to," he saw the grateful look in her eyes and he moved to kiss her forehead. "Now go. I’ll take care of things for awhile. You just take it one moment at a time and tell me what you need."
Monica blinked back fresh tears, before she hugged him one more time as she silently thanked God for loving her enough to send him to her.
Chapter 4
It was her favorite kind of sandwich, Tess’ homemade chicken salad with fresh lettuce and tomatoes on wheat toast, but the little angel stared at it with something akin to fear. She glanced up and saw Andrew watching her, his expression supportive, and she tried to force down her nausea.
She was wearing a pair of Alex’s jeans, with a belt cinched around the waist and the cuffs rolled up four times. The shirt was red flannel and her fingertips just peeked out through the cuffs. Tentatively she stretched them out to take half the sandwich and bring it to her mouth.
Ten minutes later she let out a long breath and looked down at her plate with tears in her eyes. She was only half done. Looking up she saw Andrew’s watchful eyes still on her. All he asked was that she eat and she couldn’t even manage that. Her hand trembled as she reached for the rest of her meal but it was quickly covered by a larger, stronger one.
"You don’t have to eat anymore, angel," he said, his eyes sad but understanding.
"Thank you," she whispered, letting her eyes drop to her lap.
"You did fine, Monica… you just need to take it slow," he said reassuringly, but his words couldn’t stop her stomach from churning.
He lifted the tray from her legs and set it on the nightstand, then turned to face her, hoping that they could talk. He watched as the color suddenly drained from her face and she moved quickly to get off the bed. His hand caught her wrist and held it firmly.
"No, angel… I can’t let you do that."
Her face felt like it was burning as her insides threatened to revolt. She was using all her strength not to throw up all over the bed. "Please, Andrew… Let me go…" she pleaded.
"I can’t. You have to try to hold it in… I know it’s hard but if I let you go you’re only going to start a cycle that will be that much harder to break later." He felt like a complete monster but he knew he was speaking the truth.
Her expression was full of self-reproach and he longed to wipe it away. She leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes, letting tears of frustration slip from beneath her lashes. He could see the effort it was taking, the way her breath hitched, and the way she pressed one hand to her stomach, fingers clenched like claws against her shirt. She was suffering and he was making it worse. He wanted the floor to open up and claim him and yet he couldn’t look away.
She turned her head towards him slowly and opened her eyes. He fully expected her to tell him to leave, and so the words she actually spoke made his throat tighten and he had to clench his jaw to keep his own breathing steady.
"I can’t do this alone," she whispered. "Please… could you hold me? Talk to me about something else?"
He had her hand in his a moment later and held it tightly. "Anything, you want Monica. I’ve just been waiting for you to ask," he said, voice thick with emotion.
She moved over slightly and he slowly eased himself onto the bed, not wanting to do anything to scare her into a retreat. Looking into his eyes she was able to see how hard he was trying, how much he wanted to fix everything… how much he loved her. She cautiously moved closer and then lay her head on his chest and breathed out a sob as he gently wrapped his arms around her. Her stomach was still twisted in knots and she had to keep swallowing to keep it in check, but then he started to speak, and his voice was like a soothing lullaby.
"Remember the last time we were at Home and you got to spend time with Faith and her mother?" he started, and then just kept talking, retelling all of their happiest memories, and reminding her of all the joy and peace she had brought to others.
As he spoke she gradually felt the tension leave her body. Her stomach settled, and her heart slowed back to a normal rhythm as she listened to his beating beneath her ear. Half the time she couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying, but just the sound of his voice was enough. She felt her eyes drifting closed and her breathing becoming smooth and even as sleep beckoned and she welcomed it.
Then, with a start that even Andrew could feel, her eyes were wide open and her heart was pounding in her chest. His arms were suddenly too heavy around her and yet she was too ashamed to move away. Her breath caught in her throat and she was sure she was suffocating but she still struggled not to make a sound.
The very instant that her panic struck, Andrew felt it deep in his heart. At first he didn’t know what to do, but when he looked down into her face and saw the fearful memories written there he instantly released her and moved out from under. She rolled away and curled into a ball and he felt his heart tearing.
"I’m sorry," he had to strain to hear her words.
He was off the bed a second later and had moved to kneel on the other side of it so that she could see his face… so that she could see the truth in his eyes.
"You don’t have to be sorry for anything," he said firmly. "Whatever you need, Monica. That’s what I promised you. Please don’t think you have to do anything to please me." He waited until she nodded slowly before taking a breath and asking, "Can you tell me what scared you? Did I do something?" Just the thought that something he had done had caused such a reaction was enough to make his heart clench, but he had to know.
"It wasn’t you," she insisted. "I just… when I started to fall asleep… I remembered him holding me down…" her voice trailed off to nothingness. She felt like her heart was breaking. The one thing that had always, without fail, made her feel safe and loved was lying in Andrew’s arms, and now even that comfort had been stolen by a drunken man in a dank, trash-filled alley.
Andrew had to fight to keep his emotions in check. His strong hands were balled into fists and he had no doubt that if her attacker was present he would only remain alive for as long as it took him to snap his neck.
"It’s not your fault… it’s not. What you’re feeling is horrible, but it’s normal, angel." She shook her head as tears pooled in her eyes, but he carefully touched her cheek with the backs of his knuckles and stopped her from saying anything. "It will get better, Monica. I promise it will get better."
She looked up at him with a shadow of hope in her dark eyes and said nothing.
"You should sleep," he continued, dragging the blanket from the foot of her bed and covering her. "I’ll be right down the hall." He didn’t want to leave, but if his presence kept her from being comfortable then he wasn’t about to stay.
"Please, don’t go," she whispered as he stood up.
"Monica…"
"I’ll be able to sleep if you sit with me," she insisted. "I need you close to me… you’re the only one who can chase away the dreams."
Andrew swallowed hard, but he moved to get the chair from the corner, and dragged it beside the bed. She looked at him gratefully and then closed her eyes as he sat down.
