11: Nothing Matters Now: Insignificantly Enough, We Both Have Significant Others: Angelcrackfic.
By thelessonoftime, for madame_enjolras. Essentially? This is crack-addled crackosity. It says "Hi, canon! Bye, canon!" It clocks in at 3,800 and is just a mess. There's Turkey. There's Phleggy/Meph/Gabs. There's Syrup. There's G2ers up the wazoo. There's crack to angst in 200 words. Pure. Insanity. Just one more friendly service of the twinmind.
Nothing Matters Now: Insignificantly Enough, We Both Have Significant Others
In six thousand years of existence, there was only one person who had never let him down, only one that he had always trusted with everything he had. Gabriel had been the one he had clung to after the Fall, when the entire universe was breaking down around them, the one he was there for, whenever he was needed, who had never abandoned him for any reason, and, he was slowly beginning to realize, the one he had fallen in love with.
He couldn't have told you how it happened, all he knew was that it had. He had somehow, beyond all logic and reason, begun to love his closest friend in the only way he absolutely could not. It wasn't as though these strange emotions were returned, or could ever be returned. It was better to keep things this way, the way they had always been.
On the day when Mephistopheles had been ordered to leave Gabriel (not the human, but Gabriel, and it hurt the angel, though he told no one), Raphael held him close and told him everything would be all right. It wasn't hard (except in the worst porn ever and/or Maja's filthy mind) then, but later, later, when Phlegethon had died yet again and Lucifer had returned him but with something horribly, desperately wrong with his soul (he couldn't remember Gabriel, but he remembered Mephistopheles, and the pain in Gabriel's eyes was obvious when Raphael found him at last), Raphael could contain himself no longer.
He pulled him close, whispering words of comfort, and another sudden stab (oh, that he might stab him once more!) of pain shook him. He could never be enough -- there was no way that anyone, no matter who it was, could truly be enough for Gabriel -- but he could try to be. When Gabriel's tears halted this time, he did not simply release him. "I love you."
Raphael's words did not come as much of a surprise to Gabriel, for he had heard and returned them in kind many times before, as he did this time. "I love you too."
"No, I -- I love you. I know it doesn't mean much, or anything really, because it can't, but I do. I love you."
Gabriel couldn't do much more than stare, for a long moment. "You ... love me?"
Raphael hung his head, and when he replied, his voice was quiet. "I do."
"I -- I don't -- Michael?"
"I know. He's -- I love him. That's why this can't help at all. I can't love you."
There was a long moment of silence. "I know. I --" he cut himself off.
"...You?"
"Feel the same way," came the weak response.
"We can't."
"I know. I've known."
"Did you know then?" Raphael knew he didn't need to specify when, because Gabriel would know, would remember the day that sealed their fate, forever seperate, never again coming (what? You really think Gabriel didn't come in 2090?) together (like in all really bad porn!).
"I did."
"Then why -- oh, Gabriel." He pulled the other angel closer to him, because this made things even harder (well, it certainly made something hard, at least). It meant so many things, and nothing at all, because it was all just --
Their faces were dangerously close now, and neither could say who moved first, who intiated it, unless it was both of them, but their lips met as they held on to each other, and, for a moment, everything felt like it would be all right again, like it would make sense, like things would never fall apart again, like happiness would last forever, and nothing could change it, because nothing else really mattered. All too quickly, that moment was over and they were pulling away, wide-eyed. Neither spoke for a while, fearing to break the perfection of that brief moment with the cold reality of the truth.
"I'm sorry," they both began.
After a brief pause, they tried again. "I shouldn't have --"
This time, there was an almost laugh, a faint smile, before they simply clung to one another. They spent a long moment in each other's arms (you (and they) wish), breathing in the comfort that only the person who knew you even better than you knew yourself could provide and ignoring the awkward confession of their hearts' betrayal before Gabriel broke the silence. "What do we do now?"
Raphael shrugged. "We go on. Try to forget it happened, don't mention it again. If we don't, I don't know if I can --" He raised his head to look Gabriel in the eye. "I can't."
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. This isn't your fault."
He looked for a moment as if he would argue, but instead he brushed a brief, thoroughly chaste kiss across Gabriel's lips. "I love you," he said again, but he prevented himself from infusing it with all the greater meaning he could have, with the nearly overwhelming desire to hold on to him and never let him go.
"I love you too."
That was all that needed to be said, and it returned them to a state of what could be termed normalacy. They went onwards, not quite pretending, but ignoring what had happened that day.
***
A short time after that, Phlegethon Hades remembered all he had forgotten. A tearful reunion with Gabriel followed, combined with more repetitions of the words "I love you" than should be humanly -- or angelicly -- possible. After all of that was taken care of, however, Gabriel had to pull away. It was time to come (oh, he'll do it eventually, Maja) clean.
"Angel?"
Gabriel looked away.
"Angel. What's wrong?"
