Slumber

The 5th installment of Bless!

It's just a filler at the moment, because this is such a slow story, but I've mapped out the rest of the story so it definitely is coming together :)

Enjoy!
And to all the Canadians: HAPPY CANADA DAY!!!

::

Sam pauses his knuckles over the grain of Sarah's apartment door, twisting slightly to procure his cell phone from the pocket of his sweat pants to check the time. He sucks in a breath at the late hour, glad he hadn't knocked, in case they are asleep. Stepping back, he scrummages for the nick in the door frame, tongue peeking at his intense concentration as he feels the boards making up the frame with his fingertips.

Dropping his duffelbag onto the floor, he snags the thin string painted the same colour as the boards, and hooks it with his pinky. Tugging the key out of the hidden nook, he chuckles in triumph.

"That little sneaky creature," he playfully chides as he sticks the key into the doorknob and unlocks the door with a congratulatory ping of successfully interlocking metal hooks. 'Always thinking up new hiding places. Hasn't changed a bit.'

Softly, he peels the door open, surprised the lights of the apartment are all on. He recognizes the blaring of infomercials from the living room and he frowns, hoping she hasn't waited up for him.

Locking the door behind him and abandoning his bag with his shoes, his frown lifts at a corner when he enters the scene. Holding back a chuckle, he tiptoes to the T.V. to switch it off, silencing the incessant chattering and revealing the snores escaping from the couch.

For a moment he just watches, absorbing the oblivious couple tucked into the cushions. 'No wrinkles', he marvels, relieved to see his childhood friend as she was years before the worry and stress inhabited her thin shoulders and collected on her brow.

Her hair is tousled, splayed out around her face like an aura to highlight her cheekbones and jaw. A strand tickles her temple and she absently scrunches her face to deter the offending lock. She has slid down the couch to lay across the length of the furniture, her right arm tossed above her head, and her left wrapped around the boy snuggled deep into her chest.

A spark of jealousy spikes through his veins and he remembers the challenging stare the "innocent angel" had displayed.

"You damn cheat," he hisses, and attempts to wipe off the pout that wants to settle on his lips. Instead, to break the losing battle and to satisfy the jealousy building up inside his chest, he pokes Sarah in the cheek, none-too-gently, to wake her up.

After the fifth poke, all unforgiving, she starts to move, although only to shift away from the attack. "Leave me alone," she mutters in her sleep, slipping her arm from around Blue and flipping away to face the back of the couch. "I'm sleepy."

He almost doesn't contain his laughter when Blue is effectively tossed off the edge of the couch from her roll. Managing to stifle his laughter to a smug grin, he remarks, "Looks like both of us are on our own tonight."

Noticing her struggle to curl up against the couch, he twists his mouth before scooping her up into his arms. She doesn't move a lid as she settles into the crooks of his arms as he transfers her into her own bed. Automatically, she sinks into her familiar duvet and pillow, ignoring the feelings of the man watching over her.

Sighing, he pivots on his heel, ready to make himself comfortable on her couch, when he realizes who is making his way to the bedroom.

"Oh, no, you don't," he whispers, wrenching Blue out of the doorway and into the living room. "You get the love seat and I'll take the couch, you sneak," he announces, waiting pointedly for Blue to obey.

As if taking the moment to think over the demand, Blue slowly complies and lays on the cushions, not meeting Sam's eyes as he stares off at the ceiling. Taking this as a sign of obedience, Sam retrieves the spare blankets and pillows from her hallway closet and tosses one of each to the motionless boy before settling himself on the couch so his long legs hang off an armrest with minimal discomfort.

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Wonder

The fourth installment of Bless! It's a long time coming :P

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Sarah quickly realizes that aside from feeding Blue, she has run out of ideas to keep him busy. Over her cleared plate, she turns to once again glance at the clock, only to find that it has only been ten minutes since she's last checked. Sighing, she stacks her utensils on her plate and wipes her mouth with her napkin as she studies the brown haired boy across her table. 

This is so strange, she muses, and smiles when he practices his grip on the fork and spoon. The rice topples from the edge of the spoon as he lifts it to his gaping mouth and he frowns as he realizes that he hasn't shoveled anything in.

Where did he come from and why does he not know how to use a spoon? She sips from her glass of water and raises her eyebrows, lightly tapping her temple with her knuckles. Of all questions, why do I have a boy with wings in my apartment? Of course, why do I keep forgetting he's not just a normal, clueless boy.

"Seh-rah," a voice chimes, interrupting her questioning thoughts, and she smiles, remembering when he had initially repeated her name as she was prepping the salad. Now he holds up his spoon, his fork clutched between his right fingers, forgotten as he had opted to concentrate solely on his left hand. 

