Fake Fan Fiction ❯ Redefining Heaven ❯ Exorcising Demons ( Chapter 3 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

By: Irish

Disclaimer: Fake and all characters relating to Fake are not my intellectually property, I just borrow them. All new characters are the sole property of me and cannot be used in anyway with out my expressed written consent. Don't sue, I'm poor.

Redefining Heaven

Chapter Three: Exorcising Demons

By: Irish

Rated R

Warnings: Explicit Language, graphic violence, adult situations

~*~*~*~*~

Dee wasn't positive where the Chapel was here, but after directions from an orderly, he found it in short order, the signs with the arrows and a picture of a church on them helped too. He paused outside the double doors, not able to see in through the faux stained glass slats on the doors. After a slow deep breath, he was finally able to grasp the door handle, letting all his anger drain from him as he exhaled. Being angry at God never solved anything, it just made you deaf to what he was trying to tell you, at least that was what Penguin always said.

The Chapel was dimly lit, but actually rather large for a hospital chapel. The denominational indicators had been toned down a bit, Dee could tell, so that no one would get their panties in a wad, but there was still a small decanter of holy water screwed to the wall near the door. Dee dipped his fingers into the cool water, making the vague motion of dropping to one knee as he crossed himself. Ritual complete, he stepped further into the sanctuary, looking around. There were two or three other people with their heads bowed, but it was blessedly silent. Dee moved quietly down the center aisle and slipped into the second row of pews, easing down the kneeler before kneeling upon it. He didn't clasp his hands, just resting them on the pew in front of him, his rosary looped lightly around his left hand.

He stared up at the cross that hung over a small alter for long moments. It too had been de-factionalized, and was just a plain cross, not a crucifix. There was a small stained glass window just behind it, a circle divided in four sections. There were no patterns of saints or biblical stories, just a palate of colors in sort of a sunburst pattern. It was dark outside, but the colored panes still had a soft silvery glow to them. The moon had to be near full. Slowly, Dee's head lowered, his eyes closing with concentration.

“Hail Mary, full of grace,” he whispered, he always chose to address Mary first.

`the lord is with thee, blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus Christ. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and in the hour of our death.' Dee continued silently. `Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will...' he paused, taking a slow breath, a very slow breath, as he felt anger and despair well up in him again, a rebellious little voice asking what God's will had ever gotten him.

“No demon can stand in the presence of the Lord.” He whispered. `The devil flees from the light, and there is light in me. Evil can have no power over a righteous soul, and my soul is righteous.' Dee blinked rapidly as tears wet his lashes. Penguin had taught him those words back when he still thought it was Mary's Fruit of the Loom's that were blessed.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Dee, what's wrong with you, boy.” Despite the abruptness of the words, they were tender. Penguin was always like that, firm but tender.

“I think I need a... a...” Dee fumbled for the word, wiping at his eyes with small grubby hands. “Extra... extra...” Damnit what was that word? “Extraschisim?”

Mother Maria lowered herself to the attic floor next to the boy, wondering how in the heavens he knew what an exorcism was when he still needed Velcro shoes.

“Do you mean exorcism, Dee?”

He nodded, his pretty green eyes wide and glistening with tears that he had quickly hidden when he heard her behind him.

“And why my dear, do you think need one of those?” The Mother Superior tired to hide and amused smile, knowing Dee would clam up if he thought he was being made fun of. Mother Maria often herself thought, when Dee was in one of his fits, that possession was the only explanation for how he could go from a sweet, gap-toothed child helping one of the younger children with the flap of their coveralls to a hitting, cussing, screaming little monster in the blink of an eye. But her thoughts on this had always been in jest. Little Dee was in earnest.

“Because... sometimes I think bad things... and I'm always being bad. I don't mean to be bad.” He looked up at her, face pleading for understanding and forgiveness.

