Fic: The Left Behind (Various Angels, PG) 6/6
For full notes and other chapters, please see the Masterpost.
Notes: This is the sequel to A History of Heaven.
Chapter Rating: PG
Chapter word count: 2,608
Chapter Summary: The year is 1656, and Barachiel has come by for a visit with his big brother.
CHAPTER 6:
The Fall
“Knock knock!” Barachiel peered around the door of Cariel’s office, tapping lightly on the frame. “Are you busy?”
Cariel looked up from his model of the world, hastily trying to smooth out the crackling anger in his grace when he recognized his brother. “No, not really. Hello, Barachiel. What brings you here today?”
“I wasn’t busy either.” Barachiel carefully shut the door behind him as he stepped into Cariel’s office, a little frown forming as his eyes scanned over Cariel’s grace. “You’re looking stressed.” Cariel returned the comment with a flat look, and Barachiel dipped his head in assent. “As always,” he amended. “Cariel, when was the last time you left Heaven?”
“We’re not allowed to leave,” Cariel reminded his brother, pressing his hand over the virtual Earth to dismiss it.
“Not go to Earth,” Barachiel shook his head. “Just out to the Borderlands. We’re allowed there.”
“But why would I bother?” Cariel asked. “There’s nothing there.”
“Precisely.” Barachiel linked his hands together behind his back and smiled sweetly at Cariel. “No Archangels.”
Cariel held Barachiel’s gaze for a moment before he was shoving his chair back, unable to get to his feet fast enough. Barachiel laughed and held out his hand for Cariel, and the two leapt off toward the gates of Heaven together.
Once the two Seraphim had passed through the western gate, the oppressive weight of Heaven fell away from their wings. Cariel surged forward, flying as hard and fast as he could just because he could. Barachiel kept pace shortly behind him, his wings fully healed now, as rich and full as they had been before the Nephilim had cut them from his back.
Far from Heaven, Cariel finally stopped flying, spreading his wings and letting himself drift in the grey blankness of the Borderlands. He could feel some of his brothers out even further away, Raphael’s warriors patrolling, and knew they were safe here. There were monsters that lived in this empty space, but Raphael was good about beating them back to the very edges of the universe.
Barachiel curved in beside Cariel and threaded his wings through his brother’s to keep them together as they floated in the empty space. He stroked his grace against Cariel’s, and Cariel smiled for the first time in years. “Thank you, Barachiel,” he murmured. “I needed this.”
“I figured as much.” Barachiel dipped his hand into his grace, rummaging around until he pulled out a little package. “I actually brought something for you.” He offered it to Cariel.
Cariel accepted the package curiously, pulling open the wrapping to reveal… “Manna! I didn’t think,” he trailed off, narrowing his eyes at Barachiel. “This is stolen.” The Archangels used to offer manna at their weekly meetings with the Seraphim, or as gifts and blessings to injured angels or angels who had performed their duties well, but they had stopped that long ago, around the time Gabriel had left. What used to be a common reassurance of hope and the love of God had all but vanished overnight, doled out very sparingly only to the most injured angels. There was no way the uninjured Barachiel could have legally gotten his hands on any.
“Of course it is,” Barachiel answered with a cheeky smile. “Raphael certainly hasn’t been spreading it around.”
“You stole manna from Raphael!?”
“I stole nothing!” Barachiel pressed his hand against his chest in mock offense. “I really didn’t. It’s actually from Balthazar. He asked me to give it to you.”
“Balthazar?” Cariel frowned, unable to resist the temptation of the manna any longer and taking a piece for himself. The flavor of the bread burst across his tongue, a rush of warmth and security washing through his grace. He felt wrapped in Gabriel’s wings again, the furnace of his Archangel’s ever-burning core pressed tight against his own. He felt safe and cherished and valued, and he felt good again.
When he opened his eyes (and when had he closed them?), he found Barachiel smiling knowingly at him. Manna had never been so strong before… but then again, Heaven had never been so desolate before. Cariel held out the package, offering the bread to Barachiel so his brother could take a piece for himself.
Barachiel barely hesitated at all before accepting the gift. Their craving for the feelings invoked by the manna far outweighed the politeness of taking some of a brother’s present. Cariel watched Barachiel taste the rare bread, his wings giving a little shiver of joy as he savored the treat. “Good?”
“I’d forgotten…” Barachiel sighed, leaning over to rest his head against Cariel’s shoulder. “Balthazar must have genuinely been grateful to give this up. He’s not exactly the most selfless of angels.”
“Did he say why?” Cariel asked, pinching another piece of the manna, holding in his mouth as long as he could.
“He said it’s been two hundred years since Castiel was taken, and he thinks it’s over?” Barachiel shrugged. “He said he thought you’d understand.”
