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CHARACTERS: Uriel (flamethrown) & Samael (andaclatter)
DATE/TIME: Sometime following this
LOCATION: Hospital
RATING: Tameish
WARNINGS: Cussing, mostly.
SUMMARY: Officer Archangel pays a visit to his wounded brother.
Uriel's strides were brisk as he stepped through the automatic doors of the hospital, long legs carrying him up to the location of the room where he'd been directed to. Samael was calling for him, and though in uniform, gun safely nestled against his side, this was more personal business than police. He was here for Samael.
Upon entering through the door to his brother's room, he immediately stepped over to the other angel's side, his warm hand slipping beneath Samael's to hold it in his. Concern drew his brows into a slight furrow.
"I'm here, Samael." His other hand curled tightly around the railing surrounding the bed.
Samael blinked up at him and it was only in this instant that he realized he hadn't been sure that Uriel would come. Strange that, though he trusted Azazel the fallen angel to deliver his message, he truly did not know if his brother would respond.
He smiled faintly, inwardly cursing that he was still so week. He thought that a week of lying around in a hospital bed was more exhausting than anything he'd experienced before.
"Uriel," he murmured. "You - " He looked down at his hand, held within Uriel's and though Samael was by far the larger of the two, there was something strangely protective in Uriel's gesture. Huh.
The younger angel squeezed that held hand, just slightly. "Did you think I wouldn't come for you?" No amount of hurt stung his words, but that look was acknowledged. Between coming from work to home then over to Leola's, Uriel truthfully hadn't been paying his other brothers outside of Michael much attention, and that had to change.
Now was about as good a time as any.
Samael sighed, almost resigned. "Honestly, Uriel. I couldn't call it. I guess I figured you were more likely to be - ah - sympathetic than Michael or Metatron." He shrugged and raised his other hand to rub his shaved head. It was still jarring to feel short bristles beneath his fingertips instead of a tumble of blonde curls.
"The Horsemen did this," he said, rather briskly. "Your colleagues are asking questions but I can't exactly tell the fucking police that Death, War, Famine and Pestilence decided to kick the shit out of me."
Uriel's brows furrowed even further at the admission.
"The Horsemen?" He didn't think to correct his brother over the fact that he himself was a policeman, but right now playing the angel took precedence over the cop. His roles were numerous these days, between angel, cop, and Carmine.
"Why would the Horsemen do this to you?" He understood they were cruel, neutral beings, but he also was under the impression that they didn't simply attack others, let alone an archangel, without a reason. Carelessness didn't seem to be in their nature.
"The Horsemen," said Samael. "Famine had it in for me after I broke his fucking wrist because he was being a fucking tool." Perhaps it was the lingering effect of painkillers in his system, or the strong antibiotics he was on, but he'd evidently forgotten how much or how little he'd intended to tell his brothers. "He'd abducted Echo? Cute little nymph. Couldn't let that slide." His fingers twitched a little and he raised his left arm, in its cast. "And evidently, neither could he."
He shifted a little in his bed. "Though I think they went for overkill." He bit his lip. "But I had to tell you 'cause I couldn't figure out what to tell, you know, regular police."
Slipping his other hand over Samael's, the other angel gave a light shake of his head. "It's good that you asked for me. You're not to blame here, brother." But he did have to wonder about that nymph. If only it would be easy to speak with the Horsemen, but he was aware they would keep their mouths shut. They saw it as revenge, and revenge dealt. There was nothing left to say.
A soft exhale left his lips. "Would you still like me to take your statement?"
Samael wrinkled his nose. "Maybe I'm not to blame but if I'd left Echo in Famine's hands, I wouldn't be here." His tone was mild but there was no mistaken the malevolence and ill will that rolled off him. "They'll pay, Uriel. My family won't fucking stand for this. I won't stand for it."
He closed his eyes. Tired. Fractious. "I'll give it to you but. Yeah. For now. Just - " Samael didn't know what he wanted to say. There was something soothing in having a brother close, some peace that he couldn't quite identify. Perhaps it was some echo of the home they had shared, so many thousands of years before. "Tell me what I've missed."
That much Uriel could understand. If it was distance Samael wanted from his own attack, it would be given. But that didn't mean what he was about to hear would be any easier to deal with.
Blue eyes flickered over to the machines in the room for just a moment. "Gabriel was kidnapped and beaten by Berith, Samael. Metatron also informed us that Na'amah was involved." His eyes returned to meet the other's. "He was returned to us tattered and bruised. Michael and I held Berith for a day until Gabriel was brought back. But he's safe now."
He wouldn't betray his brother's location, however, not even to another brother.
Samael's widened at that and he made an ill-advised attempt to sit more upright, relinquishing Uriel's hands so that he could haul himself up. An immediate head-rush lead to a litany of swearing.
