sing, choirs of angels, sing in exultation!

[expunger]

Characters: Raphael, Lucifer, and Gabriel.
When: Christmas morning
Where: the Chateau
Rating: PG-13 or R for angels and character death. :(
Summary: Legitimately the worst Christmas ever.

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Gabriel lingered, even though it had been ages since he'd spent any length of time at the chateau, preferring to keep to himself until called out. There were things more important than raw aches that accompanied jealousy- he'd always been jealous of whoever got Lucifer's attentions, but never had it been so convoluted that he found himself wondering whose attentions he truly wanted.

But Raphael was more important than his own pettiness- any sibling more important than that, he felt the need to add to himself, as if in reassurance that he did still truly love his family and no position or stance would ever change that. But most importantly, Raphael had earned this from him. She was changing, growing, and Tom Riddle had struck her down before the truth of it could be fully realized- that alone made him wish to rip the boy's heart out.

So close. If the Animus returned her with no memories of her growth here, he'd make what Lucifer did at the Elysian Fields look like Sunday brunch. It wasn't fairHe was at the lake, watching the ripples

[expunger]

They may have shared the desire to disembowel Tom Riddle and feed it to him, for their very different reasons, but maybe Gabriel shouldn't have. Raphael didn't know it, not really, but even now, she owed so much of that growth to him. What she did to Castiel still stood out as the worst single thing she ever did while in Adstringéndum, the one decision she's ever made that she actually had doubts about later.

Without the imminence of death, she might never have made the final push to make it right.

She didn't react to Gabriel's appearance as instantly as usual; it took her a few seconds to look up and notice him there, only to look dismayed and incredibly displeased. He had managed to land right next to her without her noticing. The sound of his wings wasn't enough and the angelic senses she was supposed to have were failing her. Just more ways her body was giving out on her

[painhumbles]

"Not really- and the kid's Jewish, so she'll probably deal with it better," the sarcastic retort came without its normal vigor, but Gabriel maintained appearances at all cost to avoid allowing his mental house of cards to collapse. "And no one wants to die on Christmas. Ruins the whole day for everyone. C'mon." He leans down and attempts to pull her off the ground, unnerved by how light she seems- light and heavy at the same time. A human body is nothing to an angel at full power, but somehow the weight of an angel about to die is almost unbearable. He'd be better off to try and lift a dying star.

"You can fight through this. That's what we do, right?" Never mind that she'd been fighting with this for almost a month now. He was delaying an inevitability that would be better to come swiftly.

[expunger]

Raphael didn't have to ask or take a second to wonder who "the kid" was. It struck her as strange that any mere human had managed to penetrate into her life to the point that, on her deathbed, her own brothers had her first or second in their thoughts. Strange, that she mattered at all.

Did she? Raphael couldn't tell. She didn't have the energy to wonder.

Any answer to Gabriel's comments would have to wait, as she choked on a cough and grabbed hard at his shoulder for support when he pulled her. It took a second to get her feet under her- only for her knees to buckle slightly and for her to almost fall with an annoyed grunt. She wasn't surprised, though. Her body was giving out. She fisted his jacket tightly and closed her eyes for a second, relying on the false privacy of darkness to give her the mental strength to reply through the indignity of the situation. "Fighting is tiring."