CHAPTER 6

By the time they began packing up their things, Monica could feel that her muscles had already started to tighten up. She bit her lip to keep from releasing a little cry of pain. Unfortunately both Paul and Andrew saw her flinch and dropped what they were doing to move to her side.

"That's it," Paul declared, "I'm going to go get the tractor."

Monica tried putting on her best pout, but he just narrowed his eyes at her and crossed his arms across his chest. She gave up with a dejected sigh.

"Ok, you win," she finally relented.

Paul gave a quick nod. "That's more like it." Scout had stayed very close to Monica while they ate, and now Paul grabbed hold of his reins and swung himself into the saddle. "You sit tight," he said as he pointed at the Irish angel. "And you," he pointed at Andrew, "make sure she sits tight."

Monica's pout returned as Andrew laughed. Paul just smirked at the two of them before swinging Scout around and spurring him on across the fields. That left Andrew to turn to his best friend, unaccountably pleased to be able to spend just a few unguarded minutes with her.

"You should have said something earlier, angel," he said as he gently took hold of her hand.

"Really, Andrew, it wasn't that bad when I was just sitting. I'm sure I could have ridden back to the house without a problem," she insisted.

He looked down at her and stared into her dark eyes until she finally broke his gaze. "Ok," she admitted, "I'm a wee bit sore."

Giving her hand a little squeeze he tried to transfer some of his strength to her. "I'm sorry, Monica… I wish I could say it'll feel better tomorrow, but I'm afraid Paul's right about you being even more sore after lying in one place all night." He glanced down at her and saw that this time the pathetic look on her face was not an act. "I don't suppose that a hug would help?" he asked, eyebrows raised in question.

She hastily nodded her head and he had his arms around her an instant later.

"It's ok, sweetie," he murmured, into her auburn hair, a little surprised by the way her shoulders trembled and by how tightly she held on to him.

"It was such a stupid accident," she whispered against his chest. "So stupid. Why do these things keep happening to me?"

"Shhh… You're right. It was an accident, and accidents happen. It had nothing to do with you. None of this is happening because of something you did. Do you hear me?"

He felt her nodding her head and held her just a fraction tighter, afraid to hurt her, but needing her to know how much he loved her at that moment.

The remainder of the day past quietly once they had returned to the farmhouse and Monica found herself moving slower and slower as her muscles reacted to the fall earlier in the day. She elected to stay in one place as much as possible so as not to raise any fuss from Andrew or Paul as she wanted as little attention focused on herself as possible. Along with the aches and pains, came a bit of bad mood that hung over her head like a dark cloud and she felt more content to just be alone with her thoughts for the moment.

Seeking her out, Andrew walked quietly into the living room, seeing her lying down on the couch, her large brown eyes staring listlessly out the window, "Angel?"

She smiled slightly in his direction as she slowly curled up her legs in order to give him room to sit down, which he did.

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly, laying a hand on her calve.

"I’m okay, Andrew, really. Just a little tired is all," Monica replied, turning her eyes back to the window.

Trying not to feel frustrated, he remained silent until she had looked over at him once more, "Want to let me in on what is really going on with you?"

The little angel sighed softly, knowing that there was very little, if anything she could hide from him, "This is just harder than I thought it would be, Andrew. It’s hard to do absolutely nothing, to not be helping anyone, to not be doing the Father’s work, but yet having to watch every single step I take lest someone is sneaking up behind me. I can’t really call this a vacation as those are not generally this stressful." A small smile played on her lips for a brief moment, before vanishing.

He appeared thoughtful for a moment, before speaking, "You never know, sweetie, there could be an assignment here yet. Not that I know anything for certain, but God does move in mysterious ways, as we both well know."

"I know," She replied, her expression pensive, "But right now, I feel like I’ve caused nothing but trouble between nightmares and falling off horses, not to mention other things, and…I don’t know, I suppose I feel a wee bit frustrated is all."

"Which is to be expected, angel. You’re expecting an awful lot of yourself here lately, this afternoon being a perfect example. You were hurting but not wanting to admit it, but you weren’t hiding it from anyone you know. Least of all, me." He shot her a knowing look and watched as a sheepish smile graced her face.

"I know. I’m just not used to anyone making so big of a fuss over me and I don’t always find it comfortable. It’s different when it is you, as I know you’re going to fuss over me regardless," Her grin widened as she observed a slight blush rising to his face, "But Paul wouldn’t even be here were it not for me."

