Reckonings (Mythklok, Chapter 53)
Title: Reckonings (Mythklok, Chapter 53)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Departures
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing. Also, CHARACTER DEATH.
Notes: Notes after the jump. Part 5 (the last chapter) of The Land of Oz. In case you're interested He Ain't Heavy is the story in which I introduced the "game" of Daddy Bowling Pins.
Sorry this one has been sorta delayed for epic headaches and whatnot.
Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU. If you're behind and for some strange reason wanna catch up, the best place is my fic journal, tikific, where you are welcome to come visit the bits I’ve written and maybe poke them with a pointed stick. I've also written a general introduction in case you wanna jump in the middle of things, or have forgotten all this stuff due to Real Life.
Last time: the guys helped out the Koori warriors in their last stand against Seth. But where is Seth?
Sydney….
Raziel had done something completely idiotic. And Charles had been generous in informing her of that fact.
Under heavy guard, she had had their children brought out to Sydney.
Charles was in fact in the middle of sharing his low opinion of this moronic move when she handed him Elias.
And then he had gathered up his son, and couldn't seem to let go.
They were sitting together now on the floor of something that looked like it had once been someone's well tended library. It was anything but well tended now. It was somewhere inside the building Seth had been using as a kind of headquarters. It seemed to have once been a labyrinthine complex of condominiums and offices. Whatever it had been, it was now a terrible wreck.
What bothered Charles most was the smell. Something, somewhere, was rotting. This wasn't surprising. The air conditioning had gone out quite some time ago - possibly when Seth's angelic engineers had fled, and his humans were unable to keep the generators going. Things festered quickly in the late spring heat and wet air. The smell of sweet that was a bit too sweet pervaded the room. But this was actually one of the better areas. Needless to say, the plumbing had evidently soon followed the air conditioning in its untimely demise.
Raziel had managed to locate a few undamaged children's books, and father and son were now learning many things about the native wildlife of the southern continent.
"ROO!" said Elias, pointing at the colorful drawing.
"That's right. That's a kangaroo," Charles encouraged, turning the page.
“WALLA!”
“Yeah. Wallaby. Which looks suspiciously like a goddam kangaroo.”
"NAKE!"
"Uh. OK. Let's say we skip his page?"
"BANDA!"
"No, Boon, that's a koala bear."
"BANDA!!"
"No, that's not-"
"BANDABANDA," squealed Elias, thumping the book for emphasis.
"Wait. You know damn well that's not a panda. You're just teasing Daddy."
Elias giggled merrily. Great, thought Charles. Punk'd by an infant.
"Are you teaching Daddy?"
Charles looked up to see Raziel grinning down at them. She held out her arms and Elias glommed into them.
"Yeah. Panda bears are evidently part of the native fauna of Australia."
"Do you like panda bears?" Raziel asked Elias, rubbing noses as he laughed.
"Oh, great, take HIS side!"
"Like you don't deserve it!"
"For what?"
"Did you introduce my dad to Hypnos?"
"They're both gardeners! And, Phanuel seemed a little lonely. Ya know, down in hell."
"Sariel! An Elder god! As my wicked stepmother? Isn’t that just asking for trouble?"
"They're just fucking walking together."
"But you know what walking leads to!"
"Maybe on your dates, Raziel!"
"Well. True."
"How's, uh.... How's Shiva, anyway?" Charles asked, more quietly.
"Wotan says, not good."
"Damn."
“The Koori wanna go Walkabout in here. You wanna come?”
“Yeah, sure,” said Charles, rising. “We weren’t doing anything USEFUL!” he said to Elias, who grinned an evil baby grin. He held out his arms, but Raziel turned, still holding Elias, and started to walk away.
"Hey, don't bogart my kid!" he said, running after her.
"I wanna baby," Raziel said, holding Elias tighter.
"Don't you already have two of the fucking things?"
"Your band took 'em. They're playing Death Metal Bowling Pins. Who knew those guys liked being knocked over so much?"
"I coulda told you that."
They started down the long hallway. It seemed to have no rhyme nor reason to it. There was debris everywhere, here an office chair, there a burned out stove, and over there, a stuffed and mounted moose head.
“So, no one’s seen Seth?” Charles asked.
“My brudder got off scaht-free. Agen.”
“Hey. Pickles.”
The drummer had approached in the company of some of the black Koori. It was strange to see the brothers when they were not in Dreamtime. They still looked shadowy, as if they were not quite all the way in the room. There were also a few of Phanuel's angels among the crowd. Charles assumed they were among the ones who had formerly worked for Seth. They looked nervous.
“Honored Excellent Charles. O Most Excellent Lady Raziel.” Charles and Raziel bowed uncomfortably, Charles shooting Raziel an annoyed glance over her obviously somewhat more exalted title.
"We are in the process of inspecting the premises, O excellent angels."
"As we have yet to locate Seth."
"Who has proved most elusive."
"As well as bogus."
There were nods from all parties, not just the Koori.
"So, no sign of him, where he went?" Charles asked.
"There is nothing, O my brother...."
"You can see the conditions of this place...."
"The landlord is no doubt most cheesed...."
"They will never regain their rental deposit...."
"We thought with your power, O angels, you might sense something."
"We're not exactly detectives," said Raziel, hefting Elias. "I mostly whack stuff with a sword. But we could take a look."
"Wak!" grinned Elias.
"Whack!" agreed his aunt. She set off with the Koori and Pickles, Charles following behind. The place was a complete mess. It looked almost as if Seth and destroyed it on purpose, as the damage seemed ubiquitous. He paused in a couple of the rooms to rifle through paperwork, or try to log on to a computer, but it looked like the aftermath of a Dethklok CD release party.
They were back in one of the hallways, chatting quietly, when Charles hung back for a moment. He listened carefully at one of the closed doors.
Was that a rustling he heard?
"Why are you guys going right by this door?" Charles asked.
"What door?" asked Raziel. "Sariel? Sariel?"
But he wasn't in the corridor any more.
The door led to a small, darkened hallway. Charles flinched as it unexpectedly shut behind him. He immediately sensed something was amiss. He was about to turn around to get the others when he heard again the faint rustling sound. He tried a door, and ended up entering a room.
Considering the surroundings, this room was oddly intact, “odd” being the key word. It looked like a magpie’s nest, strewn with fancy objects, many of dubious value. There were a few art pieces that looked like they’d been lifted from a local art museum. Ian Fairweather’s The Last Supper was being used as a coffee table. (Ganesh, who had evidently known the painter during his lifetime, called him “That Rotter.”) But the “collection” also included a set of plates commemorating the royal wedding and rather a lot of jewelry that Charles, being an angel and a sort of connoisseur of the bright and shiny, could easily tell was worthless costume crap.
He paused and looked at a sheet of paper. A rummage sale flyer.
From the Tomahawk Leader.
He froze as he felt the cold steel of a gun muzzle pressing against his head.
Charles let out a long sigh. “Seth I presume?”
"I'll see your fucking angel brains splattered on the fucking wall!
"After all this, you're gonna shoot me? With a gun?" Charles said disbelievingly.
“You killed my fucking kid you fucking angel homo bastard.”
Charles rolled his eyes. “First off, your epithet fails to completely characterize the complexities of my sexual orientation. But be that as it may, does it matter to you that your kid was an unspeakable horror?”
“You mess with me and mine! Your brains are gonna be spread all over the wall!”
"Seth, I don't suppose it would do any good to point out that this is idiotic?"
"You'll be fucking faggot splatter before you can scream for your fucking buddies, bitch."
Suddenly, there was a howl, like nothing of the earth.
And then Seth was laid out flat on the floor, Elias atop him, at full weight, wings unfurled, crushing his chest. Elias’ four arms were spread. The entire room was trembling. The air fairly crackled with magic.
Elias stared at Seth. His little eyes blazed.
Seth tried to mutter something, but couldn’t get the words out.
Raziel, who had rushed in just behind Elias, picked up the gun, which had been thrown aside, and quickly made a mince of it with her sword. A retinue of Koori and angels filed into the room. She nodded to Charles.
“Boon. Up,” Charles said quietly in Common Angelic.
Elias flicked his wings but did not move.
“Boon, it’s OK. Up.”
In one motion, and without taking his eyes from Seth, Elias was in Charles’s arms.
“It’s OK, baby. Daddy is OK,” Charles told him, stroking his still arched wings.
“What is that fucking thing?” Seth gasped as he was quickly surrounded by a small army of Koori and angels.
“My son. He’s a bit protective.”
“WHERE’S MY SON?”
All turned at the cry.
“Mom? Dad?” whispered Pickles, unbelieving. “Yer alive?”
And then Molly, hurtling past the guard, was on the floor, cradling Seth.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HEEEIM?” she shouted.
