You sonofabitch. [And this man is not used to Ben standing up, is used to the cowed little sergeant who's afraid of him, and he's standing just a little too close to the bars of the cage. Ben's hands shoot out, one grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him close, the other closing around his ring hand and crushing it in a grip grown preternaturally strong.
The insurgent leader screams himself now, music to Ben's ears, and all the others are shouting in various states of confusion. Before anyone quite knows what he's done, he strips the ring off, shoves the leader away, and backs against the wall.]
[Guriel lies there shuddering, sprawled facedown in the filth of the cave floor, trying to recover from the agony enough to make the pieces of the situation fit together -- why is everyone shouting, why did the human stand up for him, why is the Master screaming, why . . .
Why can't he feel the Master's will?
His head jerks up, his motions are clumsy and too broad, muscles readjusting to responding to something besides agony, but he doesn't even notice. His world has narrowed down to the gold band in the American's hand.]
Ben doesn't even know what to do with the damned thing. The angel has stopped screaming, which is good. But they're stuck in a cage and surrounded by angry, armed people, which is bad.]
[Guriel shudders and shrinks back, trying to disappear into the floor and simultaneously fixated on the American, on the ring, trying to predict what he'll do . . .
It's insane to ask for his ring, it's more insane than reaching for it, but they have no time, the Master's already looming and he has the keys and in another moment he'll be in here, the human will be dead, and Guriel will be even sorrier than usual that he's still alive . . .]
[And Ben hesitates for a bare instant, because what if the angel cuts and runs without him, hell, he's got no reason whatsoever to take Ben if he goes...
But it's not right for him to keep the ring.
Ben presses it into the angel's hand and closes his fingers around it.] It's yours. Please just take me with you.
[Guriel takes a gasping breath, like someone coming up for air after nearly drowning, oh God how can this be real how can this be happening he's lost his mind he's finally gone insane, this is a trick or a trap, this is a hallucination born of Hellfire . . .
But even if it's any or all of those things, he has to take the chance, he has to run, and he's not even conscious of the moment when he grabs the American's wrist and Moves them both away, anywhere that isn't here, please God let this be real oh please oh please . . .]
[Ben's never moved this way before, and it's the freakiest experience he's ever had in a life that's just become the definition of "freaky." They come back into the world beside a desert oasis, and he collapses to the ground as his legs refuse to hold him up anymore. He can't believe it.]
[Guriel doesn't answer at first; he's too busy scrabbling backwards with his ring clutched to his chest, putting distance between himself and the American. Human is human is human, and right now with the ring in his hand Guriel doesn't want to risk it, even if . . .
Even if this human gave him back his ring. Stood up for him against his Master when the American knew full well what the man was capable of doing in retaliation.
His back hits a tree, and Guriel takes a shuddering breath, leaning against the rough bark. The ring is heavy and unreal in his hand.]
[Guriel shrinks away from him, frightened by the words for reasons he couldn't begin to explain. The balance of power has shifted, the American is no longer the weakest person in the room, no longer a captive who poses no threat to Guriel, now he's the only human here which makes the chances of him hurting Guriel monumentally greater . . .
The ring. The ring is in his hand, his hand, Guriel's hand. Which means he's . . .
Free. Free isn't a thing, not for Guriel, he's trapped he always will be, this is just another trap. Somehow. He doesn't know how, but it has to be. The alternative is too frightening.
Wait. Question. The human asked him a question, he'll be angry if Guriel doesn't say something, anything, think Guri hurry what did he ask what do you say . . .
The angel runs his tongue over his bottom lip, still shrinking back against the tree.] I'm not hurt.
[Guriel flinches bodily, trying to make himself smaller, and later, much later looking back on this conversation he'll wonder why he didn't just Move away, run and never look back, but the honest truth of it is that he's not even thinking about what he can do with the ring right now. Having the ring is one thing, having the will to use it is another.
Besides which, those "Thank yous" are knocking him off his equilibrium. They're remnants of a different time, a different life, and they scare him. What does he even say?] You're welcome.