He bit his lip. "It's nothing." (And it really matters!)
"It's something. Tell me?"
His brilliant blue eyes were dull as he spoke. "I kissed Raphael." That wasn't it, not all of it, but he could not -- could not -- repeat the rest of what had happened, what had come true, what had -- everything.
Phlegethon stared for a moment. "Jesus fucking Christ, angel. An explanation, during which you will tell me why it was completely unintentional and a horrible mistake, had better be forthcoming."
"It was a mistake because I love you and I should never have done something like that to you, and because he loves Michael, and how could I do that to either of them?" He managed to ignore the pain, to shove it aside, because that much he could try not to reveal, not to hurt Phlegethon with.
"And the unintentional bit. Waiting on that one."
"I won't lie to you, Phlegethon." Quietly. Quietly, ever so annoyingly.
"So you fucking meant it, angel? You fucking meant to do that?"
"Not -- I wasn't thinking."
"Oh, that is pretty fucking obvious. Jesus Christ."
"I'm sorry."
"You're --" Phlegethon laughed. "You're sorry? Tell me, what is that supposed to do, angel? You're sorry."
"I can't change things, but I would, if I could. I'm sorry. I hurt you, and I'm sorry."
"Why the fuck did you do it, then?"
He would never be able to say why he said it. Why he admitted to it. He had never wanted to (to love Raphael, to hurt Phlegethon this way). "I love him."
"You -- Jesus fucking Christ, angel. You love him?"
"I -- yes." Gabriel's shoulders slumped in defeat.
Phlegethon measured out his words carefully. "And does he love you?"
Gabriel nodded weakly.
"He will die. I will find the way to kill an angel and he. Will. Die."
"No, Phlegethon, please. Do whatever you want to me, but don't hurt him. Please."
"He loves you, angel, he will die."
"Don't hurt him. Please. Don't -- it won't happen again. I promise."
"Jesus fuck, angel. I love you."
"I know. I love you too. I'm sorry."
"Stop. Fucking. Apologizing," he growled and pulled the angel into a fierce kiss.
***
Three years later, it all went wrong. By this time, Hell had settled back down, and Mephistopheles had been permitted to return to both of his lovers and so, the three were reunited (and remained unseen by any other for several days). All was well, all was well, or so it seemed. Raphael and Michael had taken custody of Michael's infant daughter Phoebe (a lengthy (OH, GOD, MAJA, I CAN'T MAKE THIS JOKE. IT'S JUST TOO WRONG.) story in and of herself), and it was all all right.
Until, of course, two toddlers appeared, fluffy white wings trailing behind them. Raphael and Gabriel were the first to meet them, that fateful day in the mansion. Twin squeals of "Pater! Father!" and "Pere! Daddy!" rang out as they attached themselves to the older angels. Exchanging a glance, Raphael and Gabriel squatted to be on the same level as the children.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken," Raphael began.
The little boy tilted his head (mannerisms, like everything else, really are genetic) at the two of them, clutching Raphael's shirt. "Mithtaken?"
"We aren't your fathers," Gabriel said.
The girl looked like she would cry. Her blue eyes (Gabriel's eyes) welled with tears. "Pere?" She turned her head from side to side, looking frantically between the two of them. "Daddy..." The boy reached out a hand to her, still not letting go of Raphael's shirt.
"Don't cry!" He levelled as much of a glare as a (very adorable) three year old could at their fathers. "Pater. Father. You're making Michael cry. Stop it."
"I --" Raphael cut himself off with a choke. "Michael?"
Still near tears, Michael looked over at him. "Yes, Daddy?"
He shook his head (oh now, that's just wrong), almost amused. "Nothing, nothing." He turned back to the boy. "What's your name, little one?"
"Mephithophewes," he said, looking at Raphael as though he was the stupidest creature to ever have graced the face of the planet (in fact, the angel was only the third stupidest, Raziel being the stupidest, and the Metatron coming (exactly) in a close second).
Raphael couldn't help it. He choked on a bit of laughter. (Gabriel, of course, simply ellipsed like that tall chick's father (it comes (ha) of sharing a typist.)) "Tell me there isn't another of you running around named Phlegethon," he said, trying to keep from cracking up (some might say he was already cracked (or, at least, crack-addled), but we'll be nice).
"Nope! Just us!" Michael beamed.
Mephistopheles had turned his attention from Raphael and his stupidity to the rest of the room. Suddenly, he let out another ear-piercing squeal and bounded over to the newest arrival to the room. "Unceh Mephithotophewes!"
Those "in the know" and who made such jokes might have commented on the fact that Pac-Man would have quite a lot of clean-up duty to attend to as the demon stared at the young angel who had attached himself to him. Raphael and Gabriel stood, and Gabriel crossed the room to Mephistopheles and Mephistopheles, Michael still attached to him and looking as if she would never let go (obligatory Titanic jokes may be inserted here, along with jokes about inserting things, at your own discretion).
