… solipsubmissive …

This is a continuation.  You might wish to follow this link to the beginning:  soiled, Part 1  

He knelt, retied the laces on one of his running shoes, then stood and stretched.  Although it was the middle of the night, he’d had to get out of the house, needed to burn some energy.  Running seemed like the best solution, at least temporarily. 

The house had seemed unusually empty since the night he’d had the dream.  The spaciousness taunted him, echoed back each footstep as he paced, if only in his mind.  And, every time he closed his eyes, he saw the face he’d seen in his dream, felt, as though it were tangible, the wrist he had gripped.

When he opened them, he realized that, just like that night, he was still alone. 

***

“It’s about guidance, Chloe, and, to a small degree, protection.”

She nodded, listening intently as Michael patiently explained her role in the attempted salvation of her charge.  The Archangel had taken an unprecedented interest in her, of late.  It seemed to her, during the morning squadron meetings where they reported the previous day’s results and received daily general instruction, that he paid particular attention to her reports.  His questions were so detailed, so probing, that some of the other Guardian Angels had begun sending curious looks in her direction.  Calliope just smirked at her knowingly, as if to say I told you so.

It all made Chloe very nervous.  She wondered if Michael had discovered her two incidents of undeclared physical contact, thought guiltily of the fading bruise on her wrist.  She’d kept it hidden, but only partially because of the trouble in which she would find herself.  The other part of the reason was personal.

She treasured the small mark and the memory of how she’d received it.

For now, she kept that wrist carefully hidden in the diaphanous folds of her garment as she walked along beside Michael to her post.  So far, she’d only been allowed observation and discussion.  When she’d asked how long it would be before she could begin guarding her charge, Michael had been vague, mumbling something about developing layers of protective cynicism.

She stepped to the edge of the observation cloud and peeked down, wondering why she only ever seemed to find him at night.  This time, he was jogging, an iPod strapped to his arm, eating up the ground in long, beautiful strides.  She looked up at Michael to ask a question, but the words died on her lips, for the expression on his face was harsh, hard, and distant.

She couldn’t know what he knew, had no idea that he had protected her as long as he was able.  He’d put off Initial Contact with her charge until now.  Today, the order had come from above and he could delay no longer.  Like it or not, Chloe was going on active duty.

She cleared her throat, spoke softly.  “Michael?”

The stern lines of his face softened.  “Yes, Chloe?”

“Are you angry with me?”

He hadn’t realized his worries were so plain.  “No, child.  In fact, I have news for you.  Today is the day you’ll make Initial Contact.”

Chloe made a small sound, little more than a squeak.  Michael wasn’t sure if it was joy or fear.  And really, it didn’t matter.  He had only a few reminders to give her, then she was on her own for the day.  “As I was saying, it is about guidance.  You don’t make decisions for him, you try to guide him to the best decision, preferably without him knowing you’re offering guidance.  The best way is always to leave him thinking he’s arrived at a decision on his own.”

She frowned and looked down, scuffed her toe through the swirling mist.  “That seems manipulative.”  Manipulation didn’t sit well with her, smacked of dishonesty.  Michael almost sighed.  Too naive by half, this angel.  He felt almost as though he was sending her to certain death.  Or, at the very least, he thought wryly, uncertain life.

“Try, Chloe, to think of it as guidance instead of manipulation.  The goal is not to remain on some perceived angelic moral high ground.  The goal is to salvage what’s left of your charge’s soul.”  He gave her a hard look.  “And I’m here to tell you, Chloe — there’s not much left to save.  You have your work cut out for you.”

She looked up swiftly, indignant.  “You’re so wrong!  He has a beautiful soul.  I’ve been watching him for days now.  You’ve seen my notes.  He has kindness of which even he isn’t aware.  You’ll see.”

“I hope so.”  Michael looked dubious, then shook it off.  “All right.  Finally.  Protection.  You have the power to protect your charge, but you must use it wisely.  Protection takes a great deal of energy, which is a precious commodity once you’ve left Heaven.  Your time on Earth is finite, and you must conserve enough energy to get back at the end of each period, to rest and recharge.”

Chloe tilted her head quizzically.  “But we learned that already, in school.  Normal guardian duties shouldn’t even come close to zapping energy stores in a healthy Guardian Angel.”

Michael paused a moment, looked down at the man still running through the night, then turned back to Chloe.  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, child.”  He ran a hand over her soft, dark curls, then grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face up to his.  “Daños,” he said, “falls outside the realm of normal guardian duties.  So please — be careful.”

Chloe bit her lip and nodded, trying not to think about the consequences of squandering her energy so that she couldn’t return home.  Michael, however, had no intention of allowing her the luxury of denial.

“Remember, if you cannot make it back home –”

“– I’ll become human,” Chloe finished in a whisper.  And, to her credit, her voice only quivered a little.

Part 4