"Just the other day I was thinking that we should go back to that little cabin where you learned to jump off the dock…"
*****
By the middle of the night, sleep was out of the question. No matter how hard she tried, Monica was unable to close her eyes for more than a few minutes. She had remained in her room the rest of the day, pleading to refuse dinner, certain she would never be able to contain any more food than the half a sandwich she had eaten at lunch. Whether she ate or not, her stomach was in a constant state of upheaval, her nerves completely frayed. Andrew had been unable to resist her tearful pleading this time and had relented.
He had stayed with her all afternoon, but come the night, the little angel was simply unable to have anyone with her. The mere thought of anyone looking at her through the darkness was more than she could bear and she had wanted to cry at the devastation in Andrew’s eyes and in her own heart when she had asked him to leave. Her attacker had taken so much from her, more than anything physical. He had placed a barrier between she and those she loved the most and no matter how hard she tried, she was unable to tear it down.
Now she tossed and turned in her bed, her eyes unable to close in the darkness that surrounded her and began to close in on her. Her breathing came in short, panicked gasps, certain that at any moment, he would emerge through the darkness to take her once more.
She had taken a pill two hours ago, but they didn’t seem to be working any longer. The anxiety was welling up inside of her and threatening to overtake her, even while exhaustion battled against her fear. She felt as if inside, she was constantly screaming, begging for someone to take away this pain that had engulfed her and had taken away all that she was or would ever become.
Monica bolted up in bed, trying to calm her suddenly racing heart and to bring her breathing back under control. Every time she was certain there could be no more tears inside of her, they would emerge once more, silently sliding down her face as her soul cried out for help that she wasn’t even sure existed. She longed to go to Andrew, but knew she would only hurt him once more, so she remained, longing to sleep, longing to forget all that was resting so heavily on her heart.
She sniffled and tried to wipe away her tears as she reached for the glass of water on her nightstand and her hand brushed up against something, knocking it over with a tiny rattle. The pills. Andrew had left them on her nightstand and now her trembling hand sought them out. Her heart was still pounding in her ears as she dumped a few of them in her hand, determined to sleep and to make it through this night. One was no longer bringing her peace so there could be no harm in upping the dosage a little. She threw them to the back of her throat and drank quickly to wash them down, praying that now her body would finally rest from the certain hell that was surrounding her.
Lying back down, she drew the blankets over her trembling body and forced herself to close her eyes. She tried to focus on the different happy memories that Andrew had reminded her of that afternoon, but each time she tried, she would hear the voice of the man who had stolen her existence as it had once been from her. The tremors were back and her small body shook despite the layers of blankets that lay overtop of her as she prayed that morning would soon come.
But soon her eyelids grew heavy and she surrendered to the void.
*****
Paul ran a hand over his face as he made his way down the hallway towards his bed and Alex. It was late and he was tired, but he had been on the phone with one of his contacts in Boston. There were no leads and no other reports of rape and he was frustrated. He was longing to do something, anything to help the little angel, even if that something was avenging her. He didn’t know if it would make Monica feel any better, but it sure as hell would make him feel wonderful.
The house appeared silent, but before he could make it halfway down the hall, the sound of a terrible retching coming from Monica’s room caused him to bolt to the door and fling it open. He switched on the light and saw her. She had managed to grab the trashcan near the bed before she had gotten sick and now her tiny body was heaving violently, "Monica!" He hurried to her side, moving his hand to rub her back gently, knowing at the moment she was too sick to argue at his touch. He reached over to grab the water glass beside of her bed and that was when he noticed the open bottle next to it. His heart leapt to his throat as he saw the two remaining pills in the bottle, knowing that there had been several others as he and Andrew had the discussion earlier about how many more nights the prescription would last, before she would be left to fend for herself in trying to rest.
"Monica?" Andrew appeared in the doorway, his eyes widening at what was happening, "What happened?" He was by her side in an instant, resting a hand on her knee as she finally began to stop coughing.
"You left the fucking pills in here, that’s what happened!" Paul snapped, the fear he was feeling causing him to lash out at the angel, "Thank God her stomach couldn’t digest the handful she swallowed!"
Andrew’s head jerked up and a look of anguish crossed his own face as he turned back to the still trembling angel, "Monica, what were you thinking?"
Hearing the trace of anger in his voice that fear for her had put there, Monica looked up at him, the tears still streaming from her reddened eyes, "I didn’t-."
"Why would you do this?" He demanded, taking the trashcan from her shaking hands in order to grab her forearms in his hands, refusing to release her.
She shook her head, her tired mind barely able to keep up with his rant, "Andrew, I-."
"Honey, you know this is not the answer to anything," Paul interjected sadly, "We know how badly you are hurting right now, but-."
"Why?" Andrew’s heart was racing. The fear of losing her completely had gripped at his heart and he was unable to calm it. He had already lost enough of her in all of this.
His grip on her arms suddenly felt too tight and his demands were causing her to tremble once more as a sob escaped her. She looked from the agent to her best friend, trying to speak as clearly as her wavering voice would allow, "I just wanted to sleep…I couldn’t and he…he was everywhere…I was so tired…I’m…so…tired…" She lowered her head as soft cries left her weary body.
Andrew closed his eyes, the guilt hitting him from every direction. She’d had no idea of what she had been doing other than trying to find a few hours of peace that was just beyond her reach and here he had accused her of the unthinkable. No, the unthinkable had already happened to her. The rest of this nightmare was just the aftermath and he had just added to it.
"I’m so sorry, angel," He whispered miserably as he slid his hands down to wrap up her own in them, "You scared me and I’m not sure what I was thinking."
"I didn’t realize…I wasn’t thinking…" She never looked up at either of them, finally understanding what they had thought she had done. Was she that far gone that they would expect something like that from her? She was doing her very best to cope, but it just wasn’t enough, yet she didn’t know what else to do. They were expecting terrible things from her, so how could she accept that she was ever going to be all right again?