She isn't quite sure what he is expecting so she sets her water glass down and claps her hands together and maintains her smile. "You did it, awesome," she exclaims and his excitement radiates throughout the kitchen. "Now eat it up before it falls," she adds, noticing the grains dangerously wavering as he holds up the silverware. 

The last spoonful swoops into his mouth and his pleasure flutters his wings underneath his jersey, appearing as if his shoulders are jostling from laughter. A golden glow momentarily encircles the crown of his head, but Sarah quickly shakes away the image with a toss of her blonde hair, blaming the suggestions of angels. 

So before her mind wanders any further, she collects Blue's rice speckled plate as he reaches for his glass of juice and gently tugs the fork and spoon from his hands so he can grip the glass easier. 

"Is there anything you'd like to do, Blue?" she asks, although hesitant. What do boys like to do?  she wonders, thinking back to the days when Sam would disappear without her to play kickball with the neighborhood boys.

"Seh-rah," Blue chimes again, holding up the empty glass for her, an expectant smile breaking his rosy cheeks. He glitters and she unconsciously relaxes under his ethereal glow. 

Stacking the plates and silverware so she can carry all the dishes, she gently pries the glass from his hands, thanking him softly with a congratulatory exclamation. Turning away from him with the dishes, she momentarily breathes a deep breath, finding that the same fluttering doubts and concerns that pop into her head immediately return when she isn't focused on Blue. If I just concentrate on Blue, and think of him as just a boy, maybe I can get through tonight, she hopes and loads her sink with suds.

Drying her hands on the dishtowel, she deems herself calm enough to face the boy kicking his feet as he waits at the table. Her eyes drift away from him before she gets caught up in his bright smile and innocent gaze. She desperately searches for something, anything, to occupy his attention. Considering she hasn't ever really gotten along with children, much less had them over, she can only decide on the one device that would capture any child's attention for hours. 

"Wanna watch T.V.?" she ponders, and he only cocks his head to the side with confusion flitting across his open eyes. 

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Angelic

Continuation of Gratitude, of my current story-project Bless. 

So take a read and let me know what you think~!

(It would be much appreciated!) 

::

Sarah jumps and smacks her head on the edge of the sink counter when Sam calls for her. Rubbing the aching spot with a groan, she grabs the first aid kit from the cupboard under the sink, hand still cupping the bump forming on the crown of her head, and abandons the bathroom for her bedroom, alarmed by the anxious tone in Sam's voice.

She almost skids into Sam's back, stopping the collision with the hand holding the kit slamming into his hard back. His lean 6'9 stature doesn't move when she touches him and his stillness unnerves her. "Sam," she starts, peeking at his wide eyed expression. He holds up his hand to say something, the makings of a smile wavering around an open-mouthed awe. Nothing escapes his mouth so he points away from her.

She has forgotten about Blue in her frantic to decipher what is wrong with Sam, so she is surprised when she turns to face Sam's amazement and sees Blue on her bed. To be more accurate, what is attached to Blue drops her jaw. 

"Blue?" she squeaks, but can't find any more words.

Sam breaks into a grin. "You went to get the first aid kit so I thought I'd face whatever was hidden under the bandages before you did, y'know, because of your silly squeamishness." Sarah snaps her head towards him at the jest, ready to retort but he continues. "So I managed to convince him to let me peek at his shoulder blades, I mean, on the court I see a lot of bones get broken, but his shoulder blades just didn't look right, so I unraveled the bandages and they just peeled off, then, Sarah, you see them. I wasn't sure what to do. I mean, they're feathers! Feathers! He has feathers, Sarah!"

Turning away from Sam's excited smile and twinkling eyes, she inches closer to the edge of the mattress, catching Blue's attention from the jersey spread flat on the sheets over his knees. At the sight of her, he greets Sarah with his familiar cherub smile and silent laughter, leaping from the pillows in a bound. 

Sarah freezes, stunned by his leap, but mostly by the arc of his slow descent as the wings on his back beat with his excitement and momentarily catch air. His impact slams her to the ground, and if Sam wasn't there to catch her, she would have ended up with another bump on the head. 

Blue pops his head up from her neck, his laughter a silent melody as his wings flex behind him. Her fingers cautiously reach towards his left wing with an itching mind of their own, and when he notices her endeavor before she does, he turns and stretches the wing closer so the light tips brush her fingertips. "So soft," she murmurs, stroking the long, gossamer white feathers and tufts of down clustered closer to the base of his wing. "What are you?" she breathes, gingerly brushing her fingers over the area around the base of the wing. It's smooth and flawless, and the muscles corded underneath and around his shoulder blade stretch and relax under her touch with natural ease.

A sound escapes his mouth and Sarah, startled by the only noise he has ever made, flinches her hand away only to recognize the sound, not as a cry of distress, but a giggle. Relieved that she hasn't hurt him, she grins, mirroring his contagious happiness, and without a moment's hesitance, tickles him under his ribs. 

