Chapter One

As the full moon began to rise over the trees, its light reflected upon the newly fallen snow to envelope the neighborhood in an eerie glow. 

Nearby, inside a dark car, one lone occupant continued their silent vigil; thankful the snow-covered shrubbery provided the perfect camouflage, shielding them from the house they were observing.

The occupant had been parked in the same spot for nearly two hours and had witnessed several people, very loved family members, gathering in the house for the traditional Christmas Even dinner.

The blinking of the Christmas lights drew his attention to the front window of the house where he knew the tree was located, as it had been for the past twenty years.

The noise of an approaching sports car engine made him pick up the binoculars sitting next to him. A slight smile played across his face as he recognized the blue stealth.

'Always late, aren't you kid. Glad to see some things never change."

He watched as Peter Caine climbed out of the sports car and popped open the trunk. At that moment Kelly Blaisdell came running out of the house to greet her brother. The man was grateful that he had lowered the car window so he could hear their conversation.

"It's about time you got here, Peter." She hugged her brother, who quickly tried to close the trunk lid. "Too late," Kelly laughed. "I know you got me something."

"You still can't open it until tomorrow." Peter lifted the lid. "You can help me carry this stuff in the house." He pulled out several wrapped packages as his sister retrieved the rest. After closing the trunk, he noticed Kelly was staring up at the stars. "Making a wish? I thought you outgrew that years ago."

Kelly quickly wiped her eyes.

"Kel, what's wrong?"

"I..." She paused before looking up at the moon, tears started flowing down her face. "I've been holding it in all day. I didn't want mom to get upset but I was hoping maybe tonight..." She started crying. "I miss him, Peter."

Her brother dropped the packages on the car and gathered his sister in his arms. "Kelly, he's still alive. We have to believe that. Don't give up."

"It's been eighteen months," Kelly cried. "Why haven’t we heard anything? If Dad is alive like you claim, then why has he abandoned us? Doesn't he know how much we need and miss him?"

"He knows." Peter said, barely above a whisper. The words were unconvincing, even to the eavesdropper. Peter released Kelly and wiped her tears with his gloved hand. "We better go inside or Mom will wonder what happened to us." He picked up the packages again and started walking towards the house.

"Peter,"

"What, shorty?"

"You don't have to pretend with me," Kelly kicked up the snow with her boots managing to keep pace with her brother. "I'm not a child anymore, you don't have to protect me. I know you miss Dad. I can see it in your eyes and don't think you have fooled mom with your bravery act either. She knows."

Peter shook his head. "How did you grow up without me noticing?"

"Well, you're older and you definitely haven't grown up." With those last words, Kelly rushed past her brother and into the big house.

"Sisters." Peter muttered under his breath. He glanced back at the house, and then glanced upwards, repeating the same gesture he had previously teased Kelly.  "Paul, why are you doing this?” The words were more of a plea than a question. “Don’t you know how much you’re hurting the family, especially mom? She doesn’t deserve this and neither do the girls.”

With those last words, Peter followed his sister into the house, and closed the door behind him, leaving the eavesdropper alone with his thoughts.

The man in the car blinked back his own tears before he grabbed the cellular phone and dialed a number. "No interruptions," he began after the voice on the other end answered. "I wanted to see everyone one last time. Take care of them for me, Kermit."

"Paul, don't do this." Kermit's voice screamed through the receiver. "The family needs you. We need you."

Blaisdell closed his eyes. "I'm a liability and you know it. As long as I'm alive my enemies will use those I love to get to me." He sighed deeply. "It's the only way."

"No, Paul. I..."

The former Captain of the 101st ended the conversation by closing the flip phone.  He started the car, driving down the long dark street, unaware that it had started snowing.

TBC

Chapter Two

Driving across the icy bridge, Paul turned off the headlights and pressed his foot down harder on the accelerator. A shadow ran across the road and Blaisdell slammed on the brakes to keep from hitting the figure. The car skidded out of control and came to a crashing halt as the grill smashed into the bridge's guard rail.

Blaisdell slowly opened the car door and climbed out of the vehicle. He examined the damage as smoke came up from under the hood.

