Fic: A History of Heaven (Gabriel/Various Angels, PG-13 for this chapter) 20/59
For full notes and other chapters, please see the Masterpost.
Notes: More occasional bad words.
In this story, before Lucifer fell, his name was Sammael. He was not Lucifer in Heaven.
There is one other canon character operating under an OC name, but I wish for his identity to remain unknown.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 3,180
Chapter Summary: In the aftermath of the fight with the dragons, Raphael and Gabriel utterly fail to work together.
CHAPTER 20:
Stay with Michael
When Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel finally pushed back through the gates of Heaven and landed just inside its walls, Raphael touched his grace to Gabriel’s and whispered privately into his mind. Check on the Seraphim. Distract them. I want to try to heal Michael once more.
Force it on him if he tries to be a stubborn ass, Gabriel agreed with a nod. I’ll even let you blame me.
Rare moment of agreement done, the twins separated. As Raphael prowled up behind Michael, Gabriel flew for Sammael’s tower, where he knew Naomi would have gathered the angels awaiting Alastair’s debriefing.
“Gabriel! Here!”
Cariel’s voice lifted among the usual talk of the Host, and Gabriel banked left, coming to land before his Seraphim. The three had their Angels near, clustered at the base of the tower. Barachiel and Cariel still had charred hands, their dragon-burnt grace needing the attention of a Healer. Zachariah hung back, eyeing the Archangel warily.
Gabriel parted Barachiel and Cariel with brushes of his wings and stepped in front of Zachariah. The Seraph immediately ducked his head, his eyes lowered. “Gabriel, I am sorry.” The weight of having raised his sword against an Archangel was clearly weighing heavily on his mind.
“Did Cariel pass along my gratitude?” Gabriel asked, reaching out to catch Zachariah’s chin and tilt his face back up. He cupped his hands around the Seraph’s face and kissed his brow, murmuring a blessing against his Seraph’s spirit. “Don’t apologize, Zachariah. In time, my wing will heal fully, and your actions saved us from losing control of the battle. As I told Cariel, I would have ordered you to cut off my wing myself, if I had the time to think about it.”
“It was my idea,” Cariel reminded Gabriel quickly. “I ordered it. To save you. Everyone.”
Gabriel looked back at Cariel, raising one red eyebrow. His Seraph was trying to look as innocent as a Cherub, but Gabriel had a good idea what the imp was angling for. He consented anyway, turning to catch Cariel’s face in his hands and offering him the same blessing against his spirit. Cariel twitched, as if he wanted to steal another proper kiss, but he restrained himself. Gabriel was grateful. He did not want to have to punish Cariel for inappropriate behavior in public.
He wasn’t entirely sure Cariel kissing him would be completely unwelcome.
To make things fair, Gabriel kissed a blessing to Barachiel’s brow too. Then he stepped back to survey the trio. “How did our choir fair?”
“No new deaths since you took the red dragon,” Cariel reported. “Forty-six are wounded, in need of Healers.”
“Including you?”
“Yes sir.”
“And Castiel?” Gabriel remembered the Angel who had sacrificed himself to keep Gabriel safe. Castiel had fallen, but Gabriel couldn’t remember feeling his grace burning out. Of course, just about everything else had been burning at the time, so Gabriel wouldn’t have been surprised if he had missed the younger angel’s death.
“Balthazar caught him,” Zachariah grumbled. “One of my Dominions, Ezekiel, removed them both from the battle before you seized the red dragon. Castiel’s wings are in tatters, but he’ll live.”
“That dragon nearly bit him in two!” Gabriel was impressed by Castiel’s resilience. “Our Father must have plans for him. See that Marmoniel is the one to heal his wings. I want them fully restored, no scars or stiffness to hinder him.” Raphael’s second, Marmoniel, was much gentler than her blustery choirmaster and nearly as talented a Healer. Gabriel didn’t trust Castiel in Raphael’s hands, but he knew Marmoniel would always put aside any ill feelings to ensure her patients received the best treatment. “See that all those needing Healers will be tended to, and report to Alastair as soon as he calls for you.”
“Why?” Cariel asked, frowning a little. “Why is he doing the debriefings?”
Alastair was one of Sammael’s Seraphim, a younger one with a reedy voice and long, clever fingers. Alastair and his garrisons were in charge of the education and re-education of angels. They could manipulate memories, some said, reprogram angels, completely remove their personalities and leave them as naïve and obedient as fledglings. Gabriel did not like Alastair, but Sammael found the Seraph entertaining.