"He jest tried t' kill my friend!" Pickles shouted at her.
"It's OK, baby, Mommy is here," Molly told Seth.
"Mom!" Pickles protested.
"He took care of us! Me and your mother! Where were you?" Calvert demanded.
"Savin' da yooniverse," Pickles grumbled.
“There is something you need to see, Most Excellent Brother, Pickles,” one of the Koori told him. Pickles nodded and followed them out the door. Charles, checking that Seth was surrounded, made to follow, his son cradled in his arms.
"Sariel!"
"Yeah?" Charles looked up from where he was still trying to calm down Elias. Raziel appeared terribly upset.
"I couldn't hold him," she said, rubbing Elias on his back. "I mean, I literally couldn't hold on to him! When he wanted to fly to you?" She seemed genuinely baffled. "I’m so sorry. He tore right out of my arms."
Charles nodded. "He takes after Ganesh, I think. There's a lot in him, but it just doesn't come out very often." He inclined his head towards the door. “Wanna see what they found?”
“No, not really,” she admitted. He tilted his head again in a come along gesture, and, leaving Seth and his parents to be watched over by angels and Koori, they followed the small group down the dark hallway. There were already Koori guards posted outside one of the doorways.
“Most Bogus Seth’s suite,” said the Koori.
“Holy feck!” Pickles muttered.
Amber didn’t look up from her cell phone. “Is that Seth? He said he’d be home by now,” she grumbled.
And then she rubbed her pregnant belly.
Raziel flourished her sword. “Lady Bast was right. Everyone. Out of here,” she hissed.
“Lady Raz-“
“I said OUT, PICKLES!” But he continued to lightly hold her arm.
Raziel glared into his eyes. “This needs to be done.”
“Yeh. Mebbe. But nawt by yoo it don’t,” he told her.
She frowned and glanced at Amber, who was still texting obliviously. And then she drove the point of her sword into the floor. “SHIT!” she shouted.
“The landlord will make you pay for that,” Amber muttered.
“It’s OK, dood,” Pickles told Raziel.
“Raziel,” Charles ventured. “I think there is someone who might be able to help us with this. Someone who owes us a favor."
Raziel frowned, and then nodded. "I think I wanna see my kids," she said.
"I think I wanna see yer kids," Pickles sighed.
Charles felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He knew immediately what it was, but had never heard such a thing so close.
They approached the area of the complex where Raziel had left her twins in the care Dethklok.
The game of Death Metal Bowling Pins having evidently come to a halt, Skwisgaar was sitting on the couch playing riffs. Abby and Liam sat on the floor, watching him intently. After he played a run, no matter how complicated he made it, the twins would then sing the passage. Perfectly. And in perfectly harmony.
"What the fuck?" asked Charles.
"Oh, they do that," Raziel told him. "They were singing along with the Angelic Choir before they were born, remember? Isn’t it funny?” she asked, sitting down next to Abby to stroke her hair. “Wotan can sing all right, of course, but I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.”
“BOO!” said Abby, who was wriggling and gesturing towards her adored cousin. Charles reluctantly let the boy go to the floor, where he favored Abby with a sloppy baby kiss, and then the boy watched, apparently as fascinated as the adults, as the twins and Skwisgaar played and otherworldly game of dueling banjos.
“Dude, we should get some of this WEIRD SHIT on the next record!” Nathan told them.
“Fine with me,” laughed Raziel. “You can’t identify them, of course. But I’m not sure how long Dick Knubbler could deal with my brats.”
“We’ll deal with your brats!” Nathan announced, hefting Liam overhead. “They’re METAL BABIES.”
“Would you guys mind watching my metal babies a while longer? I should get over and check on Wotan. And….” She looked sadly at Charles.
“We gotta go too,” Charles told her, picking up Elias, who insisted on favoring Abby with a gooey goodbye baby kiss first.
“You and your baby love god,” Raziel laughed softly as the three made their way into the hallway.
“She leads him on,” Charles said, though more quietly than how he usually said it.
"Angel Dodge Ball," Nathan was shouting. 'I call, MURDERFACE!" It was followed by the sound of Liam giggling and Murderfaces' disappointingly girlie scream.
“Charles, dood.”
Charles looked sadly at Pickles, who had followed them out. “We’ll catch up,” he told Raziel, who nodded and departed. “Yeah?”
“Dood. Yoo saw my folks?”
“Are you relieved they’re alive?”
“Wul. Yeah. But, dood.”
“Then, that’s something.” Charles was looking at Elias, not Pickles.
“He tried t’ feckin’ destroy da world dis time! And… And you saw dem!”
“Pickles, your parents aren’t … functional," he finished lamely.
“Why can’t dey see? He’s some kinda anti-Christ or somethin’.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. Actually, He-“
“Charles! It ain’t feckin’ right!”
“Pickles. I am really sorry, but I just don’t have time to solve this right now. Maybe when you get back, we can get someone for you to talk to-“
“You gonna chuck me out t’ rehab again?”
“NO! Look, Pickles, Raziel and I had shitty childhoods-“
“Yeah. Only I aint’ got a thousand year t’ feckin’ get over it.”
Charles was going to answer, but Elias had stuck some baby fingers in his mouth. He looked down on the one person it was physically impossible for him to get annoyed - well, too annoyed - at. He glanced up at Pickles. “You’re right. You're right. Look, when we get back, OK? We’ll talk about this. Ganesh is with Shiva right now, and I really have to get us over there.”
“Da blue dood…?”
Charles shook his head.
“Oh. Oh, feck.”
Charles nodded, and departed, leaving Pickles quite alone.
Ganesh was sitting on a plastic chair beneath the NO SMOKING sign, letting his cigarette go to ash.
It wasn't a hospital, but it was a lot nicer than Seth's headquarters.
“Is your dad inside?” Charles asked, sitting down beside him, Elias on his lap.
Ganesh nodded. “They have called… They have called upon my Uncle Brahma.”
“Yes?”
“Sariel. He’s not going to recover.”
Ganesh’s breathing had become rough. He hunched over, shutting his eyes tight.
Charles reached out tentatively. His hand came to rest very lightly on the back of Ganesh’s neck. Ganesh reached up and grasped the hand, as tightly as he could.
"Ganesha."
Parvati's voice was soft. Ganesh stubbed out his cigarette and followed her into Shiva's room.
Ganesh's Uncle Brahma was in one corner, not, for once, harrumphing and making a fuss. It's ghoulish, Ganesh thought. Can't he even wait? Wotan stood sadly along one wall, holding very tightly to Raziel.
"My son," Shiva said. His voice was so weak, Ganesh had to lean over the bed to hear him. He looked so tiny, like a child's toy. "It is my time. I will grant you all my powers."
“No," Ganesh told him. He had just come to the decision, but it seemed the right one. "No. You will divide your powers. Myself, and my mother.”
Parvati looked honestly surprised, but recovered herself to nod.
“All right, then it shall be done,” Shiva said. He reached out, and grasped Ganesh and Parvati’s hands for a time. Ganesh was silent, feeling the power flow through him. He glanced at his mother. She had transformed into her Kali manifestation, taking in the destructive magic. How had one person even held on to so much?
And then they had taken it all: all that was left.
“Now you will bring Brahma to me,” Shiva told them at last.
Ganesh cast a glance back at his uncle, confused at first. “Oh. We have him outside. Let me go bring him in.”
Ganesh returned with Charles, who was holding Elias. Ganesh grabbed the boy, and laid him gently down beside Shiva. "Gamp," the boy said.
And Shiva smiled and brought Elias' ear close to him, and whispered for a time in his ear.
And then Elias linked four arms around his grandfather's neck.
And Elias slowly drifted to sleep. And Shiva drifted too, to a place, very very far away.
Charles had delayed going back to Seth's headquarters. He told everyone he had to stay with Ganesh until Brahma was prepared for he and Wotan to escort Shiva to the Heavens.
Charles told himself he was also cringing about the terrible smell.
The thought of facing Pickles again was one he was careful to not let cross his mind.
In the end, Phanuel had called for the meeting. Hypnos was there too, the ethereal purple-haired and -winged Elder god standing with one delicate hand laced around Phanuel's courteous arm. The Seraph had wanted to inquire after the angels he had sent to assist in guarding the Koori's sacred place. The request was almost amusingly banal: they needed jobs, and faced rather a lot of hostility towards their kind in the world at large.
Charles promised to look into positions for them at Mordhaus, and also said he would ask of Ganesh and Wotan, when they were ready to talk about such things again.
"You think you can put Seth back to sleep?" Charles asked Hypnos.
"Should be no problem," she assured him. "I have a lot of dream magic this week. Yolanda's fiery sister Conchita, just ran off with the Innkeepers son!"
"WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT?" Raziel, who was apparently always ready to talk about such things, wailed.
