Chapter Text
Hebrews 1:14. “Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of salvation?”
Earn your wings.
Find salvation.
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Scar opened the small can he was holding. The smell of fish filled the space between his hands as he set the tin down on the cool pavement. The ground was still damp from the rain that had fallen the night before. The sun was already picking up the mist from the road just behind the church building.
He pushed himself up and leaned against his cane as a clowder of cats padded over and sniffed at the food. He scratched at some of the furry stray's backs, watching as the tin emptied. A few soft little heads bumped or brushed against Scars' legs. He made sure to pet each of them. His dad would kill him if he tried to take any more home with him. He already had a cat at home, but he liked to stop at the church to pet the cats that usually hung about there.
He cooed at the babies. So cute! Even if they did kinda smell like back alley…
“Tck tck tck… come here baby… hello there..”
He said softly, clicking his tongue and holding out his hand to a small white cat that had climbed onto a box next to him. She seemed interested in the now nearly empty can of food.
“You're new… are you friendly? Want some food?”
He smiled. The cat just stared up at him. Scar shrugged and straightened up, taking the empty can and throwing it in the trash near the mouth of the alley. The clouds were still pinkish from the sun’s rising. He grabbed his backpack and made his way out of the alley and back onto the side of the road.
A soft sound accompanied his footsteps and the tapping of his cane as he walked down the road. He turned his head and slowed down, noticing the small white cat following him. She halted when his eyes landed on her.
“Huh,” he hums softly. “Well, hi there. Come back for that food did ‘ya?”
He crouches down once more and holds out his palm for the small cat to sniff. She approaches gracefully, and Scar smiles softly.
“Here kitty kitty…”
She finally moves forward, pressing her head under his palm. Scar rubs behind her ears. She purrs sweetly. Scar indulges her for a few seconds before standing again. She continues to trail behind his shoes.
He glances down at her occasionally as he walks, expecting the small cat to bolt into the bushes or get bored and wander off. But nope. She stays right there.
When Scar does finally get to school though, she trots off into a bush by the school gate. Scar pays her no mind and keeps walking.
Just another school day…
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Scar sees her again during lunch.
It's just a little white flash when he spots it. He drops his food tray next to his notebook on the grass where he was sitting, a patch of shade no one else ever bothers with. Well away from the clusters of people at the tables. He gets up, grabbing his cane and ducking around the corner.
“Hey…”
He hesitates. She looks back at him. Scar pauses. He watches as the small cat jumps up onto a nearby wall, strutting along slowly. Scar follows from her side, watching her with small interest as his cane crunched against the gravel; the sound feels distant with his focus on the cat.
Scar likes cats; always has. It's part of the reason he has Jellie. He remembers begging his parents to get him a kitten. When a small, baby gray and white cat had been found sleeping in the pews at church, his dad claimed it was an “act of god” and let him keep her. It was one of the few things he agreed with when his dad said those things. Jellie was absolutely an angel.
When the wall ends, he's right back at the sidewalk, into the classrooms. He didn't want to go back inside yet. The small white cat jumped from the wall, pouncing onto the other side. Scar stepped forward to look over the wall.
She was gone.
Huh. Scar stepped back, resting against his cane as he took that in. He sighs gently, not sure if he’s disappointed or just… bewildered. It feels like the world has snapped back into place, and now, he’s not sure where he fits in it. He slowly made his way back over to his little shady spot on the grass.
He didn't see her again for the rest of the day.
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“Merow.”
The small sound startled Scar, and he shot up. He was lying on his bed, watching something mind-numbing on his phone, when he heard it. He looked down at Jellie. She was sleeping against the pillows next to him. For a second, he thought he had imagined it.
“Merow.”
There it was again. Scar stood carefully; too fast and he might have fallen. He made his way over to the window in his room. It was a small room on the second story of his parents' house. He looked through and opened the window.
Four little white paws jumped through and onto his floor.
“Whoa- hey! You can't be in here.”
He panicked a little. His dad would kill him if he had another cat in the house. Jellie raised her head, her ears flicking as she noticed the other cat in the room. Scar made an attempt to grab her but missed. His knees hit the floor. He winced. Ok. Maybe not his best idea. He shifted and stayed on the floor. Ow.
“Scar? Are you alright?” He heard his mother call up the stairs. His mother always obsessed over his disability. She acted like he couldn't live on his own! Which… well, he was only seventeen. But still!
“I'm fine, Mom!” he called back down to her. He turned his head to glare at the small cat, who was now sitting on his bed, looking down at him. Jellie sauntered over to sniff at the newcomer. The white cat backed away.