Gabriel shook his head at Cariel’s question. “I don’t know. Michael set something up in advance of his charge on Purgatory. It shouldn’t be a re-education, so just… do as Alastair asks, unless you feel he’s about to manipulate your minds. I want you all intact. When you’re through with him, return to your duties on Earth. Try to clean up any mess the dragons left.”
“And you?” Cariel asked.
“I’m going to speak with Michael. I’ll be in Heaven for a bit, and I’ll let you know if I leave. Go. You know what to do.”
Gabriel waited for his Seraphim to head off in search of Healers before he flew north to Michael’s tower, climbing up to his brother’s chambers. Naomi was waiting there in a seat across from Michael’s desk, hands and wings folded primly, but neither Michael nor Raphael had returned yet.
The Seraph looked up when Gabriel entered the room, looked away, and then looked back. She rose to her feet and crossed to Gabriel’s side, one light hand settling on his arm. “Archangel Gabriel. You vanished from the known realms for five days. Have you been debriefed on your experiences?”
Gabriel narrowed his eyes at the hand on his arm, otherwise remaining silent and still until Naomi pulled her hand away. “No, Seraph, I have not, and I will not report to you.” He didn’t usually throw his rank around, preferring the younger angels look up to him as a big brother instead of a stern boss, but Naomi was one angel who needed to be taught her place. She was far too friendly with her superiors, and Raphael indulged her fantasies of usurping his position. Naomi fancied herself equal to, if not better than, Gabriel himself. It was bad enough when Raphael was so arrogant. He, at least, had earned a modicum of respect. Naomi had earned nothing but scorn from Gabriel.
Naomi spread her wings in frustration. “It is my duty-”
Gabriel silenced the Seraph with a snap of his fingers, his usual patience for his younger siblings completely spent. “Oh, shut up. I’ll tell Michael what happened. Not you. Let him decide if you get to hear it.” He crossed behind Michael’s desk and draped himself in his older brother’s chair. “Now, how about you give me your report on the state of Heaven after that battle? I’ll make sure Michael hears the important stuff.” He snapped his fingers again, returning Naomi’s voice.
“I report directly to Michael!” Naomi hissed, slamming her hands on the desk across from Gabriel.
“I outrank you,” Gabriel reminded the Seraph.
“You do not lead my choir!”
“No, I don’t. But I’m the one in the big chair, behind the big desk.” Gabriel spread his arms, gesturing to the setup. “So you’re going to make your report, and then you’re going to leave. Michael doesn’t need to deal with your crap on top of everything else today.”
Naomi was about to protest, her grace spiking, but Gabriel tutted a warning and held up his hand, ready to snap. The Seraph snarled, but she grudgingly folded her wings and drew in her grace. “Fine! All seven of the draconic threats were successfully locked away in Purgatory. Twenty-six of our brothers are dead: one Seraph, Filiel, three Dominions, twenty-one Angels, and a Cherub.”
“Do you know their names?” Gabriel interrupted.
“Excuse me?”
“The twenty-five other angels who died. Do you know their names?”
Nuriel. Ramiel. Andraiel. Veron. Molach. Gabriel knew the names of all sixteen of the angels killed in his choir. Debriel. Chaiper. Fereniel. Edel. Tramon. Each loss was a separate, stabbing ache in his heart. Hondier. Solmar. Kilidri. Belorel. Viphel. Trondiel.
Gabriel knew he had little to complain about. The fallen Seraph, Filiel, had been Michael’s second in command, the very first Seraph to die. Gabriel couldn’t imagine losing Cariel. He couldn’t imagine how Michael must feel now. Michael probably watched Filiel die, trying to open Purgatory.
Still, sixteen of Gabriel’s brothers had followed him last month, sixteen had looked to him with complete trust and love, and sixteen were now gone forever.
“I have a list, here.” Naomi set a piece of paper on the desk, full of names. Gabriel flipped it over. Michael didn’t need to see the names immediately.
“What else should I tell him?”
“Keeping Purgatory’s location hidden is proving successful.”
“Successful?” Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “A large portion of three choirs was present. That’s not exactly keeping things hidden.”
“Michael has his ways,” Naomi folded her arms defiantly at Gabriel. “Let him decide if you get to hear what they are.”
Alastair. Gabriel’s jaw tightened. The “debriefing” would cut memories of Purgatory’s location out of all of the participating angels. Gabriel wanted to fly to his choir, to warn them, but he restrained himself. Michael wanted to keep Purgatory’s location hidden for a reason, and Alastair was very refined in his work. So long as all he removed was the memory of Purgatory, Gabriel could allow it. Reluctantly. “What else?” he ground out.