Finally, the older Mephistopheles managed to speak. "Gabriel? Do you know what this is all about?"
"I --" Gabriel really didn't know where to begin.
With the faintest hint of a smile, Raphael answered for him. "Mephistopheles, meet Gabriel's son, Mephistopheles, and his daughter, Michael."
Mephistopheles's ellipses came back into full view as he stared at Raphael. "This is some kind of a joke."
"No joke, as far as I can tell."
Michael tugged at Gabriel's sleeve. "Want to go to Daddy."
He had clearly adapted to the new situation quickly, as Raphael simply automatically held out his arms for the little girl to wriggle into (if you -- on second thought, we'll just let it be noted that fathers are not for sexing). Mephistopheles continued tripping the excessive dots fantastic (thank you, Maja), and, in fact, may have made it so far as to be absolutely drowning in full stops. Gabriel facepalmed.
"I think an explanation should be provided. Quickly."
"There really isn't one. They appeared from out of nowhere."
He opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it and continued with his ellipsing. "Does Phlegethon know?"
Gabriel shook his head. "We only just found out about them."
"I'll leave you two to deal with that." Raphael reached out an arm to take Mephistopheles from Mephistopheles. The angel came (it's the first thing he'll do, you see!) to him easily and, burdened down by the two fluffy-winged children, Raphael exited the room a bare (there was no nudity, that's disgusting) second before Phlegethon arrived.
"Jesus Christ, angel, tell me he didn't really breed."
Gabriel turned a rather brilliant shade of red. "Nothing happened with him that would lead to reproduction."
"So you mean that wasn't really sex we walked in on that one time? Thank Someone."
"Phlegethon." The blushing intensified even further at the thought of that. "I thought we agreed to never mention that again."
"But it didn't happen!"
"It -- that isn't the point. The point is --"
"Do I want to hear this, angel?"
"I would assume," he began cautiously, "that you would desire to be informed of the fact that Raphael and I apparently have children named Michael and Mephistopheles."
"Not Phlegethon? I'm hurt, truly. As he will be. Messily, bloodily, painfully, and so on and so forth -- care to help, demon?"
"Phlegethon, please. This isn't -- he didn't -- we --"
"You are my angel --" Mephistopheles cleared his throat. "-- Our angel, and this is not in the contract."
"There's a contract?"
"There are many contracts. One of them is the one which gives that horrifically sexy demon over there the right to my soul. Another says that if you reproduce with your best friend, he dies. Somehow. The details are, as yet, a bit fuzzy."
"We've been over this. Don't hurt him, he's done nothing wrong."
"So how are you explaining the fuzzballs?"
"I'm really not."
"You're not -- Jesus Christ, angel. Demon? I think this calls for chains."
This is, of course, the part of the fic where Angie pulls the authorial privlege card and halts this scene, allowing you, the reader, to assume that the threesome went off to have really excellent (and vaguely kinky, apparently, thank you, Phlegethon) sex.
***
A few years passed, and the strange family had grown. Caitlin and Xathanael fit into the insanity of a family which involved various strange combinations of angels, demons, humans, best friends and boyfriends, and the description of it from some ends can take over fifty words each, and it just gets far too confusing, so we'll leave it alone. (It was and is very complicated and is easily best summarized as "a family situation that only Maja and Angie and their (very) special (with a capital self, to tell the truth) brand of Caesar/Kafka could dream up".)
When you put ten people in a room, four of whom are active fighters on opposite sides of the greatest war ever to be fought, there is bound to be at least a smidgen of chaos. In the case of this particular group of people, "smidgen" was very likely an understatement (in fact, it definitely was, as the only thing that was more of an understatement was the phrase "Raziel is slightly unused to the way things work on earth."). The repeated admonishments for someone to for Someone's sake keep Caitlin's hair out of the maple syrup and Mephistopheles to stop biting Xathanael, please which, even now, led to funny looks from the demon before the he realized that it was the other one who was being scolded, were enough to give anyone a headache, as Xathanael was insisting they had.
Raphael smiled at him, that strange smile of his. "You don't have a headache, Xathanael."
"I do so," he insisted, a rather petulant expression on his face.
"You don't. What has your father told you about lying?"
"That it is a respectable occupation and should be practiced as much as possible until even demons believe I'm telling the truth when I'm actually lying."
Phlegethon smiled brightly at that and Raphael facepalmed. "Phlegethon."
"Yes?"
"You know, I really don't see why Gabriel puts up with you, sometimes."
He grinned. "It's because I'm a sex machine."
Mephistopheles, currently occuppied in a discussion with Caitlin on the importance of putting her shoes on her feet instead of his head, managed a snort of laughter. Raphael simply sighed.
"Rule number one, Phlegethon."
"I didn't say it was necessarily with him!"
"That's worse."
"You're no fun, Raphael."
"I don't exist for your fun."
"Thank Someone. The very thought is disgusting."