“I know you don't Dee. I know you don't mean to be bad.” And it was true, Mother was never one to say things just for the sake of making someone feel better, but she was pretty sure Dee's `bad' incidents were a byproduct of his situation, and no real fault of his own. “What bad things to you think?” She reached out and gently caressed his midnight hair, moving slow. He wouldn't always let himself be touched.

“Sometimes, a voice inside me says God doesn't love me, because I'm bad.” Dee had looked away from her again, out the skylight at the church across the street.

“God loves you, even when you're bad, Dee, no matter what.”

“I know. You tell me that all the time, and so do the Sisters, and Father Flannery...” he sighed deeply, far too deep for a child of four.

“But what?”

“But I think what they really mean is that God has to love me, because no one else does. I get angry at God.”

Mother pursed her lips, also turning her eyes out the window. Dee was the most challenging child in the whole orphanage as far as she was concerned. Not behavior wise, but because of this, this precociousness and nearly uncanny ability to cut through the bull shit and see to the truth of people. He was right, about the Sisters and Father Flannery, there wasn't a doubt in Mother Maria's mind. When they said God loved Dee, they meant that God had better love Dee, because there wasn't any mortal who could handle him.

“So, you think you need an exorcism because you are bad and get angry at God?”

Dee nodded, glancing at her. “I saw it, at the movies, there was this girl, and she did lots of bad stuff and a priest did an extraschism, because it was the devil.” Dee said `devil' with a mixture of impressed awe and fear, as though he half wished he had the balls to be that bad.

“I see.” She was quiet a moment. “Well dear, I doubt you're possessed by the devil. You have your moments, but stealing candy from the corner store and dumping your dinner on the floor doesn't quite seem...” she looked for the right word “worthy of the devil. And as far as being angry at God... Dee, there are some people in this world who have every right to be mad with God. There are some people who meet hardship at every turn. Its okay to feel those things sometimes, but real faith is learning to let go of that anger, and trust that God would never want to hurt his children just to see them suffer. The problem with being angry at God, is that when you're angry at him, your head is so loud that your soul misses what he's trying to tell you.”

Dee blinked up at her, hugging his knees too his chest, then looking out the window again. “But sometimes... the voice is so loud, and I'm so angry... I just, I just... I want to kick god right in the nuts! And I can't make it stop. But I don't want to be mad at God, especially since he had to love me.”

“No matter what anyone else tells you, God doesn't haveto love you Dee, he wants to. He wants to love you. And he isn't the only one. When you look, there are always people who love you.”

“So, what about the voice?” Dee wanted to move on, that was clear. How could a four year old not want to admit vulnerability? No child should have to feel like her Dee did, like so many of her kids did.

“I will teach you a little prayer.” Mother Maria said decisively. She had never taken the ritual of exorcism serious enough to read the rites, but she had an idea of how it was supposed to sound, at least as much of one as Dee must have from that stupid movie. “When you hear that voice in you, telling you to do bad things, saying bad things about you, or making you angry at God, you just say `No demon can stand in the presence of the Lord. The Devil flees from the light and there is light in me. Evil has no power over a righteous soul, and my soul is righteous'.”

Dee looked at her skeptically. Apparently it wasn't as theatrical as `the power of Christ compels you'. “Um...”

“Well, its the Lord's truth Dee. No demon can stand in the presence of the Lord, and the bible says all who speak the Lord's name have the power to cast out demons.”

“The bible really says that?” His interest piqued a bit.

“Yes it does. Now say it with me. No demon can stand in the presence of the lord...” she paused, waiting for Dee to repeat after her.

“No demon can stand in the presence of the lord.” Dee said, his small voice seeming to ring more true then her own.

“The Devil flees from the light, and there is light in me. Evil has no power over the righteous soul, and my soul is righteous.”

