Name: Dream Dangerously, Fassbender Fan, Jimjamz
Title: Changes (part 7)
Disclaimer: characters belong to the writers of Hex and Shine Entertainment with the exception of original characters created for this fic.
Character focus: Cassie/Thelma/Azazeal.
Rating: PG
Summary: Cassie returns to Medenham after the events of Series 1 to discover some shocking changes. This was originally written as a continue the plot fic on the Strange Thoughts board.
Context: Just after series 1, an alternative version of events to series 2.
Keywords: drama,

Bloodied tissue lay scattered across the bedspread like debris from a fatal car crash as Thelma paced the room chewing her fingers, her eyes focused upon the scene.

Cassie lay limply across the width of the bed, her eyes closed once more as Michael tended to the wound. An intense look upon his furrowed brow he dabbed at the wound with a sensitivity that surprised Thelma. His childlike hand clasping Cassie's as he worked.

The room grew dark as night fell and the three sat in silence by the light of a bedside lamp. Cassie remained asleep, her wound no longer bleeding whilst Thelma was crouched beneath the window her legs crossed and her scuffed cowboy points tucked beneath her

"Why did you save her?"

Michael looked up in response to the question obviously aimed at him, he was leant against the door frame, his head barely level with the handle, his eyes bright in the dim light.

"She's my mother," he answered with the same expressionless voice that made Thelma's skin crawl

"...and Azazeal is your father, you know what they say about apples.."

"I am nothing like my Father!" Michael stepped away from the door this time his voice resonating with anger
*
Thelma's head was thumping. Was it even possible for ghosts to have headaches? She wearily put her fingers to her temples and rubbed them.

Cassie was now sleeping on the bed, her chest rising and falling slowly, she looked so peaceful. Thelma missed the happy ignorance that a deep dreamless sleep could bring.

She mustered all her patience and forced herself to speak politely to Michael. He had, at least, just saved her best friend.

Peggy had mentioned a prophecy concerning Michael, or rather another prophesies beyond just being the key to the release of the Nephilim. Peggy had explained that Michael would face a choice that he was as much a part of his mother as his father and he had an inherent goodness inside. The prophecy said that Michael would either take up his crown as the prince of Azazeal's strange dark world, or he would cast it down. Thelma felt a tinge of pity at the fate that rested on Michael's shoulders.

The prophecy also mentioned an unholy alliance, between the living and the dead and the one that stood between. Could it mean? Thelma decided to ask, no point in beating around the bush now.

"Sariel. Why isn't he with Azazeal's army? What part does he play in this mess?"

Michael sighed and walked to a nearby chair his eyes avoiding Thelma's stare.

Sitting, he looked up and began to speak, his voice breaking the eerie silence surrounding his being.

"Sariel is a complicated character Thelma; he is not to be underestimated. Sariel was given the role of deciding the fate of angels; he was responsible for punishing all those who strayed from God's path. This of course made him unpopular with those who had fallen, you can imagine why, so when he himself fell from grace he was not greeted with open arms.

You see Sariel's 'fall' was not at all expected he was...is an angel of knowledge, and was one of the leaders in Heaven's armies. The proverbial 'teacher's pet' you might say. Anyway for him to 'fall' to deceive God in such a manner was a blow no one was prepared for"

Thelma's brow narrowed as she listened intently her eyes fixed upon the floor, concentration etched upon her expression.

"But..why didn't they just-"

"Kill him?" Michael clasped his hands together in a way which made Thelma uneasy, still adjusting to the contradiction of Michael's age and physical appearance she shuffled in her spot

"I'm afraid it is not that easy..

"How..." Thelma began, but Michael raising his hand, his eyes locked onto Cassie, stopped her. Thelma looked over to her as well, to see she was finally stirring. She sat up from her position under the window and shuffled over to the bed on her knee's.

"Thelma?" Cassie muttered, looking confused as she gazed at her, "What happened? Did you save me? Is...Is he gone?"

"If you mean Azazeal, yes, he is gone" Thelma smiled, "And I didn't save you...Michael did"

"Michael" Cassie repeated slowly, sitting up, "Where-"

"I'm here," Michael said, standing up apprehensively. A look of worry momentarily crossed Cassie's face as she gazed at her son, but it was quickly replaced by a small smile. Michael returned the smile, and Thelma moved back under the window, feeling like an intruder upon the moment.

"Come over here" Cassie said tenderly, sitting up properly now. Michael shuffled over, looking slightly uncomfortable but at the same time pleased.

"Thanks..." Cassie whispered, wrapping him in her arms, "I really-"

But she was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Michael wrenched himself away, looking panicked. Cassie looked around the room, her eyes resting on Thelma's bed.

"Get under the bed" She whispered, confident he wouldn't be found there. He obeyed, and she waited before he was completely hidden before crossing the room and opening the door.

It was Jo, looking like she'd just been crying. Her eyes were puffy and her hands were fidgeting restlessly.

"Cass...what on earth has happened to you?" She asked, looking horrified as she took in the bruise on the girls cheek and the wound on her forehead.

"I...uh..." Cassie began, not even sure of what had happened herself.