Paul took a deep breath, the rush of panic slowly leaving his body. He grabbed the top to the pill bottle and twisted it on.
"You can't just take as many of these as you want," he said wearily. "If you can't sleep, you need to let us know. Tomorrow we'll call the hospital. Maybe the doctor can prescribe something a little stronger."
He was ashamed of what he had thought, and was feeling guilty both about what he had said to Andrew and the way the little angel was staring at her hands. It wasn't bad enough she had been raped, now her two protectors had all but accused her of trying to kill herself.
She was shaking her head a little and she pulled back her hands to wrap them across her chest. "I wouldn't do that," she murmured, trying the keep the tremor from her voice. "I know what you all think of me, but I wouldn't do that."
The disgust in her tone was impossible to miss, and Andrew and Paul shared a grim look. They had their work cut out for them, but now was not the time to argue with her. They needed to calm her down and pray that she would at least sleep through part of the night.
"We were just scared, sweetheart," Paul said, "and I was the one who started it. If I'd taken two seconds to think I never would have suggested that."
She gave a small shrug, and wiped ineffectually at the tears that persisted in falling. Andrew tucked the hair behind her ear and gently touched her cheek. He had felt so close to her earlier, and this felt like a giant step backwards. Now she didn't even think they trusted her, and he wasn't sure what to say to make that right.
"Paul's right. We jumped to conclusions. I'm sorry." He bent his head to look into her sad eyes. "Forgive me?"
She involuntarily rubbed her arms where he had grabbed her, and the motion was like a kick in the stomach to the blond angel. He swallowed hard and reached out to touch the light red marks.
"I didn't mean to do that, angel. I swear… I…" he didn't know what to do to convince her and cast desperate eyes towards Paul.
Before the agent could speak, Monica whispered, "It's all right… you were just scared…"
Andrew lowered his voice. "It's not all right, but I was scared." His heart was pounding but he continued on, "Right now I feel like I can't do anything to help you… like I'm losing you a little bit at a time… But at least you're still here. Monica…" he tilted her chin up so she could see his eyes, unconcerned with the fact that Paul was still there, watching everything. "If I ever lost you completely… my existence… my place… here or at Home… it wouldn't mean a damn to me. You are a part of me, angel, and I swear I will help you through this. I will move Heaven and Earth if I have to, but I will find a way to make this right."
A sob caught in her throat and she covered her face with her hands, but Andrew wouldn't let her hide herself that way. He tenderly took her hands in his and then brushed her tears away and held her close. He was more grateful than he had ever been that she didn't pull away. Paul stood up and laid a hand on top of Monica's dark head.
"I'll see you in the morning," he said quietly, and then he looked at Andrew with an expression not unlike a protective big brother. It clearly had 'you take care of her' written all over it.
"I know you don't want me to stay, Monica, but maybe I can just help you get back to sleep," Andrew said once Paul was gone.
She nodded against his chest and then slowly pulled away and curled onto her side while he took his place in the chair beside the bed. This time he didn't bother speaking, he just let his hand rest on the bed and felt his heart melt when the little angel took hold of it and held on tightly.
*****
When Monica opened her eyes she was surprised to see the sunshine pouring in her windows. She moved her head slightly and was again surprised… this time at how disappointed she was to see Andrew's chair vacant. She wondered how long he had sat with her. It felt like she had drifted off soon after touching his hand.
She pushed herself up, stifling a little groan at how stiff she still was. A quick tear came to her eye but she blinked it away. She didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to remember. Knowing that Tess would probably be in soon with a four course breakfast, she tried to concentrate on how much she always loved the older angel's cooking. Just the thought of food made her stomach lurch, but everyone was looking at her to get better. She couldn't disappoint them more than they already were. A prickling in her heart was trying to tell her that they weren't expecting anything more than she was ready to give, but it was difficult to hear above the much louder doubts that filled her mind.
A light knock on the door caused her to look up and pull the covers up to her chest. She was wearing a heavy flannel nightgown, but she still felt as if everyone could see right through it.
"Come in," she called, when the door remained closed.
A second later it swung open and Alex backed in, dragging the television from the master bedroom.
"Good morning!" she said brightly. Throughout it all, Alex was the only one who always spoke to her just the same as she always had. It put Monica immediately at ease, and she even managed a small smile. "I thought you might like something to stare at besides the walls," the woman said with a little smile.
She carefully rolled the stand into position, standing back for a second to make certain that it was at the perfect viewing angle for the little angel. Then she moved closer to it and pulled open the drawer that sat below the little vcr shelf. She brought her hands out full of videos.
"I have a nice selection here, for when you get tired of 'Jerry Springer', she said with a laugh. "Actually most of these are Paul's," she whispered. "I think he has the complete collection of Tracy/Hepburn pictures. Who knew he was such a romantic?" she raised one eyebrow as she grinned at Monica. Of course he also has the boxed sets of Die Hard and Lethal Weapon, but, what are ya gonna do…" She pointed to one of the boxes. "It's a Wonderful Life," she said. "That one even has an angel in it." She smiled when Monica leaned forward to pick it up, but then frowned at the way she flinched and clutched at her hip.
"Is that still bothering you?" she asked softly.
Monica nodded slightly but kept her eyes on the back of the video box.
"Honey, did you change the bandage? You have to take care of it."
The angel said nothing. She wasn't about to tell her that since that first horrible morning she had taken to undressing with her back to the mirror and slipping into her borrowed robe before she stepped back out of the shower.
"Okay," Alex didn't want to push the issue, "why don't I leave you to pick something out, and I'll go check on breakfast."
She slipped out of the room intent on doing much more than that. She had gotten up early to go outside to gather lilacs off one of the bushes, knowing how much Monica loved them. She smiled at Tess as she entered the kitchen, but her smile faded at she realized that though the older angel had placed all the ingredients for a full breakfast on the counter, she seemed to just be staring at them with a sad expression on her face.
"Tess?"
The older angel looked up and forced a smile, "Good morning, baby."
