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asheewrites · 4 months

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Sick Call for Healer 8

“I’ve got it already, angel. Don’t worry about it.” The urge to boop her nose existed. Switch that brain back on? Currently it looked like the light is on, but no one’s home. Almost a minute later, she nodded and rearranged herself in a slightly more upright position. Coughed once into something that might have been an elbow, but it was covered in blanket, which… defeated the purpose, really.

Ah, it didn’t actually matter. Raphael didn’t need to look miserable even longer, so he switched on the TV and, predictably, the angel got distracted by it. It took longer than before – as a doctor, she might care about hygiene – but it made her look at the screen and then at Asmodeus.

Who nodded and explained: “It will be ‘It’s a wonderful life’. An older movie. Black and white. With angels… and a happy ending. Feel good and Christmas. Good when you are sick. Have you seen it already?”

“Haven’t… seen it.” Not that he believed she would remember right there and then… “Movies are… good when you are… sick?” She looked doubtful.

“They certainly are! Healthy mind, healthy body and all that,” he made a dismissive gesture. Raphael seemed to think about it. And once again nodded like this had been the epitome of profound wisdom.

… the angel will not remember a single thing when she’s fine again, will she?

A pot of tea appeared – drinkable temperature from the start, it would stay warm… - together with some warm milk with honey, if more substance was needed. And who knew, maybe she would even sleep with a bit of encouragement.

Snacks would be enjoyable – some bourbon sea salt caramels did come to mind. … but he should probably watch her. No sticky fingers. And no disturbed stomach for the angel.

“Sooo… we can start?” He prodded, and the angel nodded, drawing her cocoon tighter around her and sitting straigher.

The volume got adjusted with the introductory music – the angel’s ears were still way too sensitive – and the credits started rolling.

“Joseph… Joseph’s not an angel,” the angel said, wrinkling her nose. “And. And we’re not stars” She looked perplexed.

So… that’s what it was going to be like. Unfiltered thoughts of a sick archangel. About an old movie. Asmodeus lips curled. What had he signed up for.

He sat up straighter as well, grabbed the first strand of this outrageous mess of angel hair. Untangling and braiding it in small, relatively loose strands might do her some good. And he had something to do with his hands in place of snacking.

The slight tug on her hair didn’t distract her enough to give up on saying: “… and there certainly isn’t one named Clarence… without wings?” She sounded dismayed.

“Don’t worry, in the movie, angels get their wings whenever a bell rings” The hair was soft and fluffy, despite her being sick. Braiding it really won’t be a chore.

Raphael looked at the bell at the entrance, suspiciously, and started to try to get rid of the blankets and pat for her back.

Asmodeus pulled the blankets back up and patted her shoulder through the fabric: “No worries, only in the movie. You still have the usual six, won’t be more now.” Watching her, another ‘fact’ was added to the mental vault of sick angel.

“… all these kids would have broken in the ice and died. An inflammation… of the ear would… would have been the least of his problems. This is not how ice-safety… eh… works! At all…” The distress was genuine.

The movie still was not: “Bad teaching moment, but our hero heroically saved his little brother… when no one else would.”

“… it’s baaaad…” A pat on her head and a soft chuckle made her pay attention to the movie again.

The poison safety of the chemist might have given her nightmares. Same goes for the hitting of a child… or child labor. ‘It was a different time’ was not met with comprehension, but she accepted it. Maybe? Hard to judge with the attention span of a toddler.

She looked profoundly sad when it became apparent that George will never leave his hometown. Especially after the dad died: “But… his dream is to… to travel… to not stick in this place.” She pointed at the screen and looked at him, pleading for a change in this.

“It was published ’46. Not going to war was probably something people had to justify, too.” Asmodeus finished about a quarter of the loose hair, idly swapping the strands and finally tying them off with a conjured-up tie. It looked… decent. Nothing to write home about, but she would not strangle herself with her own hair, which might be an actual concern with the length of it.