"Giant ratings," grinned Hypnos. "We had a season high of viewers in the 18 to 45 demographic! But first, we need to put Seth back to his True Form," she warned.
"Dood. Is dat safe?" Pickles asked. He had been hanging back and mostly moping.
"We will be fine." Hypnos glanced at Phanuel, who beamed back at her. She pushed her glasses up her nose. Charles, who had had a terrible time focusing on the Elder god the first time he met her, noticed that she seemed somehow more distinct standing with Phanuel. Raziel raised an eyebrow at him and mouthed "mother-in-law." He grinned: a smile not without a touch of malice, and they followed Phanuel and Hypnos into the heavily guarded room where Seth and his parents awaited.
They were, rather unsurprisingly; sitting together on the couch, watch Corazon de Azul.
"What is this THING?" Molly demanded as Hypnos breezily walked past her and extended her hands towards Seth.
"Come along, my brother," she told him. "It's time." Seth quietly rose and, without any of his characteristic muttering or cursing, took one of Hypnos's hands and started to follow her.
"Where do you think you're going?" Calvert demanded.
"That's our son!" Molly wailed as several Koori held her back.
"Your son is filled with bogosity," the Koori scolded.
"He is most, most un-heinous."
"As well as a giant asswipe."
"I want my son!" Molly told them.
"You must let Hypnos do her work."
"To remove the most gnarly threat to our thrashing."
"Plus, she is a bodacious demon chick."
Hypnos grinned and her face actually colored, apparently at being termed bodacious. "Come walk with us, into my garden." She opened a door that hadn't been there before, and escorted a strangely cooperative Seth out into a lush garden. Charles recognized the place: peacocks and pyramids. He, Raziel, Pickles, Phanuel, and a few of the Koori brothers followed them out.
"All right, let's get a look at you," Hypnos told Seth. "You might want to keep your distance," she told the small group standing nearby.
She gripped Seth's hands. She closed her eyes, and so did he. Suddenly, he was not Seth any more. He was a fantastic floating thing: an enormous translucent bell, big as a circus tent, with many many many long legs, dangling, floating like wind chimes.
"He's a feckin' ... jellyfish?" Pickles asked.
"Wait! Was that HIM keeping us at the compound?" Raziel asked.
"Burning my gods damned boyfriend," Charles muttered darkly.
Hypnos raised her arms. She was standing in the middle of the creature that had been Seth, but, although the tentacles floated in a tangle everywhere around her, she appeared to be completely unaffected by the poisonous stings. The giant jellyfish thing slowly floated down as she lowered her arms, and then appeared to melt into the loamy earth of her garden.
Hypnos opened her eyes. "He's gone below to sleep," she explained.
"My parents ain't gonna like dis," Pickles sighed. "Mebbe you'd be better off puttin' dem t' sleep."
Hypnos stopped and looked at him sadly. She put one hand on his shoulder. "My dear," she told him, "they are already asleep."
"It's gonna start in a minute!" Amber muttered, not taking her eyes from her PDA.
"I'll be there, dear," said the old man. "Wouldn't miss it!"
"Thank you. Uh. Father," Charles said awkwardly.
"My residence is outside of time," the Creator assured him and Raziel. "Her ... pregnancy will not progress."
"You don't think think she'll notice?" Charles asked.
"That one?" said Raziel bitterly.
"The child is ... Those creatures are outside my Creation," the Creator told them. "I have never understood them too well. I have misunderstood many things." He looked over at Elias, in Charles' arms. Charles somewhat reluctantly handed the child over to him. The Creator gratefully received a hug. "You are getting very big, aren't you?" he asked. To Charles, he said, "And your companion, Shri Ganesha? I had heard that his father...."
"Shiva, yeah. Brahma took him up to the Heavens."
"Please, convey my regret, Sariel. Ganesha is a decent man."
Charles nodded. His Father occasionally visited Ganesh's residence to see Elias. He generally arranged not to be around during these encounters, so Ganesh was there instead to supervise. He wondered if the Creator had any inkling that Ganesh had offered to kill him for Charles.
"We should, maybe, get going?" Raziel said.
"You realize, my little one," the Creator said, handing Elias back to Charles, but looking to Raziel, "your Mother is still at large?"
"As long as she stays on her side of the fucking universe and leaves me to raise my kids," Raziel grumbled.
"Her motives have never been clear to me. However, you did take away her revenge."
Raziel looked at him, her dark eyes dangerous. "As long as she stays on her side of the fucking universe," she repeated.
Charles wandered down the corridors at Mordhaus, his wings out, red-faced, crying baby cradled in his arms.
“What’s the ISSUE HERE?” inquired Nathan Explosion.
“We’re teething,” Charles told him. He tried to nudge his glasses back up his nose, but they just fell right back down again.
“Oh, is he getting HIS FANGS?” Nathan asked excitedly.
“No, Nathan,” Charles sighed. “Just baby teeth.”
“Fangs would be cool.”
“My baby does not have fangs. Nor devil horns.”
“Yeah, but he’s got wings and extra arms.”
“Well. Yeah. I just…. I just can’t seem to find anything to calm him down. And I don’t wanna wake… You know….”
“Is Ganesh dude still…?”
“Yeah.”
Nathan extended his arms and Charles handed the blubbering Elias over to him.
“You need to RUB THE GUMS,” Nathan explained, inserting a very metal thumb into the baby’s mouth and demonstrating. Elias hitched his cries, and then closed his eyes and sucked gently on Nathan’s thumb. “SEE?”
“Fuck!” said Charles, hitching up his pajama bottoms (or rather, Ganesh’s pajama bottoms) which just fell back down again. “How did you know how to do that?”
“How did you NOT know how to do that? How did you get a LICENSE to have a baby?”
“You don’t need a license to get a kid!”
“You don’t need a license to get a kid?” Nathan asked disbelievingly. Elias had now slumped contentedly against his shoulder.
“No.”
“You must need PAPERWORK?”
“No. You just ... get a kid.”
“Huh. That’s sorta fucked up.” The two men, Nathan holding a now dozing Elias, began to walk. “Anyway, you need to get him a TEETHING THING.”
“A teething thing?”
“Something to BITE ON.”
“Hrm. Is this something that they make for babies?”
“Yeah, dude.”
Charles was taking out his Dethphone.
“I think that thing might be kinda DANGEROUS,” Nathan noted. "It's POINTY!"
“Uh, no, I’m gonna call RAZIEL,” Charles said, hitting the speed dial. “Hey, Raziel! I need a baby biting thing! A…”
“TEETHING RING.”
“Teething ring. Yeah, whatever diamond-studded made only in Denmark yuppie crap you got. What? Yeah, OF COURSE it’s a fucking emergency! It’s for your PRECIOUS NEPHEW and FUTURE SON IN LAW! Yeah, get your angel ass down here. Uh-huh. Hi toWotan. Bye.”
Nathan was grinning. “You really are A BASTARD.”
“You have no idea.” They had just arrived at Mordhaus’ media room. There was only one occupant. “Hey, Pickles, could you change it to some kinda soothing crap? Something with monkeys or some shit? My kid is being fussy. Pickles?” Charles then glanced up at the TV screen. “Oh fuck,” he said. Nathan took a seat next to Pickles, Elias on his lap, and they watched.
“So, Molly and Calvert, you’re telling us you think your son, Seth, was misunderstood?” asked the very blond Exlax News anchor.
“Yes, to the end of his days,” Molly wailed, while Calvert stood looking stalwart.
"Oh, Christ," said Charles.
"What happened to Seth?" the anchor blurbled.
"He was just starting to rebuild his life. It was the ANGELS!" Molly sobbed, breaking down.
"Yes," said Calvert, patting Molly's shoulder. "That's what happened. THE ANGELS."
"The angels WHAT?" Charles shouted. "What did we fucking do? Ask them you blond bubblehead!"
"Angels: threat or menace? We'll ask our Exlax News panel of experts!"
"Wull, Shannon," said the balding man, "I think that angels are deviants working for Satan...."
"Phanuel killed Satan! Are they stupid?"
"Charles, you're gonna wake your kid," Nathan scolded. Charles frowned and put a hand on Elias' head. He grabbed a likely looking remote control and managed to get the sound off. He looked over at Pickles.
The drummer was staring. Just staring.
“Did you want to ride?”
Wotan looked up from where he sat in his stables.
“I would like to ride,” he told Raziel, “with my best friend. An idiotic blue bastard.”
“That fucking bull,” said Raziel, sitting down next to him.
“That fucking bull,” said Wotan, slinging an arm around her. “Never could hunt worth a damn with him crashing around on that thing.”
“Did he give Nandi to Ganesha?”
“Nandi has taken to Sariel! Gods help him!”
“You mean Sariel!? Or Nandi?”