Footsteps caught his attention. Pulling out his gun, Blaisdell quickly turned around and pointed the weapon at the man in front of him.

"Easy friend." The man raised his hands in the air.

"You're the man who ran out in front of me," Paul waved the stranger against the side of the bridge with his gun. "What were you trying to do, get yourself killed?"

"No," The man answered as he stared straight into Paul's eyes. "I was trying to stop you from killing yourself."

"How could you have known…”  Blaisdell's voice trailed off. He lifted his head and angrily returned the stare. "Why am I talking to you? I owe you no explanation."

"Apparently you don’t realize how ending your life will affect both your family and your friends.” The man walked closer to Blaisdell until there were only inches between the two men. "Do you really care?"

"What business is it of yours? You don't know me from John Doe." Paul kept the weapon pointed at the man. This stranger knew too much about his life and it unnerved him. "You don't know what you're talking about?"

"You're Paul Blaisdell. You think your family would be better off if you never lived." The stranger began. "How is that for starters?"

Paul's mouth dropped open until a thought came to mind. Only one explanation could explain how this stranger knew his true intention. "Kermit sent you, didn't he?"

"I don't know Kermit," the man admitted.

Paul tilted his head back slightly. Suspicion ran rampant. "Then tell me why you are here?"

The man smiled slightly as he touched Paul's shoulder and squeezed it. "You have no idea how much you have affected people's lives over the years. Do you know what their lives would have been like if you had not interfered in them?"

"I know they would be better off if I had never lived," Paul said bitterly as he remembered the attack on his family almost two years ago by two members of the Falcon's Wing. He had relived the attack every day since it had happened. Remembered hearing his wife and two daughters’ terrified screams as bullets ripped though the French Doors, not to mention seeing his son diving over the table, still sent shivers down his back.

"Paul Blaisdell, my name is Charles." The stranger introduced himself as he began to walk Blaisdell across the bridge. "I'm going to grant your wish," He waved his hand and the snow suddenly stopped. "You never lived."

As the two men crossed the bridge a police car came rushing up the street to meet them.

TBC

Chapter Three

The patrol car slowly came to a stop. Two officers climbed out of the vehicle and approached the two men.

"Is that your car?" The driver of the police car asked, pulling out his flashlight to see the two men.  After being assured that neither of the men was hurt, the police officer turned his attention to the wrecked car. "What happened?"

Charles briefly explained.

"We have to return to the precinct, we'll drop you gentlemen off there and you can call a taxi to pick you up to take you to where ever you need to go." The officer opened one of the back doors of the patrol car and waited until the two men were inside before he closed it.

Paul leaned closer to the front seat. "Which precinct?"

The second officer turned his head slightly. "The 101st, why?"

Blaisdell sank back into the seat. "Captain Simms' precinct. I know her."

The officers glanced at each other before turning around to look at Blaisdell. "Captain Simms? Who's that?"

"Karen Simms, your Captain." Blaisdell answered. He had always made it a point to know all the officers who worked under him. It made the daily operations of the precinct run smoother. Simms, on the other hand, was a different Captain. He respected her and knew she was the right person to replace him.

As the car did a U-turn and headed towards its destination, the second officer sighed. "I can hear the Chief yelling now."

------------------

As Paul and Charles walked into the precinct, several police officers were putting the final touches on some of the Christmas decorations. Blaisdell stopped at the front desk waiting for the Desk Sergeant to make eye contact.

John Broderick glanced up from the daily reports he was working on to see who was standing in front of him. Much to Blaisdell's dismay, the Desk Sergeant simply asked. "What can I do for you?"

"Well John, I know it's been almost two years but at least I expected a friendly, Hi Blaisdell or Captain."

Broderick stared at the man. "Captain? Which precinct? I don't know you. Are you from out of state? Do you need to see our Captain?"

Blaisdell was so startled by Broderick's comment, his mouth dropped open. "What is this, a joke?" He glanced around the bullpen. "Where's Frank?"

"Frank who?" Broderick was getting tired of this man and his twenty questions.