“You just say those words, Dee, and you will cast out your demons.” Mother reach out and patted his back gently, wishing it were that easy to cast out the more sinister demons, the ones that had nothing to do with Evil and everything to do with circumstance.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Dee repeated those words in his head several times before his anger was truly gone. He knew now that wasn't the voice of a demon, just the voice of doubt. He took another deep breath, slowly lowering his head to rest against the back of the pew in front of him, his hands on either side.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.” Dee whispered, starting from the top. `Blessed thou art among women, and blessed is the fruit of you womb Jesus Christ, Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and in the hour of our death, Amen.' He paused a moment before he started the Lord Prayer again, wanting to be sure there was no lingering doubt in him. It unnerved him when he realized he couldn't be sure.

“Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name.” he continued anyway, he was too cramped for time to work on his relationship with the Father at the moment. `Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us, like the sonofabitch who ran over my son.' Dee sighed, pretty sure saying `sonofabitch' during prayer was a little bit blasphemous, but he decided to let it stand. “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom the power and the glory, forever and ever, amen.” He finished the rest in a whisper, hoping actually having to say the words would keep at bay any more torettes-esq sacrilegious outburst. After another long moment of reflection, he lifted his head to fix his eyes on the cross.

`Mary, my Mother, I beg you to intercess on my behalf, petition the Lord for me, that my son will not die. I know there is no more that I can give to Him then that which I already have, and no bargain I could make would be worthy of his notice. But as a mother and a parent, please, have mercy on my son.' Dee felt tears in his eyes and cleared his throat, blinking rapidly.`I know I am not the image of Christ that we are all called to be, but I have always loved God, and in my broken way sought to serve him. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us.' He paused, his hands now clasped, fingers laced together as he gazed at the cross. He dropped his head to rest on his clasped hands, closing his eyes once more as he tried to picture Bikky, minus a leg, to see it in his head, to picture a prosthetic instead. His minds eye watched his imaginary child playing as he usually did, shooting hoops, roller blading, chasing with his friends, rough housing. He could see it, all of it, with a mechanical leg in place, and to his mind Bikky looked... well, like Bikky, happy, in constant motion, not to mention the attitude and ego. It made him smile, just a little bit, to see the picture of his son tussling with him on the living room floor, being a little too rough like always, and perpetually foul-mouthed.

He wiped those images away slowly, letting them fade, a happy active boy, sans a leg, was still a happy active boy. He let his mind clear completely before he conjured the future of the other option. Bikky, in one piece, but with a mostly dead leg. Having a hard time keeping up with his friends just walking, using arm canes to keep his balance. Roller blading was out of the question, and so was basketball. It caused him pain too, Dee could see it in the set of his face. Bikky, just a shadow of his normal self. No spirit, no life to him.

Maybe they were just the images he wanted to see, because he knew he and Ryo had really already agreed to what was going to happen, maybe it was self delusion. But Dee had always trusted his gut, and it never lead him astray to date. Of course, all of this was assuming Bikky didn't wake up drooling and pissing himself.

Dee lifted his head again, one last prayer, one last person to petition before he could get off his damned knees.

`St. Jude, glorious Apostle, faithful servant and friend of Jesus, the name of the traitor has caused you to be forgotten by many, but the true Church invokes you universally as the Patron of things despaired of; pray for me, that finally I may receive the consolations and the intercession of Heaven in all my necessities, tribulations, and sufferings, particularly the health and well being of my son. Help him heal and grow into the man I know he will be. Watch over him St. Jude, aid him in his hour of need. I promise you, O blessed St. Jude, to be ever mindful of this great favor, and I will never cease to honor you as my special and powerful patron and to do all in my power to encourage devotion to you. Amen.'

Dee crossed himself, and kissed the cross of his rosary before he stood, both knees popping. He paused in the aisle to gaze at the cross once more, touching the small bump under his shirt that was his St. Jude's medallion and crucifix, before he backed slowly out of the chapel, going to find Ryo.

Author's Note: Well, another chapter that underlines my fascination with Dee's faith. Anyway, I am a little sad, I haven't gotten too many reviews, and I know people are reading, because on FFN it tells me how many hits my story has had. Less then 10% of people reading are reviewing, and that's sad . I have been percolating a one shot lemon in my head for a while, so you all may want to look for that on my site and on MM.