Brigit’s Flame Prompt: Lost & Found
Code Blue, ER – 1 STAT!!!
“Damnit, we’re losing him, give me 1mg epi, and set paddles to 200; CLEAR”… asystole.
“I am sorry doctor, he’s gone.”
“Patient pronounced at 0230hrs.”
When he came to, he found himself standing in a place he ever never expected to be in his death. The only other time in his life that he had seen this many books in one location was when he had visited the National Library of Medicine in Bethesda, Maryland. He mused “Am I dead, or am I still fucked – up on the bag of dope I just did?” He expected that this would be a rhetorical question. he nearly jumped out of his skin at the response: “Oh, rest assured you are right and truly dead, young man, and if I were you I would hope you have a good and valid reason for being so.”
The young man turned to find himself standing in front of a most interesting “person”? “/being?” Before him stood an individual who appeared male, approximately 7 – 8’ in height with the most impressive deep purple wings he has ever seen on anything in his life. “What are you? I must be tripping by balls off if I’m seeing this shit?”
The being looked lovingly at the young man, and stated “My name is Jonathan. I am not your imagination, and you have been brought here for a reason which I will make clear to you in a few moments as soon as you are willing to accept that you are, in fact, right; and truly dead.”
The look make him uncomfortable, and pissed him off. He was not sure which emotion was strongest at the moment)
Don’t you think that was my intent dumbass?” the young man snarked. “I had every intention to end my miserable existence, and unless this is some cruel joke of my shattered mind, I have in fact succeeded in checking out. Either that, or this is a bad trip OR I will wake up and be more miserable than I started because some fuckwad decided that Narcan was needed.
I also was doing something other than opioids at the same time, so Narcan don’t work for dick. That’s why I could win at punching my fucking clock.”
Jonathan calmly listened to this tirade; and, upon its completion took a deep breath and stated “This is no cruel joke, your death was successful to a point, and unbeknownst to you there was no one around to administer any antidote of any form. When you were found, you were in full cardiac arrest and your skin was turning a shade similar to that of my wings.”
With that statement, Jonathan fell silent to let the gravity of his words fall upon the young man who stood before him.
Although he tried not to show it, Jonathan’s words hit him square in the chest, and seared painfully to his core. Then he asked one of the first honest questions he had ever asked in his young life: “So, what does this mean for me?”
Jonathan’s words surprised him, “That all depends on how you choose to answer my questions, and if you are willing to accept what I have to offer you.”
“Come again?” the young man asked.
Jonathan took a moment to consider his next words carefully, not because he was concerned that he would say the wrong thing, but because he did not want to show his hand too quickly. This was a balancing act that could go awry easily at any moment if he were not careful. The young man’s soul and the fate of many were at stake.
After several moments of heavy silence, Jonathan finally began to reveal to the young man the reason he found himself in a Library upon his “death”. “What I am about to share with you will be difficult for you to accept. All I ask is that you afford me the courtesy to outline the details by which you can reprieve your soul from Multiversal erasure, and find the tools required to achieve expiation.”
The young man looked at him for a moment. Since he didn’t understand most of what he had said stated, “Yo! Speak English, Wing Man.”
Jonathan, smiled ever so slightly and said “If I must put it in language you understand, Find your lost soul or you are screwed.”
He then got quiet, so quiet in fact that he realized that he was not human, for he was not even breathing. It was at this point that Ricky (the young man) recognized that during the entire conversation he never once saw Jonathan move his lips once, and yet they were holding a conversation. He also recognized that his body appeared like an emaciated holocaust victim, without a stitch of clothing on his 6’1” frame.
“HEY! I’m naked here, what the hell happened to my clothes?” Ricky shouted.
Jonathan looked at him, and stated, “You may be nude, but as you have never been naked a day in your life. You not only do not know how to be naked, you are not mature enough to be so.”
Ricky looked at Jonathan and snapped back “Who do you think you are, a damn psychotherapist? Naked and nude are the same thing, dumbass, or didn’t they teach you English where you come from?”
“As a matter of fact, Richard, I speak more languages than you will ever comprehend. There is a difference between the two words. I mean “nude” as in unclothed, and “naked” as in bare, exposed, having no covering emotionally, mentally, or spiritually. Yes there is a difference between the words, and yes you are nude and not naked. You have just proved it.”