“Ah…” Marmoniel had been successful, then. Cariel had wondered, but he hadn’t been able to manufacture an excuse to find any of Anael’s angels to ask them how Castiel was. “Naomi had been torturing Castiel. I asked Marmoniel to stop her. I didn’t think she actually had.”
“The saddest part of that,” Barachiel murmured, “is that I’m not at all surprised to hear an angel’s been tortured by another. That’s practically normal now.”
Cariel looped his arm around Barachiel’s back, hating that his brother was right.
Barachiel sighed. “From what I’ve heard, Balthazar really is grateful. Aside from… well, this,” the Seraph gestured at the manna, “he hasn’t really acted up in well over a century. Zachariah thinks it’s Castiel’s good influence. Zachariah thinks Castiel is a good influence!”
“Are we sure Balthazar’s not the one being re-educated now?” Cariel asked, only half-jokingly. “How have you heard all of this, anyway?”
“I know you don’t like Zachariah, but he is still my partner,” Barachiel pointed out. “And we’re still on good terms. Besides, he likes to brag, and I tend to let him. He’s actually taking credit for Balthazar’s behavior himself, by saying that he had ensured Castiel had received extra lessons in… oh. Leadership training. That was probably code for ‘I’m having Naomi re-educate him.’” Barachiel’s wings drooped. “Drat. I was trying to pay attention to whenever he was being too harsh, but that slipped right past me.”
Cariel snorted and shook his head. “He probably genuinely considered Naomi’s work as a good thing. This is Zachariah we’re talking about. That imbecile is a horrible kiss-arse. All he does these days is suck up to the Archangels. It’s not like Michael cares, anyway! It’s all Raphael, and he’s an absolute-”
As Cariel ranted, Barachiel stretched out his grace, spreading it in a bubble around them to cocoon them in safety. Cariel’s words couldn’t be overheard through the barrier of Barachiel’s grace.
“-moron when it really comes down to it! I don’t think he really knows the first thing about running Heaven, and for someone who’s forbidden us all from penetrating the veil, he’s far too focused on Earth to do a good job up here anyway. I suspect he’s deliberately weakening Gabriel’s bloodline. They’re down to just two potential vessels, did you know that? Just two, a brother and sister, and they are both corrupted by demons. I don’t think the brother can even hold Gabriel’s grace without dying, and the sister is barely any better. They’re witches, Barachiel. If Gabriel’s forced out of hiding and into one of them, he’s going to be absolutely screwed!”
Barachiel was watching Cariel solemnly. When Cariel finally took a breath, Barachiel fluttered his wings lightly. “Cariel? Please don’t take this the wrong way-I love you dearly, you know that-but why are you still here?”
“Pardon?”
“Here,” Barachiel repeated. “In Heaven. Why haven’t you left to find Gabriel?”
“The choir-what’s left of it-needs me,” Cariel said, the same response he gave himself whenever he wanted to leave.
But Barachiel was shaking his head even before Cariel had finished, his eyes sad. “They come to me,” he pointed out. “You’re the lowest of the Seraphim. You can’t help them. Raphael made sure of that. I managed to get myself promoted to second-class, and I know he’s actually considering to raise me back to first. Gabriel’s angels come to me when they need help.”
Cariel looked away from Barachiel. He had already known that and had actually encouraged it himself-Barachiel was re-earning trust from the Archangels, and as a second-class Seraph was actually capable of getting things done. He even had a fraction of immunity as Zachariah’s partner, as he was one of the few angels Zachariah actually seemed to like and didn’t try to sabotage simply to show off. No angel had approached Cariel for help in centuries. Even Balthazar and Castiel hadn’t come to Cariel. He had found them in need.
“What’s really keeping you here?” Barachiel asked quietly. “Why haven’t you followed Gabriel?”
“He told me not to,” Cariel whispered back. “His last order to me was to stay. He…” He touched my spirit, for the first time in centuries, and he asked me a favor, he gave me an order. I couldn’t… it was the last thing he ever said to me. The very last…
“You stayed for a thousand years.” Barachiel brushed his wings over Cariel’s back. “You endured Raphael and Zachariah and Naomi for a thousand years without him.”
“I have never disobeyed him. Not once.”
“I think he’d understand,” Barachiel pointed out. “He loved you too, Cariel. You were always his favorite. I think if he’d let any angel find him on Earth, it would be you.”
“Assuming he’s even still on Earth,” Cariel grumbled.
“Of course he’s still on Earth,” Barachiel answered. “We would have felt his grace-or anyone’s grace-escape. And he’s not dead. I can still feel him in my head.” He touched his fingers to his temple. “He’s blocked himself off from all of us, but he’s still there, still alive. We’d feel it if he were gone. He’s on Earth. He’s been alone on Earth, Cariel. I bet he’s seriously regretting making you promise to stay away. I bet he’s genuinely wishing you’d come back. An angel isn’t meant to be alone. If you were with him, neither of you would be alone. It would all work out.”