"Frank who?" Blaisdell almost screamed. When several heads turned in his direction he lowered his voice. "Frank Strenlich, the Chief of Detectives, that Frank."

Broderick angrily dropped his pen and glared hard at Blaisdell. "Look friend, Frank Strenlich was busted down to foot patrolman twenty months ago. If it hadn’t been for myself and a few other cops speaking up for him, he would have been fired.”

“Fired? For what?”

“If you were a police Captain as you claim then you would have already known what happened to Strenlich.” The Desk Sergeant sighed. "Since it's the holiday season, I'm not going to book you for wasting my time. Do us both a favor and go home. And ease off on the eggnog."

Charles softly pulled on Blaisdell's coat sleeve. "Come on Paul. You're wasting this fine gentlemen's time."

Paul started to protest but thought better of it. As the two men walked outside and down the steps, he waited until the two of them were alone in the parking lot before he spoke. "What's the matter with that man? He acts like he's never laid eyes on me before. I've known him almost fifteen years and what's the deal with Frank?"

"Mr. Broderick speaks the truth, he does not know you." Seeing the shocked expression on the other man's face, Charles continued. "You never lived so how could he have known you?"

"I'm dreaming," Paul raised his hands in the air. "I must have hit my head on the steering wheel when the car hit the guard rail and now I'm hallucinating. That's the only logical explanation for all this madness."

"I am only granting your wish, am I not?"

"Wish? What are you a genie? Where's your bottle?" Paul laughed out loud. "Nothing personal but if I wanted a genie I would have asked for Barbara Eden."

"I'm not a genie, my friend." Charles patted Blaisdell across the back as he looked up into the night sky. "I'm an angel."

"Yeah right," Paul started laughing harder. He felt the hand still on his back. "So does this mean I'm touched by an angel."

"The tv show?" It was Charles turn to laugh. A shooting star suddenly shot across the sky. "Someone else just got their wings." He commented confidently with a heartfelt gasp. "One day it will be my turn, maybe after this little adventure."

Paul rolled his eyes. He was in the presence of a crackpot. Deciding to leave the so-called angel to his holy mission, Blaisdell started to move but car lights caught his attention. He watched as another patrol car pulled into a parking space and the officer stepped out of the car. Paul recognized him immediately, only he was in a uniform. "Frank?"

Strenlich stepped up on the curb and gave Blaisdell one of the most threatening glares Paul had ever seen. "Yeah, who are you, my ex-wife's lawyer?" He reached out and grabbed Blaisdell by the lapel. "Isn't working double overtime good enough for her?" He suddenly released the older man. "Or are you another one of the Captain's so-called friends? I'm shocked the Captain would have you attack me in front of the precinct, possible witnesses didn't scare you?"

"Frank, it's me, Paul. What's wrong with you?" Blaisdell tried to find some recognition in Frank's eyes. "I thought you and the Captain came to an understanding at least that's what Kermit told me."

"Kermit? What are you, some kind of escaped nut? This is all I need." Frank shouted over his shoulder as he climbed the steps to the precinct. "Stupid wacko talking to a green puppet."

Paul stared at the precinct's door almost wishing them to open. "I don't understand." He turned to Charles hoping the man had an explanation. "Can you tell me what just happened? That man is one of the closest friends I have and he just brushed me off as if I were the flu."

"Let's walk to that little corner restaurant. I know you're hungry." Charles suggested. As they began to walk away from the precinct, the angel continued. "Chief Frank Strenlich found out that Captain Stiles was taking bribes and went to Commissioner Cooper with the information. What Strenlich didn't know, Cooper was in on the deal as well, so in retaliation they tried to coerce Strenlich off the force, but the man didn't back down.  Instead of letting them beat him, Frank fought back. With nobody in office to help him, Strenlich was busted down to foot patrol. Some reward, huh?"

"I don't understand any of this. Cooper and Stiles were both arrested for murder." Paul said. "I was there when they went to trial."

"You were never there, Paul." Charles stated. "Remember you were never born. Stiles never commanded the SWAT team. His friend Cooper gave him the precinct, a big salary, perks and a group of dirty cops who watched his back."