He squeals and his previous silent laughter finally awakens to a melodic sound that carries, like a cool, light sheet dotted with twinkling stars spread overhead. The chime of his high pitched giggles bounce with the same joy radiating from his flushed cheeks. 

Sam clears his throat, ceasing the playful session so they both relay their attention to him. He has settled on the floor beside them, cross-legged, which is quite a feat for a professional basketball player, and has lost his childish glee to a more somber expression. "I think we need to discuss this first before you get too attached. Sarah, sit up, please," he commands and she obeys, imitating his seating, allowing Blue to crawl into her lap. 

She recognizes the tone and expression from when they were younger and a serious atmosphere was required for situations. "You're right," she agrees, smiling briefly at Blue who lays his palm on her cheek with confusion evident in his eyes. 

"Blue," Sam asks, diverting Blue's attention from Sarah. "How old are you? Eight? Nine? You look around ten." Blue doesn't reply, instead, he tilts his head similarly as he had when Sarah had asked him in the park. "Do you know where you live? Where your parents are?" Again, no answer. 

Sam pauses to think, his left hand burying itself in his mussed dark hair, tugging as if to pull up an answer. Finally, he leans forward to meet Blue's curious gaze and asks, "Blue, where did you come from?"

Immediately Blue smiles and shoots his arm up to point his delicate fingers to the ceiling. His eagerness to please radiates, and when he twists to Sarah for praise, she pats his head with a smile, although slightly worried. 

"I think we need to take him to the police," Sam starts, then slaps his face with his hand and changes his mind. "No, no they won't believe this. A boy with angel wings." He barks out a laugh before snapping his fingers. With eyes alight with an idea, he scrambles to his feet. "Hold on," he says, "I've got someone to call." With that said, he leaves the bedroom with his hand digging in the pocket of his sweatpants for his cellphone.

Dumbfounded by his departure, Sarah gazes at the boy nestled in her lap. "Angel, huh?" she whispers and finds herself surprised by how easily she can accept the situation. He perks up at her voice and mouths the word, so she repeats it for him. 

The word flows from his bud lips after a couple soundless efforts until he forces the air from his lungs so the last syllable of the word is heard like a bell in the air. His voice is beautiful, like a song. He repeats the word over and over, as if mesmerized by the accomplishment, and Sarah is enchanted by the symphony of his exuberance. 

"Who has connections?" Sam sings, sliding into the bedroom with his hands in the air and effectively interrupting the concert. He hooks his thumbs so they point down to his cocky smile and raised eyebrows as he proclaims, "This guy!"

Blue pauses to stare at Sam's pose in the doorway and Sarah is just as befuddled. "Is that really necessary?" she asks sarcastically, and his mock glare automatically ignites an eye roll from her.

"I was just on the phone with one of the city's top detectives and he says he'll be on the lookout for any missing children reports fitting Blue's description, but y'know, without the detail of his wings." 

"How do you know a detective?" she asks, dubious.

"He's on speed dial for some of the players on my team who need a watchdog for their girlfriends during the season. He's real famous for being anonymous and really good at investigation. Everyone knows him."

Still concerned, she asks, "What's his name?"

"He goes by Detective R," he brags, rubbing his fingernails on the chest of his shirt.

"Never heard of him," she bluntly replies and shifts Blue off her lap so she can stand. 

"Well you shouldn't," Sam answers pointedly, a catty grin smeared on his face with matching twinkles in his eyes. "Or he wouldn't be one of the city's top detectives."

"Fair enough. Now, before we get all caught up in this, because heaven only knows what else is going to happen now that a detective is involved," she raises her eyebrows at this, pointedly staring at Sam. He rolls his eyes at her in the same manner she had, but the excitement in the quirk of his mouth refuses to settle. "We need to deal with Blue, and I mean, it's obvious he's staying here with me, but Sam, I know nothing about children."

Sarah slumps onto her mattress and massages her forehead with her fingertips, strained by the responsibility. Blue immediately clambers to her side, and Sarah peeks through her fingers when he wraps his hands to pull her fingers from her face. Finally noticing his nakedness, she leans away from him to stretch across the bed for the jersey still spread on the sheets. 

"Right, my apartment is lacking on the nutrition and household necessities," Sam admits as she guides Blue's crown and arms through their respective holes. "But I could stay over tonight, although I've got practice in the morning."


"Really?" she asks with a smile of relief. Sarah tugs the jersey so it covers Blue up, and her mood gently lifts with Blue's admiration of his new favorite shirt. "Thanks Sam. I know how busy you are."

"Not at all, sweets. I just wish I could do more with my schedule. But before I say anything further, 'cuz you know I would, I have to hit up the gym with my team."

Surprised, her eyes widen and she starts an apology only for him to silence her with a chuckle. 