“Sammael’s choir grows restless. They want to know why Sammael wasn’t visible in the fight. They want their leader.”
“Don’t we all,” Gabriel muttered, pressing his fingers against his forehead. His head was aching again, but not from having an arm jammed into his shared brain. “Anything else?”
Naomi’s wings were high and tight in annoyance as she answered, “Nothing of import. The full report-”
“Leave it.” Gabriel gestured to the desk. “I’m sure Michael will read it later. You can go.” He flicked his fingers at Naomi, shooing her away.
After the Seraph left, Gabriel slumped forward and massaged his head. He needed to return his vessel to Earth, stretch his grace out and work off his post-fight jitters. Raphael had restored him to his usual power level, but it was still a frantic dancing fire, not the steady burn he was accustomed to.
Gabriel wanted to fly back to Sammael, to be wrapped in his brother’s wings again, sheltered from the world. Michael always made things right, but Sammael always made things better. Sometimes, the difference between the two was enormous.
Heaving himself out of Michael’s chair, Gabriel went to the window. If he focused, he could make out the gathered angels around Sammael’s distant tower, the numbers starting to dwindle as Alastair worked his way through them. The injured angels were clustered together for Marmoniel and her garrison of Healers. Raphael himself would be needed for some of the most severe injuries, after he finished tending to Michael. Gabriel did not envy his brother the task.
A sudden breeze ruffled Gabriel’s feathers, heralding the entrance of said brother. He turned, then dove into action. Michael was slumped against Raphael’s side, wings limp, his whole form drooping. Raphael’s grace was infused with anger as he held Michael up. Gabriel slid under Michael’s other arm, supporting his brother. “What happened!?”
“You’re the one who said to use force!”
“You did this?”
“Bolt of pure grace to the back of his head. He’ll wake soon enough,” Raphael grumbled. “Help me lay him down. Careful of his wing.”
Gabriel helped Raphael ease Michael to the floor, snapping his fingers to summon up some cushions for his brother to rest on. Raphael spread Michael’s broken wing so he wasn’t pinning it in an awkward position, his gentle fingers contrasting with his expression. The wing looked a lot healthier, but a deep investigation with Gabriel’s grace revealed the bone was still cracked. “You didn’t heal him?”
Raphael flicked his wings at Gabriel. “I mended it enough to be used without injuring himself further, but left it damaged enough to still hurt. You know he’d have my head if I healed it fully, or worse, he’d just break it again himself.”
“But why?” Gabriel demanded, more of his unconscious brother than his conscious one. He smoothed Michael’s white feathers under his fingers. “Why does Michael insist on the injury?”
“It distracts him,” Raphael said.
“Exactly!”
“No, that’s why.” Raphael touched his fingers over the center of Michael’s chest. “He’s hurting here, Gabriel, a gnawing pit of darkness that I can’t heal. Only his Light Bringer can brighten it. He loves Sammael, more than me, more than you. Maybe even more than Father.”
“I know that,” Gabriel mumbled, pressing his hand against Michael’s chest. He knew what a dark emptiness felt like. He had genuinely been alone in Sammael’s realm, with only one brother for company. How much worse must it be to be completely surrounded by brothers, and only missing the one you needed? “But we’re here for him.”
“You weren’t.” Raphael was cold as he watched his twin. “Sammael turned on him, and you disappeared. The two angels he loves the most, gone. Filiel assisted me in keeping Michael contained, lest he snap like Sammael. We were giving orders we claimed were his, to not scare the Host. When your grace signature reappeared, he came back to us, but before then…”
Gabriel hunched his shoulders, an unpleasant feeling of guilt pressing down on them. He shouldn’t have flown blindly after Sammael. He shouldn’t have stayed as long as he did. He shouldn’t have forced Raphael and Filiel to run Heaven alone.
Filiel. “He’s dead,” Gabriel whispered to Raphael. “Filiel. He was killed in the battle.”
Raphael swore just as quietly, his great wings sweeping around as if to cradle Michael. “You cannot leave,” he ordered Gabriel.