“FUCK YOU!” was Ricky’s angry reply. No one had ever come close to beating him at his own game before. He thought he could out think this person, or at least get an upper hand on the situation to figure out what was going on, because underneath the “tough guy” exterior beat the heart of a scared little boy.
Jonathan well knew this, but said nothing. He waited patiently, until he felt it was the best moment, moved on to his next point. “Please understand the gravity of my words. If you are unwilling to accept what I have to offer you, the Multiverse will erase you from ALL EXISTENCE FOREVER!!!” With that he stood, and left Ricky alone with his thoughts.
After several moments, Jonathan returned and found Ricky perusing the bookshelves; slowly drinking in each; and every one of the titles that he came across. Seeing that he was ensconced in his thoughts, truly considering the words that Jonathan had given him, he chose to wait until he was noticed in the room. Looking up, Ricky gave Jonathan a piercing look, and deciding that he was not going to flinch, or disappear as a figment of his imagination, he had a moment of clarity (one of the few of his life). Then he said to Jonathan “OK, let’s hear what you have to say. I can’t guarantee that I will believe it, but I will not l tell you that I think you’re full of shit or something, because right now I still think I’m tripping.”
Jonathan motioned Ricky over to a mirror that was on one of the walls in the Library. With a wave of his hand, he asked Ricky what he saw. Unlike a normal mirror which showed reflections, this mirror seemed to be a projection screen that showed Ricky an image of a body in the morgue deep within the bowels of a hospital. Upon closer examination, he realized that the body on the table within this morgue was his own, and that he was, in fact, very dead. The scene then changed to the Emergency Department, where a doctor was discussing the death with an officer. Apparently the deceased was a John Doe, so no one would be coming to claim the body. Then that the mirror went dark. The next thing he knew, Ricky was looking down at the mirror’s bloody shards on the ground at his feet, nursing the bleeding knuckles of his right hand.
Seething, Ricky turned to Jonathan and growled “Why the hell did you have to show me that shit?”
“To prove a point.”
This only made Ricky angrier. He could feel the heat rise within him. At the same time, he could feel himself become “numb”. This was the point where he could take a life and frankly not care. Ricky secretly wondered what it would take to snuff out this winged asshole who had just showed him one of the reasons that he ended his life in the first place.
“Richard, killing me would only make your situation that much more grave, and it would equally make it that much more difficult for your to expiate your soul from any form of reprieve from any face of Divine.”
This only angered Ricky more. “Number one, DON’T FUCKING CALL ME RICHARD! Number two, would you stop using these seventy – five cent words on me, I ain’t dumb but I can’t think straight right now. Number three, what the hell does this have to do with something I never thought I had to begin with? And finally, number four, who said I ever believed in Divine?” Than after a moment, Ricky added “And one more thing WHO THE FUCK GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO READ MY MIND?”
Jonathan sized up the situation, and decided which of the questions to answer once he was able to discern when Ricky actually asked direct questions. Finding that he actually did ask several questions in his brief tirade, Jonathan chose to answer them in order of importance as he saw them. “First and foremost, I apologize Ricky for calling you by your given name, but that is what I have known you as since you chose that name before this incarnation. That leads to the question of whether or not you have a soul, for if you did not have one you would not have been able to achieve a physical form in this or any other plane of existence within the Multiverse. Finally, no one claimed that YOU BELIEVED in any face of Divine. However, I would not be here if THEY DID NOT BELIEVE IN YOU.”
“You sure you ain’t the one smoking dope?” Ricky asked. “When has anyone ever given two shits about me?”
Jonathan looked him square in the eyes, and that stare penetrated deep into the core of his being. Jonathan’s next words caused goosebumps on Ricky’s arms: “If I was not asked to bring you here today because someone does, you WILL NEVER GET OFF THAT MORGUE SLAB, NOR WILL YOU EVER EXIST AGAIN.”
Ricky took a moment to consider his words, and asked “What do you mean by this? What am I missing here? Remember, I ain’t the sharpest blade in the block.”
Jonathan closed his eyes as if he were thinking, or musing over something. Finally he looked at Ricky and asked “Do you remember what you were doing, and more importantly thinking in the moments that led up to your overdose, and death?”
Ricky started laughing, and after several seconds asked “What does that have to do with any of this?”
Jonathan simply stated: “It is critical you remember what occurred. More will be revealed once you are able to relate this experience exactly as it happened.