"Plenty of time for me to catch them," he reassures and strides towards her to bow forward and softly peck a kiss in her hair. "Now, don't fret while I'm gone. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Just make sure he eats something and drinks his juice; he didn't finish it, like he should have."

A silent battle rages as the boys lock eyes for a moment until Blue turns away to smile at her attention. "That's simple, I can handle that," she verifies, but more for herself than for him.

"Awesome, so I'm off," he calls, quickly ruffling Blue's feathery hair, chuckling when Blue frowns, and heads out the door. 

The sound of the door thudding shut at Sam's departure leaves the duo in silence. 

Blue shimmies closer to her side, snuggling almost into her lap in an attempt to attract her attention again, and Sarah chuckles at the feathers poking from the collar and short sleeves of the jersey. 

"We definitely need to figure out your clothing situation. This just won't do," she notes as he attempts to flutter his wings under the fabric constraint. He pouts, frustrated by the defiance of his favorite shirt to the whims of his wings. 

::

Goodness! It's taken quite the time to finish this chapter!

I haven't had the time to work on it, but after a lot of encouragement to continue from friends on Protagonize, I have made it a mission to work on it in any spare time (when my brain hasn't fallen asleep, that is!). 

So thank you all for your support! Each comment and review sparks life into my mind and reminds me of why I write :)

Also, I've been hit with quite a bit of inspiration for short stories and character ideas, which hopefully don't interfere with Bless! So I will definitely attempt to write them up, and if not, when this semester is over, there will be a lot for you to read :P

Always busy, but placing my best smile forward,

Mera! :)

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Gratitude

2nd Part of Bless. Read that first :)

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She unplugs the electric kettle with a tug on the cord when it starts to squeal, immediately squelching the shriek to only clouds of steam. Grabbing a mug from a cupboard overhead, Sarah pulls open a drawer to sidle through her collection of teas. She chooses a raspberry tea from a box and pulls one of the tiny bags from the stack just as her cell phone chimes from her discarded purse. 

Teabag in hand, she sliding on her tiptoes to her purse on the other side of the kitchen counter, mindful of waking up Blue in her bedroom. Adrenaline pumping, she taps at the screen without looking at the caller's name, and heaves a hello as soon as she brings the device to her ear. 

The deep voice on the other line chuckles and she relaxes at the familiar tone. "Did you just run a marathon? You sound winded; did I interrupt something important at work?" Sam asks, and if she hadn't known him since they were twelve, she would've believed he actually cared about calling while she was on the job.

"Actually, I'm taking the day off," she states and smirks at the thought of his dark eyes bulging out of their sockets in disbelief.

"You're kidding," he sputters, and she giggles childishly at his confusion. "Good, little Sarah is skipping out on her job?" He gasps comically. "Has she finally delved to the dark side? When should I bring over the tequila?"

"Hold on," she chides, shaking her blonde hair. "No more tequila. Never, not after the first time."

"We were sixteen," Sam whines, "And we're smart enough now to drink it mixed. I can make a mean tequila sunrise for the ladies."

Sarah scoffs as she's sure he's wiggling his eyebrows with his statement. "I'm sure," she replies sarcastically as she drops the teabag into her mug. "Anyways, I made it part of my conscience to never touch tequila after that, so no chance. I'll stick to my teas," she adds, pouring the steaming water over the teabag and watching the hot water stain rose as she steeps the bag. 

"Fine, but I'm curious. What has driven my sweet Sarah to ditch work, because the only time you've ever taken a day off was after being sent home by your boss. I had to pick you up and you were delirious with a fever and looked like a living hell, and strangely enough, right now you're coherent."

She pauses, glancing at the bedroom door, opened at a crack so she can see the tiny lump in her comforter. "I brought home someone," she starts and instantly corrects herself, "I mean, not a man, but a boy! He was in the park during my break and he's wrapped head to toe in bandages. I think he's running away from abuse, Sam."

Sam blows out a soft breath on the other end of the line and Sarah runs her hand over her face, flustered by her slip-up, realizing that she sounds insane.

"You have gone absolutely mental," he finally says. "That can be the only explanation for why you'd kidnap a boy from the park." He isn't yelling, but his tone is edgy like he isn't quite sure he believes her. 

"He's hurt and he only has a coat. He had no shoes, Sam, I had to do something," she defends, gripping the cellphone in her hands while worrying her lip between her teeth.

"I understand where you're going with this. I know you and you wouldn't do anything to the kid, but this is still kidnapping. You can go to jail for this. You could have taken him to the police. Sarah, does Joel know?"

"No, he doesn't," she relents, but quickly changes the subject. "I did ask Blue but he refuses to speak, and I promised to take him to his house or the police tomorrow morning, before Joel knows about this. Sam, I can't just leave a runaway, you know that, and Joel doesn't need to get involved..." She trails off, suddenly overwhelmed by her decisions and past.