“I wasn’t going to-”
“No.“ Raphael was quiet but firm, gathering an aura of power around him. It resonated in his voice, the spread of his wings, the height of his form. Gabriel knew all the tricks to puff up for the lesser angels, but he’d never had it turned on him. The results were… impressive. Intimidating, if he was going to be entirely honest. He ducked his head and lowered his wings in a submissive display, though it rubbed his feathers the wrong way to present one to Raphael. His twin accepted the gesture without crowing over it. “You must stay in Heaven now, until Michael releases you. No running off to Sammael, no hands-on monitoring of Earth. You can manage your choir from your tower.”
“Raphael, I know how to stay in Heaven,” Gabriel said with a roll of his eyes.
“Do you?” Raphael challenged. “Michael is not going to order you to stay. He probably won’t even ask. But he will need you.”
“I know!” Gabriel didn’t like being talked to like he were a fledgling again. “I was just going to return my-have Cariel return my vessel to his home, and then I would set up shop in my tower-shut up.” Raphael hadn’t said anything, but his smug look when Gabriel almost said he’d leave Heaven spoke volumes about his perception of Gabriel’s competence. “I’ll stay here, okay? Cariel can be the Messenger’s messenger.”
“About Cariel.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed at his brother. “What about Cariel?”
“You spend a lot of time with him. Especially recently. Maybe you should cut back.”
“He is my second!” Gabriel snapped, flinging his arms out. “Of course I spend a lot of time with him! He helps me run my choir! You spend time with Marmoniel, and Michael was always consulting Filiel.”
“Michael needs to be your first right now,” Raphael answered calmly. “Not Cariel.”
“Michael does come first! Cariel is second!”
“Which is why you wasted time kissing Cariel in the ocean instead of returning to Michael’s side?”
Gabriel’s wings flared in offense as Raphael’s smugness practically radiated across Michael. “How did you-”
“You just confirmed it.”
Gabriel clenched his jaw, looking down at Michael instead of at his twin. “But why did you suspect-?”
“I have my ways.”
Cariel wouldn’t have told anyone. Gabriel did not doubt his loyalty. No one else had been in the water with them. Zachariah and his garrisons had been above the ocean-could one of them have seen? No, Cariel hadn’t asked for the kiss until they were beyond the limits of even angelic sight. No one else had witnessed the Seraph stealing a kiss from his superior, and Cariel would never, never betray him. Not to Raphael!
“Michael will need your attention and love focused on him, not on a lesser brother.” Raphael was speaking again, managing to upset Gabriel further with each word he spoke.
“There is nothing lesser about Cariel or any of our younger brothers! I will not sit here to be lectured on assumed improprieties by a brother who spies on me!” Gabriel leapt to his feet, clenching his hands into fists so he wouldn’t lash out at his twin. “I will stay in Heaven for Michael, but that doesn’t mean I have to answer to you!”
“If you can’t handle being accused of impropriety, then perhaps you shouldn’t be so improper!” Raphael flowed to his feet as well, looming over Gabriel again, but Gabriel wasn’t about to back down this time. He loomed right back, spreading his wings and letting fire crackle among his feathers, between his fingers. “I didn’t set my spies until after you began!”
“I don’t spy on you!”
“Hester and Ion report to you weekly!”
“They are my friends! I don’t end friendships simply because they are now in your choir!”
“Then why did you-”
“Stop it!“ Michael, awake now, surged up between the pair, shoving them apart with his wings. “Raphael, Gabriel, you are brothers! Partners! Twins! Can’t you pretend to like each other for one fucking day?”
No one could loom like Michael could, towering above the quarreling Archangels, his thousand wings stretched wide, blocking the light of Heaven from his younger brothers. Gabriel cowered beneath his brother’s anger, covering his head with his wings as he did in God’s presence. “I’m sorry, Michael.”
“Sorry, Michael,” Raphael echoed, mirroring Gabriel’s submission.
The oldest angel held his anger for a moment longer before releasing it, his grace sliding blank. Michael curled his broken wing forward, examining the injury. “You healed me.” His voice was flat, as blank as his grace. Gabriel was not fooled into believing the danger was past.
“Not entirely,” Raphael assured Michael. “Just… some.”
Michael flapped his wing and gave a nod, tucking it against his back. “You rendered me unconscious.”
“I… yes, Michael.”
“I did not know that was possible.” Michael paused with a flicker of annoyance. “Do not do that again.”
“No, Michael.”
“Now, Naomi-”
“I sent her away,” Gabriel piped up. “She made her report to me and left the full write-up on your desk.”
“I see.” Michael strode to his desk, flipping over the list of the dead. Gabriel lifted his head to see Michael tracing Filiel’s name with a finger.
“Michael?”
