Gabriel's and Michael's nightmares come alive.
Time: 1st May, after midnight
Place: Gabriel's room
Status: Private (Gabriel, Michael) - Complete
Summary: Gabriel has a nightmare. He wakes to find that it is still happening. Michael tries to help, but has his own nightmare to deal with as well.
And it was the Archangel Jibrail who dictated the Koran to Muhammad.
And during one of the suras, which dealt with terrible punishments and calamities, the heart of Jibrail the Angel of Mercy was overcome with horror and pity, and he faltered in his speech, and questioned Allah. For this, the gates of Heaven were shut to him upon his return, and he wandered the Earth for 21 days, away from his Creator.
~
My Lord. Father. This cannot be right. Why must events play out like this? Is there not a more merciful way?
Dost thou question My Plan, Gabriel?
No! I -
The Presence in him is suddenly weak, dwindling to a tiny, flickering flame, and he gasps, wrapping his arms around his middle. Father, please!
For thy doubt, Gaḇrî’ēl, thou art exiled from Heaven. Thou shalt return when thou learn faith.
And the gates of Heaven are shut to Gabriel, and the pain he feels is worse than when Lucifer Fell, for now he has been sent away from God.
~
Lucifer chooses Gabriel’s exile to come to him, to worsen the turmoil within him, and their conversation makes Gabriel far too uneasy.
The Morningstar inclines his head, and Gabriel finally sees emotion enter his eyes. The archangel shivers as Lucifer smiles a cold smile, jarring as steel.
“Oh, Gabriel, you are right to fear Falling. Imagine His light and love permeating every fibre of your being, your very essence - wait, I forgot, you still know and enjoy that feeling, do you not, shining archangel? Well, then, think of His Presence that you carry within you, intensified a hundredfold. Imagine existing only to do His work. And imagine suddenly having all that ripped from you, for the crimes of compassion and love. Imagine being Severed from His light and love, feeling that raw, gaping chasm in your core, like an empty vessel that has lost its purpose. Imagine the pain of Falling, of watching the light of the Silver City become a distant and unattainable star, of feeling flames scorch your wings. Picture the impact; imagine crashing into that barren, fiery realm that I now rule, organising that rabble of scared and hurt Fallen angels, remaking them so the pain is lessened and they can make themselves useful. Imagine ruling a realm of eternal pain and torture, after having basked in His love.”
And Gabriel knows what Lucifer has endured. The Presence is still within Gabriel; he is still in Grace, but he is cut off from Heaven and from God, and he feels so empty.
Gabriel does not lower his sword, but it is shaking, and Lucifer’s face is lit by the setting sun and by the dancing flames, steadily ebbing in brightness. “Do you regret it, then, Lucifer?”
Lucifer places a warm, strangely gentle hand on his own, pushing the sword down, and the sheer wrongness of this contact grates at Gabriel’s aura, but he doesn’t move. “Well? Do you?” He has told himself sternly for so many centuries to stop hoping, that the angel Lucifer was irretrievably gone, and yet…
A slow smirk begins to spread across Lucifer’s face. “Perhaps I did once, a very long time ago. But now, no. No longer. There are perks, you know. And has anyone ever warned you that being the Angel of Mercy could get you into trouble?”
And before Gabriel can react, Lucifer has leaned in, pressing heated lips against Gabriel’s own, tongue seeking entry. Gabriel stands frozen in utter shock, his very essence recoiling from the wrongness of the Devil’s kiss, like a dark chill spreading from his lips to the rest of his being, as though he is being poisoned. And yet, yet, it is… in a strange way… almost warm, perhaps almost pleasant -
He leaps back, shoving at the Morningstar, brightly flaming sword pointing at him, breathing hard. But his eyes widen as he realises that it is not Lucifer standing before him in the Arabian Desert; it is Michael. Michael’s eyes are hard, and his sword is in his hand, pointing at Gabriel.