Ricky thought for a moment. “I got my hands on a bag of heroin laced with meth. I planned on smoking it all by myself. I was hoping to erase myself from this life before anyone found me. i even went so far as to write a note stating that I forfeited my life to this bag; and its contents in the hoping it would take my life, and erase it. Then signed it in blood and burned it. Before that I drank a fifth of Jack Black, and decided that this was what going to do it, not caring if I lived or died.”
Jonathan than looked at Ricky and in a voice that seemed to chill the air around them stated “The John Doe they were discussing was you.” At that point Ricky looked at Jonathan to see if he was lying, and Jonathan stated in a voice that could cut glass “I AM A MEMBER OF THE AKASHIC LIBRARIANS, AND A SARAPHIM OF MICHAEL, I AM INCAPABLE OF LYING. What I am trying to do is save your soul from eternal extinction, because you DARE think that no one “gives a …” about you. If I did not, I would not be wasting my time trying to get through to you the gravity of your situation. You have nearly lost your soul you think that you do not have, and I pray to all the faces of Divine you claim you do not believe in that we can get it back before it is too late, because we are not done with you yet!”
This piqued Ricky’s curiosity. “What is an Akashic Librarian?”
Jonathan replied “We are a select group of individuals from various Races throughout Creation who are keepers of the wisdom of the various faces of Divine.”
Ricky than asked “So what’s this got to do with me?”
Jonathan answered “You are a unique case. Normally a soul previous to their incarnation is paired with guardian spirit, or other guide who stays with them to help them learns the lessons that they need to learn during their incarnation. Once those lessons are learned, other guides, guardians, or Spirits aid the soul in question with their life lessons, Karmic debts, and finally they either end their time on Earth, or become in rare cases Ascended Masters.
“In rare cases, Ascended Masters such as Christ, Buddha, Krishna, among others incarnate to teach humanity directly. However, as in the case of the Christ there are those who do not accept what he had to offer, and he was crucified for that very reason. Others, like myself have the rare opportunity to become guides to a select few souls who have been chosen to perform special tasks for the Multiverse, if and when those souls feel that they are ready for this work. In your case, something happened, and not only did your soul forget what it was supposed to do, but a significant piece of it was stolen from you, and it is my task with your help, and permission to get it back before it is lost forever, and we lose someone who we have spent long upon long searching to find as a vehicle for a message of vital importance.
“Where things get complicated is that unbeknownst to you, in your highly intoxicated state you performed a form of ancient blood magick that has scattered your soul over several different time lines, and has left you exposed to being taken captive by a being whom you would not wish to ever want to deal with. This being is known to many in Creation as The Nameless Dark.” Ricky took this all in, and started doubting what he was hearing. Then he thought twice about doubting any of this. Instead, he decided to consider that this could be true. So Ricky decided to ask Jonathan what to do next, assuming that he was to believe that this was really happening.
“Ok, let’s say I believe you. Switch that, I’d be lying. I want to believe you, but this shit is hard to swallow. First you tell me that I did some ancient magick shit, than you tell me that my soul may fall into the hands of some nasty fucker who seems to scare the bejesus out of you. And there is one other question that just came to mind, who was the no – name stiff on the slab tab, and why the hell did I care that he was alone with a toe tag?”
Jonathan realized that although they were between worlds and times, Ricky was stil lintoxicated from his alcohol/opioid/amphetamine cocktail. Perhaps it would be beneficial for him to remove the effects of these substances from the young man’s brain. “Ricky, you may not realize this but you have asked one of your questions before, and I have already given you the answer. This tells me that either you are in denial, or the intoxicants… I apologize, the drugs that you have done have effected your memory. IF you will allow me, I would like to remove those effects from you, IF you can trust me.”
“Come again?” Ricky questioned. “You can only heal me if I trust you, what kind of creature are you?”
Again Jonathan looked lovingly at him, and again Ricky felt uncomfortable because he felt few people ever loved him. Jonathan said “Humans do not understand that healing only works if the one being healed trusts that the one who heals can, in fact, do what they claim they can do. Otherwise, it is merely wasted words, enduring suffering, and for some, ultimately, their death. To truly and honestly be healed, one must for a moment trust not only the healer, but also their desire to be healed”
Ricky considered these words carefully. After several minutes, to his great surprise, decided that he did want to be healed. He accepted that he was tired of being this way, that maybe, just maybe it was not too late, and that this Akashic whatever might actually be doing something that it appeared no one else in his life ever did… CARE. “Ok, I trust you to heal me. What do I have to do?”