She mumbled: “… but he wants to… to leave…”

Raphael watched Harry getting home, further proof of George’s entanglement with the city and the courtship of Mary in silence. There was a wince and an unhappy, pointing finger at the screen when everyone fell and/or jumped into the pool... Confusion at the different clothing-shenanigans after the impromptu bath… at least all of it gave him peace to work with the hair. It was nice hair, softly caressing his hands. Fluffy in the right way.

When the simulated travel during ‘honeymoon’ had come and gone, another quarter of hair was done and Raphael looked at him with a frown: “It’s… he’s staying for people. Just the… people.” She stared a bit longer, then sighed and shrugged: “… at least there were pictures of other places.” She got a pat for that. Got the right moral out of it this time?

For further braiding, seats needed to be changed - more access to more hair on the other side of her head. He settled well enough on the other side. Another five strands were done easy, while listening to complaints: “20.000 a year vs. 45 a week… so… nine times as much. Mr. Potter is a cheapskate, when he takes away any… executive decisions from him and restructures the whole policy and… this is not how stock markets work, I hope…” She sneezed. And sniffed.

Apparently, the angel could do math, even if not in full control of her faculties.

“How do taxes even… work if he switches from self… employed to a… contract…” And she fell silent. Approximately at the moment he had started to gather new strands starting from the roots, this time he’d literally had to go over her scalp to properly separate and get the mess under control. Raphael stayed very much silent. A quick glance at her face revealed closed eyes and a relaxed expression. With a raised brow, he continued to uselessly wrangle the strands by petting her head and… yes, she did not open her eyes, but leaned towards the touch. When he resumed the regular braiding, she reopened her eyes and corrected her posture to get rid of the lean.

“8000 dollar… is four times George’s wage, so…” If he hadn’t looked, he might not even have noticed the pause in watching. Mmmh.

Clarence introduction and the considered suicide attempt went over about as well as these kinds of things went over with angels. At least the latter with vehement unhappiness.

And then: the possible alternate universe.

“This… this could not possibly… work that way” She stared, but at least held still. “They… overhauled the city… and made… sex work more legal?” Here she did look at the expert in the room.

“It’s a movie, angel. And maybe they thought of Rhode Island. There it’s just a misdemeanor.” Which was true, at least.

“Oooh, so they… emulate that…. alright…” She did treat this movie like a learning experience. He looked around. Like she did with everything. Probably.

“The chemist then had no assistant... And still worked when his son died… Bloody war…” She pouted, while the last braid was tied off. It was… passable. Not gala-worthy, but she wouldn’t be looked at twice if she went outside. And most importantly, she would not strangle herself.

But now his hands were unoccupied and Raphael did not want to get into the holiday spirit. Maybe difficult with everyone declaring they forgot the main character. With a little huff from his nose, he paused the movie and pulled at the cocoon sitting half in front of him. No sitting up straight anymore. She fell half against his chest (without resistance, again) and blinked up at him: “…wha-?”

He put an arm around her back and petted the unbraided part on top of her head with the other hand: “Just watch it, dear. And stretch your legs. Relax a little, at least for the last minutes.”

He wondered if it was concerning that she did everything he told her without any convincing needed. Even if it was just a sickness side-effect.

After rearranging herself, her legs and the blankets (it took a while), she very, very carefully wriggled in place to get properly comfortable. And let go of all the tension. As instructed. Then looked up: “… kay?”

“Just watch… take it at face value. Safety or logic does not concern the people in the movie,” and it maybe destroyed any kind of enjoyment of the movie, if Raphael did.

“… mkay” and returned her eyes to the screen.

Very light scalp scritches might not be helpful for her attention span, but… she did not complain anymore. Not when the mother didn’t remember her son and never reconnected with anyone, not when his wife was absolutely not there…

There was a noise from her when George wanted to go back to his own life. But when the same man got to kiss his children and the money started rolling in, her hands did not grasp at the blankets anymore. She probably hadn’t actually watched the second he started petting her head.

No Tom Sawyer from Clarence for her… and no thank you for the wings…

It was probably for the best.

The angel snored. No wonder with the cold – or whatever it was -, but she most definitely did.