He pushed himself up again, using a nearby chair as leverage. He glared at the small cat. All three, however, turned to the door as they all heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Scar's eyes widened. He shot forward, trying to grab the small white fur ball again, practically lunging at his bed. She ran off and hid under the frame, dodging his hands. He cursed under his breath before the sound of his door opening interrupted him.
“Are you okay, dear?” His mother asked, sticking her head in to see Scar lying on his stomach and half off the bed. Her voice dips into that soft, syrupy tone she saves for him when she thinks he’s about to fall over on himself.
Scar’s stomach tightens. He hates that tone. He’s not five.
“Y-yeah. Fine. Thanks, Mom.”
She sighs. “Just be careful, hun. And if you plan to walk around, please use your cane. I do hope you're still wearing your bracers, too. I don't want you hurting yourself.”
“Yeah, Mom. I'll be careful.”
She closes the door, and Scar waits till he can hear her footsteps downstairs before pushing himself up from the edge of the bed and standing. Her words always make him feel smaller than he is. Jellie has hopped off the mattress, choosing instead to sniff at the floor under his bed frame.
Scar crouched down, suddenly a lot more intent on catching this small white fur ball. But once again, peaking his head under where the small cat had disappeared, she was nowhere to be found. Scar let out a small groan and sat back on his knees on the floor. How much trouble would he get in for accidentally losing a cat in the house?
“Dang cat. I'm gonna get grounded over some alley living fur pest..”
He grumbled to himself.
“Excuse me?”
Scar shoots up, bumping his head against the bed frame. Covering the back of his head with his hand, he tries to yell, but a hand covers his mouth. He stares up at the random girl who's somehow managed to materialize in his room.
Long, pink hair dangles over her shoulders as she leans over to clamp her hand over Scar's mouth. She glares down at him, blue eyes looking surprisingly threatening.
“I'm going to move my hand now and you are not going to scream.”
Scar nods.
She slowly moves her hand from his mouth, and only then does he notice the prickling in his legs—pins and needles spreading from where he'd been folded on the floor too long. The girl straightens, and he forces himself to look up at her. She looks… ethereal. Almost glowing.
He winces as the tingling sharpens. Right—his legs.
With a hiss, Scar braces himself on the bed frame and pushes up, legs protesting the sudden movement. He can't take his eyes off of the intruder; The way the light seems to bend around her.
She steps forward to help him stand, the touch light and brief. It sends shivers up his arm. Not like static. Like his skin fell asleep.
Before he can question it, she’s already stepped back.
Her feet don't make a sound. None. And these floorboards complain under everything; his shoes, the cat, even dust if it settles wrong. But her? Silence. Like she isn’t touching the ground at all.
Scar swallows hard. “Who… who are you? And how did you get in my room?”
The girl tilts her head, studying him with an expression that looks judgmental and strategic at the same time. Her brows furrow lightly. Standing now, he could see that she was just a little shorter than he was.
“You’re taking this really well, by the way. Usually, people scream. Or throw something. Or both.”
Scar blinked, still trying to piece together the situation. “How do you know I won’t?” he shot back. His voice cracked halfway through, which did not help his intimidation efforts.
“Ooh, unpredictable. I like it.” She clasped her hands behind her back, rocking on her heels. “Still, bit rude to throw something at an angel, don’t you think?”
“A- sorry, a what now?” Scar asked, the word drying up halfway out of his mouth. The confusion hit him all at once, like he'd walked face-first into an invisible wall.
“Do you not know what an angel is? I thought you were the minister's kid. Wow, he did not teach you anything.”
“He- I know what an angel is.” Scar defended. His confusion started to crumble as defection took over. “That has nothing to do with why you're in my house!”
He whisper-yelled at the intruder. He didn't want to be loud enough to bring his mother back up the stairs.
“I’m here to help you. Y’know, fulfilling purpose, you are loved, finding God, and so on?” The pink-haired girl waved her hand in a circle as she spoke. To her, it was a lot clearer, apparently.
“I don't…” Scar thought for a moment. What did he want? Well, his dad wanted him to take over the church. Should he want that? The angel noticed his hesitance.
“What do you want out of your life, Scar?”
Scar didn't even notice the use of his name.
“....I haven't thought about it.”
The angel sighs. You could almost hear the eye roll. She steps back and takes a look around the small upper bedroom. Scars’ space. She was no help to him if he didn't know what he wanted.
“Then tell me when you do.”
She stepped back over to the window around the other side of his bed. The latch was left open in the scramble to find the small white cat. Speaking of…
He remembered the small creature, looking down to the edge of his bed again. All he found was Jellie staring at the open window on the other side of the room. When he looked up again, the girl was gone. Scar watched the window for a moment, expecting- what? A drop? And sound? Footsteps maybe? But then again…
An angel, huh?
He let out a breath. It wasn't that he didn't believe; he was just… skeptical. Yeah. Skeptical.