"What’s the matter?" Alex reached over and laid a hand on Tess’ arm as her eyes glimmered with concern.
She gave a little shrug, "I guess I’m just not sure of why I’m bothering, she isn’t going to eat any of it."
Alex could never remember another time when she had seen tears in the angel’s eyes and the sight of them now broke her heart, "Tess, you’re bothering because you love her and because you feel helpless to do anything else for her right now. We all feel that way."
"I’ve never seen that little Angel Girl so broken, Alex," She whispered, wiping at her eyes, "And Andrew and I have always been able to help her put the pieces back together, but this time…"
"This time is so much harder, Tess and it’s going to take time. The steps need to be small and at her speed," She moved to hug the angel quickly but tightly, "So, as we are starting out small, how about fixing her some toast and though I don’t know how it will make her stomach feel, maybe a little coffee as she loves it so much?"
As the agent pulled away, Tess smiled and nodded her head, "You’re right, baby. Maybe big and intimidating isn’t always the way to go," She chuckled, knowing that was usually the way she chose to go about most things as Alex laughed with her. It was a rare sound of late, to hear anyone laughing but they both welcomed the release. As Tess began putting away the eggs, bacon and sausage, she glanced over the woman and watched as she arranged lilacs in a large vase, "They’re Monica’s favorite."
"I know," Alex replied with a smile, before she picked up the vase and headed back down the hall. Setting the vase down on the hall table, she slipped into the bathroom, grabbing some gauze, tape and anti-biotic ointment, before she retrieved the flowers and walked back into the angel’s bedroom.
She noticed that Monica hadn’t chosen something to watch, but was still staring at the back cover of the same one she had been looking at before. Alex knew her thoughts were miles away, but she set the vase of flowers down on the nightstand, watching as Monica finally looked up and managed a tiny smile.
"They’re beautiful, Alex," She whispered, feeling the sting of tears in her eyes. They were all trying so hard to please her and make her feel better and she wished that they had no need to even try.
"I know how much you love them," She replied simply as she turned to her friend, her expression becoming more serious, "Monica, I’d like to take a look at that hip, if that would be all right." She watched sadly as the little angel tensed and looked at her fearfully, "I don’t want it getting any worse, honey, and it is obviously hurting you. Let me help."
Still struggling to hold back tears, Monica nodded her head numbly, moving stiffly to lie on her side as her fingers curled tightly around the blanket.
Alex eased up Monica’s nightgown and carefully removed the dressing that was on her hip, steeling herself against the anger she suddenly felt at the sight of the cut and the deep bruising around it. Her expert eyes swept over the wound. It was a clean cut and she had a feeling the bastard had held a knife on the angel, while the bruising indicated the fact that he had grabbed her there and she knew without doubt that there were matching bruises on Monica’s other hip. She pressed her lips together tightly, noticing how her friend was trembling slightly, and managed to swallow back her anger, in order to allow the cheerfulness back into her voice, "Andrew and Paul went into town for a bit. Men shopping, can you imagine?"
****
"These are a little stronger than I would have liked," Paul commented, glancing at the prescription he and Andrew had just picked up from the pharmacy. The doctor at the local hospital had been kind enough to call them in, but Paul now wished he had argued over at least the dosage. He put the bottle back in the bag as they continued to walk down the sidewalk in the direction of the car, "I’m sorry about last night. Everything was entirely my fault and I never should have said that to you. She just scared the hell out of me and I jumped in with my assumptions with both feet as usual," He grinned reproachfully, "I’m a little surprised I could get them out of my mouth that long."
Andrew smiled slightly, "It’s all right, Paul. My reaction wasn’t much better, but I don’t know what to expect from her anymore. One minute, I’m permitted to hold her and the next minute she can’t get far enough away from me, "He sighed softly and shook his head, "It isn’t her fault. She’s trying so hard…"
"Too hard if you ask me," The agent retorted, at times still unable to fathom what Monica had gone through, "I’m going to be sorely disappointed if this son of a bitch isn’t caught and even more so if I can’t assure him a slow and painful death."
Andrew had stopped walking and was staring into the window of one of the shops. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and lowered his eyes, "I need to know who he is, Paul. I don’t know why, but I do." He felt a wave of emotion wash over him, "It shouldn’t matter. All that should matter is that she recovers and I want that more than anything, but at the same time, knowing the bastard who did this is something I need to know."
Paul’s eyes widened slightly. He had never before heard the angel use the word "bastard" and it sounded slightly out of place, but then, he had been able to see the fury that Andrew was barely keeping in check. It was just below the surface and though he had seen the angel furious before at McArthur, at David, this felt incredibly different, "Why do I get the feeling that there is more to this than you are letting me in on, buddy?"
Andrew turned to look at his friend, wishing he knew exactly how to respond. His own feelings were completely confusing and he had been trying to simply keep them in the back of his mind, "It’s nothing."
"Don’t give me that shit, Andrew. I know you are pissed as hell at this man and so am I, but this has inspired something deeper in you, that much I can tell!"
Paul was looking at him with a demanding expression on his face, but Andrew simply shrugged his shoulders, "I don’t know why you would say that."
"Because she has been hurt before, and in ways that you can much better imagine. David beat the crap out of her and angel or no, you are a man, so you know the physical pain that caused her. But this…try as we might, we can’t completely relate to how terrible she feels and how much pain she has been caused. Yes, rape is a physical act, but it is also an emotional one. He took something from her that she was unable to stop and-"
"That’s right!" Andrew snapped suddenly, his brooding eyes moving to Paul’s face, "He took something precious in a violent way; in the cruelest of ways! She didn’t mean a damn thing to him, and neither did what he stole from her," He pointed a shaking finger at his own chest, "I love her more than anything…I love her and would never dream of taking it from her, but if I had, if I could, it would have been in a way that innocent and beautiful angel is deserving of! That’s what pisses me off, Paul! I’m so fucking angry I can’t even see straight!"