"What happened to Blake, Skalany, Powell and the others?"

"Let's finish this conversation over dinner, shall we." The two continued their walk to the restaurant.

TBC

Chapter Five

The blind woman was extremely nervous in the crowded restaurant.  Loud noises always made her uncomfortable. "Mike, let's go home. I don't like it here. I'm afraid."

"Annie, the food here is great. At least eat something since I'm paying a small fortune for this meal." Mike West angrily told his wife.  He held his glass up for the waiter to fill it with wine. "I'm getting tired of being stuck in that dreary old house all day and I'm sick of your whining. If you don't watch yourself I'm going to leave you for good. It would be justice if I did, that way you would learn how much you've made my life a living hell."

“Mike, I’m trying the best I….”

“Try harder,” her husband growled, and then turned his anger on the waiter. “If you think hanging around our table like some lap dog is going to get you a bigger tip then you are gravely mistaken."

“Mike, please,” Annie pleaded in an embarrassing whisper.  Her husband’s rude behavior had become the subject of conversation from nearby tables.  She turned her head, knowing someone stood by his side.

"Annie, it's me, Paul."

"Paul? Paul, who?" The woman asked, trying to recall the name. "I'm sorry, but I don't know anyone named Paul. I think you have me mistaken for someone else."  Paul noticed her hands were trembling.  "Mike, please take me home."

Blaisdell couldn't believe what he was witnessing.  Annie, his beloved wife, was spirited, generous and certainly not helpless. Never in a million years would she have taken the abuse Mike West was throwing at her.  Well, if Annie wouldn’t stand up for herself, then he wouldn’t hesitate to come to her rescue.  "West, what are you doing out of that mental home? If you think I'm going to let you harm my wife again, you're dead wrong."

"Your wife? Annie has been married to me for years." West yelled at the top of his lungs. "Get out of here, you nut, before I call the police."

"Go ahead." Paul challenged him as he gently took Annie by the arm and pulled her to her feet. "I'm taking you home, babe."

"Let me go," Annie screamed hysterically. "Somebody help me."

Shocked, Paul released her and ran out of the restaurant.

“I tried to warn you, Paul,” Charles said, chasing after him. "Annie was never your wife remember..."

"I know, I was never born," Paul finished the already worn out phrase that Charles kept repeating.  He glared at the angel. "Just tell me how my beautiful Annie ended up with that sack of..."

"Watch the language," Charles warned him. He sighed. "I will begin at the beginning..."

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"He shoved you into the street, Annie." Paul tried to protest, but more people began to file out of the restaurant. The commotion caused several small businesses to open their doors to see what was happening.

Several men began to march on Blaisdell. "What's the matter with you buddy?" One shouted at him.

"How about hitting me, I'm not blind." Another said.

"Assaulting a blind woman is about as low as you can go." Still another man remarked. He balled his hand into a fist and began to punch it into his open palm. "I want to see you crawl."

Charles managed to grab Blaisdell by the arm. "We have to leave now before they form into a mob." Paul tried to protest but Charles was too persistent, pulling at his coat while the two ran down a dark alley and through several dark streets and out into an open courtyard. There they stayed to catch their breaths.

Paul leaned against a brick building, his head lowered below his shoulders. For several minutes he stayed that way. "Annie would never behave that way. She's too independent, free spirited, and opinionated. She's nothing like she was back there."

Charles listened for any sound or movement of the crowd that had been chasing them, satisfied that they were safe; he began the tale of Annie's life. "You recall what I told you about Steadman?" Paul nodded and the angel continued. "With

Steadman's death and you obviously never born, Annie's life was altered. You two never met on that famous blind date set up by Steadman, nor would she leave Mike West for anyone after her parents were killed in a car crash. Six months later, her sister was killed. Annie never fully recovered. She had no one to turn to for support or a way to express her grief. West manipulated her life into what she is today."

"Annie's parents are still alive."

"They would have been if you had lived. You always paid for them to fly in for the holidays. Since that never happened," Charles sighed heavily, "her parents were killed on a Christmas Eve as they traveled on an icy road. They hit a patch of ice and skidded off a steep incline to their deaths."