He sighs again. "I know, I know," he trails thoughtfully, "Just let me come over. I'll be at your apartment in five minutes. Calm down and let me figure this out for you."

She squeaks out a simple "Okay" and waits for him to hang up before she ends the call. Placing her phone on the island, she drops herself onto a bar stool and swivels to grab her mug before swiveling back to the island. 

What was I thinking, taking a kid home? Is this kidnapping? "Dammit," she whispers, tapping the knuckles of her clenched fist against the furrows appearing on her forehead. And she hadn't thought about Joel and his reaction to this.

Sam must have taken the stairs at a sprint from his apartment three floors above hers because he knocks at the door just then. Standing, she opens the door for him and he instantly greets her by gripping her shoulders with both his hands and bending at the waist to kiss her lightly on her forehead. 

"Don't you worry about a thing, sweets," he says and she realizes that her panic is showing on her face. "Now where is he?"

He isn't looking at her anymore, instead, his eyes sweep over the living room and kitchen. He is still driven by the rush of running to her apartment and she almost laughs at the curls of his messy dark hair that stick out around his head as if he had just woken up, which she suspects would be correct considering his attire of sweatpants, flip-flops and wrinkled gym tee.

"He's sleeping," she supplies, guiding him towards the kitchen and shutting the door as he steps out of the doorway. 

She joins him at the island and points to her bedroom where the little bump rises and falls with silent snores. Sam creeps quietly to the hallway and she opens up a cupboard to grab another mug from the shelf. 

"What's his name? What did he tell you? How old is he? I thought he'd be a teenager," Sam confesses, climbing onto a stool as she searches for the stash of hot chocolate packs Sam likes whenever he comes over.  

"He doesn't speak. I don't know anything about him, only that he doesn't want to go home or to the police. He wouldn't say his name so I just call him Blue, because of his eyes." She sticks a spoon into the mug after pouring out the contents of the hot chocolate pack and drowning the powder in steaming water. 

He accepts the mug and immediately starts stirring. "This is crazy." He shakes his head and props his chin on his free hand, leaning on the counter as he yawns. "You know nothing about him, much less children. For all you know, he could rob you and take off, or kill you!"

She laughs and he glares as he takes a sip of the hot chocolate. "That's preposterous, Sam. He's just a sweet little kid. I mean, I found him playing with the pigeons in the park."

Sam raises an eyebrow beneath his squashed mop of dark locks. "Found him? Where was he? Your park is just a brick path between a couple trees," he recalls, remembering her favorite place in the city that she spent her breaks in. 

She purses her lips and steals a glance at the bedroom door. "You're not going to believe this, but for a second, I saw a huge flock of pigeons fall from the sky. It was like a ball of feathers smashing into the trees so I chased after it; it was absolutely phenomenal. And when I found the birds, Blue was sitting right in the middle of the landing, covered in pigeons! And when I saw him, wrapped up in bandages, I didn't know what to do, and he wouldn't let go of me so we compromised and I said he could stay with me tonight then I could take him to the police in the morning." When he frowns she pleads, "Sam, just one night of running away is enough, and it's not like I'm helping him leave home forever. He won't make my mistake."

He sets his mug on the island and runs his fingers through his hair and she is, once again, grateful to have Sam, even when she has no one else. He's the only one who didn't abandon her, and the only one who followed her to the city. She lets a small smile touch her lips as he blows out another breath, in thought, as he attempts to help her fix her mess. 

"And Joel doesn't know?" he asks lightly and Sarah frowns at his insistence.

"No, he doesn't. He doesn't need to know anyways," she pleads with a set purse of her lips. 

He holds up his hands beside his face with an apology hanging off his lips. "I get it, I get it. You know how I feel about this marriage. Although, this situation isn't really helping with the wedding coming up and all."

Suddenly her bedroom door creaks open and they both turn to face the boy in the hallway, effectively cutting off any retort of Sarah's. He is wrapped in her comforter, concealing his slim bandaged body, with most of the comforter trailing behind him. He smiles when he sees her and she is instantly enchanted by his cherub grin peeking from between the floral folds. Blue tilts his fair head at Sam, his smile faltering slightly, and Sam hops off his stool, plastering a smile on his sleepy face as he greets the boy. 

"Hey kid, I'm Sam, Sarah's friend," he starts, hand outstretched, but stops when Blue slips between his hand and the kitchen doorway in a flurry of the thick blanket, burying himself into Sarah's side. Blue glares menacingly at Sam from behind Sarah, and Sam is surprised by the ferocious chill that emanates from behind the large bright cerulean irises. 