"What's disgusting?" asked a rather exhausted looking Gabriel from the doorway.
"Your mom was disgusting!" came (no, I can't make this joke either, because it'll involve twinsex, since this is Peri's line of cameo) a chirrup from nearby.
"In bed last night," another voice added in.
"With Turkey?" asked a third.
"And Erin and Michael Jackson and Robin Williams!" two more voices shouted over each other before collapsing into giggles and declarations of winnage.
"Typist," said Phlegethon, Gabriel, Mephistopheles and Raphael in unison, glaring at four of the five girls who had most definitely not been in the kitchen a moment before.
"Oh, don't worry! You two," Maja pointed at Phlegethon and Mephistopheles, "get to watch!"
"With Michael!"
"And Lucifer!"
"And God!"
"While the pope jerks off!"
"Maja," the other four said. (Well, actually, that's not true. Peri declared her insane amounts of love for Maja (to absolutely no one's (and we don't mean Dili's) surprise) and Angie was laughing too hard (twinsex kills, people) for whatever she said, if she said anything, to be discernible to any human.)
When she'd gotten herself (not Peri, note the non-existence of the space) under control again, Angie looked up at the other four. "We really should get going, guys. They have a zoo to go to."
"Not the zoo." Phlegethon's eyes were wide with fear.
"Yes, Dad. The zoo." Angie defied gravity (we'll wait for Dani and company to finish the musical interlude) and kissed his cheek, earning her glares from at least half of the gathered company, which she waved off with a "typist!"
"Bye, now!" called the assmbled typists as they exited, giggling amongst themselves. Nora, however, lagged behind.
"Have good sex, you four!"
"I am not a child-molestor, typist."
"No, but your boyfriend is!"
"I am not."
"Love to stay and chat, Gabs, but your wife'll kill me if I hang out any longer! Bye-bye!"
The typists disappeared back to the place from whence they had come (...that could lead to twincest if you let this joke be made, and that's just wrong), leaving the angel unable to do nothing more than mutter denial of the fact that he has a wife and to begin studiously avoiding making eye-contact with Raphael for the duration of the day, of which we will say no more than that the lemurs were safely recaptured and we are certain that the elderly woman who suddenly found herself surrounded by lions and tigers and bears (and, according to some reports, a pig with wings) will be just fine after she recovers from her triple-heart attack.
***
Things progressed as well as one could expect them to in this sort of family for years and years. In this case, the length time skipped over by that sentence was approximately twelve years.
It was a dark and stormy night -- no, actually, it was, and through no fault of my own. A little known fact is that the angel assigned to providing maddeningly inappropriate weather for the characters involved (in this case, it really should have been a beautiful day with blue horizons) is also assigned to figuring out just how to juggle the balance of angels in heaven when one Falls and he was, of course, occupied at the time our story picks up.
Mephistopheles walked back to the mansion from the forest he had found his sister in. His wings were out, as usually happened when he was stressed, and if a more stressful situation had been discovered, he hadn't heard of it. He was soaked by the time he entered. Thankfully, most of the family was gathered in the front room already. Gabriel looked up at him with concern.
"Mephistopheles? What's wrong?"
"She Fell," he managed in a quiet, trembling voice.
"She --" Gabriel cut himself off. Mephistopheles would never even consider lying to him, especially not about something like this.
She'd Fallen. Michael. Fallen.
As he tried to process this, Raphael walked in the door. Mephistopheles immediately turned and clung to him, choking out a "Dad".
Gabriel met Raphael's eyes over Mephistopheles's shoulder. At the inquiring head-tilt, he looked away and when he spoke, it was barely loud enough for Raphael to hear him. "Michael Fell."
Raphael paled noticeably. Something seemed die in his eyes and he shrank a bit. He couldn't even find the words to deny that it had happened, to deny that -- to deny that he was breathing a sigh of relief at the realization of who they actually meant. He covered for it carefully, hating himself for it. "It's all right, Mephistopheles. She's still Michael, just --"
"Fallen. A demon."
A polite cough could be heard from across the room. Had the atmosphere of the room not been so oppresive, there might have been a faint undercurrent of amusion, but as it was, none could be summoned.
Mephistopheles turned his head, still clinging to Raphael. "I didn't mean --"
"I will look after her. She will be all right."
A little of the weight pressing down upon the soaking wet angel was lifted and he managed a faint, thankful smile.
Later, Raphael and Gabriel were finally alone. They held on tightly to each other, to everything that they were and the knowledge that, so long as nothing really mattered, everything would be genetic all right.
"What are we going to do?"
"The same thing we have. Love her, be there if she needs us. Our obligation remains unchanged."
He nodded and they remained in silence for a while longer.
"Raphael?"
"Yes?"
"Do you ever wonder what might have been?" There was no need to clarify. There never was.
"I don't let myself. If I did, I'd want it. It's a lovely thought, what we might have been. I'd want it too much if I thought of it. We have each other, as it is. That's all we need."
