(no subject)
Date: March 18, 2003 (?)
Status: Private (Gabriel, Dream) - Complete
Setting: Gabriel's room, then the garden.
Summary: Gabriel has a nightmare. Unable to sleep, he goes into the garden, where he meets an old and yet new friend.
Gabriel tossed restlessly in his bed.
"The Darkness did not put such thoughts in me, Gabriel. It simply encouraged what was already there; what is already within all of us. We even ask the same question, Messenger - why? And I have a feeling we will get answers soon." He holds out a hand. "Walk with me, my friend?"
And Gabriel takes the hand of Lucifer Morningstar, and walks with his friend into the Darkness. (No. It did not happen this way.)
Darkness assails his senses; he can feel Lucifer's hand but cannot see him or anything else. He shivers as tiny, featherlight whispers of air touch his skin, as slithery, airy voices whisper in his ears and heart the questions he dares not even form in his mind. (No. His will is just. I do not question it.)
Swords clash around him; for a moment he feels a sense of deja-vu but it soon passes, as he realises that he is fighting for a different side this time. (I would never!)
The Judgement falls upon him. (Please, no...)
He barely has time to register the pain and anger in those smouldering eyes he had blindly followed before he himself Falls by Uriel's sword. His wings burn, and his body burns, and the Presence in him burns away. And he feels cold, despite the searing pain, and he feels empty, and alone. (Dear Lord, please, NO!)
With a cry, Gabriel sat bolt upright in the darkness, breathing hard, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his wings bursting out. "NO!"
There was a startled meow by his side, as the grey kitten blinked up at him. He barely noticed, staring at his own hands as of to ascertain they were still fair, twisting to check that his feathers were still white. It took a few moments for him to regain his senses. Stupid. It was just a dream. He had not Fallen. Slowly, his breathing returned to normal and he willed the perspiration to disappear. It was just a dream. I have not Fallen. I will not Fall. I will not Fall.
He did not feel like falling asleep again. Slowly, he pulled aside the bedclothes, automatically scratching the kitten between its ears, before miracling on his robes. A breeze blew in through the open window. Fresh air would do him good, he decided.
The cool grass felt good beneath his bare feet, and he tilted his head back, breathing in deeply as the breeze ruffled his hair and wings. He paused. There was someone seated on a nearby bench.
He could have slipped away, but suddenly he longed for company. He walked towards the figure. Strange. It appeared to be a pale young man with white hair, wearing a white shirt. Perhaps the thin moonlight was bleaching the colour out of everything.
"Good evening," he called tentatively. The figure turned, and he gasped. Those eyes. It can't be.
Gabriel faced the Dream King.