Jonathan smiled, and explained that this healing was ancient, and that he would be asking the same question three different ways, please understand that IT MUST BE DONE THIS WAY for it to work, and that he is bound by Laws written before the Universe was a thought. Ricky showed that he understood, although he thought it odd, but allowed that this was this dude’s way of doing things, and they began.
“Ricky, do you trust me?” He answered yes.
“Ricky, do you trust that I can heal you?” Again, Ricky answered yes.
“Ricky, do you trust that The All That Is has given me this gift of Grace to give to you?” Ricky hesitated, his mind started combating the idea that Jonathan had just asked him to put faith in GOD and trust that he could be healed. Ricky wanted to be healed, but he struggled with the GOD thing. He started shaking uncontrollably, and felt tears, actual tears streaming down his face. Looking at Jonathan, with an emotional tremble he said “I trust you were given the gift, I don’t believe in the giver, and if that’s screwed me than I deserve it.”
At that moment Jonathan walked over, touched Ricky on the top of the head, and the next thing that Ricky heard was “Code Blue, ER – 1 STAT!!! Damnit, we’re losing him, give me 1mg epi, and set paddles to 200; CLEAR”… asystole.
“Shock him again at 320, CLEAR!”
“Doctor we have a rhythm.”
“Thank God, get this boy on fluids, and get him to ICU, and another thing run a Tox screen on him to find out why he almost died on my shift.”
Three days later, Ricky came to in the ICU with tubes running out of both arms, a catheter, and more monitors plugged into him than he had ever seen in his lifetime. As he was completing his scan of the room, he noticed a figure apparently asleep in one of the reclining chairs in the corner, the figure was tall, well built, and wearing what appeared to be an expensive deep purple cashmere duster. Scanning his bed, he found a call button, pushed it and within moments was surprised to see a nurse and two doctors appear as if by magic. One of the women (Ricky assumed a doctor) said to him “How in God’s name are you awake, much less alive?” Ricky quipped, “I don’t know, ask him. The only reason I pushed the damn button is the fact I have a fucking headache, and would like something for it. Can ya fix it?” “Watch your tone, and I will ask.” As the nurse left to fulfill the request upon the doctor’s approval, the two doctors than proceeded to ask Ricky a slew of questions that seemed rather stupid. He answered them. They then poked, prodded, examined, and looked over him with a fine tooth comb and, satisfied that they had done their doctor duties, removed themselves from his room mumbling under their breaths something in what Ricky assumed was Doctor speak.
The nurse was left behind to check on Ricky’s IV tubes, and bandages, at that moment he groggily quipped “Yo, did I just imagine the doctors coming in here treating me like furniture, or are you actually going to accept that I can speak?” The nurse looked at Ricky and said “They are finding it hard to believe that you are alive, especially when you died twice in the ER, and when we brought you here they assumed that you might be brain dead due to the fact that you had virtually no EEG activity.”
“So that’s why I have the skull cap?” Ricky asked. The nurse confirmed that fact, and motioning to the individual in the duster, “when your friend wakes up, perhaps he can illuminate your situation better. Until then, if I were you I’d be thanking God that you are alive.” With that she left before he had the opportunity to respond. As if on cue, the individual in the duster finally awoke, and looked at Ricky with a stare that caused him to hesitate for a moment before he actually recognized who this person was.
“Wing Man, is that you?”
“Yes, Ricky it is me. However, I do have a name and it is Jonathan.”
“Cool, now what?” Ricky asked.
“We wait for your body to catch up with the healing I did on your Spirit, and then we work on finding the lost pieces of your Soul.” Jonathan answered in his irritating matter of fact tone.
Ricky thought it was worth the risk to broach a question “How am I expected to pay for this vacation in ICU, and all that when I ain’t got a pot to piss in, or a window to pitch it out of?”
Jonathan smiled (at least it looked like a smile), and stated “The Lord doth provide in mysterious ways, His wonders to behold.”
“Come again, dude?” Ricky looked confused.
Jonathan approached the bed, leaned down close to Ricky’s ear and said “I am an Angel of God, and, He has not sent me forth without sufficient modern day manna.”
“DUDE, speak my English, you sound like you ate a damn British Professor of English. In that duster you look like you came out of a Doctor Who Convention. If you’re going to blend in on my turf, we gotta get ya new threads, and work on your choice of words.”