"It is. -- I love you."
"I love you too."
No extra meaning, no more than that. Two friends who'd chosen their paths, and nothing, not their emotions, not anything, would be allowed to interefere.
They loved too much to hurt.
Nothing Matters Now: Insignificantly Enough, We Both Have Significant Others
In six thousand years of existence, there was only one person who had never let him down, only one that he had always trusted with everything he had. Gabriel had been the one he had clung to after the Fall, when the entire universe was breaking down around them, the one he was there for, whenever he was needed, who had never abandoned him for any reason, and, he was slowly beginning to realize, the one he had fallen in love with.
He couldn't have told you how it happened, all he knew was that it had. He had somehow, beyond all logic and reason, begun to love his closest friend in the only way he absolutely could not. It wasn't as though these strange emotions were returned, or could ever be returned. It was better to keep things this way, the way they had always been.
On the day when Mephistopheles had been ordered to leave Gabriel (not the human, but Gabriel, and it hurt the angel, though he told no one), Raphael held him close and told him everything would be all right. It wasn't hard (except in the worst porn ever and/or Maja's filthy mind) then, but later, later, when Phlegethon had died yet again and Lucifer had returned him but with something horribly, desperately wrong with his soul (he couldn't remember Gabriel, but he remembered Mephistopheles, and the pain in Gabriel's eyes was obvious when Raphael found him at last), Raphael could contain himself no longer.
He pulled him close, whispering words of comfort, and another sudden stab (oh, that he might stab him once more!) of pain shook him. He could never be enough -- there was no way that anyone, no matter who it was, could truly be enough for Gabriel -- but he could try to be. When Gabriel's tears halted this time, he did not simply release him. "I love you."
Raphael's words did not come as much of a surprise to Gabriel, for he had heard and returned them in kind many times before, as he did this time. "I love you too."
"No, I -- I love you. I know it doesn't mean much, or anything really, because it can't, but I do. I love you."
Gabriel couldn't do much more than stare, for a long moment. "You ... love me?"
Raphael hung his head, and when he replied, his voice was quiet. "I do."
"I -- I don't -- Michael?"
"I know. He's -- I love him. That's why this can't help at all. I can't love you."
There was a long moment of silence. "I know. I --" he cut himself off.
"...You?"
"Feel the same way," came the weak response.
"We can't."
"I know. I've known."
"Did you know then?" Raphael knew he didn't need to specify when, because Gabriel would know, would remember the day that sealed their fate, forever seperate, never again coming (what? You really think Gabriel didn't come in 2090?) together (like in all really bad porn!).
"I did."
"Then why -- oh, Gabriel." He pulled the other angel closer to him, because this made things even harder (well, it certainly made something hard, at least). It meant so many things, and nothing at all, because it was all just --
Their faces were dangerously close now, and neither could say who moved first, who intiated it, unless it was both of them, but their lips met as they held on to each other, and, for a moment, everything felt like it would be all right again, like it would make sense, like things would never fall apart again, like happiness would last forever, and nothing could change it, because nothing else really mattered. All too quickly, that moment was over and they were pulling away, wide-eyed. Neither spoke for a while, fearing to break the perfection of that brief moment with the cold reality of the truth.
"I'm sorry," they both began.
After a brief pause, they tried again. "I shouldn't have --"
This time, there was an almost laugh, a faint smile, before they simply clung to one another. They spent a long moment in each other's arms (you (and they) wish), breathing in the comfort that only the person who knew you even better than you knew yourself could provide and ignoring the awkward confession of their hearts' betrayal before Gabriel broke the silence. "What do we do now?"
Raphael shrugged. "We go on. Try to forget it happened, don't mention it again. If we don't, I don't know if I can --" He raised his head to look Gabriel in the eye. "I can't."
"I know."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. This isn't your fault."
He looked for a moment as if he would argue, but instead he brushed a brief, thoroughly chaste kiss across Gabriel's lips. "I love you," he said again, but he prevented himself from infusing it with all the greater meaning he could have, with the nearly overwhelming desire to hold on to him and never let him go.
"I love you too."
That was all that needed to be said, and it returned them to a state of what could be termed normalacy. They went onwards, not quite pretending, but ignoring what had happened that day.
***
A short time after that, Phlegethon Hades remembered all he had forgotten. A tearful reunion with Gabriel followed, combined with more repetitions of the words "I love you" than should be humanly -- or angelicly -- possible. After all of that was taken care of, however, Gabriel had to pull away. It was time to come (oh, he'll do it eventually, Maja) clean.
"Angel?"
Gabriel looked away.
"Angel. What's wrong?"
He bit his lip. "It's nothing." (And it really matters!)
"It's something. Tell me?"
His brilliant blue eyes were dull as he spoke. "I kissed Raphael." That wasn't it, not all of it, but he could not -- could not -- repeat the rest of what had happened, what had come true, what had -- everything.
