Drabbles - Skeet Ulrich's Many Faces

Note: I was bored, and recently rediscovered my love for Skeet Ulrich. I've decided to write a series of short drabbles dedicated to his characters. This first set is dedicated to Paul Callahn of the show Miracles. (which the SciFi Channel ought to pick up) Enjoy! If anyone has a request, please don't hesitate to ask. (Although, I think I may be physically incapable of drabbles…)

Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few ideas and a couple of storylines. :P


One - The Accident (I know we pretty much know what Paul was thinking during it, but I want to really go into write it.)

He drove. Knuckles white as he held the wheel so tightly. He didn't like driving in the rain. Especially when it was coming down so hard. It was almost unnatural.

Paul could barely make out Olivia's car anymore. He squinted out the windshield futilely, trying to see past the thickening rain.

The radio suddenly switched on it's own, making Paul take his eyes off the road for a fraction of a second. He was sweating; it made his neck itch.

Paul looked back at the road, relieved to see nothing coming at him. The red water tower. His breath caught in his throat at was said white letters. Letters that looked like they'd been slashed and carved through with a knife:

GOD IS COMING.

He stared at it. Everything else seemed to fade away.

Except the bells and lights from the train tracks.

Olivia's car was sitting in behind the gates, not seven feet away. Paul could see Olivia's shadow in the driver's seat. Tommy was in the middle of the backseat, his hood up.

Paul jerked the steering wheel to the left, veering around the older car and fishtailing onto the track.

He barely had time to see the bright, white headlights before they were suddenly smashed through his window, blinding him. The impact sent him reeling to the other side of his car.

His head slammed hard against the window, leaving him dazed and bloody. Before he could even think of attempting to get his bearings, the car lurched and was flipped onto his side. His legs first, something snapped and pain shot through Paul's left ankle.

The screech of metal on metal was deafening. He tried to put his hands over his ears to block it out. Something smashed into his ribs, he felt them break. Paul had time to register it was the dashboard before hitting the seats next.

He and the car squealed along the tracks, bouncing madly. Every time he bounced, something new hurt.

After nearly a hundred feet, Paul was vaguely aware of the upside down car being pushed off the tracks. Then, he was flipping out of control, slamming against the door. Glass broke and Paul felt blood rushing across his face. His vision turned scarlet. In his mind, there was a red fountain.

Mercifully, the car began to slow its decent down the hill. It landed upside down, leaving Paul laying on the ceiling in a puddle of glass and blood. His breath came in quick, pained gasps.

He noticed that everything was quiet. Very quiet. He fought to keep his eyes open -- even they seemed to hurt, and waited to lose consciousness.

Darkness crept in on his vision as he focused hard on the dying radio. He struggled to take even breaths, whimpering (he was alone, what did he care if he whimpered?) when broken ribs stabbed into his lungs.

Paul Callahn was going to die. He brought up his left hand to try to wipe his own blood away. He couldn't reach past his shoulder.

The radio flickered and died. Paul lay there in silence, staring at the dashboard. The rain pattered on the ground, he listened hard. The upside down car kept out the worst of it, but a fine mist managed to land on him through the broken windows.

He closed his eyes, just for a moment…

"Are you okay?"

Paul jerked back to life with a wet-sounding gulp of air. His eyes looked around wildly until they landed on Tommy, kneeling in the bloodied mud. Someone was behind him. He couldn't take his eyes off the dark figure. It seemed the figure was real. Tommy turned to look at where the grown-up was looking and saw another man. He didn't seem scary, so the boy went back to his friend.

Paul tried to nod, only to be brought to painful awareness of the fact his body was completely broken. Despite his efforts, Paul couldn't make the shaking slow even a little.

Tommy paused for a second to look at Paul, his eyes traveled to the windshield.

Paul craned his neck, and saw the broken safety glass. There was blood on that, too. Was it everywhere? Probably. The blood and water continued to drip.

GOD IS NOW HERE.

While Paul was still focused on the words, he didn't see Tommy lower his eyes. The boy leaned in, watching. There was a terrified expression on Paul's face as his small arms wrapped around his chest. All he could think of was, 'Don't do it. Please. Don't do it. Stop it.' as if it were a CD on repeat in his mind.

Tommy closed his eyes. Took a deep, steadying breath.

"I hope you feel better soon."

'No,' thought Paul. He prayed for it not to work, that somehow, Tommy'd lost the gift.

New pain shot through his body, and he let out a soft cry. Bones shifted and burned when they merged to form whole ones. The ones that were dislocated popped as they migrated back to their original spots.

Torn skin melted together, searing his face.