“Except for the bit where Raphael would drag me back to Heaven for an execution.” Cariel closed his eyes and ducked his head. “If an angel goes to Earth without the express permission of an Archangel, they are considered the enemy and killed.”
Who says you have to be an angel? Even shrouded in his grace, keeping their conversation private, Barachiel didn’t dare voice the treasonous thought aloud. Instead, he whispered it through their graces, slotting the words into Cariel’s mind.
Cariel turned his head to meet Barachiel’s gaze fully. The younger angel was nervous but firm in his conviction that this was the wisest avenue. Are you seriously suggesting that I fall?
You wouldn’t be the first since Earth was locked to us, Barachiel explained. We know what Raphael does to the angels who choose to fall.
He ignores them… The reasoning behind Barachiel’s suggestion was slowly growing clearer.
Because to fall is believed punishment enough. To lose your grace, your wings, your angelicness?
He would let me fall.
I think he’d even understand. Barachiel gave a little laugh. He may even wonder, as I do now, what took you so long!
“If he’s been trying to drive me out of Heaven,” Cariel muttered, “it has been working…” Over the past centuries, life in Heaven had grown worse for all angels, but it was practically unbearable for Cariel. Even Barachiel wasn’t suffering as much as Cariel. He had always assumed the feelings of persecution were simple paranoia, but now he was rethinking everything. But then I’d only have a human lifetime before I die.
So make sure you find Gabriel before then, Barachiel advised. He can make you immortal. Any Cherub can grant immortality. I’m sure Gabriel could do so without being caught.
I wouldn’t remember. How can I look for Gabriel if I don’t even remember him? Angels lost their memories when they tore out their grace and fell. Cariel knew this to be true. They only regained them after they died again, whether they returned to Heaven as human souls or fell again to Hell and became demons. At least, some double-fallen angels regained their memories. Cariel vaguely remembered the Knights of Hell seeming unaware of their angelic history, but Azazel certainly remembered who he had been, and rumor had it that Alastair also knew (but Alastair hadn’t stepped out of Hell since his second fall). If Cariel fell, and then fell again, as a demon he would both be immortal and have his memories of Gabriel. So long as he figured out how to keep them, at least. If that worked, he could then search for Gabriel without a time constraint, and Gabriel wouldn’t have any reason to hide from demons. He had even told Gabriel once, when they were talking about Azazel, that he would take the double-fall himself. Better to be a demon but at your side than an angel and forever separated.
Better to be a demon. If any angel realized these thoughts were in his mind, he might be executed on the spot for treason even without acting on them.
Try to direct your fall, Barachiel suggested. Point yourself at Gabriel’s female vessel, so you’re born into her family. Maybe he’ll be curious as to why an angel fell into his bloodline and come to investigate. I’m sure if he saw you, he’d help you remember. He wouldn’t leave you alone.
That’s a good idea. Cariel wasn’t about to tell even Barachiel about his own thoughts. Barachiel needed to stay innocent and trusted. He could say that he knew Cariel had planned to fall as a human, but at least this way, he wouldn’t be able to say anything about the second fall. He’d have to notice, right?
He’ll find you for sure.
Cariel took a deep breath, closing his hands into fists. “There’s still so much broken in Heaven…” He would need to repeat his plan over and over to himself, an unending mantra, for years in order to embed the necessary drives in him for when he was human. Become a demon. Find Gabriel. It would take time… but what was several years after a thousand apart? “I want to make it all right again.”
“You can’t,” Barachiel said. “Neither of us can. Change would have to come from the Archangels or from the entire Host. It won’t. All you can do, Cariel, is get out with your sanity.”
“What about you?” Cariel asked, looking to Barachiel.
Barachiel shrugged. “Someone needs to look after what’s left of the choir. And while I love Gabriel dearly and miss him every day, I was never in love with him. You go without me. I’ll be fine up here.”
“Barachiel…”
“Go,” Barachiel stressed. “When you find Gabriel, give him all of our love. But you need to go, Cariel.”
Cariel offered Barachiel the rest of the manna, smiling again at his little brother. “You take this, then. Give it to anyone you think needs it most.”
“I think you need it!” Barachiel protested, trying to push it back.
Cariel shook his head, still smiling. “I’m going to be with Gabriel again. I have everything I need.”
To be continued in Rogue
Notes: This is the sequel to A History of Heaven.
Chapter Rating: PG
Chapter word count: 2,608
Chapter Summary: The year is 1656, and Barachiel has come by for a visit with his big brother.
CHAPTER 6:
The Fall
“Knock knock!” Barachiel peered around the door of Cariel’s office, tapping lightly on the frame. “Are you busy?”