Phlegethon stared for a moment. "Jesus fucking Christ, angel. An explanation, during which you will tell me why it was completely unintentional and a horrible mistake, had better be forthcoming."
"It was a mistake because I love you and I should never have done something like that to you, and because he loves Michael, and how could I do that to either of them?" He managed to ignore the pain, to shove it aside, because that much he could try not to reveal, not to hurt Phlegethon with.
"And the unintentional bit. Waiting on that one."
"I won't lie to you, Phlegethon." Quietly. Quietly, ever so annoyingly.
"So you fucking meant it, angel? You fucking meant to do that?"
"Not -- I wasn't thinking."
"Oh, that is pretty fucking obvious. Jesus Christ."
"I'm sorry."
"You're --" Phlegethon laughed. "You're sorry? Tell me, what is that supposed to do, angel? You're sorry."
"I can't change things, but I would, if I could. I'm sorry. I hurt you, and I'm sorry."
"Why the fuck did you do it, then?"
He would never be able to say why he said it. Why he admitted to it. He had never wanted to (to love Raphael, to hurt Phlegethon this way). "I love him."
"You -- Jesus fucking Christ, angel. You love him?"
"I -- yes." Gabriel's shoulders slumped in defeat.
Phlegethon measured out his words carefully. "And does he love you?"
Gabriel nodded weakly.
"He will die. I will find the way to kill an angel and he. Will. Die."
"No, Phlegethon, please. Do whatever you want to me, but don't hurt him. Please."
"He loves you, angel, he will die."
"Don't hurt him. Please. Don't -- it won't happen again. I promise."
"Jesus fuck, angel. I love you."
"I know. I love you too. I'm sorry."
"Stop. Fucking. Apologizing," he growled and pulled the angel into a fierce kiss.
***
Three years later, it all went wrong. By this time, Hell had settled back down, and Mephistopheles had been permitted to return to both of his lovers and so, the three were reunited (and remained unseen by any other for several days). All was well, all was well, or so it seemed. Raphael and Michael had taken custody of Michael's infant daughter Phoebe (a lengthy (OH, GOD, MAJA, I CAN'T MAKE THIS JOKE. IT'S JUST TOO WRONG.) story in and of herself), and it was all all right.
Until, of course, two toddlers appeared, fluffy white wings trailing behind them. Raphael and Gabriel were the first to meet them, that fateful day in the mansion. Twin squeals of "Pater! Father!" and "Pere! Daddy!" rang out as they attached themselves to the older angels. Exchanging a glance, Raphael and Gabriel squatted to be on the same level as the children.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken," Raphael began.
The little boy tilted his head (mannerisms, like everything else, really are genetic) at the two of them, clutching Raphael's shirt. "Mithtaken?"
"We aren't your fathers," Gabriel said.
The girl looked like she would cry. Her blue eyes (Gabriel's eyes) welled with tears. "Pere?" She turned her head from side to side, looking frantically between the two of them. "Daddy..." The boy reached out a hand to her, still not letting go of Raphael's shirt.
"Don't cry!" He levelled as much of a glare as a (very adorable) three year old could at their fathers. "Pater. Father. You're making Michael cry. Stop it."
"I --" Raphael cut himself off with a choke. "Michael?"
Still near tears, Michael looked over at him. "Yes, Daddy?"
He shook his head (oh now, that's just wrong), almost amused. "Nothing, nothing." He turned back to the boy. "What's your name, little one?"
"Mephithophewes," he said, looking at Raphael as though he was the stupidest creature to ever have graced the face of the planet (in fact, the angel was only the third stupidest, Raziel being the stupidest, and the Metatron coming (exactly) in a close second).
Raphael couldn't help it. He choked on a bit of laughter. (Gabriel, of course, simply ellipsed like that tall chick's father (it comes (ha) of sharing a typist.)) "Tell me there isn't another of you running around named Phlegethon," he said, trying to keep from cracking up (some might say he was already cracked (or, at least, crack-addled), but we'll be nice).
"Nope! Just us!" Michael beamed.
Mephistopheles had turned his attention from Raphael and his stupidity to the rest of the room. Suddenly, he let out another ear-piercing squeal and bounded over to the newest arrival to the room. "Unceh Mephithotophewes!"
Those "in the know" and who made such jokes might have commented on the fact that Pac-Man would have quite a lot of clean-up duty to attend to as the demon stared at the young angel who had attached himself to him. Raphael and Gabriel stood, and Gabriel crossed the room to Mephistopheles and Mephistopheles, Michael still attached to him and looking as if she would never let go (obligatory Titanic jokes may be inserted here, along with jokes about inserting things, at your own discretion).
Finally, the older Mephistopheles managed to speak. "Gabriel? Do you know what this is all about?"
"I --" Gabriel really didn't know where to begin.
With the faintest hint of a smile, Raphael answered for him. "Mephistopheles, meet Gabriel's son, Mephistopheles, and his daughter, Michael."