Paul rarely found himself speechless, but this was one of those times as his thoughts struggled to catch up to Andrew’s. The next words that came out of his mouth surprised them both, "You don’t just love her. You’re in love with her," His tone was incredulous and he shook his head slightly, still trying to get over the shock he was feeling.
Andrew's shoulders slumped as he turned his attention back to the window, "Angels don't feel that way, Paul, you know that. I've always treasured what she and I have together and it is more than enough, but now that son of a bitch has basically ripped her from me emotionally," He let out a breath he had been holding in forever, knowing he couldn't dwell here much longer, "I want to go in here" He nodded his head towards the woman's boutique he had been staring into. Alex's clothing was swallowing Monica, and the fleece track suits looked soft and more importantly, warm.
Chapter 5
When Andrew and Paul got back to the farm the angel had to make a second trip to the car to get all of the bags. He had bought the fleece outfit from the window, in pale blue with a grey band at the cuffs and waist. However, that had only been where his purchases began. He had also bought jeans, baggy but in her size, several soft shirts, and three comfortable cotton sweaters. Paul was almost laughing as he watched the angel carrying all the bags down to Monica’s room.
"Monica?" Andrew said her name quietly in case she was asleep, but as he nudged the door open he saw her sitting up in bed.
She was watching the television, an old black and white movie, although her eyes seemed to be seeing something beyond the screen. She looked up as soon as he entered and her eyes grew more alert as he started piling the bags on her bed.
"What’s all this?"
"I decided you could use a few things," he answered as he started pulling things out and handing them to her for her inspection. "Not that Alex’s clothes look bad on you, but these might fit a little better." He grinned but when he looked up she was crossing her arms self-consciously and he wondered when he would ever find a way to talk to her without causing her pain. "Anyway," he continued," slightly deflated, "I think I got all your favorite colors. You can tell me if you don’t like anything."
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and watched her pull the fleece shirt into her lap. "You didn’t have to do this."
"I wanted to do it."
He left her alone then, and when he came back she had changed into the fleece outfit. Her auburn hair tumbling softly over her shoulders along with the soft material made him want to just take her into his arms and never let her go, but he knew that was now forbidden. He couldn’t even tell her how beautiful she looked without fear of making her uncomfortable.
Alex’s suggestion to Tess about the food had worked like a charm. With less food in front of her it seemed much less daunting, and she was actually able to eat a half sandwich and soup for lunch without feeling completely sick afterwards. Dinner was slightly more difficult but she managed to eat most of it although the effort exhausted her.
When Paul visited her room near bedtime he had her pills in his hand, and he shot a still apologetic look at Andrew as he offered them to her. Paul and Andrew both looked at her in surprise when she shook her head and refused to take them.
"Monica, it’s all right. You need them," Paul said, moving his hand closer.
"I shouldn’t need them," she whispered lowly.
"But you do, and that is perfectly fine. I’m sorry about last night. I completely overreacted. Please… don’t suffer because of what I said."
The little angel looked up at him, and then over at Andrew, who was watching her with tender and loving eyes. She sucked in a breath and reached out to take the pills.
"It won’t be forever," Paul insisted, and she nodded jerkily as she finished swallowing them down.
As with the previous night, Andrew convinced her to let him stay, just until she fell asleep. Her eyes when she agreed were filled with sadness, but he could tell that it wasn’t because she didn’t want him there; it was because she was still ashamed that she couldn’t allow him to hold her. He couldn’t tell her how much it hurt him as well, but as her eyes drifted shut he allowed himself to gently squeeze her hand. His mind was suddenly drawn back to his earlier blow up with Paul, and as he stared at her still face he tried to put his feelings in order. She needed him so badly, and he wasn’t going to let anything, particularly his own emotions, get in the way of helping her.
*****
The rest of the week continued much along the same lines. Monica continued to stay in her room most of the time, and when she did venture out Andrew was sad to see that she insisted on having one of Alex’s baggy shirts over whatever else she happened to be wearing. She continued to let Andrew stay with her as she fell asleep, and when night terrors took hold of her she even let him hold her until she felt close to drifting off again.
Andrew was ashamed of the fact that he actually welcomed those times. They had become the only chance he had to feel her in his arms and try to convey to her just how much she meant to him. Over the course of the week he had had ample opportunity to watch her sleep and during those times his thoughts had always drifted to his feelings for her. Although he had promised himself that they wouldn’t interfere and he did his best to ignore them, the truth was that they refused to remain hidden.
Paul’s exclamation about him being in love had made him question everything. What had always been the closest and most loving relationship he had ever known was now cast in a new light and he was almost afraid to look at it too closely. When had his feelings changed? Had it been the first time he felt jealous of Paul? Had it been the fear of losing her after David had shot her and the sure knowledge that he would gladly have killed the man responsible? He wasn’t even sure what these new feelings entailed. He didn’t dare dwell on them for that long. He just knew that if he had loved her before, that feeling had increased ten-fold now.
He was thinking about all of those things as he made his way out of the kitchen carrying her lunch tray. She had been eating much more as the days progressed and it was one of the few things he was grateful for. He turned to walk down the hall to her room but stopped when he heard Alex and Paul arguing in the study. They both looked up and stopped talking the moment that he entered and he glanced from one to the other.
"Which one of you wants to tell me what’s going on?" he asked.
Alex crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared at Paul, one eyebrow raised in challenge. Paul accepted defeat and turned to face his friend.
"I just got off the phone with the authorities in Boston."
"They caught him? He’s in jail?"
Paul shook his head. "No. They haven’t even gotten the results back on the semen samples they took from Monica."
"What? It was a week ago! What are they waiting for?"
"There haven’t been any other reported rapes, Andrew," Alex tried to explain gently. "For them this is just… well… it’s just a random act of violence. Without anything else to go on they just don’t have the same sense of urgency that we do."
"What do you mean ‘sense of urgency’?" he exclaimed. "They have a rapist running around free and they don’t have a sense of urgency?"