Sarah attempts to soothe Blue, surprised by his reaction to Sam. Placing a hand on his soft hair, she redirects Blue's attention to her, where he immediately lifts his lips to smile when they lock eyes. "Sam is my best friend, he's not going to do anything," and she meaningfully raises her eyebrows at Sam and waits for his stubborn affirmation before continuing. "Now, you didn't sleep for very long, would you like some juice?"

He nods enthusiastically, but doesn't release his hold on her arm as she stands. She gently pries his fingers from her sleeve and gestures him towards her stool, all the while noting the straight mouth and crossed arms of Sam's disapproval. 

When Blue climbs up onto the stool, she turns to grab a glass from the dish rack, quickly locating orange juice in her fridge. Pivoting to face her guests, Sarah is slammed with the obvious tension between the two boys. The intensity of Sam's displeasure is startling considering his adoration of children. She places the glass on the table, intercepting the staring contest, and pours the juice into the glass.

"Your scarf," Sam mutters and coughs, and she pops her head up at his voice. He takes a sip of his mug and tips his head up in Blue's direction without meeting her eyes. "He's wearing the scarf I gave you, and nothing else," he adds in a muttered tone, indicating the pop of green peeking out from under Blue's chin. 

Remembering Blue's outfit underneath the comforter, she quickly hands Sam the carton in her hand and pushes the glass of juice towards Blue. "Blue, you must be cold. Let me get you something to wear!" 

In an instant, Sarah is out of the kitchen and in her bedroom, ripping open her closet to search for something to cover Blue. How did I forget that all he's wearing is bandages? I would make a terrible mother... Finding a stack of her collection of jerseys, all procured from Sam who insists that she buy one at every sporting event he invites her to, she bundles the stack in her arms and separates them from the mess she has made. 

Triumphant at her luck, she doesn't notice that Blue has sidled beside her on the floor, devoid of the comforter, in front of her closet until he reaches for the bright green jersey of a local hockey team. He tugs at the jersey caught in the stack and she releases her hold on the jerseys so he can pull it out. 

"Blue likes green," Sam notes from her bedroom door and she smiles when Blue admires the jersey with wide eyes. "Maybe you should change his bandages," Sam suggests and Sarah hops back onto her feet to search for her first aid kit in the bathroom, cursing her own incapability to care for children, but eternally grateful to have Sam who has the experience.

::

The second part of Bless. 

I'm planning on mapping out these characters (It's been a while since I've done that...), so hopefully this story works out better than my other, not-planned-at-all, attempts. 

Questions will be answered as the story moves along, but feel free to point them out (they'll remind me what needs to be explained. I'm so focused in my own head that I need the reminders). 

Oh! And definitely let me know if you can find all the little character hints about Blue, Sarah, and Sam! I put them in to be noticed (that is, if you did...), and all the other English-class analysis junk :P I took too many of those classes to let them go to waste.

Welcome to my head
-Mera!

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Bless

JournalWord: Raising an angel.

::

The farther she walks into the park, the quieter the city bustle sounds. Automobiles disappear behind hedges and bushes, and buildings become obscured by the towering trees. The familiar pavement trampled by thousands scouring the city are momentarily replaced by a cobble stone path edged in grass, with stray leaves peeking through the spaces between the pale stones. 

Sarah inhales deeply as she strolls, replacing the scent of vehicle exhaust and fast-food grease with the leafy and clear air of her escape. She shrugs off the strap of her purse from her shoulder so it slides down her arm and into her palm. She swings her purse by the strap, a bounce in her step as she enjoys her minuet break. 

This is her time to not think about her job or her engagement. This is her time to forget that she's a secretary to an over-demanding boss and that her future mother-in-law is making all the decisions for the wedding. Sarah shakes her head, dispelling the thoughts from her mind as she locates her favorite bench.

She almost runs to the bench when she finds the elaborately carved, wooden seating, gracious for the relief off her heels. Settling in the shade, she tips her head back, allowing her blonde curls to slip from her shoulders and over the back of the bench. "This is relaxing," she whispers to the silence, and addressing the little park, "I hope you never leave me to this noisy, stressful world."

Her mind is completely clear, and she almost succumbs to the invitation to a quick cat nap when an angry squawking interrupts her silence. Pinching her lips and furrowing her brow at the noise, she pops open her eyelids and is startled by what she witnesses between the trees. 

A cluster of grey birds tumble from the sky, like a living asteroid cascading to the Earth. The flurry of feathers lands, in a flash, in the bushes meters in front of her, after tumbling through tree branches. Feathers and snapped leaves flutter from where the mass has landed in the hedges.

Sarah is back on her heels in an instant, her lip worrying between her teeth as she attempts to process what just happened. Her love of animals, however, decides to intervene and she heads for the direction of the birds escaping the collision. She pries open the bushes and hedges to slip through the foliage, scowling lightly when branches and twigs scratch at her arms and legs. As she gets closer, she recognizes the birds that are slowly trickling out of the bushes as simple, city pigeons.