There was no tea or milk needed. She just slept. Easily.

Asmodeus had a slight suspicion about the recovery from this whole thing. He checked with his fingers on her forehead and… yes, the temperature already cooled. Subconsciously, she must have kept the whole thing going herself. Throwing out some viruses was not very difficult or time consuming… at least for them, they were supernatural beings, after all. If they had any kind of magic ability to heal, this was a piece of cake.

And, by definition, she had.

But needed to stop thinking and rest for a bit.

No external magic needed, she just lacked experience. First time sick and all.

Just a rest. Which the good doctor always told everyone else to do.

Ah well, most likely she won’t even remember this day or this visit. Opportunity to learn likely missed.

Asmodeus stopped petting – only a little unwilling sigh emerged – and extricated himself from behind the angel. First transferring her to the arm behind her, then slowly putting her on her side on the sofa. A pillow under her head made this a proper sleeping arrangement.

Now… she was still shivering – so he spread another blanket over her… which helped to at least calm her cold reaction. He would need to stick around a tiny bit to see how this developed, he supposed.

Not that it was much of a hardship. With his hands in his pockets, he looked at the bookshelves, saw way too many handwritten ones that had been blank before… smells of dried plants wafted over from them, sometimes peeked out.

Next to it, so many ‘for dummies’ books… from IT over standardized tests to grammar to baking (this one was very much banged up), Medical Billing and Coding for some reason – Raphael certainly did not live in the US – and vaccines, ALL the religion ones – Mormonism had so many question marks -, philosophy was complete in the collection. The dietary stuff got big X-es glued to them.

It was a lot. And then there was more. ‘Proper’ books, old ones… partially bound ones, some with illustrations on its side, pressed to keep the canvas? Considering the traces of all those other hobbies, no wonder she needed the rest. At one point, he should ask the angel how she found the time for all this.

And absolutely nothing in the rooms looked like it was gifted to the inhabitant. Not even any photographs.

Mh. There was some time to kill. He grabbed one of the charcoal pencils from the pile of those and re-opened the door to the staircase. It was an impressive collage of things, at least in sheer number and medium. There were not many people that just drew on their walls.

And it was the perfect opportunity to add something.

Amongst the many, many schematics, there was a bit of a scenario, too. There were some crows… and jackdaws… and one annoyed-looking raven. They were being absolute dicks to one another. It looked… lively. If a bit badly executed. Stealing food from one another, jumping about, showing off their talons or partially opened their wings for balance, since they shoved each other out of the way.

He added the corvid of his own wings - a magpie variant - to the mix. It ducked to the ground with an amused glint in it’s eyes and bit the raven’s tail feathers. To make it an interesting study, he spread the wings out like it had just landed. It was a little exercise in perspective and specific details. He wasn’t sure if todays bird-variant still had the same patterns as his own wings… Well, if not, it would be a special signature. If the angel ever found it, she might learn something. Plus. It was cute.

He walked back to drop off the now-shorter pencil, saw it had been an hour and observed the state of things. The angel was sleeping restfully, even with an open mouth not making noise anymore. Checking her forehead revealed a normal temperature – cooler than him. Very reassuring.

He made sure the tea and milk would remain at a drinkable temperature.

Seeing the now empty table, he clicked his tongue and left one obvious sign of his presence. A note:

‘Good morning, Raphael. After your nap – soup and sleep helps, for future reference – watch the end of ‘A wonderful life’ to get your brain some closure. The bell is broken and the rooms soundproof. Don’t forget to drink something. Get better! Asmodeus’

Now the pencil could return to it’s original place. He located her phone and placed it next to the note on the table. For emergencies.

The braids might be a surprise when she woke up.

Ah well, he scooped the jacket from the backrest, pet her head one last time and disappeared from the angel’s place. It had been… entertaining, at the very least.

#mercuryreddies asmodeus #my raph xd #2506 words #Ooof - well he left... if I get input there might be a tiny epilogue #but Raph shall be healthy again and that's a GOOD thing

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