My words caught Dane off-balance, filling him with equal amounts of hope and disbelief. Kolton had been fighting cancer since they were kids and the thought of him no longer suffering with a half-life brought warmth to Dane's dwindling optimism. Countless doctors handed out hope before, but this, for some reason unbeknownst to him, felt different. This felt real.

"You're serious?" he asked, breathing deeply. "Herbert, you can actually cure my brother?"

"Actually, I said, 'I know how to cure your brother.'" Upon the cryptic response, I entered the elevator in the dimly lit, empty hospital ward. "Come with me. We have much to discuss."

Dane took a few reluctant steps forward before the doors began to close, then raced inside to join me. He rubbed the back of his neck as we traveled down the shaft in silence, unsure of what to ask, but desperately wanted to know what I had to offer.

The elevator stopped at the lobby, as dark and abandoned as the sixth-floor ward, not a soul in sight. No ambulance sirens could be heard in the distance, no doctor pages over the intercom, no ambient noises which would mark the fact we were in a hospital -- just stillness and peace.

"Okay, where is everyone?" Dane finally asked, looking from side to side.

"This is a conversation for just the two of us," I explained. "We don't need the distractions, but I can assure you, we're never really alone."

For a matter of seconds, the lights overhead brightened while patients and visitors alike appeared in the lobby and adjacent corridors, some conversing, others, moaning in pain. Dane turned in place, mouth agape, as everything once again vanished into nothingness, leaving plumes of dark blue smoke wisping behind.

"I don't believe it," Dane said, perplexed. "You really are what you say you are."

"An angel," I stated. "It does help if you say it yourself."

"I'm not sure that I'm quite there yet."

"If you don't mind me asking, what would get you there?" I asked, passing through the opened double doors of the lobby.

"I don't know," he replied, following me to the gloomy sidewalk. "I am curious about why you're so interested in me of all people."

"Truth be told, my instructions to initiate you come from the top of the totem pole. You, my mortal friend, are much more than you seem. I admit I was a touch underwhelmed when I first saw you, but the amount of joy you brought to your newfound friend on the sixth floor -- I can see why they want you in our ranks."

"Wait. Jenna? Is this all about her? I thought it was about my brother," Dane said, his temper beginning to flair.

"Take heart, my friend," I coaxed, rubbing his shoulder, his rigidity softening as I spoke. "One thing at a time. I promise, we'll get there."

"What did you just do to me?" he asked softly, hand on his chest.

"I harnessed your anxiety and placed it elsewhere."

"Is that Angel Talk for 'manipulating me'?"

"Would that make you feel better?"

"No, Herbert, it doesn't," he replied, looking at his hands while flexing his fingers. "I can't even make a fist?"

"That would be a sign of anger and we need to sidestep that particular emotion for the time being. I need you calm and collected."

"You can't just hypnotize me into calm and collected?"

"That would be nice, but there's a certain amount of free will I have to leave to mortals."

"How generous of you," Dane said under his breath.

We came to the end of the sidewalk, which met a railing, overlooking a large pond. The rippling water from the fountain in the distance slipped over the silence, relaxing, therapeutic. Dane leaned against the railing, arms crossed.

"You're quite good with mortals," I said as Dane looked out onto the pond.

"When I want to be," he said, sighing. "People cause complications."

"That, they do. But, you have a way of uncomplicating the complicated, don't you?"

"How do you know so much about me?"

"I've studied everything about you -- who you've been, what you could be, and what you will be."

"But, we just met tonight," Dane replied, flabbergasted. "How long have you been stalking me?"

"Studying you," I corrected. "I suppose you could say I began earlier tonight."

"You were able to gather everything on me in a few hours? That's just not possible."

"When you're able to stand outside of time, you'd be surprised at all you can accomplish."

"Outside of time?"

"That's more of an advanced lesson. You'll catch on with practice."

"Lessons..." Dane tapered off, sorting through his haphazard thoughts. "When we were in the bookstore, you said something about bargaining. And in the hospital, you connected my brother and a cure. Are you giving me a chance to save my brother by sacrificing myself?"

"Do you believe I want to kill you?" I asked incredulously.