"Did this have anything to do with Troy?" Jo asked, her voice getting higher with every syllable.

"What...?"

Thelma's eyes widened. In the panic of the moment she had completely forgotten about Troy. A shameful lump formed in her throat as she strained to listen to the conversation in the doorway
*

The mirror shattered into pieces as Roses heel struck the glass, splinters escaped from all directions decorating the greyed slabs underfoot like dew. Kicking the frame across the floor with her boot she sighed and strolled to a nearby dresser adorned with cobwebs and dust seeping from the cracks in the rotting wood.

She had been alone in the room, if you could call it that; a small barred window and a large locked wooden door were her only outlet to the world outside. Her eyes darted back and forth to a curtain on the nearby wall, the pattern hidden beneath the grime and a door hidden behind that. The last time she had seen Azazeal he had been leaving her through that door to the room adjacent to this. She knew why, she knew she was there but remained positive that he would soon return. To her. To Rose rather than Cassie.

Finding no interest in the dresser, she returned to the faded plush chair set aside for her to sit on. Resting her chin in her hands she began to close her eyes...to imagine what her life would be like when she was on Azazeal's right hand.
*

"Oh" Cassie said blankly, now sat on her bed. Jo was opposite her, laying a shaking hand on the girls shoulder. She felt numb. Troy? Dead? She hadn't given him much thought the past couple of weeks, what with everything that had went on. She tried to remember the last conversation they'd had, but it was all a blur.

"Cassie, are you alright?" Jo asked, giving her a concerned look.

She nodded slowly, not really taking in what her teacher was saying. She waited for the tears to come, but they didn't. Why wasn't she crying?

"Cassie" Jo said again, staring straight into her eyes, "The police...they want to talk to you. They want to know where you've been the past few days...and they'll want to know where you got your injuries"

"I didn't do anything," Cassie said automatically, abruptly standing up.

"Well...you just need to tell the police that" Jo said, eying her suspiciously. It all did seem a bit odd. Cassie wasn't seen for two days, and then Troy was found dead in the library. Then Cassie showed up, with a big gash in her head and bruises. What on earth had happened?

"And I want you to go to the nurse before you speak to them, get that sorted out" She nodded at the wound, "It looks like you've made a rather botched attempt to clean it up"

"I cant" Cassie muttered, panic starting to set in at the thought of talking to the police, "I didn't do anything, they don't need to speak to me" She looked over to Thelma, who looked almost as petrified as she was.

"Cassie...its" She was finding it hard to reassure the girl, saying as she was just as suspicious of her as the police seemed to be, "Look, i'm not going to lie to you, your old enough now. The situation isn't right. You go missing and you turn up the day we find your ex-boyfriend murdered, the ex boyfriend who's baby-"

"It wasn't his baby!" Cassie said furiously.

"Whose baby you recently aborted. Add that to the fact you come back with cuts and bruises...your there prime suspect"

"Will you come with me?" Jo's eyes were wide with worry and what Cassie perceived to be fear as she extended a shaking hand toward the girl. Cassie glanced at the bed beneath which Michael was hidden and back at Thelma who sat wide-eyed clutching her knees to her chest. Returning her gaze to Jo she nodded silently.

Jo withdrew her hand and, pursing her lips into the usual smile, led Cassie from the room.

Thelma remained in silence for several moments before she remembered Michael

"You can come out" she said without moving, her head swimming with confused and broken thoughts.

Michael crawled from beneath the lavender valance which adorned Rose's bed and, dusting himself off, he stood at height (which was barely three foot)

"We have to get her back. She's not safe with them"

"I'm sure Azazeal won't-" Thelma began wearily

"Yes he will! We have to get her back Thelma."
*

"Sweet dreams?"

Rose awoke with a start to find Sariel leant over her, a hand resting on each arm of the chair and a smug grin spread across his handsome face, the dim light doing him every favour. He removed his hands and watched Rose as she straightened up, eyeing her companion and scanning the doors for signs of a forced entry.

"How did you-" she paused "Nevermind..I don't care how you got in. What do you want?" she folded her arms to show she was not afraid of the angel

"You don't care? I'm hurt" he spoke with a mocking pain that wound Rose up, touching the place his heart lay with his hand, she felt the anger rise at his patronism of her, but before she could retaliate he continued

"I know what you do care about though my dear Rose. Yes I can see it now, the longing, the pain in your eyes. He will never choose you; it is written-"

"I don't care what some balding monk wrote down a few hundred years back, he will-"

"A few hundred?" his laughter rang out "Try a few thousand child! And you should care because things are about to get very interesting for our Azazeal..do you really want to stick around for that? Given your track record.." his eyes danced with spite as he spoke, his innotation of the word child making her blood boil once more.

Suddenly he was upon her, swooping forward he pinned her to the chair his hands fixed upon the dying furniture and his face millimetres from her own. She could feel his breath on her face as she stared defiantly into his eyes now glowing as studied her

"Heed my words Rose. Go. While you still can, he is not your friend nor your lover and that I can assure you will not change."

They remained locked in a stare for what seemed like hours before he let go of the chair. His eyes rested upon the heavily bolted door like a cat ready to pounce..

"Things are about to get very interesting..."