"It’s not just that, Andrew. Monica never really talked to them. She didn’t give them a description or any of the details. If they had something more to go on, then they might be able to rush the labs, but as it stands, even if they get a match from the sex offenders registry they still won’t be able to prosecute."
The angel let out a breath and looked at them both bitterly. "So what are you saying? They’ll never catch him?"
"No," Alex said slowly, "we’re not saying that, but the longer it goes… She needs to talk to us. We need something more to give them." She took a deep breath of her own. "I’m going to try to talk to her after lunch."
"No." The word was a flat and firm refusal. He couldn’t imagine that Monica was ready to talk about what had happened.
"We all knew she was going to have to open up eventually, buddy."
And suddenly the fact that she might not be ready was almost overshadowed by the fact that Andrew couldn’t imagine any one else hearing about what had happened to her. He didn’t want even Alex to know. It was too intimate, too private, and too personal. He didn’t want anyone to hear it but him.
"If she has to tell someone then I’ll talk to her."
"Andrew…" Alex looked worried and Paul’s face hardened.
He knew exactly how much Monica meant to the angel and he knew that hearing the details of her rape wasn’t going to do either of them any good.
"She’ll talk to me," he insisted.
Alex forced down her own anxiety. "Are you sure this is something you’re ready for?"
"There’s nothing she can tell me that I haven’t already imagined," he said, but truthfully he wasn’t sure at all.
*****
"It’s beautiful outside, Monica, and I know that Scout would love to see you," Andrew coaxed. He had already decided that if he was going to get her to talk it was going to have to be outside. Her bedroom had to be feeling like a prison by now, and the fresh air would relax her.
She looked at him, her dark eyes filled with worry. "I don’t know…"
"You trust me don’t you?" he hated playing that card, but he knew she wouldn’t refuse.
"Of course I do," she said quietly.
"Then trust me to take care of you. We’ll have a nice little walk and a visit down there."
Monica pursed her lips for a moment but then nodded her head. "All right. I would like to see Scout… it’s been a long while."
"And I know he’ll be thrilled to see you," Andrew said with a grin.
The little angel slid off the bed and grabbed the plaid shirt that was slung over the back of the chair, hastily putting it on as she walked to the door.
"It’s very warm out," Andrew offered gently, but she gave a little shrug and looked away.
"I… I know… but I might get cold…"
He quickly sought to reassure her that whatever she was feeling was all right. "I suppose you might," he said and then took her hand in his as he led her down the hall.
He felt a tremor pass through her body as she first stepped outside, and for a second he reconsidered the wisdom of taking her out of her comfort zone, but then as they walked she seemed to relax. It lightened his heart to see her watching the birds swooping over the fields and turning her head to follow the scent of lilacs to their source. It was a definite change from the way she stared, unseeing, at the television in her room.
The reached the barn and Monica tentatively released Andrew’s hand from the deathgrip she had kept on it, and walked slowly to Scout’s stall.
"Hello, big boy," she said, a little smile emerging as he nuzzled her gently.
Andrew was content to stand back and watch them. So content that he regretted what he had to do, but it was necessary. They needed to catch this man, and he needed to know. After several minutes had passed and Monica had spent time with all of the horses, he finally placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and led her to the bales of hay that acted as seating. Monica seemed to sense what was coming and he felt her tense beneath his hand.
Andrew’s eyes met hers, knowing how hard this was going to be; both for her to say and for him to hear, "Angel, it’s time. I need for you to tell me about that night."
She shrank back immediately, frightened eyes looking up at him as she shook her head hard. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell him about the things he had said to her. The things he had done.
"I know it’s hard, Monica," Gently he reached for her hand, but she jerked it away, "But I’m not leaving till you do."
She was starting to tremble as she shook her head once more. What happened was in her heart and that is where she planned to keep it. She didn’t want to talk to anyone about it, least of all Andrew. His image of her had changed enough. How could she share something so filthy and humiliating in detail? "Why?" Her voice wavered as her dark eyes pleaded with him.
"I have to know, Monica. Paul needs to know so he can try to find him-."
"Then I’ll tell Paul!" Monica cried out before she had realized just how upset she was becoming, "But I’m not telling you! I can’t!"
"Why?" She had started to turn away and he grabbed her wrist to stop her, hating himself when she flinched, "Why can’t you tell me? You’ve always been able to tell me everything. What has changed?"
"I can’t tell you this! I don’t even understand why you want me to, Andrew," She tried to jerk away from his grasp, but he held fast, "Fine! If I have to tell someone because it is so important he be caught, then I’ll tell Paul!" His expression was stern and stubborn and she felt unwanted tears welling up in her eyes.
"I want to hear it from you," He felt like a complete bully, but he had to know what had transpired, what had taken her so far away from him, he wasn’t sure if he would ever get her back.
"Why?" She cried out once more, "Why would you want to know about this? It’s bad enough that I know it, that I lived it, but to share it with you? I can’t do that, Andrew. You’re asking something of me, I can’t do! Why is it so important?"
"Because I need to know what he did to you!"
"You know what he did to me!" Her voice had risen in volume and desperation and a sob escaped her throat, "Please, let me go!"
"I need to know what he said. I need to know if you knew who he was; if you were talking to him first! I need to know if you fought him! I need to know, Monica! God forgive me, I don’t want to know but it something I need!" He stopped, seeing a look of complete anguish on her face that he didn’t fully understand.
She was staring at him in disbelief and the hurt in her eyes was physical painful, "You don’t think I fought?" Her voice was but a whisper as she looked at him as if she didn’t even know him.
His heart was pounding in his throat. Had he said that? He knew it had been in the back of his mind, but he had never meant to verbalize it. He suddenly felt like a lower piece of life than the man who had hurt her, "I don’t know, Monica. You haven’t told me anything."
All the pain and shame boiled down to this moment in time, "What exactly do you think of me?" The tears were now flowing freely down her face, "Do you think I would just lie there and take it? Is that what you think?"