"I don't know what to believe anymore."

"Killing a mortal is simple."

A grand piano fell from the sky, crashing on the sidewalk, inches away from Dane, causing him to crouch, clutching a knee while masking his face with his arm. Splinters of wood and ivory keys littered the sidewalk and splashed in the pond. Dane slowly stood up after realizing he narrowly avoided a grim demise.

"Are you crazy?" he said as loud as he could, though my calming manipulation kept it to a dull roar. He covered his mouth with his hands, irritated his voice lacked any volume.

"That was a perfectly good piano," I replied. "Perhaps something more arbitrary would have sufficed."

An anvil crashed into the sidewalk, again narrowly missing Dane. Pieces of asphalt and pebbles pelted his pants.

"This isn't necessary!" Dane shouted through a whisper. "I get it! It's easy to kill a mortal."

"Oh, good!" I replied gleefully. "So glad you grasp the concept."

"Next time, give me a little warning before you begin teaching."

"That would be a peculiar way of conveying a lesson."

"Believe me, it's not. Besides, what's the point of all this, aside from my fragile existence?"

"You are under the impression we want a sacrifice through death."

"And that's not what this is?"

"Absolutely not. We want a sacrifice through service."

Dane, once again, shuffled through their conversational exchanges. "The gate. You want me to be the keeper or whatever."

"Precisely. You are to be the next Gatekeeper, bringing peace to those who enter into the hereafter, much like the peace you brought to Ms. Selaphiel."

"Ms. Selaphiel?" Dane asked, confused.

"Jenna Selaphiel," I expounded. "Other than her medical caretakers, your brother, and now, yourself, she refuses to see anyone."

"I don't understand."

"She's dying, Mr. Dericaan. Too proud and too afraid for any of her loved ones to see what has become of her."

"That doesn't seem right. She was so open and even welcoming to me."

"You see, even as a mortal, you have the ability to inexplicably comfort another. This is why you were chosen as Gatekeeper."

Dane sighed, turning over everything in his mind. "And if I take this responsibility, this service post of sorts, you'll save my brother's life?"

"No, no, no. You will save his life."

He kicked a piece of the obliterated piano as he walked into the empty street. This had been what he was waiting for -- a way to save his little brother.

"Will I at least have a chance to say goodbye?' he asked, eyes on the pavement.

"I see that you will," I replied, foretelling what I could.

"And I'm guessing I'll have to die in order to become like you."

"That, you will."

"Can you tell me when that happens?"

"I cannot."

"For some reason, I knew you were going to say that," he said, kicking another piece of piano. "So, what happens now?"

"My instructions were to initiate you, prepare you for what's to come. It is now your turn to decide what to do with the last of your life."

"I'd like to see my brother."

"I'd be happy to take you to him."

The street crumbled underneath our feet, revealing a patterned, off-white linoleum while the buildings around us folded into smooth walls and windows. The floor lifted into the sky as the hospital framed itself, brick by brick, locking into place as we were once again on the sixth floor of St. Michael's. Kolton sat in his wheelchair in Jenna's room, playing a round of Battleship. They both laughed as Jenna sank Kolton's aircraft carrier.

I cleared my throat. "Now, when you're ready, I'll --"

"I'm not," Dane interrupted. "I'll never be ready for this. I can't say goodbye to him. Maybe it's better if I just disappeared. As long as he gets the life he deserves, I can deal with leaving things unsaid."

"If you don't say goodbye, he'll never live a life he deserves."

"I could write him a letter..."

"You've always found comfort in words, Mr. Dericaan, but this requires a far more personal touch. And that personal touch actually has to be in person."

"How did you do it?" he asked. "How did you let go and become what you are now?"

I crossed my arms, feeling vulnerable for the first time in quite a while. "No one's ever asked me that before."

"Please. Tell me," he gently insisted.

I lost myself in the recollection. "My wife and I were fast asleep when our home caught fire. When I woke, smoke and flames had filled every square inch of our bedroom. I remember not being able to breathe. I fought to wake my wife, but I couldn't get her to move. And just when I thought all was lost, an angel came to me, offering what I'm offering you -- a chance to save the one whom I loved most. In that moment, I couldn't refuse the gift given to me. And I accepted it."

