Helen | By : FemmeBono Category: Supernatural > Het - Male/Female Views: 1628 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor its characters, and I make no money from this. |
Cht. 3
Isabella Talbot's number was no longer in service. Helen knew what it meant and silently mourned the loss of a very old friend, chiding herself for not keeping in better contact. Bella had been dealt a bad hand by life, and rebounded by fighting back in the most unconventional way. Just once she had gotten drunk enough to tell Helen what she had done, though at the time Helen could scarcely believe what she heard. Now Bella was gone, and that ten-year respite Bella had from her father was now being paid for in Hell. Helen closed her eyes and said a quick prayer to whatever deity could aid her friend, that they would know the hell Bella had lived through in childhood and take mercy on her in the hereafter. She wished she could just ask Gabriel what a carrier was, but it had been weeks since he had dropped this bombshell in her lap and winged away to leave her stewing about it. Tapping the phone against her chin, she briefly considered calling Bobby Singer, then thought against it. She doubted the Winchesters and possibly Bobby himself would look too favorably on what she had done in bringing back the archangels. She knew they would not understand the failsafe she had included in their resurrection; it was, however, vital that the angels have some connection to their vessels' lives, to ensure that their motivations stayed true. No point in bringing back angels, who would turn around and kill us all, she mused. Yet it presented a problem. She needed information from someone who was good with antiquities, especially ancient literature, and most especially Enochian scriptures and angelic treatises. Like lightening it struck her who the perfect source was, and she rapped her forehead lightly with the phone before clicking over to her contacts list. Abijah Raz, a professor of Hebrew literature and a very old family friend would most likely tell her exactly what she needed. And if not, he knew where and how to find out. She waited as the line began ringing, intently hoping that he was not out on sabbatical. Helen released the breath she was holding when it a familiar voice answered within a couple of rings. "Yes?" "Joshua, oh thank God," Helen sighed, even as Joshua's chuckle sounded over the line. "Please tell me Dr. Raz is in." "No, dear child, I am afraid he is not, but he does check in from time to time." Helen groaned. "I really need to talk to him right now. Do you know--" "I know everything," he cut in. "Your father already called with the same question. You are now learning exactly what you are, and what you are is a blessing." "Okay, it's great that this is a good thing. But what exactly is a c--" she trailed off as static crackled through the line, gaining intensity until the connection was impossible. "Hello? Joshua?" She looked at her phone as the books and mementoes on her shelves and desk began to tumble. The ground shook so mightily under her feet that she was rocked into the desk as she tried to stand and make her way to the doorway. What is going on? We never get earthquakes here, she thought frantically. No sooner had she thought this, then a high ringing began increasing in pitch until she clutched her ears and dropped to her knees. Then, as suddenly as everything began, it stopped and an eerie quiet took its place. Helen looked around at the disorder of what was once her home office and there, standing in the midst of it all, was a tall bald-headed man in a suit. "You can take your hands down now," he said looking distinctly self-satisfied. "Who are you," she questioned reservedly. "My name is Zachariah," said the smug being. "I am an angel of Lord, and I've come to thank you for resurrecting my boss." She looked at him blankly. "Raphael," he finished. "I--okay," she stammered, not expecting any sort of gratitude from a team of angels. "In fact," he continued as if she hadn't spoken, stepping forward until they were merely a hairsbreadth away. "I would love to show you exactly how thankful I am." "Actually if you could just tell me what I'm supposed to be, that would suffice," she said, standing her ground as he towered over her. "What you are?" he said nonplussed. "What you are, dear girl, is a divine miracle on earth. A carrier...a human carrier for nephilim." The word rang a bell somewhere in the recesses of her brain, but more immediately troubling was the sense she was getting from this heavenly host. She did not like the slick feeling in her gut that she was picking up from his almost leering countenance. Sure enough, he lifted his fingers and traced the tips of them across her collarbone. "I don't know what that is," she hedged, taking a step back. She started sorting through her head for banishing magic--all of which would require blood and a sigil, and none of which could she do once he got ahold of her. Could she run? "A nephilim is the fruit of a union between an angel and a human," he said closing, the distance again. "It is a being stronger and more superior to both--a fearsome warrior. And a carrier is the only way an angel can procreate--and they are all too few and far between." Helen's hands fisted at her sides, full prepared to fight with the surge of adrenaline coursing through her body. She shifted her stance to buffet the imminent attack, but as soon as she did the ground shifted under her feet, the world seemed to spiral around her and blur, and the next thing she knew, she was somewhere else entirely. Zachariah stood aghast as she disappeared right before his eyes. "Wha--how did she do that?" He knew she was a human sorceress, but he had blocked her powers before she could even begin to build energy. His eyes narrowed, knowing exactly how she must have avoided him, but the question was, who pulled her away? He set off intending to find out. **** Rocked nearly to her knees for the second time in fifteen minutes, Helen's stomach pitched and rolled as she clung to the edge of a doorway. The door itself was long since gone, and giving into the dizzy feeling finally, Helen sank to the grassy ground on which the ruins stood. She looked blearily up at her rescuer, his layered locks waving a bit in the brisk wind. "Are we--" she began. "Glastonbury Abbey," he smiled. "I thought you would appreciate the idea of sanctuary. Besides, you said your family came from these parts." "Are you going to try to get me pregnant too?" she asked warily. "Mmmaybe," he smirked. She raised a very unamused brow before he continued. "I think you're safe for now." With that, he squatted down beside her, dropped a knee, and placed the back of his hand against her cheek. "How ya feeling, kid?" She closed her eyes for only a second before replying. "I think the world's right side up again. Thanks for coming to the rescue, again." She looked up to his smiling face, then realized how close they were. "Um…so, where do I go from here?" "I think I know where you'll be safe," he answered, then rose and offered his hand. "My lady, your chariot awaits." Helen stifled a snort, then realized what his intentions were. "Oh no, seriously. Again??" "Well, I'd put you on a plane but we left your wallet." "Okay, smart guy, but if I puke it'll be on you." "And on that note…," he trailed off. Then her world went spinning again, but this time strong arms wrapped around her midsection, anchoring her to him. When the world righted itself, she was still a little light-headed, but not quite for the same reason. "Now you should be safest here from all those other flying monkeys," he said, his breath right next to her ear while he still held her. Helen half turned her face to look back at him, but at that moment he let go and took a step back. Looking forward once more, Helen found herself staring at a small wood frame house surrounded by a yard full of old jalopies. An old sign off to her right read, "Singer's Salvage Yard." "Bobby Singer?" she queried. "You brought me to hunters. Which reminds me, how is the fight against the Leviathans going?" When he didn't reply, she turned to find him gone. And with a sigh, she stepped up to the front door and rang the bell. Bobby had invited her family out anytime, she thought. Apparently now was the time.While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. 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