“Leave me.” Michael bowed his head, hand clenching over the list. “Both of you. Go.”
Next...
Notes: More occasional bad words.
In this story, before Lucifer fell, his name was Sammael. He was not Lucifer in Heaven.
There is one other canon character operating under an OC name, but I wish for his identity to remain unknown.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 3,180
Chapter Summary: In the aftermath of the fight with the dragons, Raphael and Gabriel utterly fail to work together.
CHAPTER 20:
Stay with Michael
When Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel finally pushed back through the gates of Heaven and landed just inside its walls, Raphael touched his grace to Gabriel’s and whispered privately into his mind. Check on the Seraphim. Distract them. I want to try to heal Michael once more.
Force it on him if he tries to be a stubborn ass, Gabriel agreed with a nod. I’ll even let you blame me.
Rare moment of agreement done, the twins separated. As Raphael prowled up behind Michael, Gabriel flew for Sammael’s tower, where he knew Naomi would have gathered the angels awaiting Alastair’s debriefing.
“Gabriel! Here!”
Cariel’s voice lifted among the usual talk of the Host, and Gabriel banked left, coming to land before his Seraphim. The three had their Angels near, clustered at the base of the tower. Barachiel and Cariel still had charred hands, their dragon-burnt grace needing the attention of a Healer. Zachariah hung back, eyeing the Archangel warily.
Gabriel parted Barachiel and Cariel with brushes of his wings and stepped in front of Zachariah. The Seraph immediately ducked his head, his eyes lowered. “Gabriel, I am sorry.” The weight of having raised his sword against an Archangel was clearly weighing heavily on his mind.
“Did Cariel pass along my gratitude?” Gabriel asked, reaching out to catch Zachariah’s chin and tilt his face back up. He cupped his hands around the Seraph’s face and kissed his brow, murmuring a blessing against his Seraph’s spirit. “Don’t apologize, Zachariah. In time, my wing will heal fully, and your actions saved us from losing control of the battle. As I told Cariel, I would have ordered you to cut off my wing myself, if I had the time to think about it.”
“It was my idea,” Cariel reminded Gabriel quickly. “I ordered it. To save you. Everyone.”
Gabriel looked back at Cariel, raising one red eyebrow. His Seraph was trying to look as innocent as a Cherub, but Gabriel had a good idea what the imp was angling for. He consented anyway, turning to catch Cariel’s face in his hands and offering him the same blessing against his spirit. Cariel twitched, as if he wanted to steal another proper kiss, but he restrained himself. Gabriel was grateful. He did not want to have to punish Cariel for inappropriate behavior in public.
He wasn’t entirely sure Cariel kissing him would be completely unwelcome.
To make things fair, Gabriel kissed a blessing to Barachiel’s brow too. Then he stepped back to survey the trio. “How did our choir fair?”
“No new deaths since you took the red dragon,” Cariel reported. “Forty-six are wounded, in need of Healers.”
“Including you?”
“Yes sir.”
“And Castiel?” Gabriel remembered the Angel who had sacrificed himself to keep Gabriel safe. Castiel had fallen, but Gabriel couldn’t remember feeling his grace burning out. Of course, just about everything else had been burning at the time, so Gabriel wouldn’t have been surprised if he had missed the younger angel’s death.
“Balthazar caught him,” Zachariah grumbled. “One of my Dominions, Ezekiel, removed them both from the battle before you seized the red dragon. Castiel’s wings are in tatters, but he’ll live.”
“That dragon nearly bit him in two!” Gabriel was impressed by Castiel’s resilience. “Our Father must have plans for him. See that Marmoniel is the one to heal his wings. I want them fully restored, no scars or stiffness to hinder him.” Raphael’s second, Marmoniel, was much gentler than her blustery choirmaster and nearly as talented a Healer. Gabriel didn’t trust Castiel in Raphael’s hands, but he knew Marmoniel would always put aside any ill feelings to ensure her patients received the best treatment. “See that all those needing Healers will be tended to, and report to Alastair as soon as he calls for you.”
“Why?” Cariel asked, frowning a little. “Why is he doing the debriefings?”
Alastair was one of Sammael’s Seraphim, a younger one with a reedy voice and long, clever fingers. Alastair and his garrisons were in charge of the education and re-education of angels. They could manipulate memories, some said, reprogram angels, completely remove their personalities and leave them as naïve and obedient as fledglings. Gabriel did not like Alastair, but Sammael found the Seraph entertaining.