“Haha! Both!”
"I've heard there's good hunting. Up in the Heavens."
"In Brahma's fucking garden? I hope Shiva makes a mess of it. Maybe I'll send him some tigers."
"They'd trample the azaleas!"
"A right mess. A right mess." He looked up to Sleipnir, who whinnied. "Would you be up for a ride today M'Lady?"
"Sure," she said, standing.
"You're not gonna go spend three hours changing into something fancy?"
"Naw. I thought maybe we could just get on your mount and go."
"That's just what I planned to do. Let's go then."
“Didn't shave?
"No."
“I hate fucking beards. I did tell you that?”
“You have. Repeatedly.”
"Just hanging out?" Charles sat down on the couch where Ganesh was hanging out, and had in fact been hanging out for the past three days.
Charles located himself in the middle of Ganesh's lap, bumping away Ganesh's Financial Times.
"You are a stray cat," Ganesh mused, flicking hair out of Charles' eyes.
"What good could that paper be, anyway? It's pink."
"Sariel-"
"Charles."
Ganesh blinked.
"I think it's the name I wanna go by now."
"It's a human name."
"My dad likes it. And I never fucking liked Sariel."
"All right. Charles. But you know, Lady Raziel...."
"Will keep calling me fucking Sariel until the world stops spinning. Yeah."
Ganesh smiled. “I have been thinking.”
“Yeah?”
“With my father’s … passing, I think it meet to now share a portion of my duties with the Eastern Kingdom with my mother.”
“A retirement?”
“Semi-retirement.”
“That’s good. You always hated that fucking job.”
“I did?”
“You came home every night bitching about horrid people!”
“I suppose so. At any rate, I thought to devote some time to an apprenticeship, with Elegba.”
“Just keep it a safe gods damn distance from the house?”
“Well, I suppose that’s a good point,” Ganesh allowed. “And to raising our son.”
“Cool.”
“You don’t have any objections? Or second thoughts?”
“Fuck no. You gonna greet me when I come home with slippers and a martini?”
“Well…”
“And a blow job?”
“You are impossible!”
“I am. I really am.” Charles looked up. "Will you come some place with me?" he asked.
"Where, exactly?"
The two men picked their way down the rocky shore.
"He said it was down this way," Charles said.
"You haven't been, prior to this?" Ganesh asked.
"No. Oh there it is."
It was under a lovely tree, just as Jacque had promised. There was only a very small grave marker.
Charles sat down nearby, on the grass, next to the place where his mother's body lay.
And then quite lost himself for a time. He had no idea who he was or where he was. He hugged his knees. There just wasn't anything there.
He sat up a little later. He couldn't have told you how long. His wings were wrapped around him. He had gone to True Form, without realizing it.
"Ruined another fucking jacket," he whispered.
"We will buy you another," Ganesh said quietly. "It will give Lady Raziel something to occupy herself." The god was sitting comfortably beside him, hair hanging in his face, as it always was. Charles reached over and pushed a strand out of Ganesh's eyes. There was still a burn mark on his cheek, though it had much faded, thanks to Charles obsessively applying Ganesh's smelly goo to it.
"Are you talkin' with my Tzaphy?" They both looked up to see Jacque approaching, hefting an apparently delighted Elias.
"Uh, I guess so," said Charles.
"I come down here, some days a week, and we chat," Jacque told them. "Sen Michel is fine, dear. Big as a house," he said, addressing the grave site.
"Maaaa!" laughed Elias.
"That's right, we're talking to your Maman. Well, of course he'll be handsome, Tzaphy! He's the spit and image of me!"
"My Auntie claims he is actually the spit and image of my Uncle Brahma," Ganesh told him, squinting into the sun.
"You lost your Papa, boy?" Jacque asked. Ganesh nodded sadly. "They tell me it was a man's death, riding a bull, unleashing some fucking tigers!"
"He exited ... In a brave manner."
"Stuff of legend, your Papa," he said, handing off Elias to the still True Formed Charles, who wrapped his arms and wings about the boy.
Ganesh nodded as Jacque fished a bottle of run and some glasses out of his jacket.
"Now, your Uncle Brahma on the other hand ... prize fucking asshole," Jacque attested, handing off a glass to Ganesh.
To Charles's surprise, Ganesh laughed. And laughed rather loudly.
"He is. He really is," he said, wiping a tear and taking a sip. "He has taken to Sariel though."
"How could you not like my Charles, eh?" Jacque asked, placing another glass in Charles' shaking hand. "I poured that one for Sen Michel!" he boomed as Charles took a sip.
"No rum," Charles told curious Elias. "Not until you're at least 847 years old."
"This is a lovely spot, Jacque," Ganesh told him rising and stretching and holding out his glass.
Jacque filled the glass, and the tipped the bottle out, pouring a shot on Tzaphkiel's grave.
"I sometimes bring some grub and have a picnic. What do you think, Sen Michel?"
"Nic!" the baby clapped.
"Don't think I'm hungry right now, Papa," Charles, holding the baby, told him.
"You? Not hungry?" Ganesh asked gently.
"You have to feed the kid! He's a growing boy!" Although Jacque had given no signal, some servants had arrived with a large picnic basket and a blanket, which Jacque and Ganesh spread out on the soft, grassy ground next to the grave.
"I called that asshole, Uncle Brahma, and he sent along something," Jacque announced, bringing forth a fragrant, disk shaped object.
"BIE!" squealed Elias, who already knew a good thing when he saw it. Jacque grabbed him and set him next to it.
"Is that from Auntie?" asked Charles, his eyes widening.
"I thought you weren't hungry," Ganesh smiled. He gestured to Charles, who removed his badly torn jacket and shirt
"Just one slice!"
"You'll need to eat your dinner first," Ganesh said, carefully folding the damaged clothes and setting them aside.
"Papa! Just one slice," Charles appealed.
"Aw, I think that'll be OK just this once. What do you think, Tzaphy? Yeah. She thinks it's fine!"
"Does she always agree with you, Jacque?" Ganesh asked, uncorking a wine bottle.
"She's a good conversationalist!" Jacque declared, winking and getting his cup filled.
Ganesh filled up Charles’ cup. Charles looked at it for a moment, and then leaned over, and poured it over his mother’s grave. “But, I’m eating all the pie,” he told her.
“BIE!” Elias repeated.
“You gotta walk for it young man. C’mon, walk!” Jacque declared, setting the boy down a few small steps away from him and holding up a slice. “Walk for Papa!” Young Elias’ face took on an expression of firm determination. He took a few stumbling baby steps, collapsing into Jacque’s lap.
Jacque held the pie plate up out of the boy’s reach. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m keeping all to myself.” Elias squealed at the terrible betrayal, clambering into Jacque’s lap, and then pushing his grandfather down and climbing up his body to the tantalizing slice as they both laughed.
Ganesh smiled over to Charles, who was using the melee as cover to grab his second slice. “Charles! Do not bogart my Auntie’s pie!” Ganesh scolded, grabbing at the plate.
“MOOOOOM!” Charles shouted as they wrestled over the pie.
They were shouting. Screaming. Roaring.
And the band hadn’t even taken the stage yet.
From backstage, Pickles looked over the roiling crowd. He was in makeup, and ready to go. He wanted to go bother Charles in the control room, a sort of tradition, but reminded himself their manager wasn’t there. It was fine, of course. Charles wouldn’t have let anything go forward if it weren’t all fine. After all these years, this stuff really ran itself. And he needed the time off, even Nathan, Mr. Comp Time, agreed on that one. Ganesh didn’t even seem like the same person, lately - he seemed hollowed out somehow.
Things should be fine back here.
But they weren’t. And Pickles wasn’t precisely sure why. Knowing he was there, their guardian angel, in the control room, worried about everything. At the last minute, Pickles had joked they needed to train a few of the Gears to worry. They had all stared at him, or stared down at their knives and Gameboys. And Charles had looked concerned and asked if he should cancel his vacation and attend the concert anyway. But it wasn’t anything, really. It wasn’t anything Pickles could put his finger on. Hiring a worrier, how lame! Ganesh had lost his dad. They needed to deal.
Pickles looked back from the crowd. He felt his chest. He felt his throat. What was that shit he’d just taken? He couldn’t quite remember. The same as always. His heart thumped and rattled in his chest. He sat down. He felt faint. Was he going to pass out?
His heart was now rattling, bumping his rib cage. He couldn't breathe any more. His throat had closed.
His palms were sweaty.
His heart. His pounding heart.
He was going to die. Right here. Sitting here on the edge of the stage. He was going to die.
"Pickle? Ams you OK?"
He looked up to the sound of Toki!s soft voice.
"Gonna die, Tok," he choked.
"No," Toki assured him, sitting down beside him. "Toki ams here. You ams fines."
