Chapter 2: Traveling Buddy

Goh, blood streaming from a gash above his brow, held Franklin's gaze with an intensity born of pain and gratitude.

"Excuse me sir, would you happen to know a medic that could spare a look at my daughter? She's badly hurt and scared," Goh implored, his voice weak yet urgent.

Franklin's eyes shifted to Sumi, who, despite her visible distress over Goh's injuries, exuded a quiet strength. The sight stirred something within Franklin—a flicker of humanity in the wasteland of his war-torn heart.

Without hesitation, he retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and knelt before the old man, gently dabbing at the blood.

"I can't get hold of a medic right now, but I can do my best to help," he said, his voice low, imbued with a newfound purpose however fleeting.

As he tied the handkerchief around Goh's head, civilians rushed past, casting curious glances at the soldier aiding an injured civilian.

Over Franklin's shoulder, the Guardian Angel watched with a proud grin, unnoticed by all but Franklin.

Goh, once assured his wound was tended, looked up at Franklin with earnest eyes. "Thank you, sir. Would you know of anywhere that my daughter and I could find refuge?"

Franklin paused, the weight of the request anchoring him momentarily to the spot. "I'm sorry, this is the most I am willing to help. I have things to get back to," he replied, the words tasting bitter as they left his mouth.

Goh and Sumi offered a quick, shallow bow of gratitude before disappearing into the crowd, their figures swallowed up by the throng of frantic civilians.

As they left, the Guardian Angel turned to Franklin, their expression thoughtful. "See? That was nice. Why can't we continue to have that Franklin?"

Franklin, fixing his gaze on the retreating figures of Goh and Sumi, felt a pang of something akin to regret. "How many patches are going to cover up my actions?" he muttered, his voice a mix of defiance and despair.

Franklin's frustration was palpable as he declared, "It's just an endless hole that I can never close. Why are you still here? Why am I? Get me back up there."

The Guardian Angel paused, a thoughtful expression crossing their ethereal face. "Whoa whoa whoa, hold on. I've been thinking..."

Franklin shook his head and turned to leave, but the moment he took a step, he found himself back in front of the angel.

As if no space or time had separated their exchange, the angel continued, "What if we make a bargain? You can get what you want, and I'll feel more at peace with this decision."

"Why should I care about you being at peace?" Franklin responded curtly, his patience thinning.

The angel replied calmly, "I'll let you choose to end your life. It's your choice to make, you were right, I shouldn't take that away from you..."

"Thank you. Now get me back up there," Franklin said, his tone tinged with a blend of relief and resignation.

"But if you have to do it, you need to find people to donate your body to after you're gone," the angel proposed, adding a condition that seemed to redefine the stakes of their discussion.

Franklin was taken aback, "Excuse me?"

"You are a perfectly healthy young man. Did you not just see that crippled old man? All these civilians could make use of those limbs and organs of yours," the angel explained, their voice carrying a conviction that challenged Franklin to think beyond his immediate despair.

"Listen, I admire your charitable outlook on the situation, but do you know what you're asking? It is going to be extremely difficult to find a doctor willing to do that, especially here," Franklin argued, his practical concerns surfacing amidst the moral and ethical quandary presented by the angel.

"That's unfortunate, isn't it? I guess you'll just have to leave the country and find someone elsewhere," the angel remarked, unyielding in their stance.

"I will be hunted down as a deserter. I don't know anybody that would be capable of helping with this and even if I did, I'd have to convince them of the morality of my decision," Franklin countered, his voice tinged with desperation and a growing sense of entrapment.

"Those are the conditions you'll have to overcome. Unless you want to keep making futile attempts at your life. I'll always be there to prevent you," the angel responded firmly, leaving no room for Franklin to see an easy way out.

As Franklin rolled his eyes and looked away, a small movement caught his attention.

A pair of curious eyes peeked around the corner of a nearby building. It was Sumi, her gaze innocent yet aware. Realizing she had been noticed, she stepped into the light, giving Franklin a timid smile and a wave.

Behind her, Goh appeared, pushing his wheelchair with a vigor that belied his earlier injuries.

He approached Franklin with an enthusiasm that contrasted sharply with the grim context of their surroundings.

"Forgive me for listening in on your conversation, but we know of a doctor in the far north. She is said to be a Jewish witch doctor who can miraculously heal any ailments. My daughter and I were planning to go there before this city went under attack. Seeing that you need a doctor as well, would you mind accompanying us there?" Goh's offer was both unexpected and intriguing, opening a potential path that Franklin hadn't considered.

Franklin stepped back, his initial reaction one of surprise and slight repulsion at the man's boldness and desperation.

"How much did you hear?" he asked, his face twisting into a mix of suspicion and reluctance.

"Just that you are a deserter and in need of a doctor, sir. I apologize if it was not meant to be heard. We mean no harm, we just desperately need help," Goh replied, his tone apologetic yet earnest, reinforcing the gravity of their shared predicament.

Franklin's glance shifted between the elderly man and the celestial figure beside him, uncertainty clouding his eyes.

He seemed to be grappling with the reality of the situation—whether the Guardian Angel was a figment of his imagination or a genuine supernatural presence only he could perceive.

"How far away is this doctor?" Franklin asked, his voice a mixture of skepticism and curiosity.

"Three days' journey on foot. Perhaps more, given my condition," Goh replied, his voice steady despite the obvious physical toll such a journey would demand.

Beside him, Sumi nervously twirled her hair, her eyes fixed on Franklin, her expression a silent plea.

Franklin exhaled deeply, turning his gaze towards the angel, seeking any sign of guidance or disapproval.

"What? I didn't orchestrate this, it's completely up to you," the angel responded with a shrug, their tone neutral, leaving the decision solely in Franklin's hands.

Franklin nodded slowly, a decision forming amidst his inner turmoil.

"Alright, I'll accompany you there," he declared, his voice carrying a hint of reluctant commitment.

Goh's face lit up with a grateful smile, and Sumi rushed to hug her father, her relief palpable in the tight embrace.

Franklin's eyes then darted to his uniform jacket, his question directed at both the angel and Goh, though it was clear he was still grappling with the angel's interventions.

"Are you going to let me take my uniform off?" he asked, half expecting the jacket to reappear as it had before.

"Oh no, sir, we don't mind at all," Goh reassured him quickly, misunderstanding Franklin's concern as one of propriety rather than the supernatural.

"So do we have a deal?" the angel pressed, extending their hand forward as if to seal the agreement with a handshake.

Franklin hesitated for a moment before removing his coat and placing it on the angel's outstretched hand.

"We'll see how long this goes. Don't interfere anymore," he said firmly, setting a boundary with a tone of finality.

Goh looked on, puzzled by Franklin's last comment. "Sir?" he inquired, unsure whom Franklin was addressing.

"Oh, don't mind me. I'm just talking to myself," Franklin replied with a dismissive wave, turning back to face the road ahead.

As they prepared to set off, Franklin felt the weight of his decision—not just the physical journey to the north, but the emotional and spiritual journey he had inadvertently embarked upon.

With each step, he would be walking not just toward a potential cure for Goh and Sumi, but perhaps toward his own salvation or deeper damnation, guided by an angel whose presence was as mysterious as the path that lay before them.