Lower Tadfield Safehouse

He knew there were voices speaking around him but didnt seem to hear. As if in a numb trance he began to search the pockets. Maybe if he found the ID he could contact the family. Gabriel could help with that.

There were a few bills of small value. Some pieces of torn paper, one that appeared to be from a book. His fingers touched what he thought was a wallet and pulling it out he realized it was a British passport. Quickly opening it he saw the name.

Martin Cole.

He was no longer a nameless face and he felt his chest swell. The man may have lived alone or maybe he had a wife waiting for him. Did he have children? A job?

"I'm so sorry..." He found himself whispering.

"I'm not an angel anymore!"

"You are the Healer of God! One of the Seven that stand before the Throne!"

"I'm not an angel!"

How could you let this happen, Father? He clenched his eyes shut, shrugging out of the over-jacket of his robe and using it to cover the body. His stomach felt sick. He felt betrayed. How could Father do this? Create him as a Healer and then take it away?

"I'm not an angel anymore!"

"...can you feel their faith in you? Their love for you?"

He wrapped his arms numbly around himself, softly whispering ritual prayers in the angelic tongue as Faith and Doubt began their war for their place within him.

"I'm not an angel anymore!"

"You are the Healer of God!"

"Can you feel their faith...?"

"I'm not an angel anymore!"

His vision blurred and he clenched his teeth as if in pain. This isn't fair!

Somewhere in the fury of the storm, he remembers. He remembers the warmth and the Love he felt within that church in Venice. He remembers Gabriel's desperation to help him. He remembers... a promise...

I have to... I have to have Faith...

I will have Faith...

Father... Please forgive me... I will have Faith...

In the very next moment he was enveloped in a bright green light.