“You’re barely able to be called an angel. Look at yourself, Gabriel. Your love for humans has made you weak. It’s caused you to be exiled, now.”
Gabriel backs away, feet slipping on the sand, but he hits Uriel, standing behind him. The Severer’s eyes are cold and merciless; his dreaded sword is also pointing at Gabriel.
“Why do you cling to Heaven, tread a knife’s edge, when it would be so much easier to just Fall?” Michael asks.
“Because he’s a hypocrite,” another voice chimes in. Raphael. The Healer’s usual gentle expression is gone, his eyes nearly as cold as Uriel’s as he glares at Gabriel. “He lectures me on holding on to faith, while we pretend that he was not exiled for three weeks for having lost faith in the Plan.”
“I did not lose faith,” Gabriel protests weakly, his face pale. “I felt sorry for the humans. Please, Raphael. Michael.” He gazes imploringly at his best friend, but the expression on the Warrior’s face makes him shiver.
“Isn’t it enough that you’re so close to Falling, Gabriel? Why do you try to drag me down as well?”
“Michael, I didn’t know what you felt for me!”
“O Fortitudo Dei, sancte Gabriel,” Uriel whispers mockingly, raising his sword, and Gabriel flinches. He tried to call out to God, to plead, anything, but the Presence within him is far too weak now, and Uriel is about to Sever his last tenuous link with his Father -
Uriel pauses, lowering his sword. “I should let Michael have the honour. It is only fitting, isn’t it? It was thanks to him that you could return from your exile, after all.”
“I regret it, you know,” Michael says thoughtfully. “Dobiel was much better than you ever were. Not as weak, for one thing. And he would never tempt another angel.”
“Give our regards to Lucifer, Gabriel,” Raphael smiles his usual gentle smile. “We do miss him, you know. We’ll miss you too.”
Michael steps closer, raising his sword. “Gaḇrî’ēl, for your sins, I cast you from the Presence and condemn you to Hell.”
“No! Please, no!” But Gabriel’s cry is extinguished by the pain, pain beyond anything he ever imagined, and he is Falling. He screams as he burns; his wings are on fire and the flames lick at his bare skin, searing right through his body as the last shred of Presence in him burns away despite his grasping to it like a drowning man…
He crashes onto a sharp, rocky shelf, the rock cutting into his body and through his soft blue-white feathers, and a soft laugh comes from his side as he cries out in pain. Lucifer is waiting there, and he extends a hand and helps Gabriel up, cradling him against his body so that the Messenger can stand despite his broken bones. Gabriel sways against him, too shocked and numb to say anything.
There is a full-length mirror before them, and Lucifer kisses Gabriel’s jaw lightly as he pulls the shivering no not angel demon closer, tilting his head up so that he can see their reflection.
Gabriel is nearly naked, for his clothes have burned away, and blood oozes from little cuts all over his bruised, broken body. He is paler than ever, and his eyes have the same empty, too-bright look about them as Lucifer’s. And his wings… They shine with the cold blue gleam of steel, each feather looking like a razor-sharp blade.
“Beautiful,” Lucifer whispers, and Gabriel shudders in revulsion. For a moment, he seems to see Michael in the mirror next to himself as the reflection wavers…
~*~
With a startled cry, Gabriel jerked awake. Only a dream. It was only a dream.
There was a hiss from the corner. Earl Grey was pressed against the wall, cowering behind Ta-Miu, who hissed at him again with her hackles raised. Gabriel stared at the cats for a moment, confused, before making to get out of bed -
colddarkaloneempty -
A soft whimper escaped him. “Father?” he whispered, but there was no reply. He curved his wings around himself, only to find that they were a dark steel-blue.
“NO!”
Gabriel slowly reached towards his wings, taking large handfuls of feathers in each hand, and began to rip them out. Blood welled up as the roots were pulled out with a sickening tearing sound, but he barely noticed, vision blurring with tears. Perhaps if he got all the dark feathers out, the light ones might grow back.