AN: A short story inspired by today's rerun and last night's startling reappearance of my favorite deity in the new episode. AU, obviously. Guessing her real name. Less than 500 words.
Charle Bradbury, not her real name, but it had been long enough that she could use it as her own, stood over her mother's body.
The life support was gone, Charlie had finished the Hobbit. How her mother had lived off life support to hear the entire Hobbit eluded Charlie, but she had.
Her mother's eyes were closed, but she was still breathing.
No ragged, near death breathing, but soft, peaceful, steady breathing.
Breathing as if she were asleep.
I'm so sorry, Mom. You can go on, to Heaven, where you belong. Charlie leaned over and kissed her mother's cheek.
Charlie's mother gasped, a racking, almost pained gasp. This is it, thought Charlie. Tears trailed down her face.
Goodbye, mom. I just want to say goodbye and how sorry I am. Charlie sobbed.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was a man in a white lab coat, a doctor. Not her mother's doctor.
Likely the hospice doctor who had taken care of her mother. He had kind blue eyes that just made you want to trust him.
"I can't change many things, but some things are meant to be changed." Said the doctor.
He leaned over Charlie's mother and kissed her on the brow.
Charlie was confused. Who was this doctor? What did he mean?
The doctor with the kind blue eyes stood and squeezed Charlie's shoulder.
"This is your miracle, Charlie. Don't waste it."
The doctor left the room. Charlie ran out, wanting to ask what he meant, but when she exited her mother's room, the doctor was nowhere to be seen.
Charlie's mother coughed, a wracking cough, as her voice hadn't been used in years, which it hadn't.
Her mother whispered something. Her name. Her real name. Not Charlie. Mom.
Charlie ran to her mother's side.
"Mom. Mom. If you can hear me, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. Everything." She gripped her mother's hand.
Her mother tilted her head. "Things happen for a reason, Charlene. I never blamed you. The man with the blue eyes told me how you felt. He offered me, us, a second chance."
"Mom. I don't know...what...what are you talking about? Who? What man?"
She was talking to her mother. Actually talking to her, and she was asking about a man her mother had dreamed about in her coma? What was wrong with her?
"The Man. The Lord. He healed me, Charlene." He mother pushed against the bed, sat up, and took a deep breath.
"He told me that this was for you, Charlene."
She didn't understand. She shook her head.
"I don't understand. What is this?"
"It's your miracle, Charlene."