Gabriel shook his head at Cariel’s question. “I don’t know. Michael set something up in advance of his charge on Purgatory. It shouldn’t be a re-education, so just… do as Alastair asks, unless you feel he’s about to manipulate your minds. I want you all intact. When you’re through with him, return to your duties on Earth. Try to clean up any mess the dragons left.”
“And you?” Cariel asked.
“I’m going to speak with Michael. I’ll be in Heaven for a bit, and I’ll let you know if I leave. Go. You know what to do.”
Gabriel waited for his Seraphim to head off in search of Healers before he flew north to Michael’s tower, climbing up to his brother’s chambers. Naomi was waiting there in a seat across from Michael’s desk, hands and wings folded primly, but neither Michael nor Raphael had returned yet.
The Seraph looked up when Gabriel entered the room, looked away, and then looked back. She rose to her feet and crossed to Gabriel’s side, one light hand settling on his arm. “Archangel Gabriel. You vanished from the known realms for five days. Have you been debriefed on your experiences?”
Gabriel narrowed his eyes at the hand on his arm, otherwise remaining silent and still until Naomi pulled her hand away. “No, Seraph, I have not, and I will not report to you.” He didn’t usually throw his rank around, preferring the younger angels look up to him as a big brother instead of a stern boss, but Naomi was one angel who needed to be taught her place. She was far too friendly with her superiors, and Raphael indulged her fantasies of usurping his position. Naomi fancied herself equal to, if not better than, Gabriel himself. It was bad enough when Raphael was so arrogant. He, at least, had earned a modicum of respect. Naomi had earned nothing but scorn from Gabriel.
Naomi spread her wings in frustration. “It is my duty-”
Gabriel silenced the Seraph with a snap of his fingers, his usual patience for his younger siblings completely spent. “Oh, shut up. I’ll tell Michael what happened. Not you. Let him decide if you get to hear it.” He crossed behind Michael’s desk and draped himself in his older brother’s chair. “Now, how about you give me your report on the state of Heaven after that battle? I’ll make sure Michael hears the important stuff.” He snapped his fingers again, returning Naomi’s voice.
“I report directly to Michael!” Naomi hissed, slamming her hands on the desk across from Gabriel.
“I outrank you,” Gabriel reminded the Seraph.
“You do not lead my choir!”
“No, I don’t. But I’m the one in the big chair, behind the big desk.” Gabriel spread his arms, gesturing to the setup. “So you’re going to make your report, and then you’re going to leave. Michael doesn’t need to deal with your crap on top of everything else today.”
Naomi was about to protest, her grace spiking, but Gabriel tutted a warning and held up his hand, ready to snap. The Seraph snarled, but she grudgingly folded her wings and drew in her grace. “Fine! All seven of the draconic threats were successfully locked away in Purgatory. Twenty-six of our brothers are dead: one Seraph, Filiel, three Dominions, twenty-one Angels, and a Cherub.”
“Do you know their names?” Gabriel interrupted.
“Excuse me?”
“The twenty-five other angels who died. Do you know their names?”
Nuriel. Ramiel. Andraiel. Veron. Molach. Gabriel knew the names of all sixteen of the angels killed in his choir. Debriel. Chaiper. Fereniel. Edel. Tramon. Each loss was a separate, stabbing ache in his heart. Hondier. Solmar. Kilidri. Belorel. Viphel. Trondiel.
Gabriel knew he had little to complain about. The fallen Seraph, Filiel, had been Michael’s second in command, the very first Seraph to die. Gabriel couldn’t imagine losing Cariel. He couldn’t imagine how Michael must feel now. Michael probably watched Filiel die, trying to open Purgatory.
Still, sixteen of Gabriel’s brothers had followed him last month, sixteen had looked to him with complete trust and love, and sixteen were now gone forever.
“I have a list, here.” Naomi set a piece of paper on the desk, full of names. Gabriel flipped it over. Michael didn’t need to see the names immediately.
“What else should I tell him?”
“Keeping Purgatory’s location hidden is proving successful.”
“Successful?” Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “A large portion of three choirs was present. That’s not exactly keeping things hidden.”
“Michael has his ways,” Naomi folded her arms defiantly at Gabriel. “Let him decide if you get to hear what they are.”
Alastair. Gabriel’s jaw tightened. The “debriefing” would cut memories of Purgatory’s location out of all of the participating angels. Gabriel wanted to fly to his choir, to warn them, but he restrained himself. Michael wanted to keep Purgatory’s location hidden for a reason, and Alastair was very refined in his work. So long as all he removed was the memory of Purgatory, Gabriel could allow it. Reluctantly. “What else?” he ground out.