Prying through a hedge, she is surprised to find that she isn't alone with the birds. A boy sits, surrounded by tufts of feathers and a bed of leaves, his legs splayed underneath him with pigeons preening around him. Two pigeons preen his light brown hair as they nestle like a crown on his head. He gently strokes the feathers of a pigeon on his lap, eyes downcast as another gray pigeon pecks at his foot. 

In her surprise, Sarah snaps a branch from the hedge she is holding away from her and effectively startles the pigeons, sending them fluttering off and into the sky with a series of discouraged coos. More feathers cascade down and as she stumbles through the bush, brushing off the leaves from her coat, she is caught in a gaze of the bluest eyes she has ever seen.

"Are you alright?" she ask and gasps when she intakes his appearance. She rushes to him, avoiding his captivating, beautiful gaze, and fingers the white bandages on his shoulders. The bandages cover up his body from his neck to his wrists and ankles. "Are you hurt?" 

She lifts her head and he lifts his as well to meet her concerned gaze. He shakes his head and she expels a breath, although she furrows her eyebrows as she suspects he is lying. She inspects his face and is momentarily stunned by his beauty. 

His cropped, light brown hair softly frames his heart-shaped face, curling at the ends against his jaw. His features are delicate and his skin is smooth and light. The blue irises of his eyes are azure pools that sparkle lightly like a newborns. He tilts his head slightly to the left and lifts his bud lips into a small smile at her stare.

She stutters, embarrassed for staring for too long. "W-where are your parents? I'm sure they're very worried about you," she says and his answer is a blank stare. His smile doesn't waver, but abruptly, he swings his arms around her neck and latches her into a hug. 

She doesn't know what to do. The last time she dealt with children was in high school when she babysat her neighbor's children on Saturdays, and they wanted everything but hugs. For a moment, she waves her arms so they hover around him in uncertainty. 

"Um," she says, lightly placing her hands on his shoulders to push him off, cautiously scanning for someone to help. Surely a hug doesn't last this long, she wonders when no one yells at her to leave the kid alone. "I should take you to the police so they can find your parents," she says, hopeful, but he doesn't respond or loosen his hold on her. "How about you tell me where you live so I can take you home," she persuades, yielding the same response. 

Sighing, she takes a second to think. He's covered in bandages and doesn't want to go home or to the police. And he doesn't want to let go of me, she adds, summing up the situation. Maybe he's being abused? Sarah frowns at the memory of her her own runaway experience in the past and decides he must have a reason, like she did, to leave home.

Feeling empathy for the kid, she softly whispers, defeated, "Do you want to come home with me? You can stay the night and tomorrow we'll deal with police and your parents."

He pulls away for a moment to smile at her and she is instantly enchanted; her heart warming at the thought of this kid smiling even when he has to deal with abuse. Her concern for his well being shoots higher when he shivers at a chilly autumn gust.

She whips her head around in search of his jacket and picks up the white coat laying on his lap. "You should put on your coat," she instructs, slipping his arms from around her neck through the sleeves. She discovers that he is nude for only the bandages and she briefly flares at the extent of his injuries from his abusers as she buttons the coat. 

Pulling him to his feet, she realizes that he is barefoot. She shuffles through her purse, pushing aside her wallet and bunches of loose receipts to find the pair of flats she keeps in her purse for days when her feet feel pained by her heels, slipping them on his feet. She stares at his feet a moment, a thought to his smooth soles. How can a runaway not have any sign of his trek through the city on his bare feet? She shrugs off the thought, relenting that it's only a small detail, and unties her green scarf, wrapping it around the boy's neck for extra warmth.

He tilts his head down and buries his chin in the fabric, stroking the green scarf with a smile. His eyes lifts up to her and he beams an excited smile and she accepts his silent, but happy, gesture as a sign of appreciation. Offering her hand, he latches his own to her fingers, one hand still stroking the scarf. 

They crawl through the bushes back to the path, and the boy never releases her hand, almost floating as he slides through the opening she creates in the hedges. On the path, she starts out of the park, one hand digging through her purse again, this time in search of her cell phone. 

"Hello, Margaret," she greets her boss, "I'm going to be taking the rest of the day off. I'm not feeling well and Janine can take care of the rest of your appointments." Sarah almost breathes a sigh of relief when her boss doesn't ask beyond a thoughtful get well and apology for overworking her for the last couple of weeks, ending the conversation with a simple instruction to "have a restful weekend". As she hangs up, she realizes that the boy is very fidgety. He whips his head back and forth, and when she tucks her phone back into her purse, he turns to look up at her, wide eyed and awestruck.

He follows her lead easily and his childish awe of the city dispels her happiness at his excitement. He should be around nine years old, maybe ten, she wonders, but he doesn't talk, or won't talk. Maybe he's a mute? But why is he acting as if he has never been to the city? Does he live out of the city? Then how did he get here?