"Oh God, poor Annie." Paul whispered. "She doesn't deserve a life like this. What about the girls? Carolyn and Kelly, they would..."

"Paul, how could your daughters live if you did not…"

"You made your point, Charles. I want to live. I changed my mind. I was wrong. I want everything to go back to the way it was. " Blaisdell reached out for the angel, who mysteriously retreated out of his reach. It suddenly dawned on Blaisdell that maybe it was too late to change the angel's mind. "Please Charles, put everything back to normal."

The angel lowered his head but remained silent.

"Kermit, Frank, Annie and...." He ran a nervous hand through his hair. "My girls, they don't need to suffer for something...," Paul went silent and began pacing anxiously back and forth trying to gather his thoughts. "Peter, for some reason you keep changing the subject every time I bring up his name. Why is that?"

The Angel began walking toward the woods. "Follow me and prepare yourself."

TBC

Chapter Six

Heavy footsteps stomping deep in the snow were the only sounds that could be heard as the two men walked through the woods that Paul never realized were there. They had walked for ten minutes until a clearing came into view.

Paul stopped to look at the clearing, wondering where they were as Charles began to climb a small hill. Blaisdell watched as the angel reached the top and then appeared to be looking down below. Curiosity got the better of the former police captain.  He quickly climbed the small hill to see what Charles was viewing. Paul was surprised to see a small cemetery, surrounded by an iron fence.

The two scrambled down the hill and stood at the entrance of the cemetery with neither man wanting to enter. Two Guardian Angels statues stood by the entrance as if they were guarding the final resting place of those that were buried inside.

A cold breeze suddenly blew making Paul tighten his coat around him before buttoning it. "Charles..."

"Shhhhhhhh..." The Angel held up his hand to silence the man. He turned back to Blaisdell and raised a finger to his lips. "We need to get out of sight. Someone is coming."

Before Paul could respond, Charles grabbed his arm and pulled him behind some trees just as a dark silhouette came into view. He strained his eyes trying to identify the figure. Recognizing the silhouette’s movement, Paul realized the visitor was Kermit.

Blaisdell moved to greet his friend but the angel placed a firm grip on his arm to hold him in place. "Kermit doesn’t know you. If you interfered now, here especially, he would not hesitate to kill you.  Say nothing, just watch."

Thankful for the moonlight, Charles and Paul silently observed Griffin entering the small cemetery through the iron gates. The man made no sound as he slowly walked to a stone marker. Kermit bent down, and placed a bouquet of flowers on the grave. He brought his hand to his eyes, removed the familiar sunglasses and wiped his eyes. After speaking a few unheard words, the glasses were returned and as quickly as he appeared, Kermit was gone.

Paul waited a moment then entered the cemetery and walked to the marker Kermit had visited.  The name engraved on the marker was too dark to read. He heard a noise, turned and found the angel moving towards another section of the cemetery. He quickly followed.

Charles turned, deliberately blocking Paul from approaching. The angel stood steadfast, reminding Blaisdell of a soldier’s military posture ‘at attention’. "What are you trying to hide from me, Charles?"

"I thought you were interested in the reason behind Kermit’s visits."

"Yeah?" Paul tried to look over Charles' shoulder but the angel continued to block his view.

“Kermit came to visit his brother, David. This is a special cemetery, Paul. Only children are buried here.”

Paul Blaisdell turned, and started reading the markers where the moonlight touched.  Each marker bore the name of a child. None had lived past the age of seventeen.

“Why did you bring me here?” Paul asked. “I never knew Kermit’s brother, David. What child….” He suddenly remembered Charles warning of ‘preparing himself’, but for what reason? Then it dawned on him.  He lifted his head and whispered. "Peter."

Once the name was spoken, Charles stepped away to reveal a tombstone.  Two words chiseled in stone released a scream from Blaisdell's throat.

In a cold hard slab of stone was carved the name of his son.                                                                       

Paul stumbled, crawling to the grave on all fours. "No. It can't be. It's impossible." He started clawing at the snow, digging around the grave marker.