And Toki slung an arm over his friend's shoulders. And they sat like that for a time.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Departures
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, swearing. Also, CHARACTER DEATH.
Notes: Notes after the jump. Part 5 (the last chapter) of The Land of Oz. In case you're interested He Ain't Heavy is the story in which I introduced the "game" of Daddy Bowling Pins.
Sorry this one has been sorta delayed for epic headaches and whatnot.
Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU. If you're behind and for some strange reason wanna catch up, the best place is my fic journal, tikific, where you are welcome to come visit the bits I’ve written and maybe poke them with a pointed stick. I've also written a general introduction in case you wanna jump in the middle of things, or have forgotten all this stuff due to Real Life.
Last time: the guys helped out the Koori warriors in their last stand against Seth. But where is Seth?
Sydney….
Raziel had done something completely idiotic. And Charles had been generous in informing her of that fact.
Under heavy guard, she had had their children brought out to Sydney.
Charles was in fact in the middle of sharing his low opinion of this moronic move when she handed him Elias.
And then he had gathered up his son, and couldn't seem to let go.
They were sitting together now on the floor of something that looked like it had once been someone's well tended library. It was anything but well tended now. It was somewhere inside the building Seth had been using as a kind of headquarters. It seemed to have once been a labyrinthine complex of condominiums and offices. Whatever it had been, it was now a terrible wreck.
What bothered Charles most was the smell. Something, somewhere, was rotting. This wasn't surprising. The air conditioning had gone out quite some time ago - possibly when Seth's angelic engineers had fled, and his humans were unable to keep the generators going. Things festered quickly in the late spring heat and wet air. The smell of sweet that was a bit too sweet pervaded the room. But this was actually one of the better areas. Needless to say, the plumbing had evidently soon followed the air conditioning in its untimely demise.
Raziel had managed to locate a few undamaged children's books, and father and son were now learning many things about the native wildlife of the southern continent.
"ROO!" said Elias, pointing at the colorful drawing.
"That's right. That's a kangaroo," Charles encouraged, turning the page.
“WALLA!”
“Yeah. Wallaby. Which looks suspiciously like a goddam kangaroo.”
"NAKE!"
"Uh. OK. Let's say we skip his page?"
"BANDA!"
"No, Boon, that's a koala bear."
"BANDA!!"
"No, that's not-"
"BANDABANDA," squealed Elias, thumping the book for emphasis.
"Wait. You know damn well that's not a panda. You're just teasing Daddy."
Elias giggled merrily. Great, thought Charles. Punk'd by an infant.
"Are you teaching Daddy?"
Charles looked up to see Raziel grinning down at them. She held out her arms and Elias glommed into them.
"Yeah. Panda bears are evidently part of the native fauna of Australia."
"Do you like panda bears?" Raziel asked Elias, rubbing noses as he laughed.
"Oh, great, take HIS side!"
"Like you don't deserve it!"
"For what?"
"Did you introduce my dad to Hypnos?"
"They're both gardeners! And, Phanuel seemed a little lonely. Ya know, down in hell."
"Sariel! An Elder god! As my wicked stepmother? Isn’t that just asking for trouble?"
"They're just fucking walking together."
"But you know what walking leads to!"
"Maybe on your dates, Raziel!"
"Well. True."
"How's, uh.... How's Shiva, anyway?" Charles asked, more quietly.
"Wotan says, not good."
"Damn."
“The Koori wanna go Walkabout in here. You wanna come?”
“Yeah, sure,” said Charles, rising. “We weren’t doing anything USEFUL!” he said to Elias, who grinned an evil baby grin. He held out his arms, but Raziel turned, still holding Elias, and started to walk away.
"Hey, don't bogart my kid!" he said, running after her.
"I wanna baby," Raziel said, holding Elias tighter.
"Don't you already have two of the fucking things?"
"Your band took 'em. They're playing Death Metal Bowling Pins. Who knew those guys liked being knocked over so much?"
"I coulda told you that."
They started down the long hallway. It seemed to have no rhyme nor reason to it. There was debris everywhere, here an office chair, there a burned out stove, and over there, a stuffed and mounted moose head.
“So, no one’s seen Seth?” Charles asked.
“My brudder got off scaht-free. Agen.”
“Hey. Pickles.”
The drummer had approached in the company of some of the black Koori. It was strange to see the brothers when they were not in Dreamtime. They still looked shadowy, as if they were not quite all the way in the room. There were also a few of Phanuel's angels among the crowd. Charles assumed they were among the ones who had formerly worked for Seth. They looked nervous.
“Honored Excellent Charles. O Most Excellent Lady Raziel.” Charles and Raziel bowed uncomfortably, Charles shooting Raziel an annoyed glance over her obviously somewhat more exalted title.
"We are in the process of inspecting the premises, O excellent angels."
"As we have yet to locate Seth."
"Who has proved most elusive."
"As well as bogus."
There were nods from all parties, not just the Koori.
"So, no sign of him, where he went?" Charles asked.
"There is nothing, O my brother...."
"You can see the conditions of this place...."
"The landlord is no doubt most cheesed...."
"They will never regain their rental deposit...."
"We thought with your power, O angels, you might sense something."
"We're not exactly detectives," said Raziel, hefting Elias. "I mostly whack stuff with a sword. But we could take a look."
"Wak!" grinned Elias.
"Whack!" agreed his aunt. She set off with the Koori and Pickles, Charles following behind. The place was a complete mess. It looked almost as if Seth and destroyed it on purpose, as the damage seemed ubiquitous. He paused in a couple of the rooms to rifle through paperwork, or try to log on to a computer, but it looked like the aftermath of a Dethklok CD release party.
They were back in one of the hallways, chatting quietly, when Charles hung back for a moment. He listened carefully at one of the closed doors.
Was that a rustling he heard?
"Why are you guys going right by this door?" Charles asked.
"What door?" asked Raziel. "Sariel? Sariel?"
But he wasn't in the corridor any more.
The door led to a small, darkened hallway. Charles flinched as it unexpectedly shut behind him. He immediately sensed something was amiss. He was about to turn around to get the others when he heard again the faint rustling sound. He tried a door, and ended up entering a room.
Considering the surroundings, this room was oddly intact, “odd” being the key word. It looked like a magpie’s nest, strewn with fancy objects, many of dubious value. There were a few art pieces that looked like they’d been lifted from a local art museum. Ian Fairweather’s The Last Supper was being used as a coffee table. (Ganesh, who had evidently known the painter during his lifetime, called him “That Rotter.”) But the “collection” also included a set of plates commemorating the royal wedding and rather a lot of jewelry that Charles, being an angel and a sort of connoisseur of the bright and shiny, could easily tell was worthless costume crap.
He paused and looked at a sheet of paper. A rummage sale flyer.
From the Tomahawk Leader.
He froze as he felt the cold steel of a gun muzzle pressing against his head.
Charles let out a long sigh. “Seth I presume?”
"I'll see your fucking angel brains splattered on the fucking wall!
"After all this, you're gonna shoot me? With a gun?" Charles said disbelievingly.
“You killed my fucking kid you fucking angel homo bastard.”
Charles rolled his eyes. “First off, your epithet fails to completely characterize the complexities of my sexual orientation. But be that as it may, does it matter to you that your kid was an unspeakable horror?”
“You mess with me and mine! Your brains are gonna be spread all over the wall!”
"Seth, I don't suppose it would do any good to point out that this is idiotic?"
"You'll be fucking faggot splatter before you can scream for your fucking buddies, bitch."
Suddenly, there was a howl, like nothing of the earth.
And then Seth was laid out flat on the floor, Elias atop him, at full weight, wings unfurled, crushing his chest. Elias’ four arms were spread. The entire room was trembling. The air fairly crackled with magic.
Elias stared at Seth. His little eyes blazed.
Seth tried to mutter something, but couldn’t get the words out.
Raziel, who had rushed in just behind Elias, picked up the gun, which had been thrown aside, and quickly made a mince of it with her sword. A retinue of Koori and angels filed into the room. She nodded to Charles.
“Boon. Up,” Charles said quietly in Common Angelic.
Elias flicked his wings but did not move.
“Boon, it’s OK. Up.”
In one motion, and without taking his eyes from Seth, Elias was in Charles’s arms.
“It’s OK, baby. Daddy is OK,” Charles told him, stroking his still arched wings.
“What is that fucking thing?” Seth gasped as he was quickly surrounded by a small army of Koori and angels.
“My son. He’s a bit protective.”
“WHERE’S MY SON?”
All turned at the cry.
“Mom? Dad?” whispered Pickles, unbelieving. “Yer alive?”
And then Molly, hurtling past the guard, was on the floor, cradling Seth.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HEEEIM?” she shouted.
"He jest tried t' kill my friend!" Pickles shouted at her.