"My name is Sarah," she introduces, and casually asks, "What's your name?" She smiles, hopeful, but he only stares at her, so she sighs. "Well I need to call you something. Should I make up a nickname for you?" 

To her surprise he smiles and nods his head, and she laughs at his excitement. "Blue," she says unexpectedly. "I'll call you Blue, because of your eyes." 

They continue walking, dodging the bustle of the streets and as they stroll, she feels Blue tug at her hand. He points at a steaming hot dog stand with a crowd and, realizing that it is almost noon, she steers them to the stand, ordering two hot dogs. 

When she presents him the hot dog, he eyes it with fascination glittering in his eyes. She pretends not to notice when he watches her lift the hot dog to her lips for a bite. After chewing then swallowing her bite, she prompts him to eat it and squeezes the hand that hasn't left hers. Slowly, he lifts the hot dog to his mouth, biting it and chewing with a satisfied smile. She chuckles, wiping the splatter of mustard on the edges of his lips with a napkin. 

They enjoy their lunch by watching the crowd in solemn silence and sitting on the edge of a fountain. The fountain is still on, but the water doesn't splash and waver by the edge. Blue almost abandons his hot dog to dive into the water, but Sarah quickly catches him. "You can't go diving, not in this weather. Eat your hot dog," she reminds, and watches as he frowns slightly  while biting the hot dog. Dejected at his disappointment, Sarah dips her fingers into the water and smiles. Hesitantly, he dips his fingers in as well, flicking up water with a smile. 

He stops playing with the water, staring intently at the surface. Worried, Sarah peers in, but only  finds his reflection. "It's just your reflection," she says and his confusion peaks as he pokes the reflection in the face. The water flutters and blurs the image, but when the surface settles, his image is clear. Her concern vanishes when he brings his hot dog to his mouth, watching himself eat with an amused, silent laugh.

They finish off their lunch and start back on the route to her apartment. She finds that his reactions to the passersby is much more interesting as she decides this must be his first time in the city. He dares not to stray into the crowd or tug on her hand to point out anything else he wants. His facial expression of wide eyed and open mouthed awe swivel left and right as he desperately tries to take in all the people and activity as they walk.

When they arrive to her apartment, he takes a moment to stare up at the building, tilting his head back to see the top. She ushers him into the lobby and head for the elevator, and he obediently follows but clutches to her side when the elevator jerks and starts it's climb. 

Her flat is not far down the hall and when she opens the door, he instantly shoots out of her grasp and into the living room. Surprised by his excitement, she locks the door and takes off her coat and heels, depositing her purse on the counter of her kitchen to search for him. She catches the sight of his white coat laying, crumpled on the floor of her living room and decides to pick it up. She shakes out the coat so it doesn't wrinkle and recognizes that it's actually a lab coat. Confused at why a child would have only a lab coat on him, she follows the trail of her discarded flats in the hall leading to her room. 

She finds him tucked on her bed, curled up with only her green scarf still tied around his neck. Her heart warms and she wonders if this is what motherhood feels like. She dispels the thought from her mind and scoops him in her arms, surprised by how light he is for a kid his age. Pulling back the sheets and comforter, she tucks him in, and just as she finishes tucking him in, he tosses around so his back faces her. She smiles as he lightly snores, unaware that he has just messed up her careful tucking, so she lifts the blanket to tuck him in again.

At the sight of his back, she stops. From his shoulder blades to the bottom of his rib cage, two elongated bumps run down his back from under the bandages. Hesitantly, she lifts a finger to stroke down the length of one, startled when he sighs. The bumps flex and twitch under the bandages when she moves her finger away. Sarah tears up at the thought of what the abusers did to this poor kid, appalled at what happened to create the bumps on his back. Carefully, she tucks the blankets and sheets around him again, patting his hair lightly before leaving him to sleep.

::

Yeah, I know, there are a lot of questions being left unsaid (Welcome to my strange mind... hehe), but I promise they'll all be answered in the next segment of this story. Nevertheless, let me know what you think (just a few words is fine :D). 

I didn't realize just how busy I would be and how much sleep I'll be missing :(. The missing sleep is probably the worst part though, and after some careful consideration,  I think I may have to postpone my BCIT plans for next year. I don't think I'll be able to complete all the requirements (especially the volunteer hours at the hospital) in time, which is a definite bummer. Maybe I'll work and save up money and take a year off school to get myself together. Who knows, really. So yeah, I'm a mess (lol, just a tid bit more than I usually am), but hopefully everything gets sorted out in the end. 

I just pray that "the end" isn't when I'm 30, or something. I've got other things to do then (like raise, a hopefully real, son named Hexane!).

Thanks for reading, and be good!
Mera

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