Mephistopheles's ellipses came back into full view as he stared at Raphael. "This is some kind of a joke."
"No joke, as far as I can tell."
Michael tugged at Gabriel's sleeve. "Want to go to Daddy."
He had clearly adapted to the new situation quickly, as Raphael simply automatically held out his arms for the little girl to wriggle into (if you -- on second thought, we'll just let it be noted that fathers are not for sexing). Mephistopheles continued tripping the excessive dots fantastic (thank you, Maja), and, in fact, may have made it so far as to be absolutely drowning in full stops. Gabriel facepalmed.
"I think an explanation should be provided. Quickly."
"There really isn't one. They appeared from out of nowhere."
He opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it and continued with his ellipsing. "Does Phlegethon know?"
Gabriel shook his head. "We only just found out about them."
"I'll leave you two to deal with that." Raphael reached out an arm to take Mephistopheles from Mephistopheles. The angel came (it's the first thing he'll do, you see!) to him easily and, burdened down by the two fluffy-winged children, Raphael exited the room a bare (there was no nudity, that's disgusting) second before Phlegethon arrived.
"Jesus Christ, angel, tell me he didn't really breed."
Gabriel turned a rather brilliant shade of red. "Nothing happened with him that would lead to reproduction."
"So you mean that wasn't really sex we walked in on that one time? Thank Someone."
"Phlegethon." The blushing intensified even further at the thought of that. "I thought we agreed to never mention that again."
"But it didn't happen!"
"It -- that isn't the point. The point is --"
"Do I want to hear this, angel?"
"I would assume," he began cautiously, "that you would desire to be informed of the fact that Raphael and I apparently have children named Michael and Mephistopheles."
"Not Phlegethon? I'm hurt, truly. As he will be. Messily, bloodily, painfully, and so on and so forth -- care to help, demon?"
"Phlegethon, please. This isn't -- he didn't -- we --"
"You are my angel --" Mephistopheles cleared his throat. "-- Our angel, and this is not in the contract."
"There's a contract?"
"There are many contracts. One of them is the one which gives that horrifically sexy demon over there the right to my soul. Another says that if you reproduce with your best friend, he dies. Somehow. The details are, as yet, a bit fuzzy."
"We've been over this. Don't hurt him, he's done nothing wrong."
"So how are you explaining the fuzzballs?"
"I'm really not."
"You're not -- Jesus Christ, angel. Demon? I think this calls for chains."
This is, of course, the part of the fic where Angie pulls the authorial privlege card and halts this scene, allowing you, the reader, to assume that the threesome went off to have really excellent (and vaguely kinky, apparently, thank you, Phlegethon) sex.
***
A few years passed, and the strange family had grown. Caitlin and Xathanael fit into the insanity of a family which involved various strange combinations of angels, demons, humans, best friends and boyfriends, and the description of it from some ends can take over fifty words each, and it just gets far too confusing, so we'll leave it alone. (It was and is very complicated and is easily best summarized as "a family situation that only Maja and Angie and their (very) special (with a capital self, to tell the truth) brand of Caesar/Kafka could dream up".)
When you put ten people in a room, four of whom are active fighters on opposite sides of the greatest war ever to be fought, there is bound to be at least a smidgen of chaos. In the case of this particular group of people, "smidgen" was very likely an understatement (in fact, it definitely was, as the only thing that was more of an understatement was the phrase "Raziel is slightly unused to the way things work on earth."). The repeated admonishments for someone to for Someone's sake keep Caitlin's hair out of the maple syrup and Mephistopheles to stop biting Xathanael, please which, even now, led to funny looks from the demon before the he realized that it was the other one who was being scolded, were enough to give anyone a headache, as Xathanael was insisting they had.
Raphael smiled at him, that strange smile of his. "You don't have a headache, Xathanael."
"I do so," he insisted, a rather petulant expression on his face.
"You don't. What has your father told you about lying?"
"That it is a respectable occupation and should be practiced as much as possible until even demons believe I'm telling the truth when I'm actually lying."
Phlegethon smiled brightly at that and Raphael facepalmed. "Phlegethon."
"Yes?"
"You know, I really don't see why Gabriel puts up with you, sometimes."
He grinned. "It's because I'm a sex machine."
Mephistopheles, currently occuppied in a discussion with Caitlin on the importance of putting her shoes on her feet instead of his head, managed a snort of laughter. Raphael simply sighed.
"Rule number one, Phlegethon."
"I didn't say it was necessarily with him!"
"That's worse."
"You're no fun, Raphael."
"I don't exist for your fun."
"Thank Someone. The very thought is disgusting."
"What's disgusting?" asked a rather exhausted looking Gabriel from the doorway.
"Your mom was disgusting!" came (no, I can't make this joke either, because it'll involve twinsex, since this is Peri's line of cameo) a chirrup from nearby.
"In bed last night," another voice added in.
