I wanted to start a fic (chaptered this time) that will end up being Silas/Sophie, trying to keep it as canon as possible and without ignoring the movie facts. Also, this is written according to the movie version, not the book. I'd read the book a couple of years ago, so I can't remember every little detail. It's simpler for me to base this on the movie. I hope you enjoy!

Warning: I am not a native speaker and… unless one's writing Harry Potter, getting a beta is close to impossible. So I have none.


It was another clouded morning. The detective finished writing the last form and sat back. Nothing was over yet. In fact, everything was about to begin. Again. Fache had such reputation for a reason.

Sophie had been a part of this; she was involved too much for her own good. That was what Fache kept telling himself to justify his actions. He'd already filled the forms, and all he had to wait for were the few needed signatures. Then he'd have all he needed to bring her in for questioning.

He'd been wrong about Langton and Neveu, but after examining all the facts from a different point of view, he saw that although neither of them was to blame, they could both definitely provide some answers. And he had a tone of unanswered questions… Langton was gone now, he'd left France and the "Bull" could not get his hands on him, unless the American got nostalgic and returned some day. For the time being, all he had was the cryptologist.

However he'd decided to keep away from her too, until he cleared certain things at least. He did not want to make any more mistakes, nor talk to her before speaking with his number one suspect. Not much made sense so far. In respect for the Bishop, Fache had protected him and Opus Dei. Faith was not something he could easily ignore after all. But he could not let dogma interfere more, and so, member of the Opus Dei or not, he'd bring this man to justice.

Fache was not the only one who still tormented himself over this adventure. In a hospital room, Bishop Aringarosa was feeling the full weight of his actions suffocating him. When he was informed of Silas's death, something inside had broken. The angel had truly died? This was the only thing that made him feel guilty, and not the numerous deaths he'd been involved with. He was kept in the hospital for quite a long time and this gave him very much time to think. Of course, his devoted soldier was not invulnerable. In his mind Silas had been special, a man above average men, strong and overly devoted. But a man. Silas was God's gift to assist his efforts, but he was mortal. And now that he'd been deprived of his favorite soldier, Aringarosa felt powerless…

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In a cozy apartment of Paris, several blocks away from the hospital, Sophie looked at her face in the mirror once more. She had been looking in the mirror too often lately; trying to find a clue on her face, some characteristic that might prove her origin. She'd wondered if she bore any resemblance to her distant relatives. Mary Magdalene perhaps. Or Him. No, that was a silly idea, she'd tell herself. So many generations were between them, there was no way she could have inherited Her eyes, or His slim build. Who knew… That was something she'd probably never find out. Some truths were lost in time.

Among the things that troubled her, there was something that they had not discussed with her grandmother yet. Sophie could see in the older woman's eyes that she didn't bring it up, simply because Sophie was aware of it already. She was the last descendant, the carrier of the most precious bloodline and she couldn't let it die with her. It was as simple as that. But not for Sophie, not yet.

In truth, she'd never considered marriage until then. Her life was her work, an endless path of unexplained crimes, riddles and puzzles. Mind games were much more fun than quarreling with soon to be ex boyfriends. Yes, she'd had a couple of those too. Strangely enough, she was always skeptical about said boyfriends, before even getting to know them better. Too much of a pragmatist? Perhaps. But if there was a special match for everyone out there, and if what determined the matching were common interests, passions and way of thinking, then her match would be difficult to find. For good or for bad, she was not the average woman and she did not take pride for that. Well, maybe there was someone, she'd thought a couple of times, with her cheeks blushing at the very thought. But he, Langton, had left. She was certain that their paths would cross again, but she doubted she could get intimate with a man who knew exactly who she was, what she was. She'd said farewell to him and did not ask for any future meetings. Perhaps it was better this way.

For the time being she "enjoyed" a short vacation. She wouldn't return to her police department for another week. Her superiors clearly wanted to keep her content and away from all the mess Fache had created. With a bit of luck everything would be forgotten soon and this wouldn't be known as another police fiasco. The French police did not need any more negative publicity. However, what her superiors ignored was that Sophie would have been much happier if she'd returned to work. She had no idea what to do during her vacation, which forced her to think of the same things all over again. And that was wearing her.

-----

Too many people who'd been involved in the events of the past days were still losing their sleep over them. Aringarosa was sleepless for one more night. After some hesitation, he decided to go for a small walk. As ridiculous as he felt with the white robes the hospital had provided him, he had to move once or twice a day. Still with a walking stick and still with great effort as the pain from the bullet hadn't faded yet. He'd walk around and then he'd return to his room to rest. But every day he'd walk further, even reaching other sections of the hospital. He had asked the doctor repeatedly, but all he got was that he wasn't allowed to leave just yet. And that made him feel trapped. The whole mission had failed, and he wished with all his heart to be able and justify his actions to "certain" people. As a week passed, he feared that those people would be misinformed by television and would never find out what had truly happened out there. Then again, he shouldn't risk leading the police to them. It was a tricky situation. Maybe he should just forget about everything, he tiredly thought as he kept walking, maybe accept his failure and go on with his life.

He'd gone too far this time. Aringarosa looked around; he did not know exactly where he was. All corridors of the hospital looked almost the same. The Bishop stopped and turned to a small side corridor where he found a bench to sit and catch his breath. There was a door there, "Personnel only" it read. It was rather late and perhaps against hospital rules to walk the corridors, but he just had to leave his room for a while. And fortunately nobody had noticed him. However, he very soon heard steps, coming his way. Nice… A doctor, a nurse? He'd wait for them to leave before returning to his room. But the voice that came with those footsteps made his breath stop.

"He shall be questioned with discretion," a male voice stated. Aringarosa recognized Fache's voice. And he was talking about him on the phone! He heard Fache coming closer, but the priest could not leave fast enough, and so he sat there, praying that the detective would not notice him. The steps were heard closer and closer, until they stopped, just a few feet away from the side corridor. Nothing had ended yet, the Bishop thought. Fache was determined to go after him, examine the case further. Aringarosa cringed at the very thought of going to jail.

"He is a killer," the man's voice was heard again causing Aringarosa another panic attack. "No, don't give me that. I want a confession and soon."

The Bishop was speechless. How could Fache blame him for those crimes? There was absolutely no connection; the detective could not prove anything. Hopefully… Aringarosa had never been so worried in his life. Then he forced himself to stop thinking of all this, as Fache spoke once again.

"Yes. I'm trying to be patient. He's still asleep. No the doctors do not know. I hope he wakes up soon."

A soft click ended the discussion; the man's steps were heard hesitant. Aringarosa kept staring at the man's shadow, getting bigger on the floor, approaching. Just a couple of steps and he'd be discovered. Then the man stopped again, just around the corner, he gave a frustrated sigh and quickly walked back to where he'd come from.

It took the Bishop several moments to pull himself together. God had delivered this message as well; God had hidden him from Fache's eyes. Aringarosa felt dizzy and without waiting another moment, he grabbed his walking stick and walked back to his room quickly, careful not to be seen. Only when he reached his room and closed the door behind, did he dare to breathe freely. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt his face burning. His whole body was trembling and he hasted to sit on the bed, before collapsing on the floor.

He was not a killer. And he was not asleep. Fache hadn't been talking about him. Aringarosa closed his eyes, hearing his heartbeat. This could not be a coincidence. Fache had referred to a killer in coma.

"Could you be alive, my angel?" he muttered under his breath.

To be continued-