Not for nothing was Gabriel called the Prince of Ice and Thunder. As he stormed into the Metatron's office, even in Heaven, distant rumbles of thunder could be heard. At the sight of the angry Archangel, Metatron found himself rising to his feet.
Gabriel tossed the scroll onto the Metatron's desk. "What is the meaning of this?" he hissed. "There is no reason for Raphael to Fall!"
"Apparently there is," the Metatron replied coolly. "He seems to think that you and Michael are in danger, and negotiated his terms. As things stand, the only way Raphael would Fall - aside from his own actions, of course - is if the order was given to Fell you or Michael."
"And you accepted it?!"
"I am His scribe and His Voice. It is not my place to question the decisions of the Archangels."
Gabriel had reminded Metatron of his place often enough, and he detected the faint smugness in the Seraph's voice. His eyes narrowed. "Very well, then. I am the Left Hand of God, second in command of the Heavenly Host. I outrank Raphael, and as such I demand that his request be rejected. If I am deserving of punishment, I will bear it myself. Submit that to the official records. I will deal with it when I return." Snatching up the scroll again, he turned and left the office, flying straight for the Gates. He knew where Raphael would be, and despite the Healer's parting words, Gabriel had to see him.
The Messenger flew towards South America, to a certain place in the Andes mountains.
Thunder began to rumble in the clouds above, like a low growl of a feral animal. The birds spread their wings and took off. The Lemur leaped away (not even a ruffle through my fur! it sighed), creatures skittering off to find shelter. Their instincts told them a big one was coming.
Raphael did not move, the freed strands of hair whipping across his face. The air chilled as if an icy blanket had dropped onto him and he vaguely wondered if Death had at last heard his cries. Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks and he closed them, vision filled with Gabriel, his brother, holding him tightly against a moving, shifted universe of stars.
His body trembled and he gripped at his feather to keep the wind from claiming it, the other hand digging into the dirt.
He didn't move, even as the dark clouds moved over him like a dangerous animal overtaking its prey.
Gabriel was only vaguely aware that he had subconsciously caused the storm; he could see a flash of red up ahead. As he approached, he caught his breath at the sight.
It was raining by the time he landed, folding blue-white wings back, and ran to the Archangel lying on his back. Gabriel had been angry, but now his anger was overtaken by worry. Feathers and paper lay strewn everywhere, and Raphael looked like the people he had used to treat once.
What have you done to yourself?
He knelt by Raphael, lifting his head and healing the cut on his icy cheek. "Raphael? Can you hear me?"
A familiar presence touched his own nearly non-existant one and he sucked in a sharp breath, shuddered and choked. He trembled, soaked wings twitching.
He was halluccinating.
He had to be...
He reached up with rain-slicked fingers, the one that wasn't still clutching the now-drenched feather as if it were his lifeline. He could hear thunder crack, echoing his pain as the sky wept to mix with his own endless tears.
His hand touched something corporeal, familar and safe...
But Gabriel... It couldn't be. He had told the Messenger he had hated him, had never wanted to see him again. He had watched him disappear to Heaven, the one place he himself would probably never return to.
But hallucinations did not have a solid form...
Crimson streams stuck to his pale face like slashes from a blade. He was touching touching and feeling what could only be his mind's cruel joke of his brother's corporeal form.
"Gabriel...?" His tongue seemed unwilling to form the impossible word as he tried to speak it aloud, but the thunder probably drowned out his pathetic whisper, the hiss of rain pounding the soft earth. The crumpled bits of paper danced away, some tumbling from the cliffs.
Gabriel silently slipped an arm beneath Raphael's trembling shoulders, pulling him up. He stood, cradling the Healer like a baby, before moving to the shelter of a tree. Propping Raphael against the trunk, he laid one hand on Raphael's forehead and the other on his chest, willing warmth into him. Whatever Raphael might have said, it didn't justify leaving him in this state.
His eyes snapped open and he gasped sharply, as if he had been a drowning man being pulled from the sea.
Gabriel...?
A flash of lightning lit up the sky, flickering through the branches to reveal a very familiar face to go with the warm presence touching him.
Gabriel.
Unable to control himself he threw himself at him, wrapping his arms tightly around his shoulders (hand still fisting the miserable-looking stubby feather). Fresh tears streamed down his damp cheeks.
"I'm so sorry!" he wailed, shoulders trembling as deep sobs wracked through him. His feathers shook. "I love you so much Gabriel! I just couldn't... couldn't tell you why I hurt so and..." He buried his face in the Messenger's robes, hands fisting in the fabric as the remainder of his words became incoherent babbling.
"I never... I never did ha-hate you..." His voice was strained and choked. "How could I! I... I love you like a brother, Gabriel..."
He had shared his special place with him. He had sobbed in his arms and laughed and acted like a child with him. He had given him a gift (now nothing more than a soaked stem with a few tufts poking out if it), had promised to take the Fall for him...
"I love you," he sniffled. "Please please forgive me..."
He melted in the embrace, his entire body trembling from the sobs that still tried to tear through his weak form. He grasped tightly at the Messenger's robes, supremely terrified that he would leave him there alone.
He saw the scroll and his heart sank. He knew he knew he knew... Swallowing the lump in his throat he realized, after what he had done, he deserved the truth.
"I... I never wanted you to worry about Falling..." he whispered, unable to get his raw throat to raise his voice any higher. "I couldn't bear to see you and Michael -*hic!*- torn away from the Presence. I wanted you- you to be ha-happy." He clenched his eyes shut, his tongue still forming words around the secret he had never wanted to be allowed in the spoken word. "...I love you. How could I- I not do something?" For God so loved the world... Swallowing again he continued. "Gabriel I... I'm Bound to that Promise... It's irreversible because- because I made the Deal in blood."