Charles watched the grief stricken man. "Peter Caine was murdered by his foster father three months before his fifteenth birthday. The foster father was a violent man who vented his anger out on a boy who was so withdrawn that he would not fight back." He reached down and touched Blaisdell’s shoulder, who twisted out of the angel’s reach.  "Paul, it’s time to go."

"No!" Blaisdell cried out, sobbing uncontrollably while he cleared the snow from the base of the marker.  “This is wrong,” he declared, reading the death date. “Peter wasn’t killed on this day because he was with us! I remember the day, the hour, the date when we took him in. There’s no way my son is buried here.”

“Paul, you were not….”

“Stop it, Charles. I’m sick of this sick twisted game.” Blaisdell shouted. He pointed at the marker. “Peter was spending his weekends with us long before this date. I know because I picked him up at the orphanage myself. Annie and I…."

"Paul, you never lived. Peter never had the chance to grow up in the loving home that you and Annie provided him. You never met and married Annie,” Charles said, watching Paul shake his head in denial.  “Yes, it’s true, Paul. Everything I have told you about your family and friends is true.  Peter lived through the temple's destruction and was sent to the orphanage, but because you were never born, you never gave that lecture for Peter to hear.  His life was altered without you in it.”

Paul stared at the tombstone, but remained silent. His thoughts drifting back and forth to each life Charles had shown him and how they now lived, or in his son’s case – had died.

“Life is a precious gift. Not given on a whim. When one believes their life means nothing, they do not realize the consequences of their beliefs.” Charles heaved a long frustrated sigh.  “Your wife, children, friends, and co-workers’ lives were altered because you never lived. Had you only considered their needs first, instead of your own, you would have realized how much you meant to them.”

“I know that now, Charles. I was wrong. So wrong.” Paul glanced once again at the tombstone, and shivered, his son had been murdered, never to know the love of a family.

Murdered! His thoughts quickly turned to Kermit, and the horrible existence his best friend now lived.  Griffin, the one person he had always depended upon was now a hired killer.  Killing anyone if the price was right.  Would Annie be safe? No, not while she remained married to West.  Even his beautiful daughters…no, they never lived because he never lived.  Then there was Frank, loyal friend and confidant – destroyed because he remained faithful to his beliefs in the system.

“I want to live. I want my family. Send me back. I want to live." He turned, and discovered he was alone in the cemetery.  "Charles." He got to his feet and began searching for the missing angel. "Charles, don't leave me like this. I want to live."

What seemed like hours, but only minutes, Paul tried in vain to find his lost companion. Falling down from exhaustion, Paul found himself at the feet of one of the Guardian Angel statues. "Please, I want to live." He pleaded to the statue as he buried his head into his chest and closed his eyes. "I want to live."

Paul knew the temperature was dropping but he didn't care. He would rather freeze to death than to live knowing what had happened to his family and friends without him in their lives.

He didn't notice the moon had gone behind the clouds and snow had began to fall.

TBC

Chapter Seven

"Paul?"

A hand grasped his shoulder, forcing Blaisdell to open his eyes. He blinked twice in disbelief. He was in his own car.  How? He didn’t remember leaving the cemetery.

"Paul, are you alright?"

Recognizing the voice, Blaisdell looked up and found Griffin standing outside his car door.  He checked his surroundings, searching for an explanation. “How did I get here? Where’s Charles?”

"Charles?" Kermit gave Blaisdell a questioning look before glancing over the vehicle’s roof, searching for the so-called missing person.  Careful of the icy asphalt, Griffin walked to his Corvair, opened the glove compartment and took out a flashlight. He then did a quick search of the area. Satisfied, he returned to the wrecked vehicle. "Paul, there's nobody out here." He leaned inside the opened car door and shined the light in his friend's face.

Raising his hand to shield his eyes, Paul angrily shoved Kermit's hand away with his free hand. "What are you doing?"

"Just checking," Kermit muttered under his breath. He knew Blaisdell wasn't an alcoholic but the last conversation he had with his friend made him think alcohol might have played more of a role in Paul's decision to kill himself than Blaisdell's own choice. Griffin was disappointed when he didn't find evidence to back up his theory.

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