Gabriel contemplates
Time: May 20th, night
Place: Gabriel's room
Status: Private (Gabriel and Raphael) - Complete
Summary: Gabriel thinks about Michael.
Gabriel changed the cats' litter tray and refilled their water dish and kibble before going into his bathroom. He could sense Raphael's faint but peaceful aura on the other side and silently thanked the Lord that thus far, everything seemed fine. At least Raphael seemed to be taking the first steps towards healing, even if he wasn't fully Restored yet.
As he stripped off his clothes and stepped under the showerhead, he thought about Raphael's reasons for keeping the cursed blade and hurting himself with it, and shook his head. Yes, Primoris's nightmares had been vivid - he could still remember how it felt to be completely drained of the Presence, to have dark wings, to watch as Lucifer impaled Michael to the wall, pinning him up in a cruciform position - but Gabriel simply could not follow his little brother's logic. How could hurting himself with a blade ensure that Gabriel wouldn't be killed? It wasn't even as though Gabriel was in immediate danger; as far as he knew, there were no demons hunting him in particular. And besides, he could certainly take care of himself.
Still, it wasn't as though Gabriel himself wasn't guilty of trying not to let his nightmares come true. Oh, he still spent time with Michael - ignoring the Warrior was simply impossible, he was too much a part of Gabriel - but he missed the closeness they had enjoyed once. Sighing, he turned the knob and closed his eyes as hot water pummelled bare skin.
A clear memory of Michael impaled to the wall, spitting blood at Lucifer, suddenly came to him, and he shuddered despite the heat.
"Don't, Michael," Gabriel manages to say. "It's not worth it. Please don't. He'll kill you."
And despite all the blood and pain, Michael gives him his best cocky grin. "Run, Gabriel, and it'll be worth it.”
The sheer pain of seeing Michael like that, at Lucifer’s mercy, more blood on the floor than in his body; the pain of watching Michael force himself to face Lucifer, for Gabriel’s sake…
And later, as he makes his way to the Dreaming to ask for the Dream Lord’s help, he encounters a darker Michael, a Fallen Michael, and as Gabriel stabs him it feels like he’s stabbing himself…
Gabriel wrapped his arms around himself and forced himself to stop thinking about that night. It’s over.
He found himself remembering the talk with Michael he’d had a few days afterwards, though.
"G' 'way 'n' come back when you figure out what the crap y're feelin', Gabe. It's one thing t' say y' not in love, it's another to say it when y' pretty much are."
He bit his lip. I’m not in love. But even as he thought it, something twisted in his stomach. Some angel of truth I am.
Gabriel could still remember the shared dream in which Michael had kissed him, as vividly as if it had been this morning, and shuddered again as the stream of hot water began to wash away the soap. He had tried to forget the kiss, branding it Lust, but he simply couldn’t.
He turned the shower off and stood there for a moment. It simply couldn’t be avoided any longer; Michael was more than a mere friend to him.
Gabriel clenched his fists, leaning against the cool white tiles. He didn’t know what he felt for Michael, but it was more than friendship. Groaning, he let his head thud against the wall. Oh, he’d always known Michael was attractive, but had never really thought much about it until now.
What am I supposed to do?
This… attraction would pass, surely, and then they could return to the way things had been. As much as was possible, anyway, despite the knowledge that Michael loved him.
Gabriel shook his head slightly as he dried himself; he still didn’t understand why. Couldn’t you have chosen someone who doesn’t worry about Falling every day? I don’t want to hurt you, Michael.
He quickly dressed and left the bathroom, smiling at the sight of Raphael curled up on the bed. Gabriel didn’t know what to do about himself and Michael, but at least he could try to help Raphael.