"T-Tommy!" Paul managed to gasp out.

The last thing Paul managed to register before passing out was that Tommy, laying on his chest, wasn't moving.


Author's Notes: Rather anti-climactic, but I don't care. I just wanted to write the accident out. It was kind of hard, too, because I've never been in a serious car accident. No matter how many you see on TV, it's not the same. shrugs Whatever, I'm cool with it. Wait, no I'm not, cuz I'm going back and pausing every few seconds, and I'm thinking I saw something sticking through Paul's chest. Maybe it wasn't all broken bones and lacerated flesh… Mwa ha ha ha ah cough


KEEL'S POV OF THE ACCIDENT - (BECAUSE IT FUCKING WAS KEEL, NOT A BAD GUY)

He knelt down in the mud, behind the child. Glanced at the splintered back windshield in the backseat of the crumpled car. Blood and rain dripped onto it.

Paul looked behind Tommy and saw the stranger sitting there. He twitched a little, for that was all he could do. Something passed between Paul's eyes and his mind, shadowing them. Like he was seeing something else.

The man watched silently, never moving a muscle.

"Are you okay?"

The boy, Tommy, turned around to sit, glancing warily at the stranger. He made no move, so Tommy went back to Paul.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, sounding much more afraid.

The boy started to lean in, and the stranger heard, "No, don't!" in a painful voice. Keel looked at the windshield again. He kept his surprise secret as he read the words. Paul craned his neck to look at the glass and his face went paler than it had been when he saw the words.

GOD IS NOW HERE.

Tommy followed his gaze and saw them too. He looked resigned as he lowered his eyes. The boy leaned in and put his arms around Paul. Keel could see the terror in the other man's eyes. Paul could do nothing as the boy killed himself to save him. Couldn't even lift a finger.

"I hope you feel better soon."

Paul let out a yell, gasping for air as his body began to heal. Tommy collapsed on top of him, his own breathing labored. The boy's eyes closed, and both men knew they wouldn't open alive again.

"T-Tommy!" Paul managed to gasp before losing consciousness.

Keel pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed 911 calmly. It rang once, then an operator picked up.

"Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?" she asked cheerfully.

"A car has been struck by the 12:45 AM train on the main road. An ambulance is required. You'll find the car about a hundred feet down the tracks. You can't miss it. Come quickly."

He snapped the phone shut and slipped it into his pocket. Out of his jacket, he pulled out a digital camera. Keel snapped a picture of the words before pulling the windshield full out into the rain. The falling droplets washed the blood away, leaving pink-tinged water to drain through the cracks.

Keel waited by Paul and Tommy until he could see the flash of white and red lights flying along the road. He got up and checked them once more. Satisfied there was nothing more he could do, he walked into the woods and out of everyone's view.

He'd talk to Paul again. Soon. But now was not the time, and he didn't want to answer any uncomfortably questions about who he was and why he was following Paul Callahn.

Yes, he would talk to him again.

-----------------------------------------------------THE END-------------------------------------------------------

Notes: This was written shortly after I realized that it was Keel watching Tommy and Paul in the rain, not some evil, demonic, scary-lookin' random dude. I weep for my lack of observational skills… (I figured, "Well, duh, someone had to call 911...") sigh


Three - Paul's Reaction on Tommy Healing the Baby… (This is cuz I love Skeet so… lol)

The little boy walked slowly to the strange lady sitting in his living room. The baby she held so tenderly in her arms was silent. Tommy stopped in front of her, looking frightened and unsure. The lady looked from Tommy, to her very still baby. Shifting slightly on the couch. Tommy, after hesitating a moment, held out his arms for the child.

The mother handed him over, a glimmer of hope in her eyes Tommy held him. The baby cooed a little when he left his mother's arms, but other than that, there was very little reaction. Tommy stared down at the baby, and for a moment, Paul thought the boy had frozen. Then --

"I hope you feel better soon."

Paul put a hand to his lips, watching every little move that Tommy, the baby, and the stranger made. Out of the corner of his sight, he saw Tommy's mother close her eyes against a wave of grief. His father looked proud, as if Tommy scored the winning homerun as the baby began to scream. Paul felt his mouth drop open in awe.

Tommy handed the baby back to his mother, smiling as he continued to scream at the top of his lungs. Concern washed over Paul when blood began to drip out of Tommy's nose.

After that, Tommy went limp and fell to the floor, sounding much heavier than a seven (?) year old little boy should.

The only thing Paul could do was watch.


Author's Notes: Eh, I was bored. It's basically two of the same thing, I know, but they were still fun. Leave a review!