"Paul has a job to do and I hardly think he is finding it unpleasant," Andrew stated quickly; almost too quickly as he wondered where that had come from and he struggled to make his words sound better than they did at the moment, "I think as far as work goes, he enjoys your company, so I don’t think he is finding this all too terribly taxing."

He didn’t miss the puzzled look that crossed his friend’s face, as he realized his statement were still lacking his usual tact and he rose to his feet, "So just think about that, okay? Neither Paul nor I mind being here. You know that I want to be here and if I were anywhere else, knowing the situation you were in, it would drive me crazy," Seeing her smile slightly once more, though her dark eyes still held a hint of wonderment, he quickly changed the subject, "I’m going to make a pot of coffee. Would you like a cup?"

"Always." Monica replied with a small laugh as she grinned up at him.

"Yeah, I know, silly question," He shot back, before leaving the room and leaving the little angel to wonder what had just happened.

*****

Monica tossed and turned that night, not so much out of lack of being tired, but more out of apprehension about falling asleep and having another nightmare and there was no way she wanted a repeat of last night. She would rather lie here all night then to have to deal with Paul and Andrew’s concerned faces peering at her as she prayed for the floor to open up and swallow her.

Finally giving up, she climbed out of bed, trying to ignore the protests her body was giving to her and donned her robe, before padding softly to the kitchen and turning on the light to make another pot of coffee. Rubbing her eyes sleepily, she leaned up against the counter as she waited for the coffee maker to work its magic.

She carried her mug into the living room, hoping to find something on the bookshelves that would be distracting enough to keep herself awake. There were plenty of books, but in her current state of mind nothing was able to hold her interest for more than a page and she wound up on the sofa, surrounded by discarded novels.

Staring into her coffee she prayed that it would be enough to keep her awake. She tucked her feet up, feeling her muscles protest at the action, and grabbed one of the books, determined to give it one more try. It was actually a children’s book, "Swiss Family Robinson", and she wondered, idly, if it had once belonged to Paul. She didn’t have time to ponder it for long, however, because within two pages her eyes had slid closed. The book slipped from her hand and landed with a soft thud on the carpet, while her coffee mug remained clenched in her other hand and balanced precariously on the arm of the sofa.

The sound was hardly more than the usual house settling noise, but it was out of place enough to rouse Paul from his light sleep. Quickly grabbing his ever-present gun from his nightstand he made his way to his door. He opened it as quietly as possible and looked out into the hall, noticing immediately that Monica’s door was ajar.

He prayed that she hadn’t decided to go on another unscheduled outing, but as soon as he saw the rumpled sheets his heart dropped. Deciding not to alert his partner just yet, he moved down the hall to the kitchen. The dim florescent light over the counter was buzzing away, and he sighed with relief when he saw the half empty coffee pot.

Moving on to the living room he felt the tension drain from his body in a rush. There was his assignment, passed out from exhaustion and barely sitting upright. He knew that he should just wake her up and escort her back to her room, but for some reason the thought of waking her felt wrong.

Her face seemed even paler than after her fall, and the dark circles that were beginning to form under her eyes stood in stark contrast to her skin. Every so often her eyelids would twitch in sleep and her expression would tighten. It was something he had seen before, but this time it struck him much harder than usual.

He carefully pried the mug from her fingers and set it on the side table. Then, after tucking his gun into the waistband of his sweatpants, he swiftly lifted the little angel into his arms. He held his breath, hoping that she wouldn’t awaken, but she only muttered something he couldn’t quite make out, and allowed her head to rest against his shoulder.

Paul was almost back to her room when he heard a door opening and looked around to see his partner standing in the hall, peering at him through slightly bleary eyes. He couldn’t see how rapidly those green eyes sprang open upon seeing Monica cradled in another person’s arms.

"She’s ok," Paul whispered. "Just fell asleep in the living room. You can head back to bed. I’ve got it."

Andrew struggled to keep his mixed emotions intact as he watched Paul carry the little angel into her bedroom, before he went back into his room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He felt more than slightly unsettled once again and he waited until he heard Paul return to bed, before he stood back up and quietly walked out into the hallway.