“Understood, but I have ‘rules’ that I must adhere to. First, I must wear something purple at all times. Second, I have an expense account. Third, I have everything you need in terms of a roof over your head, and – from the looks of your body something you are quite alien to – food.”
Several weeks later following countless hours of therapy of various forms, Ricky was finally able to be discharged. Jonathan reassured him that everything would be fine, and that he was now under his charge, as his legal guardian. Much to Ricky’s surprise, when Jonathan arrived in front of the hospital to pick him up, the car he drove was totally unexpected. Ricky had dreamed of someday seeing one of these cars up close, but the idea of actually being in one was beyond measure. Sitting in front of him was a Rolls Royce Silver Shadow.
“You have got to be kidding dude, it that your Ride?” Ricky asked with shock.
“This is one of several cars that I have access to in order to maintain my appearances in your world.” Jonathan replied.
“What exactly is your ‘appearance’ in this world, and what the hell am I supposed to do? I stand out next to you like a damn wart on someone’s ass, barely noticeable but irritating as fuck.”
“If you must know Ricky, I am a Professor of Library History, and I equally hold a separate Doctorate in Religion and Theological Documents.”
“And I fit in where?” Ricky pressed.
“Being that you are only 16 years old, as of this morning you officially became my adopted son.” Jonathan stated awaiting the potential storm that might occur with this newest revelation.
“I ain’t calling you dad or any of that other crap if that’s what you’re thinking. What passed for parents died when I was 12, and I got along without them so don’t press your luck.” Ricky replied with an odd mix of emotion.
“You’re welcome, and the adoption was to prevent you from being placed in a System that would have resulted in not only your physical death, but the death of your lost soul. We’ve achieved a small victory for now, by saving your body. Your spirit is still strong and what remains of your tenuous soul has been scattered to the nine winds, and Multiverse, and we hope can still be found before it is too late. Our next actions are critical, and what you will endure will not be easy, but if you follow my directions there is still hope.” Jonathan seemed concerned about disclosing too many details to early not knowing how Ricky would take it. Ricky’s response relieved him.
“So I became Peter Pan, and what are you an oversized Tinkerbell?” Ricky jokingly jabbed.
Accepting of the joke, and calmly thankful that Ricky might be warming up to him, Jonathan felt it was best to insert his next lesson into his reply. “The Fae do not have wings, but you haven’t the strength nor the sanity to handle meeting anyone of the Courts of Light and Shadow just yet. They among other will be aiding in your journey, but first unlike Peter Pan who refused to grow up, you’ve yet to know how to be a child.”
Ricky shot back “Yo dumbass, did you forget I am only 16, I ain’t far past childhood and seen more shit then people three times my age.”
“Ricky, I must admit that being who and what I am, I forget that humans created the limitations of chronological time, and therefore designate “ages” as stages of development, whereas we of the Angelic Hosts know no such limitations, and have achieved childlike states over epochs. However, you have yet to see all there is to see of this world. To “find” you we must explore sides of this world that few humans will admit exist. Upon our entry to your new home, you will begin your training and I shall not be easy on you, nor will I withhold anything from you. From this point forward we work under the following three “rules” 1: Honesty IS Required. 2: Accept that all faces of Divine are ONE, and 3: There is no one, true, right and only way; which is a “rule” that I borrowed from one of your Earth Authors Mercedes Lackey. Are you comfortable with what I ask?”
Ricky thought carefully about what he had just been told, weighed all of his options, and finally said “Cool, but you’re still weird as fuck, and we gotta work on that accent. As for the rest, I ain’t sure what to do with all of this, but I died to get here, so I might as well enjoy the ride.”
Jonathan realized that Ricky had just taken his first critical step. Unbeknownst to Ricky, he had become the “Fool” in the Journey of the Hero, what he lost was far more than his mortal mind recognized. For what Jonathan had yet to share with him was what lingered below the surface of his deepest subconscious, deep within the spark of the remnants of his tattered soul, what he had yet to find was the makings of an “unconscious angel” Jonathan also knew, that before this journey was over he and Ricky would find several more of these lost souls. What he did not yet know, but trusted in Divine, and the wisdom received from his Akashic brethren was the trials that awaited them in the days to come.
After several moments of silence, Jonathan turned the Rolls into a tree lined private drive with a large iron gate. Gauging his response to the Castle that loomed ever larger in the distance he finally stated “Welcome home Ricky. This is where your journey truly begins.”