"It's OK, baby, Mommy is here," Molly told Seth.
"Mom!" Pickles protested.
"He took care of us! Me and your mother! Where were you?" Calvert demanded.
"Savin' da yooniverse," Pickles grumbled.
“There is something you need to see, Most Excellent Brother, Pickles,” one of the Koori told him. Pickles nodded and followed them out the door. Charles, checking that Seth was surrounded, made to follow, his son cradled in his arms.
"Sariel!"
"Yeah?" Charles looked up from where he was still trying to calm down Elias. Raziel appeared terribly upset.
"I couldn't hold him," she said, rubbing Elias on his back. "I mean, I literally couldn't hold on to him! When he wanted to fly to you?" She seemed genuinely baffled. "I’m so sorry. He tore right out of my arms."
Charles nodded. "He takes after Ganesh, I think. There's a lot in him, but it just doesn't come out very often." He inclined his head towards the door. “Wanna see what they found?”
“No, not really,” she admitted. He tilted his head again in a come along gesture, and, leaving Seth and his parents to be watched over by angels and Koori, they followed the small group down the dark hallway. There were already Koori guards posted outside one of the doorways.
“Most Bogus Seth’s suite,” said the Koori.
“Holy feck!” Pickles muttered.
Amber didn’t look up from her cell phone. “Is that Seth? He said he’d be home by now,” she grumbled.
And then she rubbed her pregnant belly.
Raziel flourished her sword. “Lady Bast was right. Everyone. Out of here,” she hissed.
“Lady Raz-“
“I said OUT, PICKLES!” But he continued to lightly hold her arm.
Raziel glared into his eyes. “This needs to be done.”
“Yeh. Mebbe. But nawt by yoo it don’t,” he told her.
She frowned and glanced at Amber, who was still texting obliviously. And then she drove the point of her sword into the floor. “SHIT!” she shouted.
“The landlord will make you pay for that,” Amber muttered.
“It’s OK, dood,” Pickles told Raziel.
“Raziel,” Charles ventured. “I think there is someone who might be able to help us with this. Someone who owes us a favor."
Raziel frowned, and then nodded. "I think I wanna see my kids," she said.
"I think I wanna see yer kids," Pickles sighed.
Charles felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. He knew immediately what it was, but had never heard such a thing so close.
They approached the area of the complex where Raziel had left her twins in the care Dethklok.
The game of Death Metal Bowling Pins having evidently come to a halt, Skwisgaar was sitting on the couch playing riffs. Abby and Liam sat on the floor, watching him intently. After he played a run, no matter how complicated he made it, the twins would then sing the passage. Perfectly. And in perfectly harmony.
"What the fuck?" asked Charles.
"Oh, they do that," Raziel told him. "They were singing along with the Angelic Choir before they were born, remember? Isn’t it funny?” she asked, sitting down next to Abby to stroke her hair. “Wotan can sing all right, of course, but I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.”
“BOO!” said Abby, who was wriggling and gesturing towards her adored cousin. Charles reluctantly let the boy go to the floor, where he favored Abby with a sloppy baby kiss, and then the boy watched, apparently as fascinated as the adults, as the twins and Skwisgaar played and otherworldly game of dueling banjos.
“Dude, we should get some of this WEIRD SHIT on the next record!” Nathan told them.
“Fine with me,” laughed Raziel. “You can’t identify them, of course. But I’m not sure how long Dick Knubbler could deal with my brats.”
“We’ll deal with your brats!” Nathan announced, hefting Liam overhead. “They’re METAL BABIES.”
“Would you guys mind watching my metal babies a while longer? I should get over and check on Wotan. And….” She looked sadly at Charles.
“We gotta go too,” Charles told her, picking up Elias, who insisted on favoring Abby with a gooey goodbye baby kiss first.
“You and your baby love god,” Raziel laughed softly as the three made their way into the hallway.
“She leads him on,” Charles said, though more quietly than how he usually said it.
"Angel Dodge Ball," Nathan was shouting. 'I call, MURDERFACE!" It was followed by the sound of Liam giggling and Murderfaces' disappointingly girlie scream.
“Charles, dood.”
Charles looked sadly at Pickles, who had followed them out. “We’ll catch up,” he told Raziel, who nodded and departed. “Yeah?”
“Dood. Yoo saw my folks?”
“Are you relieved they’re alive?”
“Wul. Yeah. But, dood.”
“Then, that’s something.” Charles was looking at Elias, not Pickles.
“He tried t’ feckin’ destroy da world dis time! And… And you saw dem!”
“Pickles, your parents aren’t … functional," he finished lamely.
“Why can’t dey see? He’s some kinda anti-Christ or somethin’.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. Actually, He-“
“Charles! It ain’t feckin’ right!”
“Pickles. I am really sorry, but I just don’t have time to solve this right now. Maybe when you get back, we can get someone for you to talk to-“
“You gonna chuck me out t’ rehab again?”
“NO! Look, Pickles, Raziel and I had shitty childhoods-“
“Yeah. Only I aint’ got a thousand year t’ feckin’ get over it.”
Charles was going to answer, but Elias had stuck some baby fingers in his mouth. He looked down on the one person it was physically impossible for him to get annoyed - well, too annoyed - at. He glanced up at Pickles. “You’re right. You're right. Look, when we get back, OK? We’ll talk about this. Ganesh is with Shiva right now, and I really have to get us over there.”
“Da blue dood…?”
Charles shook his head.
“Oh. Oh, feck.”
Charles nodded, and departed, leaving Pickles quite alone.
Ganesh was sitting on a plastic chair beneath the NO SMOKING sign, letting his cigarette go to ash.
It wasn't a hospital, but it was a lot nicer than Seth's headquarters.
“Is your dad inside?” Charles asked, sitting down beside him, Elias on his lap.
Ganesh nodded. “They have called… They have called upon my Uncle Brahma.”
“Yes?”
“Sariel. He’s not going to recover.”
Ganesh’s breathing had become rough. He hunched over, shutting his eyes tight.
Charles reached out tentatively. His hand came to rest very lightly on the back of Ganesh’s neck. Ganesh reached up and grasped the hand, as tightly as he could.
"Ganesha."
Parvati's voice was soft. Ganesh stubbed out his cigarette and followed her into Shiva's room.
Ganesh's Uncle Brahma was in one corner, not, for once, harrumphing and making a fuss. It's ghoulish, Ganesh thought. Can't he even wait? Wotan stood sadly along one wall, holding very tightly to Raziel.
"My son," Shiva said. His voice was so weak, Ganesh had to lean over the bed to hear him. He looked so tiny, like a child's toy. "It is my time. I will grant you all my powers."
“No," Ganesh told him. He had just come to the decision, but it seemed the right one. "No. You will divide your powers. Myself, and my mother.”
Parvati looked honestly surprised, but recovered herself to nod.
“All right, then it shall be done,” Shiva said. He reached out, and grasped Ganesh and Parvati’s hands for a time. Ganesh was silent, feeling the power flow through him. He glanced at his mother. She had transformed into her Kali manifestation, taking in the destructive magic. How had one person even held on to so much?
And then they had taken it all: all that was left.
“Now you will bring Brahma to me,” Shiva told them at last.
Ganesh cast a glance back at his uncle, confused at first. “Oh. We have him outside. Let me go bring him in.”
Ganesh returned with Charles, who was holding Elias. Ganesh grabbed the boy, and laid him gently down beside Shiva. "Gamp," the boy said.
And Shiva smiled and brought Elias' ear close to him, and whispered for a time in his ear.
And then Elias linked four arms around his grandfather's neck.
And Elias slowly drifted to sleep. And Shiva drifted too, to a place, very very far away.
Charles had delayed going back to Seth's headquarters. He told everyone he had to stay with Ganesh until Brahma was prepared for he and Wotan to escort Shiva to the Heavens.
Charles told himself he was also cringing about the terrible smell.
The thought of facing Pickles again was one he was careful to not let cross his mind.
In the end, Phanuel had called for the meeting. Hypnos was there too, the ethereal purple-haired and -winged Elder god standing with one delicate hand laced around Phanuel's courteous arm. The Seraph had wanted to inquire after the angels he had sent to assist in guarding the Koori's sacred place. The request was almost amusingly banal: they needed jobs, and faced rather a lot of hostility towards their kind in the world at large.
Charles promised to look into positions for them at Mordhaus, and also said he would ask of Ganesh and Wotan, when they were ready to talk about such things again.
"You think you can put Seth back to sleep?" Charles asked Hypnos.
"Should be no problem," she assured him. "I have a lot of dream magic this week. Yolanda's fiery sister Conchita, just ran off with the Innkeepers son!"
"WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT?" Raziel, who was apparently always ready to talk about such things, wailed.