Entering the living room, he noticed the plethora of books that were scattered on the sofa cushions, as well as a half cup of coffee on the table, and for the sudden need for something to occupy himself with, he collected the book and placed them back on the shelf. He noted the various titles as he slid them back into place, before he picked one more up off of the floor. Smiling slightly at the children’s book his best friend must have attempted last, he held it in his hands for a moment before also returning it to its proper place.

It didn’t take him long to put two and two together and know that it wasn’t lack of sleep that had kept his friend awake, but more of a reluctance to allow herself sleep, which the coffee indicated. Andrew instantly knew that she was afraid of dreaming; perhaps due to the content of the dreams themselves or else due to the fact that she didn’t want to wake up screaming once again, and it saddened his heart that the weary little angel had been trying to fight off her exhaustion, determined not to be anymore trouble. Not that she had been; her perception of herself and her actions at the moment were so far from the truth that he wondered if they were indeed coming from the same angel who spoke the truth to assignments on a regular basis. But he also knew that this whole situation was unfamiliar territory to her, suddenly finding herself the assignment, and she was obviously struggling with her new role.

Turning out the living room light, Andrew headed out to the kitchen and noticed that the coffee maker was still on, so he poured himself a cup and took a seat at the table, his thoughts in turmoil. He was desperately trying to avoid his own issues in all of this, primarily Paul.

Jealousy was not an emotion he was all that familiar with and he knew now, beyond the shadow of a doubt that was what he was dealing with. Not that he blamed Paul for any of his actions. If one little Irish angel could evoke such strong feelings of protection from another angel, certainly those same emotions could come to the surface with a human. Those big brown eyes, the delicate features of her face and that winning smile alone warmed his heart on a daily basis, so it was not too hard to understand how those things could influence Paul as well into wanting to take care of her.

But the blond angel couldn’t deny the fact that he just didn’t like it. No words could describe the feeling he had upon seeing Monica in Paul’s arms.

Taking care of her was a responsibility he had taken upon himself long ago and it was one that brought him great joy. He loved the fact that she would seek him out, both when she was hurting and when she had some bit of news or a story she wanted to share. He loved being the one she came to, more often than not, and in return, she was always there for him as well. They were both fiercely protective of each other, but Monica was the one who most often found herself in some kind of trouble that her gentle and caring heart had stumbled onto, even if it was as simple as bringing a newspaper to a finished assignment.

Sighing softly, Andrew finished his coffee and moved to turn off the coffee pot, before placing his mug into the sink. Switching off the kitchen light, he headed back down the hall to his room, but hesitated outside of Monica’s closed door.

Opening the door quietly, he entered the room and walked over to her bed, only wanting to make sure she was sleeping soundly. Her fatigued face was pensive, even in sleep, and reaching down he gently ran the backs of his fingers along her cheek, smiling tenderly when her expression relaxed at the touch. He knew how she dreaded the darkness, as it was, and he was certain that now, faced with her current situation, the blackness could feel as if it were closing in on her.

Sitting down in the chair next to her bed, Andrew’s eyes never left her face in the dark hours before the dawn, deciding that if another nightmare occurred, he would be the one to chase it away.

*****

Andrew didn’t leave her side until the first rays of light began appearing over the horizon, ushering in a new day. He had dozed off and on, but he was still exhausted. He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up, stretching his long legs. Very quietly he crept from her room and headed back to his own, thinking that she would be alright now that morning had arrived. He fell into his bed and rolled over, guessing that he had about two hours to sleep before Paul and Monica woke.

His estimate was slightly off, as Monica’s dark eyes fluttered open just a few minutes after he left her room. She looked around, slightly confused, and tried to remember going back to bed, but her last memory was of taking a sip of coffee and turning a page in "The Swiss Family Robinson". Sitting up in bed, and ignoring her protesting muscles, she twisted around until she was facing the wall that separated her room from Andrew’s. One hand moved to touch the wall as she whispered his name.

He must have carried her back to bed, she thought, and his presence was what she felt still lingering in the air. She looked at the chair next to her bed and reached out to touch it as well, knowing that he must have sat there watching her. Just having him near had kept her from having any more nightmares and she felt both relieved and guilty.

She glanced back at the wall again as she slid back under the covers. Hopefully he was getting some much needed sleep, and she was determined to stay in bed for as long as possible in order to allow him to get even more. She looked out her window and watched the sun color the streaky clouds as it rose. It was beautiful as always; a daily message from the Father that each day was a fresh start filled with possibilities.