"Is he okay?" he asked. Safe was one thing. Intact was another. This was something Samael understood; he was more than capable of inflicting suffering on others (as the Horsemen would find out, to their detriment) but he couldn't bear the notion that his gentle brother had been harmed. Blinking furiously to try to clear the stars from his vision, something else that Uriel said sunk in.
"Na'amah?"
Uriel curled his fingers around the cool metal of the railing, gripping tightly. "His ribs were broken, and he is bruised across his neck, wrists, and other parts of his body. He was also cut." The words pained him to reveal, but it was necessary for Samael to know a brother was wrongfully targetted.
"And yes, Na'amah."
Samael hissed. It was the closest he'd get to expressing any indication of pain. "Wonderful," he said, through gritted teeth. "We can compare rib fractures."
It was the height of indignity that the bed-sides were up, though it was a reasonable precaution to take for anyone with a head injury. He took a deep breath, head spinning, and his face had twisted into something that was not beautiful and something that could not be considered angelic. "She will be punished."
His words were coldly spoken, disguising the deep and sudden hatred he harboured that a concubine had defied him so.
Uriel held no love for Na'amah or any of Samael's wives, and so he kept his opinion to himself, figuring his opinion or feelings on the matter didn't need to be voiced. Instead, he relocated a hand to the injured angel's shoulder, resting there lightly.
"I would suggest taking it easy for now, Samael. Punishment can wait until you're better. In the meantime, Michael and I will watch for Berith and Na'amah. They won't get away with laying a finger on Gabriel."
Samael tried to resist but Uriel's hand on his shoulder was all it took for him to sink back onto the pillows. He was so angry, with himself and with the Horsemen and now with the demons.
"One thing, Uriel," he said, his voice strained and his eyes glinting. "Do not tell Na'amah that I know of her involvement. Far better that she think I'm estranged from the Archangels until I can lay my hands on her."
Those fingers remained on the blonde man's shoulder for some moments before they slid down, back to a hand. "I won't. I wasn't aware of her arrival until Metatron informed me, and as long as she is under the impression that I don't know she is either here or involved, I won't speak a word to her."
He squeezed his brother's hand. "For now, focus on resting."
Not even Samael could argue with Uriel. One conversation had taken it out of him. He was in no fit state to punish concubines or hunt down Horsemen or flay demons but he would be.
There was a natural order. It had been further upset by the attack on Gabriel but when Samael was back on his feet, he'd see order restored, at any cost.
DATE/TIME: Sometime following this
LOCATION: Hospital
RATING: Tameish
WARNINGS: Cussing, mostly.
SUMMARY: Officer Archangel pays a visit to his wounded brother.
Uriel's strides were brisk as he stepped through the automatic doors of the hospital, long legs carrying him up to the location of the room where he'd been directed to. Samael was calling for him, and though in uniform, gun safely nestled against his side, this was more personal business than police. He was here for Samael.
Upon entering through the door to his brother's room, he immediately stepped over to the other angel's side, his warm hand slipping beneath Samael's to hold it in his. Concern drew his brows into a slight furrow.
"I'm here, Samael." His other hand curled tightly around the railing surrounding the bed.
Samael blinked up at him and it was only in this instant that he realized he hadn't been sure that Uriel would come. Strange that, though he trusted Azazel the fallen angel to deliver his message, he truly did not know if his brother would respond.
He smiled faintly, inwardly cursing that he was still so week. He thought that a week of lying around in a hospital bed was more exhausting than anything he'd experienced before.
"Uriel," he murmured. "You - " He looked down at his hand, held within Uriel's and though Samael was by far the larger of the two, there was something strangely protective in Uriel's gesture. Huh.
The younger angel squeezed that held hand, just slightly. "Did you think I wouldn't come for you?" No amount of hurt stung his words, but that look was acknowledged. Between coming from work to home then over to Leola's, Uriel truthfully hadn't been paying his other brothers outside of Michael much attention, and that had to change.
Now was about as good a time as any.
Samael sighed, almost resigned. "Honestly, Uriel. I couldn't call it. I guess I figured you were more likely to be - ah - sympathetic than Michael or Metatron." He shrugged and raised his other hand to rub his shaved head. It was still jarring to feel short bristles beneath his fingertips instead of a tumble of blonde curls.
"The Horsemen did this," he said, rather briskly. "Your colleagues are asking questions but I can't exactly tell the fucking police that Death, War, Famine and Pestilence decided to kick the shit out of me."
Uriel's brows furrowed even further at the admission.
"The Horsemen?" He didn't think to correct his brother over the fact that he himself was a policeman, but right now playing the angel took precedence over the cop. His roles were numerous these days, between angel, cop, and Carmine.
"Why would the Horsemen do this to you?" He understood they were cruel, neutral beings, but he also was under the impression that they didn't simply attack others, let alone an archangel, without a reason. Carelessness didn't seem to be in their nature.