"Giant ratings," grinned Hypnos. "We had a season high of viewers in the 18 to 45 demographic! But first, we need to put Seth back to his True Form," she warned.
"Dood. Is dat safe?" Pickles asked. He had been hanging back and mostly moping.
"We will be fine." Hypnos glanced at Phanuel, who beamed back at her. She pushed her glasses up her nose. Charles, who had had a terrible time focusing on the Elder god the first time he met her, noticed that she seemed somehow more distinct standing with Phanuel. Raziel raised an eyebrow at him and mouthed "mother-in-law." He grinned: a smile not without a touch of malice, and they followed Phanuel and Hypnos into the heavily guarded room where Seth and his parents awaited.
They were, rather unsurprisingly; sitting together on the couch, watch Corazon de Azul.
"What is this THING?" Molly demanded as Hypnos breezily walked past her and extended her hands towards Seth.
"Come along, my brother," she told him. "It's time." Seth quietly rose and, without any of his characteristic muttering or cursing, took one of Hypnos's hands and started to follow her.
"Where do you think you're going?" Calvert demanded.
"That's our son!" Molly wailed as several Koori held her back.
"Your son is filled with bogosity," the Koori scolded.
"He is most, most un-heinous."
"As well as a giant asswipe."
"I want my son!" Molly told them.
"You must let Hypnos do her work."
"To remove the most gnarly threat to our thrashing."
"Plus, she is a bodacious demon chick."
Hypnos grinned and her face actually colored, apparently at being termed bodacious. "Come walk with us, into my garden." She opened a door that hadn't been there before, and escorted a strangely cooperative Seth out into a lush garden. Charles recognized the place: peacocks and pyramids. He, Raziel, Pickles, Phanuel, and a few of the Koori brothers followed them out.
"All right, let's get a look at you," Hypnos told Seth. "You might want to keep your distance," she told the small group standing nearby.
She gripped Seth's hands. She closed her eyes, and so did he. Suddenly, he was not Seth any more. He was a fantastic floating thing: an enormous translucent bell, big as a circus tent, with many many many long legs, dangling, floating like wind chimes.
"He's a feckin' ... jellyfish?" Pickles asked.
"Wait! Was that HIM keeping us at the compound?" Raziel asked.
"Burning my gods damned boyfriend," Charles muttered darkly.
Hypnos raised her arms. She was standing in the middle of the creature that had been Seth, but, although the tentacles floated in a tangle everywhere around her, she appeared to be completely unaffected by the poisonous stings. The giant jellyfish thing slowly floated down as she lowered her arms, and then appeared to melt into the loamy earth of her garden.
Hypnos opened her eyes. "He's gone below to sleep," she explained.
"My parents ain't gonna like dis," Pickles sighed. "Mebbe you'd be better off puttin' dem t' sleep."
Hypnos stopped and looked at him sadly. She put one hand on his shoulder. "My dear," she told him, "they are already asleep."
"It's gonna start in a minute!" Amber muttered, not taking her eyes from her PDA.
"I'll be there, dear," said the old man. "Wouldn't miss it!"
"Thank you. Uh. Father," Charles said awkwardly.
"My residence is outside of time," the Creator assured him and Raziel. "Her ... pregnancy will not progress."
"You don't think think she'll notice?" Charles asked.
"That one?" said Raziel bitterly.
"The child is ... Those creatures are outside my Creation," the Creator told them. "I have never understood them too well. I have misunderstood many things." He looked over at Elias, in Charles' arms. Charles somewhat reluctantly handed the child over to him. The Creator gratefully received a hug. "You are getting very big, aren't you?" he asked. To Charles, he said, "And your companion, Shri Ganesha? I had heard that his father...."
"Shiva, yeah. Brahma took him up to the Heavens."
"Please, convey my regret, Sariel. Ganesha is a decent man."
Charles nodded. His Father occasionally visited Ganesh's residence to see Elias. He generally arranged not to be around during these encounters, so Ganesh was there instead to supervise. He wondered if the Creator had any inkling that Ganesh had offered to kill him for Charles.
"We should, maybe, get going?" Raziel said.
"You realize, my little one," the Creator said, handing Elias back to Charles, but looking to Raziel, "your Mother is still at large?"
"As long as she stays on her side of the fucking universe and leaves me to raise my kids," Raziel grumbled.
"Her motives have never been clear to me. However, you did take away her revenge."
Raziel looked at him, her dark eyes dangerous. "As long as she stays on her side of the fucking universe," she repeated.
Charles wandered down the corridors at Mordhaus, his wings out, red-faced, crying baby cradled in his arms.
“What’s the ISSUE HERE?” inquired Nathan Explosion.
“We’re teething,” Charles told him. He tried to nudge his glasses back up his nose, but they just fell right back down again.
“Oh, is he getting HIS FANGS?” Nathan asked excitedly.
“No, Nathan,” Charles sighed. “Just baby teeth.”
“Fangs would be cool.”
“My baby does not have fangs. Nor devil horns.”
“Yeah, but he’s got wings and extra arms.”
“Well. Yeah. I just…. I just can’t seem to find anything to calm him down. And I don’t wanna wake… You know….”
“Is Ganesh dude still…?”
“Yeah.”
Nathan extended his arms and Charles handed the blubbering Elias over to him.
“You need to RUB THE GUMS,” Nathan explained, inserting a very metal thumb into the baby’s mouth and demonstrating. Elias hitched his cries, and then closed his eyes and sucked gently on Nathan’s thumb. “SEE?”
“Fuck!” said Charles, hitching up his pajama bottoms (or rather, Ganesh’s pajama bottoms) which just fell back down again. “How did you know how to do that?”
“How did you NOT know how to do that? How did you get a LICENSE to have a baby?”
“You don’t need a license to get a kid!”
“You don’t need a license to get a kid?” Nathan asked disbelievingly. Elias had now slumped contentedly against his shoulder.
“No.”
“You must need PAPERWORK?”
“No. You just ... get a kid.”
“Huh. That’s sorta fucked up.” The two men, Nathan holding a now dozing Elias, began to walk. “Anyway, you need to get him a TEETHING THING.”
“A teething thing?”
“Something to BITE ON.”
“Hrm. Is this something that they make for babies?”
“Yeah, dude.”
Charles was taking out his Dethphone.
“I think that thing might be kinda DANGEROUS,” Nathan noted. "It's POINTY!"
“Uh, no, I’m gonna call RAZIEL,” Charles said, hitting the speed dial. “Hey, Raziel! I need a baby biting thing! A…”
“TEETHING RING.”
“Teething ring. Yeah, whatever diamond-studded made only in Denmark yuppie crap you got. What? Yeah, OF COURSE it’s a fucking emergency! It’s for your PRECIOUS NEPHEW and FUTURE SON IN LAW! Yeah, get your angel ass down here. Uh-huh. Hi toWotan. Bye.”
Nathan was grinning. “You really are A BASTARD.”
“You have no idea.” They had just arrived at Mordhaus’ media room. There was only one occupant. “Hey, Pickles, could you change it to some kinda soothing crap? Something with monkeys or some shit? My kid is being fussy. Pickles?” Charles then glanced up at the TV screen. “Oh fuck,” he said. Nathan took a seat next to Pickles, Elias on his lap, and they watched.
“So, Molly and Calvert, you’re telling us you think your son, Seth, was misunderstood?” asked the very blond Exlax News anchor.
“Yes, to the end of his days,” Molly wailed, while Calvert stood looking stalwart.
"Oh, Christ," said Charles.
"What happened to Seth?" the anchor blurbled.
"He was just starting to rebuild his life. It was the ANGELS!" Molly sobbed, breaking down.
"Yes," said Calvert, patting Molly's shoulder. "That's what happened. THE ANGELS."
"The angels WHAT?" Charles shouted. "What did we fucking do? Ask them you blond bubblehead!"
"Angels: threat or menace? We'll ask our Exlax News panel of experts!"
"Wull, Shannon," said the balding man, "I think that angels are deviants working for Satan...."
"Phanuel killed Satan! Are they stupid?"
"Charles, you're gonna wake your kid," Nathan scolded. Charles frowned and put a hand on Elias' head. He grabbed a likely looking remote control and managed to get the sound off. He looked over at Pickles.
The drummer was staring. Just staring.
“Did you want to ride?”
Wotan looked up from where he sat in his stables.
“I would like to ride,” he told Raziel, “with my best friend. An idiotic blue bastard.”
“That fucking bull,” said Raziel, sitting down next to him.
“That fucking bull,” said Wotan, slinging an arm around her. “Never could hunt worth a damn with him crashing around on that thing.”
“Did he give Nandi to Ganesha?”
“Nandi has taken to Sariel! Gods help him!”
“You mean Sariel!? Or Nandi?”
“Haha! Both!”
"I've heard there's good hunting. Up in the Heavens."
