His face is contorted in pain. I look up once more. No. I am not to make a move. Though I comply with an obedient heart, I still wish to rip that filthy, 'artificially intelligent' robot apart. I feel the Father smiling sympathetically down at me. I know that, as much as it pains me to see my charge harmed, it pains Him much more. Not only because of the harm being done, but also because my young charge has not turned his thoughts toward the Father. If he did, his pain, physical, mental, and spiritual, would be so much easier to bear.
I am a guardian angel, my charge, Mark Wylde, is, at the moment, going through a tortuous interrogation. His arm is actually being amputated. Hence the reason I want to tear his interrogator, a robot by the name of Gelorum, apart. He is also screaming. He is losing a physical and mental battle. Physically, he wants to let go. Mentally, his resolve is weakening. The answer he knows he desperately needs to hide, he desperately wants to say. He will. I can see it in his eyes, glassy as they are. He shuts them tightly, screaming for her to stop.
"Stop! Please stop! Stooop!!" He screams again in pain. The arm is almost completely separated. The blood is pouring out. I clench my fist. Watching him grow up, I cannot help but love him. Like a parent. Well, not quite as much. More like a mix between a parent and an extra brother.
There. He said it. Screamed it, I should say. He doesn't know though. He is delirious. His arm is completely amputated. They are attaching a robotic one. He is not fully aware of this either.
Evil, morbid laughing draws my attention. Quentin, the only other guardian angle in this wretched place, is standing next to his half-robot charge: Brian Kadeem. I can see the sorrow in Quentin's' eyes. No one should go through something like that. No one.
It has been a few hours, human time, since the interrogation. Mark is slowly coming to a semi-conscience state. I have a request for the Father. He grants it.
Silently, I release him from his bonds, and then slowly lift him to the ground. Easing him to the ground, the Father allows me a physical body. Leaning against me, Mark blinks his eyes open. He groans as the pain hits him.
In his half-conscious state, he mumbles, "Arm…"
"It hurts doesn't it?" I say in a low voice.
He begins to nod, but apparently a wave of pain hits him.
I look down at him.
"Kurt…." He says. Barely.
"Your brother? What about him?"
"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…." He whispers, his voice choking. "I was wrong…"
"Yes," I muse. "Wrong to be so bitter for so long. And he's loved you all this time."
Tears are falling down his face. Then his brow furrows. He's about to ask a question. "Who're you?"
I smile sadly at his weak words. "I'm you're guardian angel."
"Oh." It came out more like a groan.
He slips back into a fully unconscious state. A few more human hours pass before I am told I must put him back. I hate too, but I must. He stirs slightly as I lift him.
After about half-an-hour, I hear foot-steps. Jeremiah appears along with his charge, Kurt. The last time I saw them, Jeremiah had a sorrowful look as Kurt said something I could not really hear. But now it was Kurt with the look of grief as he entered the room.
We are both told to abide our time. I am not sure why.
We are all gathered in what the humans call a 'sweeper.' My fellow angels say that they have already ridden one.
The two teams have been asleep for a few hours already. They pulled off the road, and met up with Dr. Tezla and Lani. The girls are sharing the car. Well, everyone is asleep except for Mark. He seemed to be absorbing everything.
His brother stirs beside him. I quietly chuckled as Kurt blinked owlishly at his little brother.
"Still not asleep?" He asked, rising to a sitting position.
Mark looks over. "Nah."
The worried look on Kurt's face makes us smile.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Kurt inquires.
With a sigh, Mark shook his head no.
"Alright. But you really should get some rest. You need it."
Mark nodded, laying his head on his brothers shoulder. "Have you seen yourself lately though? You look exhausted too."
I look at Kurt. He does actually look exhausted.
Jeremiah explained, "He didn't really get much sleep while Markie-" he stopped himself, shook his head, and continued, "Mark, was with the Drones. And the broken ribs don't help much either. I heard them crack when Kadeem was beating him. Sorry, but Kurt says Markie so much, it seems to have 'rubbed off,' if you will, on me."
I nodded.
Kurt replied to Mark, "I'm fine."
Jeremiah snorts lightly at this comment.
Mark sniffed, his eyes closing. After a moment he spoke, "I did have one weird dream while I was there."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I dreamed that I was leaning against this guy, at the base of…whatever it was that I was on."
Kurt's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Really? What did you talk about? Who was he?"
Mark managed two small answers, "Nothin'. He said he was my guardian angel."
"What did he look like?" Came another question.
The only response is gentle snoring. I chuckled again. I always thought that snoring sounded funny.
Kurt sighs and shakes his head. He gently lays Mark's head on his lap and gently as possible removes his jacket, which he lays over his brother.
"Well," Jeremiah begins.
"Well what? I cannot read your mind Jeremiah."
"Well, it seems that you have been degraded to a weird dream."
"Ah, but I am not a weird dream."
"Oh? Then what are you?"
I smile. "I am a guardian angel."
There. Hope you liked it. Like I said, I'm a little obsessed with them right now. That's owing to the fact that I'm writing a chapter story that includes them, and it's taking up most my time and ideas...:)