Unholyverse

~Part 19~

"Am I dead?"

"Do you feel dead?"

"I don't know." Frank opened his eyes, slowly. Nothing hurt. He was in a bed. White sheets. White walls. White room. Hospital, then. He looked up. The Cardinal was sitting by his bed. "Um," said Frank. "Hi?"

"Hello, Frank," the Cardinal smiled. "That was a very brave thing you did for us."

"I didn't do it for you," Frank scowled, then his eyes flew wide. "Gerard. Is he - ?"

"He's fine," the Cardinal said, soothingly. He touched Frank's shoulder and Frank sank back against the pillows. "They're all fine."

"They're all fine," Frank repeated, just to make sure. His eyes were heavy and his limbs felt fuzzy at the edges. "This is some quality morphine they've got me on," he slurred. "I love hospitals."

"You hate hospitals."

"I hate hospitals," Frank agreed. He rubbed his fingertips against the sheets. "If I'm not dead, can I assume the world's not getting barbecued right now?"

"You don't think God can take care of that Himself?"

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Evidently not. Otherwise he wouldn't need us, would he?"

The Cardinal hummed. Frank could see his hands folded up on his knee. "So you think He does? Need you."

"You're really annoying," Frank told him, crossing his feet under the sheets.

The Cardinal laughed. "I've heard that before."

"You're all annoying," Frank went on, gaining momentum. He was too stoned to really be annoyed, but stoned enough to tell it like it was. "Your whole fucking Church. I mean, you seem like an okay guy, don't get me wrong, and I know Gee's a big fan of yours. And you got rid of that demon asshole before he could roast me from the inside out, and I guess that makes me like you a little bit."

"Thanks," said the Cardinal in a dry, amused voice.

"Although mostly that was Mikey. You know I heard his voice? He can do that, you know. Brain stuff. I don't know what to call it. But he can."

The Cardinal inclined his head very slightly. "I know."

"And I know you want to help people," Frank rambled on. "Gerard does too. But all the decisions are made by these old dudes who don't live in the real world and are just trying to keep people under their control."

The Cardinal was quiet for a while. Then he said, "I think that's not untrue. But imagine what the Church would be like in forty years, if every priest ordained in the last ten was like Father Way."

"But they're not," Frank said stubbornly. "They're not."

"You sound very certain, so I suppose you must be right," the Cardinal said, in that annoying superior placatory tone, but Frank didn't have the energy to call him on it. The Cardinal said, "You really have an extraordinary capacity for withstanding-"

"Things that hurt, I know," Frank interrupted. He didn't want to talk about it. Instead he asked, "Why do they hate us so much? Demons, or whatever. I mean, we never did anything to them, right? What is it about us that makes them so mad?"

The Cardinal considered for a long time before answering, "Forgiveness."

"Hmm," said Frank. He was sure that was super-profound, but he was too stoned to appreciate it. "What, that we can be forgiven, or we can forgive each other?"

"Both," the Cardinal said. Then, "You know he can't work with you anymore. Not from inside the Church."

Frank physically flinched, he couldn't help it. "Why not, because we make you look bad? You think what we do is less worthwhile because we're not fucking monks or whatever?"