"In Brahma's fucking garden? I hope Shiva makes a mess of it. Maybe I'll send him some tigers."
"They'd trample the azaleas!"
"A right mess. A right mess." He looked up to Sleipnir, who whinnied. "Would you be up for a ride today M'Lady?"
"Sure," she said, standing.
"You're not gonna go spend three hours changing into something fancy?"
"Naw. I thought maybe we could just get on your mount and go."
"That's just what I planned to do. Let's go then."
“Didn't shave?
"No."
“I hate fucking beards. I did tell you that?”
“You have. Repeatedly.”
"Just hanging out?" Charles sat down on the couch where Ganesh was hanging out, and had in fact been hanging out for the past three days.
Charles located himself in the middle of Ganesh's lap, bumping away Ganesh's Financial Times.
"You are a stray cat," Ganesh mused, flicking hair out of Charles' eyes.
"What good could that paper be, anyway? It's pink."
"Sariel-"
"Charles."
Ganesh blinked.
"I think it's the name I wanna go by now."
"It's a human name."
"My dad likes it. And I never fucking liked Sariel."
"All right. Charles. But you know, Lady Raziel...."
"Will keep calling me fucking Sariel until the world stops spinning. Yeah."
Ganesh smiled. “I have been thinking.”
“Yeah?”
“With my father’s … passing, I think it meet to now share a portion of my duties with the Eastern Kingdom with my mother.”
“A retirement?”
“Semi-retirement.”
“That’s good. You always hated that fucking job.”
“I did?”
“You came home every night bitching about horrid people!”
“I suppose so. At any rate, I thought to devote some time to an apprenticeship, with Elegba.”
“Just keep it a safe gods damn distance from the house?”
“Well, I suppose that’s a good point,” Ganesh allowed. “And to raising our son.”
“Cool.”
“You don’t have any objections? Or second thoughts?”
“Fuck no. You gonna greet me when I come home with slippers and a martini?”
“Well…”
“And a blow job?”
“You are impossible!”
“I am. I really am.” Charles looked up. "Will you come some place with me?" he asked.
"Where, exactly?"
The two men picked their way down the rocky shore.
"He said it was down this way," Charles said.
"You haven't been, prior to this?" Ganesh asked.
"No. Oh there it is."
It was under a lovely tree, just as Jacque had promised. There was only a very small grave marker.
Charles sat down nearby, on the grass, next to the place where his mother's body lay.
And then quite lost himself for a time. He had no idea who he was or where he was. He hugged his knees. There just wasn't anything there.
He sat up a little later. He couldn't have told you how long. His wings were wrapped around him. He had gone to True Form, without realizing it.
"Ruined another fucking jacket," he whispered.
"We will buy you another," Ganesh said quietly. "It will give Lady Raziel something to occupy herself." The god was sitting comfortably beside him, hair hanging in his face, as it always was. Charles reached over and pushed a strand out of Ganesh's eyes. There was still a burn mark on his cheek, though it had much faded, thanks to Charles obsessively applying Ganesh's smelly goo to it.
"Are you talkin' with my Tzaphy?" They both looked up to see Jacque approaching, hefting an apparently delighted Elias.
"Uh, I guess so," said Charles.
"I come down here, some days a week, and we chat," Jacque told them. "Sen Michel is fine, dear. Big as a house," he said, addressing the grave site.
"Maaaa!" laughed Elias.
"That's right, we're talking to your Maman. Well, of course he'll be handsome, Tzaphy! He's the spit and image of me!"
"My Auntie claims he is actually the spit and image of my Uncle Brahma," Ganesh told him, squinting into the sun.
"You lost your Papa, boy?" Jacque asked. Ganesh nodded sadly. "They tell me it was a man's death, riding a bull, unleashing some fucking tigers!"
"He exited ... In a brave manner."
"Stuff of legend, your Papa," he said, handing off Elias to the still True Formed Charles, who wrapped his arms and wings about the boy.
Ganesh nodded as Jacque fished a bottle of run and some glasses out of his jacket.
"Now, your Uncle Brahma on the other hand ... prize fucking asshole," Jacque attested, handing off a glass to Ganesh.
To Charles's surprise, Ganesh laughed. And laughed rather loudly.
"He is. He really is," he said, wiping a tear and taking a sip. "He has taken to Sariel though."
"How could you not like my Charles, eh?" Jacque asked, placing another glass in Charles' shaking hand. "I poured that one for Sen Michel!" he boomed as Charles took a sip.
"No rum," Charles told curious Elias. "Not until you're at least 847 years old."
"This is a lovely spot, Jacque," Ganesh told him rising and stretching and holding out his glass.
Jacque filled the glass, and the tipped the bottle out, pouring a shot on Tzaphkiel's grave.
"I sometimes bring some grub and have a picnic. What do you think, Sen Michel?"
"Nic!" the baby clapped.
"Don't think I'm hungry right now, Papa," Charles, holding the baby, told him.
"You? Not hungry?" Ganesh asked gently.
"You have to feed the kid! He's a growing boy!" Although Jacque had given no signal, some servants had arrived with a large picnic basket and a blanket, which Jacque and Ganesh spread out on the soft, grassy ground next to the grave.
"I called that asshole, Uncle Brahma, and he sent along something," Jacque announced, bringing forth a fragrant, disk shaped object.
"BIE!" squealed Elias, who already knew a good thing when he saw it. Jacque grabbed him and set him next to it.
"Is that from Auntie?" asked Charles, his eyes widening.
"I thought you weren't hungry," Ganesh smiled. He gestured to Charles, who removed his badly torn jacket and shirt
"Just one slice!"
"You'll need to eat your dinner first," Ganesh said, carefully folding the damaged clothes and setting them aside.
"Papa! Just one slice," Charles appealed.
"Aw, I think that'll be OK just this once. What do you think, Tzaphy? Yeah. She thinks it's fine!"
"Does she always agree with you, Jacque?" Ganesh asked, uncorking a wine bottle.
"She's a good conversationalist!" Jacque declared, winking and getting his cup filled.
Ganesh filled up Charles’ cup. Charles looked at it for a moment, and then leaned over, and poured it over his mother’s grave. “But, I’m eating all the pie,” he told her.
“BIE!” Elias repeated.
“You gotta walk for it young man. C’mon, walk!” Jacque declared, setting the boy down a few small steps away from him and holding up a slice. “Walk for Papa!” Young Elias’ face took on an expression of firm determination. He took a few stumbling baby steps, collapsing into Jacque’s lap.
Jacque held the pie plate up out of the boy’s reach. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m keeping all to myself.” Elias squealed at the terrible betrayal, clambering into Jacque’s lap, and then pushing his grandfather down and climbing up his body to the tantalizing slice as they both laughed.
Ganesh smiled over to Charles, who was using the melee as cover to grab his second slice. “Charles! Do not bogart my Auntie’s pie!” Ganesh scolded, grabbing at the plate.
“MOOOOOM!” Charles shouted as they wrestled over the pie.
They were shouting. Screaming. Roaring.
And the band hadn’t even taken the stage yet.
From backstage, Pickles looked over the roiling crowd. He was in makeup, and ready to go. He wanted to go bother Charles in the control room, a sort of tradition, but reminded himself their manager wasn’t there. It was fine, of course. Charles wouldn’t have let anything go forward if it weren’t all fine. After all these years, this stuff really ran itself. And he needed the time off, even Nathan, Mr. Comp Time, agreed on that one. Ganesh didn’t even seem like the same person, lately - he seemed hollowed out somehow.
Things should be fine back here.
But they weren’t. And Pickles wasn’t precisely sure why. Knowing he was there, their guardian angel, in the control room, worried about everything. At the last minute, Pickles had joked they needed to train a few of the Gears to worry. They had all stared at him, or stared down at their knives and Gameboys. And Charles had looked concerned and asked if he should cancel his vacation and attend the concert anyway. But it wasn’t anything, really. It wasn’t anything Pickles could put his finger on. Hiring a worrier, how lame! Ganesh had lost his dad. They needed to deal.
Pickles looked back from the crowd. He felt his chest. He felt his throat. What was that shit he’d just taken? He couldn’t quite remember. The same as always. His heart thumped and rattled in his chest. He sat down. He felt faint. Was he going to pass out?
His heart was now rattling, bumping his rib cage. He couldn't breathe any more. His throat had closed.
His palms were sweaty.
His heart. His pounding heart.
He was going to die. Right here. Sitting here on the edge of the stage. He was going to die.
"Pickle? Ams you OK?"
He looked up to the sound of Toki!s soft voice.
"Gonna die, Tok," he choked.
"No," Toki assured him, sitting down beside him. "Toki ams here. You ams fines."
And Toki slung an arm over his friend's shoulders. And they sat like that for a time.