And there it was, his vulnerable sould ripped out for all of Creation to see. Not only had he agreed to take the Fall for another, but he had done the most Binding Promise of all.
And now Gabriel knew, and all the gentle Healer could do was weep as the sky above seemed to cry out with him.
Gabriel stared at him, horrified, mind casting about for ways to reverse it.
"Our corporations are only temporary," he said, moistening his lips. "Blood shouldn't have a hold over us. I outrank you, I should be able to do something about it. Why, Raphael? Did you think Michael and I really were that close to Falling? I was avoiding him for that very reason; I'd never have done anything to endanger him, and now you've gone and done this. There was no need." It hurt to think that Raphael had gone and done this for nothing.
Gabriel tossed the scroll onto the Metatron's desk. "What is the meaning of this?" he hissed. "There is no reason for Raphael to Fall!"
"Apparently there is," the Metatron replied coolly. "He seems to think that you and Michael are in danger, and negotiated his terms. As things stand, the only way Raphael would Fall - aside from his own actions, of course - is if the order was given to Fell you or Michael."
"And you accepted it?!"
"I am His scribe and His Voice. It is not my place to question the decisions of the Archangels."
Gabriel had reminded Metatron of his place often enough, and he detected the faint smugness in the Seraph's voice. His eyes narrowed. "Very well, then. I am the Left Hand of God, second in command of the Heavenly Host. I outrank Raphael, and as such I demand that his request be rejected. If I am deserving of punishment, I will bear it myself. Submit that to the official records. I will deal with it when I return." Snatching up the scroll again, he turned and left the office, flying straight for the Gates. He knew where Raphael would be, and despite the Healer's parting words, Gabriel had to see him.
The Messenger flew towards South America, to a certain place in the Andes mountains.
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Raphael did not move, the freed strands of hair whipping across his face. The air chilled as if an icy blanket had dropped onto him and he vaguely wondered if Death had at last heard his cries. Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks and he closed them, vision filled with Gabriel, his brother, holding him tightly against a moving, shifted universe of stars.
His body trembled and he gripped at his feather to keep the wind from claiming it, the other hand digging into the dirt.
He didn't move, even as the dark clouds moved over him like a dangerous animal overtaking its prey.
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It was raining by the time he landed, folding blue-white wings back, and ran to the Archangel lying on his back. Gabriel had been angry, but now his anger was overtaken by worry. Feathers and paper lay strewn everywhere, and Raphael looked like the people he had used to treat once.
What have you done to yourself?
He knelt by Raphael, lifting his head and healing the cut on his icy cheek. "Raphael? Can you hear me?"
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He was halluccinating.
He had to be...
He reached up with rain-slicked fingers, the one that wasn't still clutching the now-drenched feather as if it were his lifeline. He could hear thunder crack, echoing his pain as the sky wept to mix with his own endless tears.
His hand touched something corporeal, familar and safe...
But Gabriel... It couldn't be. He had told the Messenger he had hated him, had never wanted to see him again. He had watched him disappear to Heaven, the one place he himself would probably never return to.
But hallucinations did not have a solid form...
Crimson streams stuck to his pale face like slashes from a blade. He was touching touching and feeling what could only be his mind's cruel joke of his brother's corporeal form.
"Gabriel...?" His tongue seemed unwilling to form the impossible word as he tried to speak it aloud, but the thunder probably drowned out his pathetic whisper, the hiss of rain pounding the soft earth. The crumpled bits of paper danced away, some tumbling from the cliffs.
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Gabriel...?
A flash of lightning lit up the sky, flickering through the branches to reveal a very familiar face to go with the warm presence touching him.
Gabriel.
Unable to control himself he threw himself at him, wrapping his arms tightly around his shoulders (hand still fisting the miserable-looking stubby feather). Fresh tears streamed down his damp cheeks.
"I'm so sorry!" he wailed, shoulders trembling as deep sobs wracked through him. His feathers shook. "I love you so much Gabriel! I just couldn't... couldn't tell you why I hurt so and..." He buried his face in the Messenger's robes, hands fisting in the fabric as the remainder of his words became incoherent babbling.
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He had shared his special place with him. He had sobbed in his arms and laughed and acted like a child with him. He had given him a gift (now nothing more than a soaked stem with a few tufts poking out if it), had promised to take the Fall for him...
"I love you," he sniffled. "Please please forgive me..."
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"I never thought anyone could be more idiotic than Michael." He drew back, pulling the scroll out of his pocket and holding it up. "Why?"
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He saw the scroll and his heart sank. He knew he knew he knew... Swallowing the lump in his throat he realized, after what he had done, he deserved the truth.
"I... I never wanted you to worry about Falling..." he whispered, unable to get his raw throat to raise his voice any higher. "I couldn't bear to see you and Michael -*hic!*- torn away from the Presence. I wanted you- you to be ha-happy." He clenched his eyes shut, his tongue still forming words around the secret he had never wanted to be allowed in the spoken word. "...I love you. How could I- I not do something?" For God so loved the world... Swallowing again he continued. "Gabriel I... I'm Bound to that Promise... It's irreversible because- because I made the Deal in blood."
And there it was, his vulnerable sould ripped out for all of Creation to see. Not only had he agreed to take the Fall for another, but he had done the most Binding Promise of all.
And now Gabriel knew, and all the gentle Healer could do was weep as the sky above seemed to cry out with him.
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"Our corporations are only temporary," he said, moistening his lips. "Blood shouldn't have a hold over us. I outrank you, I should be able to do something about it. Why, Raphael? Did you think Michael and I really were that close to Falling? I was avoiding him for that very reason; I'd never have done anything to endanger him, and now you've gone and done this. There was no need." It hurt to think that Raphael had gone and done this for nothing.
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