"With Turkey?" asked a third.
"And Erin and Michael Jackson and Robin Williams!" two more voices shouted over each other before collapsing into giggles and declarations of winnage.
"Typist," said Phlegethon, Gabriel, Mephistopheles and Raphael in unison, glaring at four of the five girls who had most definitely not been in the kitchen a moment before.
"Oh, don't worry! You two," Maja pointed at Phlegethon and Mephistopheles, "get to watch!"
"With Michael!"
"And Lucifer!"
"And God!"
"While the pope jerks off!"
"Maja," the other four said. (Well, actually, that's not true. Peri declared her insane amounts of love for Maja (to absolutely no one's (and we don't mean Dili's) surprise) and Angie was laughing too hard (twinsex kills, people) for whatever she said, if she said anything, to be discernible to any human.)
When she'd gotten herself (not Peri, note the non-existence of the space) under control again, Angie looked up at the other four. "We really should get going, guys. They have a zoo to go to."
"Not the zoo." Phlegethon's eyes were wide with fear.
"Yes, Dad. The zoo." Angie defied gravity (we'll wait for Dani and company to finish the musical interlude) and kissed his cheek, earning her glares from at least half of the gathered company, which she waved off with a "typist!"
"Bye, now!" called the assmbled typists as they exited, giggling amongst themselves. Nora, however, lagged behind.
"Have good sex, you four!"
"I am not a child-molestor, typist."
"No, but your boyfriend is!"
"I am not."
"Love to stay and chat, Gabs, but your wife'll kill me if I hang out any longer! Bye-bye!"
The typists disappeared back to the place from whence they had come (...that could lead to twincest if you let this joke be made, and that's just wrong), leaving the angel unable to do nothing more than mutter denial of the fact that he has a wife and to begin studiously avoiding making eye-contact with Raphael for the duration of the day, of which we will say no more than that the lemurs were safely recaptured and we are certain that the elderly woman who suddenly found herself surrounded by lions and tigers and bears (and, according to some reports, a pig with wings) will be just fine after she recovers from her triple-heart attack.
***
Things progressed as well as one could expect them to in this sort of family for years and years. In this case, the length time skipped over by that sentence was approximately twelve years.
It was a dark and stormy night -- no, actually, it was, and through no fault of my own. A little known fact is that the angel assigned to providing maddeningly inappropriate weather for the characters involved (in this case, it really should have been a beautiful day with blue horizons) is also assigned to figuring out just how to juggle the balance of angels in heaven when one Falls and he was, of course, occupied at the time our story picks up.
Mephistopheles walked back to the mansion from the forest he had found his sister in. His wings were out, as usually happened when he was stressed, and if a more stressful situation had been discovered, he hadn't heard of it. He was soaked by the time he entered. Thankfully, most of the family was gathered in the front room already. Gabriel looked up at him with concern.
"Mephistopheles? What's wrong?"
"She Fell," he managed in a quiet, trembling voice.
"She --" Gabriel cut himself off. Mephistopheles would never even consider lying to him, especially not about something like this.
She'd Fallen. Michael. Fallen.
As he tried to process this, Raphael walked in the door. Mephistopheles immediately turned and clung to him, choking out a "Dad".
Gabriel met Raphael's eyes over Mephistopheles's shoulder. At the inquiring head-tilt, he looked away and when he spoke, it was barely loud enough for Raphael to hear him. "Michael Fell."
Raphael paled noticeably. Something seemed die in his eyes and he shrank a bit. He couldn't even find the words to deny that it had happened, to deny that -- to deny that he was breathing a sigh of relief at the realization of who they actually meant. He covered for it carefully, hating himself for it. "It's all right, Mephistopheles. She's still Michael, just --"
"Fallen. A demon."
A polite cough could be heard from across the room. Had the atmosphere of the room not been so oppresive, there might have been a faint undercurrent of amusion, but as it was, none could be summoned.
Mephistopheles turned his head, still clinging to Raphael. "I didn't mean --"
"I will look after her. She will be all right."
A little of the weight pressing down upon the soaking wet angel was lifted and he managed a faint, thankful smile.
Later, Raphael and Gabriel were finally alone. They held on tightly to each other, to everything that they were and the knowledge that, so long as nothing really mattered, everything would be genetic all right.
"What are we going to do?"
"The same thing we have. Love her, be there if she needs us. Our obligation remains unchanged."
He nodded and they remained in silence for a while longer.
"Raphael?"
"Yes?"
"Do you ever wonder what might have been?" There was no need to clarify. There never was.
"I don't let myself. If I did, I'd want it. It's a lovely thought, what we might have been. I'd want it too much if I thought of it. We have each other, as it is. That's all we need."
"It is. -- I love you."
"I love you too."
No extra meaning, no more than that. Two friends who'd chosen their paths, and nothing, not their emotions, not anything, would be allowed to interefere.
They loved too much to hurt.