“Sammael’s choir grows restless. They want to know why Sammael wasn’t visible in the fight. They want their leader.”
“Don’t we all,” Gabriel muttered, pressing his fingers against his forehead. His head was aching again, but not from having an arm jammed into his shared brain. “Anything else?”
Naomi’s wings were high and tight in annoyance as she answered, “Nothing of import. The full report-”
“Leave it.” Gabriel gestured to the desk. “I’m sure Michael will read it later. You can go.” He flicked his fingers at Naomi, shooing her away.
After the Seraph left, Gabriel slumped forward and massaged his head. He needed to return his vessel to Earth, stretch his grace out and work off his post-fight jitters. Raphael had restored him to his usual power level, but it was still a frantic dancing fire, not the steady burn he was accustomed to.
Gabriel wanted to fly back to Sammael, to be wrapped in his brother’s wings again, sheltered from the world. Michael always made things right, but Sammael always made things better. Sometimes, the difference between the two was enormous.
Heaving himself out of Michael’s chair, Gabriel went to the window. If he focused, he could make out the gathered angels around Sammael’s distant tower, the numbers starting to dwindle as Alastair worked his way through them. The injured angels were clustered together for Marmoniel and her garrison of Healers. Raphael himself would be needed for some of the most severe injuries, after he finished tending to Michael. Gabriel did not envy his brother the task.
A sudden breeze ruffled Gabriel’s feathers, heralding the entrance of said brother. He turned, then dove into action. Michael was slumped against Raphael’s side, wings limp, his whole form drooping. Raphael’s grace was infused with anger as he held Michael up. Gabriel slid under Michael’s other arm, supporting his brother. “What happened!?”
“You’re the one who said to use force!”
“You did this?”
“Bolt of pure grace to the back of his head. He’ll wake soon enough,” Raphael grumbled. “Help me lay him down. Careful of his wing.”
Gabriel helped Raphael ease Michael to the floor, snapping his fingers to summon up some cushions for his brother to rest on. Raphael spread Michael’s broken wing so he wasn’t pinning it in an awkward position, his gentle fingers contrasting with his expression. The wing looked a lot healthier, but a deep investigation with Gabriel’s grace revealed the bone was still cracked. “You didn’t heal him?”
Raphael flicked his wings at Gabriel. “I mended it enough to be used without injuring himself further, but left it damaged enough to still hurt. You know he’d have my head if I healed it fully, or worse, he’d just break it again himself.”
“But why?” Gabriel demanded, more of his unconscious brother than his conscious one. He smoothed Michael’s white feathers under his fingers. “Why does Michael insist on the injury?”
“It distracts him,” Raphael said.
“Exactly!”
“No, that’s why.” Raphael touched his fingers over the center of Michael’s chest. “He’s hurting here, Gabriel, a gnawing pit of darkness that I can’t heal. Only his Light Bringer can brighten it. He loves Sammael, more than me, more than you. Maybe even more than Father.”
“I know that,” Gabriel mumbled, pressing his hand against Michael’s chest. He knew what a dark emptiness felt like. He had genuinely been alone in Sammael’s realm, with only one brother for company. How much worse must it be to be completely surrounded by brothers, and only missing the one you needed? “But we’re here for him.”
“You weren’t.” Raphael was cold as he watched his twin. “Sammael turned on him, and you disappeared. The two angels he loves the most, gone. Filiel assisted me in keeping Michael contained, lest he snap like Sammael. We were giving orders we claimed were his, to not scare the Host. When your grace signature reappeared, he came back to us, but before then…”
Gabriel hunched his shoulders, an unpleasant feeling of guilt pressing down on them. He shouldn’t have flown blindly after Sammael. He shouldn’t have stayed as long as he did. He shouldn’t have forced Raphael and Filiel to run Heaven alone.
Filiel. “He’s dead,” Gabriel whispered to Raphael. “Filiel. He was killed in the battle.”
Raphael swore just as quietly, his great wings sweeping around as if to cradle Michael. “You cannot leave,” he ordered Gabriel.
“I wasn’t going to-”
“No.“ Raphael was quiet but firm, gathering an aura of power around him. It resonated in his voice, the spread of his wings, the height of his form. Gabriel knew all the tricks to puff up for the lesser angels, but he’d never had it turned on him. The results were… impressive. Intimidating, if he was going to be entirely honest. He ducked his head and lowered his wings in a submissive display, though it rubbed his feathers the wrong way to present one to Raphael. His twin accepted the gesture without crowing over it. “You must stay in Heaven now, until Michael releases you. No running off to Sammael, no hands-on monitoring of Earth. You can manage your choir from your tower.”