"So, your wife lived and you became the Gatekeeper?"

"Simply put, yes," I said. "But, my predecessor had a unique way of helping me along my journey."

"More unique than this?" Dane posed, eyebrow arched.

"I believe so, although I know you believe otherwise."

Dane tapped his nose with his forefinger, then took a deep breath. "Your predecessor or teacher or whatever he was, did he give you the chance to say goodbye to your wife?"

"He did. And when I was ready, I took my post at the gate."

Dane continued to watch Kolton and Jenna play their game, smiling as they smiled, chuckling as they laughed. He folded his hands, not in prayer, but in deep contemplation.

"What will you do when I take your place?" he asked.

"I'll cross over to the other side and see my wife again," I replied. "And when it is time for the next Gatekeeper, I'll accompany you just as my predecessor, Mr. Jegude, accompanied me."

"I hope Mr. Jegude was easier on you than you've been on me," Dane half-jested.

"Spencer Jegude was an outstanding mentor for me. He surprised me in ways you couldn't imagine."

Dane stared at Jenna, bringing his hands to his sides. "She's not going to make it, is she?"

"Ms. Selaphiel has a highly experimental surgery scheduled for tomorrow. Her chances of survival are not in her favor."

"But, look at her, Herbert," Dane said, tears beginning to well. "She has so much life within her, so much to offer if she was only given the chance."

"It's not our place," I explained. "We don't decide their fates. That's not how we work."

"But, it should be," Dane shot back. "If I can save one, I should be able to at least save two."

"Apologies, Mr. Dericaan. That's just not possible."

Before Dane could utter another word, I vanished from sight, leaving him with much to mull over. Nurse Urie accidentally nudged him as she moved a hanging IV stand from around the nurses' station.

"So sorry," she said. "Didn't see you there, Dane. You just popped up outta nowhere."

"You have no idea," he muttered. "It's really okay. I should've been watching where I was going."

"Oh, don't you worry. Honest mistake," she said as she moved into Jenna's room. "Okay, you two -- I'm gonna have to see Kolton makes it back to his room. You really need to get your rest, Jenna."

"Ah, boo," Kolton replied, closing his panels of Battleship. "I was just about to make a comeback."

"Sure you were," Jenna jabbed. "You and your two shot dinghy were going to take on my entire armada."

"I could if you weren't such a cheater," he poked back. "Oh, hey, bro! Whatcha doing way over there?"

Dane inched closer, still deep in thought with everything that transpired with me. So many questions raced through his mind; however, two stuck out over all the rest. How do I say goodbye? But, more pressing -- How can I save them both? There must be a way.

"Hey, guys," he mumbled, standing in the doorway.

"Sorry, didn't catch that," Jenna replied.

"Yeah, bro, you look like you've seen a ghost," Kolton said.

"Angel," Dane whispered.

Jenna sat up straight in her bed. "Seriously, you're gonna have to speak up."

"I'm sorry, guys. I've just had a long night."

"Did something happen to you in the last ten minutes?" Jenna asked.

"Ten minutes?" Dane thought aloud, glancing at his watch. "That can't be right..."

"Bro," Kolton said, showing a deeper concern. "I know Jenna's got the fancy surgery tomorrow, but you look like the one who needs the rest."

"I concur, Dr. K.D.," Jenna playfully mocked. "Off to bed, Mr. Dericaan. You can harass me for more disgusting Jello tomorrow."

Dane took to the handles of Kolton's wheelchair, slightly grinning. "We really should let you get some rest. Sweet dreams, Jenna."

After bidding one another goodnight, Dane took Kolton back to his room, lifting him onto his bed, and situating his sheets. Kolton reached out, touching Dane's arm.

"Bro," he said softly. "Go home and get some rest."

Dane sighed, throwing an extra pillow on the armchair next to the bed. "If you don't mind, I'd like to stay here with you tonight."

"All right," he replied, his concern still written over his expression. "But, tomorrow, you're going to tell me what's going on."

"We'll see," Dane said, collapsing on the chair. "We'll see."