"The Horsemen," said Samael. "Famine had it in for me after I broke his fucking wrist because he was being a fucking tool." Perhaps it was the lingering effect of painkillers in his system, or the strong antibiotics he was on, but he'd evidently forgotten how much or how little he'd intended to tell his brothers. "He'd abducted Echo? Cute little nymph. Couldn't let that slide." His fingers twitched a little and he raised his left arm, in its cast. "And evidently, neither could he."
He shifted a little in his bed. "Though I think they went for overkill." He bit his lip. "But I had to tell you 'cause I couldn't figure out what to tell, you know, regular police."
Slipping his other hand over Samael's, the other angel gave a light shake of his head. "It's good that you asked for me. You're not to blame here, brother." But he did have to wonder about that nymph. If only it would be easy to speak with the Horsemen, but he was aware they would keep their mouths shut. They saw it as revenge, and revenge dealt. There was nothing left to say.
A soft exhale left his lips. "Would you still like me to take your statement?"
Samael wrinkled his nose. "Maybe I'm not to blame but if I'd left Echo in Famine's hands, I wouldn't be here." His tone was mild but there was no mistaken the malevolence and ill will that rolled off him. "They'll pay, Uriel. My family won't fucking stand for this. I won't stand for it."
He closed his eyes. Tired. Fractious. "I'll give it to you but. Yeah. For now. Just - " Samael didn't know what he wanted to say. There was something soothing in having a brother close, some peace that he couldn't quite identify. Perhaps it was some echo of the home they had shared, so many thousands of years before. "Tell me what I've missed."
That much Uriel could understand. If it was distance Samael wanted from his own attack, it would be given. But that didn't mean what he was about to hear would be any easier to deal with.
Blue eyes flickered over to the machines in the room for just a moment. "Gabriel was kidnapped and beaten by Berith, Samael. Metatron also informed us that Na'amah was involved." His eyes returned to meet the other's. "He was returned to us tattered and bruised. Michael and I held Berith for a day until Gabriel was brought back. But he's safe now."
He wouldn't betray his brother's location, however, not even to another brother.
Samael's widened at that and he made an ill-advised attempt to sit more upright, relinquishing Uriel's hands so that he could haul himself up. An immediate head-rush lead to a litany of swearing.
"Is he okay?" he asked. Safe was one thing. Intact was another. This was something Samael understood; he was more than capable of inflicting suffering on others (as the Horsemen would find out, to their detriment) but he couldn't bear the notion that his gentle brother had been harmed. Blinking furiously to try to clear the stars from his vision, something else that Uriel said sunk in.
"Na'amah?"
Uriel curled his fingers around the cool metal of the railing, gripping tightly. "His ribs were broken, and he is bruised across his neck, wrists, and other parts of his body. He was also cut." The words pained him to reveal, but it was necessary for Samael to know a brother was wrongfully targetted.
"And yes, Na'amah."
Samael hissed. It was the closest he'd get to expressing any indication of pain. "Wonderful," he said, through gritted teeth. "We can compare rib fractures."
It was the height of indignity that the bed-sides were up, though it was a reasonable precaution to take for anyone with a head injury. He took a deep breath, head spinning, and his face had twisted into something that was not beautiful and something that could not be considered angelic. "She will be punished."
His words were coldly spoken, disguising the deep and sudden hatred he harboured that a concubine had defied him so.
Uriel held no love for Na'amah or any of Samael's wives, and so he kept his opinion to himself, figuring his opinion or feelings on the matter didn't need to be voiced. Instead, he relocated a hand to the injured angel's shoulder, resting there lightly.
"I would suggest taking it easy for now, Samael. Punishment can wait until you're better. In the meantime, Michael and I will watch for Berith and Na'amah. They won't get away with laying a finger on Gabriel."
Samael tried to resist but Uriel's hand on his shoulder was all it took for him to sink back onto the pillows. He was so angry, with himself and with the Horsemen and now with the demons.
"One thing, Uriel," he said, his voice strained and his eyes glinting. "Do not tell Na'amah that I know of her involvement. Far better that she think I'm estranged from the Archangels until I can lay my hands on her."
Those fingers remained on the blonde man's shoulder for some moments before they slid down, back to a hand. "I won't. I wasn't aware of her arrival until Metatron informed me, and as long as she is under the impression that I don't know she is either here or involved, I won't speak a word to her."
He squeezed his brother's hand. "For now, focus on resting."
Not even Samael could argue with Uriel. One conversation had taken it out of him. He was in no fit state to punish concubines or hunt down Horsemen or flay demons but he would be.
There was a natural order. It had been further upset by the attack on Gabriel but when Samael was back on his feet, he'd see order restored, at any cost.