http://alynwa.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] alynwa.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] section7mfu2016-05-19 12:20 am
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May Song Story: Deliver Her from Evil

She had no idea how she had gotten there, but she was home.  She couldn’t mistake the house she had grown up in for anything else.  She looked up and down the unpaved road and seeing no one, she walked the short driveway and stepped onto the rickety front porch.

Grimacing at the peeling paint and splintering wood, she turned the knob of the front door and entered.  “Mama?”

“Well, well, well.  Look what the cat done drug in!  Why are you here, Angela?”

“I told you not to call me that!”

“Oh, excuse me, Angelique.  You’ve gotten pretty high – falutin’ since you left the bayou, haven’t you?  So, why are you here?  You missed Mother’s Day, but so what?  You’ve missed every Mother’s Day since you got on the Greyhound and rode outta town.”

“I…don’t know,” Angelique faltered, “I found myself outside on the road.”

“I bet I know!  The Devil got sick of you and threw you up out of Hell!  You’ve got bad blood, just like your Daddy!  You’re evil, just like he was!”

“Don’t say that, Mama!  I’m not!  This is why I had to leave, why Daddy had to leave!  You and your crazy religious ideas!  You talk about Mother’s Day? You were never a mother to me!  You don’t love me!”  She tried to back away when her mother came towards her, but the older woman grabbed hold of her wrist and yanked.

“Get on your knees, Angela.  Get on your knees with me and pray to God for forgiveness of your evil ways!”
 

She seemed to possess the strength of the insane and Angelique couldn’t stop herself from being pulled down to the floor.  “Stop, Mama!  Please!”

“You’re evil, girl!  Pray.  Pray now!"

“No, Mama!  I’m not evil.  I’m not evil!”

Angelique!”

Her eyes shot open as she sat bolt upright.  She reached behind herself blindly to grab her weapon from under the pillow before her mind caught up with her body and reminded her she wasn’t in bed alone.  She turned to look at her companion who was swinging her gun with two fingers as he lay there staring at her with concern written on his face.  “What time is it?”

“Seven twenty – three,” Napoleon replied, “You fell asleep.  I’m flattered you trust me that much.”

She ran her hand through her hair.  “It wasn’t trust, it was wine.  I know better than to drink merlot.  It makes me very sleepy.  Thank you for not killing me in my sleep.”

“That’s more your purview, but you’re welcome.  It would seem that drinking merlot makes you have weird dreams, too.  You were yelling ‘I’m not evil.’  Care to share?”

She stood up and headed to the bathroom.  “No, Cherie, I have no wish for you to laugh at me.  Be a love and order coffee from Room Service?”

By the time Angelique emerged fully dressed, Napoleon had used the sink in the wet bar to take a “birdbath” and shave and was sipping the coffee and munching on one of the scones he had ordered.  Pouring another cup, he handed it to her and said, “I would never laugh at you if you decided to tell me something real about yourself.  I’ll tell you this: I don’t think you’re evil.  I know you’re on the wrong side, but you’re not evil.”  He reached over and stroked her face.  “You’re hiding misery behind that beautiful face.  You don’t have to go through it alone.”

Napoleon would think of that moment later as Angelique dropping her defenses and showing him her vulnerable side.  Her eyes softened as she replied, “Cherie, I appreciate that more than you will ever know.  I’m not telling you a thing, but I believe you would listen and not judge me.  That means a lot.  Thank you.”  She checked the time.  “You need to go; some of my colleagues will be coming to get me soon and they would be more than happy to either kill you or send you to the Central Committee and if anyone is doing that, it will be me and I don’t feel like killing you today.”

Hours later, he and Illya were on a flight headed to their next assignment.  The Russian had listened with interest as Napoleon recounted the tale of his time with his sometime lover.  When he finished speaking Illya said, “I am glad she fell asleep and not you.  She is a cobra; she would have killed you in your sleep because it is in her nature to do so.  As for her having a nightmare, that makes her an agent.  We all have them.  And as for her screaming that she is not evil, I agree with her.  Very few people are truly evil.”

“It almost sounds like you have empathy for her, Tovarisch.”

“Bite your tongue.”



"Evil"

Evil, runnin' through
our brain,
we and evil's about the same.
Bad blood through our body flows,
where's the love nobody knows.

Beauty in our face you see,
tryin' to hide all our misery, but
Evil, runnin' through my brain,
me and evil are about the same.

Evil... in our life
Evil... causin' strife

Lookin for a place to gild a little light
in our souls and minds
Maybe if we learn to pray
life would lend us sunshiny days.
And evil runnnin' thru our brains
turn to love and won't be the blame.


[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com 2016-05-20 03:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, I do like this. You make Angelique more human with this little glimpse of her past.