[Ben gives him a bare nod. There's actually a lot of water here, and so he's not too worried about contaminating it when he scrubs the blood off his skin. Breathing. He can do this.] I'm gonna take a bath.
I'm not sure where we are. Do you know? Any idea where the closest Americans are? [Still ticking over logistics. He can survive out here, he's pretty sure, as a wolf.
[Guriel shakes his head and then remembers himself, still cowering like he's waiting for the American to strike him or hit him with Hellfire.] Sharjhan. We're near Sharjhan.
[He doesn't say home. Guriel doesn't have a home anymore, unless it's the cold, filthy nightmare of a cave they just ran away from. Maybe the name of the village still carries something of the same intonation that home would, but he doesn't do it on purpose.
He doesn't miss it. He hated it just as much as he does everything else. Really.
[Ben doesn't miss the inflection, and he nods again. He's never actually talked to an angel before. He's peripherally aware of them, but he doesn't run in the circles of the hoi polloi who own them.] Are you gonna go back there? Now that you can do what you want?
Again.]
Oh, God, just let me die...
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The insurgent leader screams himself now, music to Ben's ears, and all the others are shouting in various states of confusion. Before anyone quite knows what he's done, he strips the ring off, shoves the leader away, and backs against the wall.]
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Why can't he feel the Master's will?
His head jerks up, his motions are clumsy and too broad, muscles readjusting to responding to something besides agony, but he doesn't even notice. His world has narrowed down to the gold band in the American's hand.]
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Ben doesn't even know what to do with the damned thing. The angel has stopped screaming, which is good. But they're stuck in a cage and surrounded by angry, armed people, which is bad.]
Can you get us out of here?
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It's insane to ask for his ring, it's more insane than reaching for it, but they have no time, the Master's already looming and he has the keys and in another moment he'll be in here, the human will be dead, and Guriel will be even sorrier than usual that he's still alive . . .]
Ring. I need. Need to touch it . . .
[And he cringes, waiting for the world to end.]
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But it's not right for him to keep the ring.
Ben presses it into the angel's hand and closes his fingers around it.] It's yours. Please just take me with you.
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But even if it's any or all of those things, he has to take the chance, he has to run, and he's not even conscious of the moment when he grabs the American's wrist and Moves them both away, anywhere that isn't here, please God let this be real oh please oh please . . .]
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Did that really just happen? Omigod, did that...
Are we outta that fuckin' cave? For real?
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Even if this human gave him back his ring. Stood up for him against his Master when the American knew full well what the man was capable of doing in retaliation.
His back hits a tree, and Guriel takes a shuddering breath, leaning against the rough bark. The ring is heavy and unreal in his hand.]
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Oh, God, so many things. Get cleaned up. Find some clothes. Find an American encampment and report.
He eyes the angel, who seems to be having more trouble with this than he is.] You okay?
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The ring. The ring is in his hand, his hand, Guriel's hand. Which means he's . . .
Free. Free isn't a thing, not for Guriel, he's trapped he always will be, this is just another trap. Somehow. He doesn't know how, but it has to be. The alternative is too frightening.
Wait. Question. The human asked him a question, he'll be angry if Guriel doesn't say something, anything, think Guri hurry what did he ask what do you say . . .
The angel runs his tongue over his bottom lip, still shrinking back against the tree.] I'm not hurt.
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Thank you. You didn't have to take me with you, and I-- [He stops, and swallows, and closes his eyes.] Just. Thanks.
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Besides which, those "Thank yous" are knocking him off his equilibrium. They're remnants of a different time, a different life, and they scare him. What does he even say?] You're welcome.
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I'm not sure where we are. Do you know? Any idea where the closest Americans are? [Still ticking over logistics. He can survive out here, he's pretty sure, as a wolf.
He'd rather not.]
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[He doesn't say home. Guriel doesn't have a home anymore, unless it's the cold, filthy nightmare of a cave they just ran away from. Maybe the name of the village still carries something of the same intonation that home would, but he doesn't do it on purpose.
He doesn't miss it. He hated it just as much as he does everything else. Really.
. . . really.]
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