"No, angel, no," He was the one pleading now as he silently cursed himself, "I didn’t mean it like that-."
"You did or you never would have said it!" She hurled the words at him as she finally wretched her hand away from him, "You want to know what happened? You want all the grizzly details so that you can assure yourself I did all I could and that it wasn’t really my fault? Fine! What is it you want to hear exactly, Andrew? You want to hear about how he grabbed me out of nowhere and dragged me into some dark corner where he threw me down on the ground? I tried to get away from him, I tried to scream, but the knife he was holding to my throat kept me from doing that! Is that what you want to know?" Her feeling that he had just betrayed her fueled her anger; at him, at the man who had done this, at herself, and the words would suddenly not be silenced, "You want to know about the things he called me? Bitch, cunt, slut, pick one! He used them all! I tried again to get away from him and that was when he hit me so hard, I couldn’t even see for a moment…and then…then his hands were all over me…"
Tears were welling up in Andrew’s eyes as she faltered and angry sobs escaped her. This wasn’t what he had wanted, for either of them. When he had imagined her finally releasing what she held in her heart, he had wanted her safely tucked into his arms. He had wanted her to feel secure and instead she was feeling betrayed. This man had raped her body, but he was the one who had just raped her heart, "Angel, please…don’t do this…"
Her head shot back up as she struggled to speak through the sobs that were overtaking her small frame, "No! You wanted to know, so what other details do you want? Would you like me to tell you how he then used the knife and brought it to my chest? I thought he was going to plunge it into my heart and I wish with everything in me that he had! It would have been better than what happened after that! He cut my clothes away from me and he kept grabbing at me! It hurt…it hurt so badly and everything in me was screaming, but there was no one to hear it! I was begging him to stop, but then he told me he wanted me to beg for it!"
He looked away, feeling a tear escape his eye and it was all he could do to keep listening to her words. She was tearing at his heart as she had never done before and hers was broken and he was the bastard who had done it.
"Then his hand was much lower and his fingers were inside of me and I kicked him as hard as I could! He brought the knife to my face, like he was going to cut me…he had hold of my chin so tightly I thought he would break it and he told me I had asked for this because I was out on the streets in the middle of the night. I wasn’t looking to be raped, Andrew, I was looking for you!" She was screaming now, the visions in her mind emerging from her lips and she was unable to stop them even if she wanted to. But she didn’t want to. She wanted him to know that she wasn’t what he had thought. Monica closed her eyes, her throat so tight she didn’t think she would be able to continue, but somehow she forced the words from her mouth, "Then he was inside of me…the pain was unbearable and all I wanted was you…I wanted you to find me and stop this from happening. I wanted you to hold me and tell me I had imagined it, or that you could take it all away, but you never came. It felt like it was lasting forever…like it was never going to end and I felt so ashamed. Then it was over and I could feel what he had left behind inside of me and I wanted to die. Right there in that alley, I wanted to die. I didn’t want to face you or Tess ever again," She looked up at him, seeing the tears in his eyes and the trail they had made down his face. She saw the way his jaw clenched as he tried to hold back more and another sob escaped her. She was no longer yelling at him, but the hurt was still vividly present, "Then you know what he did, Andrew? He thanked me, like I had given him a gift, when instead he ripped it from me and with it everything that has ever been important to me," Her swollen eyes continued to meet with his, "So if you want to know if I fought, the answer is yes…I fought harder than I have ever fought in my existence, though I can’t believe you would expect anything but that from me."
He watched as she covered her face with her hands and began to cry openly. He didn’t even deserve to have her in his existence. He would never forgive himself for the last ten minutes, of that much he was certain, "Angel," His voice was hoarse as he struggled to talk to her through the emotion he was feeling, "I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to apologize, I just-." He approached her and laid a hand on her shoulder, and felt sick when she slapped it away.
"Just go…just go, Andrew. You have what you wanted…"
Her words were like a knife through his heart. He didn’t have to worry about forgiving himself because he never deserved to have her forgive him. He quickly left the barn, almost running back up the path. She didn’t want him with her but she couldn’t be left alone for long.
"What happened? Where is she?" Paul was distressed when he saw Andrew burst into the kitchen. He hadn’t liked the idea of the angel trying to talk to her and now it looked like he had been right.
"I fucked it all up, that’s what happened," Andrew was almost yelling, at himself more than anyone else.
Paul stood up and grabbed Andrew by the shoulders. His eyes were hard and for the first time they held anger directed at his angelic friend.
"I asked you, where she was!"
"I left her out in the barn… she told me to leave and after what… I couldn’t stay… I couldn’t hurt her anymore."
"You left her down there alone?"
"Paul, calm down," Alex laid a gentle hand on her husband’s arm.
"Alex, I want to know what happened! What happened that made her throw you out?"
Andrew shook his head. Now he knew why Monica hadn’t wanted to tell him what had happened. Sometimes memories were simply too painful to relate.
"Did she at least give you a description of the guy?" Paul was starting to calm down as Alex rhythmically squeezed his forearm, but he was still visibly upset.
"No… she… she didn’t tell me that…" Andrew felt the pain in his soul drive even deeper. He had told them he could talk to her. He had insisted on it. And now he hadn’t even brought back the one piece of information they needed.
"I’m going to go get her," Paul announced as he started towards the door.
"Paul… no." Alex said firmly, meeting his angry eyes with her sad ones. "Let me go. She’s not going to want to see you."
Paul sucked in a breath and clenched his fists at his sides. Alex was right. Whatever her mindset was it was evident that she had just relived her worst nightmare. The last thing she was going to want was to see another man. Alex left the house, not sure whether to be more afraid of the conversation she was about to have or the conversation she was leaving.
*****
"What did you say to her, Andrew?" Paul asked, trying to calm himself down as he sat down across the table from the angel. Andrew was just about his best friend, and whatever had occurred between the two angels, it was obvious that Andrew was beating himself up enough. He didn’t need any help.