“Raphael, I know how to stay in Heaven,” Gabriel said with a roll of his eyes.
“Do you?” Raphael challenged. “Michael is not going to order you to stay. He probably won’t even ask. But he will need you.”
“I know!” Gabriel didn’t like being talked to like he were a fledgling again. “I was just going to return my-have Cariel return my vessel to his home, and then I would set up shop in my tower-shut up.” Raphael hadn’t said anything, but his smug look when Gabriel almost said he’d leave Heaven spoke volumes about his perception of Gabriel’s competence. “I’ll stay here, okay? Cariel can be the Messenger’s messenger.”
“About Cariel.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed at his brother. “What about Cariel?”
“You spend a lot of time with him. Especially recently. Maybe you should cut back.”
“He is my second!” Gabriel snapped, flinging his arms out. “Of course I spend a lot of time with him! He helps me run my choir! You spend time with Marmoniel, and Michael was always consulting Filiel.”
“Michael needs to be your first right now,” Raphael answered calmly. “Not Cariel.”
“Michael does come first! Cariel is second!”
“Which is why you wasted time kissing Cariel in the ocean instead of returning to Michael’s side?”
Gabriel’s wings flared in offense as Raphael’s smugness practically radiated across Michael. “How did you-”
“You just confirmed it.”
Gabriel clenched his jaw, looking down at Michael instead of at his twin. “But why did you suspect-?”
“I have my ways.”
Cariel wouldn’t have told anyone. Gabriel did not doubt his loyalty. No one else had been in the water with them. Zachariah and his garrisons had been above the ocean-could one of them have seen? No, Cariel hadn’t asked for the kiss until they were beyond the limits of even angelic sight. No one else had witnessed the Seraph stealing a kiss from his superior, and Cariel would never, never betray him. Not to Raphael!
“Michael will need your attention and love focused on him, not on a lesser brother.” Raphael was speaking again, managing to upset Gabriel further with each word he spoke.
“There is nothing lesser about Cariel or any of our younger brothers! I will not sit here to be lectured on assumed improprieties by a brother who spies on me!” Gabriel leapt to his feet, clenching his hands into fists so he wouldn’t lash out at his twin. “I will stay in Heaven for Michael, but that doesn’t mean I have to answer to you!”
“If you can’t handle being accused of impropriety, then perhaps you shouldn’t be so improper!” Raphael flowed to his feet as well, looming over Gabriel again, but Gabriel wasn’t about to back down this time. He loomed right back, spreading his wings and letting fire crackle among his feathers, between his fingers. “I didn’t set my spies until after you began!”
“I don’t spy on you!”
“Hester and Ion report to you weekly!”
“They are my friends! I don’t end friendships simply because they are now in your choir!”
“Then why did you-”
“Stop it!“ Michael, awake now, surged up between the pair, shoving them apart with his wings. “Raphael, Gabriel, you are brothers! Partners! Twins! Can’t you pretend to like each other for one fucking day?”
No one could loom like Michael could, towering above the quarreling Archangels, his thousand wings stretched wide, blocking the light of Heaven from his younger brothers. Gabriel cowered beneath his brother’s anger, covering his head with his wings as he did in God’s presence. “I’m sorry, Michael.”
“Sorry, Michael,” Raphael echoed, mirroring Gabriel’s submission.
The oldest angel held his anger for a moment longer before releasing it, his grace sliding blank. Michael curled his broken wing forward, examining the injury. “You healed me.” His voice was flat, as blank as his grace. Gabriel was not fooled into believing the danger was past.
“Not entirely,” Raphael assured Michael. “Just… some.”
Michael flapped his wing and gave a nod, tucking it against his back. “You rendered me unconscious.”
“I… yes, Michael.”
“I did not know that was possible.” Michael paused with a flicker of annoyance. “Do not do that again.”
“No, Michael.”
“Now, Naomi-”
“I sent her away,” Gabriel piped up. “She made her report to me and left the full write-up on your desk.”
“I see.” Michael strode to his desk, flipping over the list of the dead. Gabriel lifted his head to see Michael tracing Filiel’s name with a finger.
“Michael?”
“Leave me.” Michael bowed his head, hand clenching over the list. “Both of you. Go.”
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