"I don’t even know. I started out just pushing her to tell me what happened. I figured if she was going to tell anyone, it would be me." His eyes sought Paul’s needing him to believe. "We’ve never kept anything from each other."
Paul could see the depth of Andrew’s pain carved into the worried lines on his face. His own anger was quickly subsiding to be replaced with sympathy. "Buddy… this wasn’t just anything you were asking her to tell you."
"I know that… I know… but I kept pushing her… I don’t even know why… I just had to know… I had to hear from her lips…" he looked at Paul desperately and the agent’s mouth was set in a grim line as he nodded. It was horrible, but he had a feeling that if the same thing had happened to Alex, he would have the same urgent need. "Somehow… I just started talking and I told her that I needed to know how hard she’d fought, and the look in her eyes when I said that…"
"Andrew…"
"I know! Don’t you think I know? I didn’t mean to question her, I swear! But she just started telling me everything… she was so frantic… it was like it was happening to her all over again, and I was the one putting her through it…" His shoulders slumped in complete defeat. "I don’t think she’ll ever look at me again, and I can’t say that I blame her…"
Paul didn’t say anything. A quick denial would only have sounded forced and placating. He took a few breaths, watching as Andrew ran shaking fingers through his hair and looked up at the ceiling as if expecting the answers to come from above.
"In her heart she knows you didn’t mean what you said," Paul said at last.
"Yeah, well that doesn’t really matter, does it? I said it and she can’t forget it, and I just put her through hell all over again. I put her through hell because I needed to know." He spat the words out, disgusted with himself. "I love her so damn much, Paul… I do… I love her… and now… now she isn’t even going to want to be in the same house with me."
Paul was quiet for a moment, trying to think of what to do or say that could make this any better but he knew he had to think of something, "She needs time…and so do you. Now that the wound has been reopened, not that it was ever closed, Alex will get a description of this guy," He looked into his friend’s eyes, his expression grim but not allowing for any argument, "Then you, Alex and I are going to Boston and we’re going to find this son of a bitch and make him wish he had never laid eyes on Monica."
"Paul, I can’t leave her now," Andrew was shaking his head in protest, but Paul was not going to have any part of it.
"That is exactly what you are going to do. She is right now back to square one, based on what you are telling me, only now you’ve hurt her as well. Though you didn’t mean to, she needs time to sort this out and you’re going to give her that," He saw the angel nod his head sadly, "We’ll leave tonight."
Andrew lowered his face to his hands, hardly able to imagine leaving her. She was so fragile right now, barely a shadow of who she had once been. He only hoped she would allow him to say good-bye, because he wasn’t sure he would be able to walk out the door unless he could.
******
Alex ran down the hill to the stable, her heart pounding in her throat. She had no idea of what had just transpired between the two angels, but judging by Andrew’s reaction, she was expecting Monica to be even worse and she was not disappointed.
The little angel was slumped on the floor up against Scout’s stall with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her arms were wrapped around them as she cried, trembling, into them. It was a heartbreaking vision and one Alex would not soon forget.
"Monica?" She spoke softly as she approached her and sat down next to her. She wasn’t expecting to get much out of her, so she was surprised when the angel was choking out words almost immediately.
"He thought… he thought I didn’t fight him…how? How could he think that, Alex? How?"
The look on her friend’s face as she looked up at her caused Alex’s heart to clench as she gently wrapped her arm around the angel’s shoulders and pulled her close, "Oh honey, I don’t think-."
"I fought him so hard…I couldn’t even move for days without it hurting…how could he think I had done anything else?"
The agent was quiet for a moment, running her hand over Monica’s arm soothingly, "He’s so confused right now, Monica and looking for answers as to why this happened to you. He’s looking for a way to turn back time and be able for one thing to be different to change the outcome, and that just isn’t going to happen, but it doesn’t make Andrew want it any less. He loves you so, honey, with everything in him and what has broken your heart has also broken his. If this horrible thing had happened to me, I know Paul would have questions in just trying to find out how it could have turned out differently," She was trying desperately to make this better for the two angels, but she wasn’t sure how much Monica was hearing, "He feels powerless to help, Monica and felt powerless to know what happened to you, so he’s been trying to put the puzzle together himself."
"He was helping me until now! Until I found out what he really thinks of me-."
"No," Alex stated firmly, catching the angel’s chin in her hand, "What he thinks where you are concerned is how damn important you are to him and how much he loves you. What happened to you doesn’t change that, not one tiny bit, unless it is to say he loves you even more. I refuse to let you doubt that, Monica. Andrew is the only one on the planet that Paul trusts with you and that speaks volumes. Yes, he hurt you today, and he knows that and hates himself for it, but what he said has nothing to do with what he thinks of you. He wanted to know what happened because of how he feels about you and because he didn’t want you carrying it around alone. There is no burden he would not share with you, honey. Not a one and if it were possible he would carry it for you."
Though Monica didn’t comment on her words, Alex knew she was thinking about them and she considered that a considerable victory. Now she just needed one more.
Rising to her feet, she walked over to the old wooden workbench to retrieve the sketch pad and pencil she kept there to draw for pleasure when time allowed and she thumbed through the sketches of the horses until she came to a blank page. Returning to Monica’s side, she sat back down and looked at her sadly, "I know this is a terrible time to ask, but if you just told Andrew what happened, then the memories are still very fresh in your mind. I need to know what this bastard looks like, honey, so we can stop him from hurting anyone else."
Monica lowered her head as she wiped at her eyes. It was the one thing left to tell and then no one could ask anything more from her. Closing her eyes, she shuddered as his face came immediately before her and in a quiet whisper, she told Alex every detail.
Alex drew rapidly albeit carefully, not wanting to make it a long drawn our process. Monica was hurting enough without having to do this and Alex was just thankful she was willing. When the angel’s words ceased, she drew for a few more minutes and then looked at Monica regretfully, "I’m sorry, but I have to ask," She turned the sketchpad to face her, "Is this him?"