Cariel looked up from his model of the world, hastily trying to smooth out the crackling anger in his grace when he recognized his brother. “No, not really. Hello, Barachiel. What brings you here today?”
“I wasn’t busy either.” Barachiel carefully shut the door behind him as he stepped into Cariel’s office, a little frown forming as his eyes scanned over Cariel’s grace. “You’re looking stressed.” Cariel returned the comment with a flat look, and Barachiel dipped his head in assent. “As always,” he amended. “Cariel, when was the last time you left Heaven?”
“We’re not allowed to leave,” Cariel reminded his brother, pressing his hand over the virtual Earth to dismiss it.
“Not go to Earth,” Barachiel shook his head. “Just out to the Borderlands. We’re allowed there.”
“But why would I bother?” Cariel asked. “There’s nothing there.”
“Precisely.” Barachiel linked his hands together behind his back and smiled sweetly at Cariel. “No Archangels.”
Cariel held Barachiel’s gaze for a moment before he was shoving his chair back, unable to get to his feet fast enough. Barachiel laughed and held out his hand for Cariel, and the two leapt off toward the gates of Heaven together.
Once the two Seraphim had passed through the western gate, the oppressive weight of Heaven fell away from their wings. Cariel surged forward, flying as hard and fast as he could just because he could. Barachiel kept pace shortly behind him, his wings fully healed now, as rich and full as they had been before the Nephilim had cut them from his back.
Far from Heaven, Cariel finally stopped flying, spreading his wings and letting himself drift in the grey blankness of the Borderlands. He could feel some of his brothers out even further away, Raphael’s warriors patrolling, and knew they were safe here. There were monsters that lived in this empty space, but Raphael was good about beating them back to the very edges of the universe.
Barachiel curved in beside Cariel and threaded his wings through his brother’s to keep them together as they floated in the empty space. He stroked his grace against Cariel’s, and Cariel smiled for the first time in years. “Thank you, Barachiel,” he murmured. “I needed this.”
“I figured as much.” Barachiel dipped his hand into his grace, rummaging around until he pulled out a little package. “I actually brought something for you.” He offered it to Cariel.
Cariel accepted the package curiously, pulling open the wrapping to reveal… “Manna! I didn’t think,” he trailed off, narrowing his eyes at Barachiel. “This is stolen.” The Archangels used to offer manna at their weekly meetings with the Seraphim, or as gifts and blessings to injured angels or angels who had performed their duties well, but they had stopped that long ago, around the time Gabriel had left. What used to be a common reassurance of hope and the love of God had all but vanished overnight, doled out very sparingly only to the most injured angels. There was no way the uninjured Barachiel could have legally gotten his hands on any.
“Of course it is,” Barachiel answered with a cheeky smile. “Raphael certainly hasn’t been spreading it around.”
“You stole manna from Raphael!?”
“I stole nothing!” Barachiel pressed his hand against his chest in mock offense. “I really didn’t. It’s actually from Balthazar. He asked me to give it to you.”
“Balthazar?” Cariel frowned, unable to resist the temptation of the manna any longer and taking a piece for himself. The flavor of the bread burst across his tongue, a rush of warmth and security washing through his grace. He felt wrapped in Gabriel’s wings again, the furnace of his Archangel’s ever-burning core pressed tight against his own. He felt safe and cherished and valued, and he felt good again.
When he opened his eyes (and when had he closed them?), he found Barachiel smiling knowingly at him. Manna had never been so strong before… but then again, Heaven had never been so desolate before. Cariel held out the package, offering the bread to Barachiel so his brother could take a piece for himself.
Barachiel barely hesitated at all before accepting the gift. Their craving for the feelings invoked by the manna far outweighed the politeness of taking some of a brother’s present. Cariel watched Barachiel taste the rare bread, his wings giving a little shiver of joy as he savored the treat. “Good?”
“I’d forgotten…” Barachiel sighed, leaning over to rest his head against Cariel’s shoulder. “Balthazar must have genuinely been grateful to give this up. He’s not exactly the most selfless of angels.”
“Did he say why?” Cariel asked, pinching another piece of the manna, holding in his mouth as long as he could.
“He said it’s been two hundred years since Castiel was taken, and he thinks it’s over?” Barachiel shrugged. “He said he thought you’d understand.”
“Ah…” Marmoniel had been successful, then. Cariel had wondered, but he hadn’t been able to manufacture an excuse to find any of Anael’s angels to ask them how Castiel was. “Naomi had been torturing Castiel. I asked Marmoniel to stop her. I didn’t think she actually had.”
“The saddest part of that,” Barachiel murmured, “is that I’m not at all surprised to hear an angel’s been tortured by another. That’s practically normal now.”
Cariel looped his arm around Barachiel’s back, hating that his brother was right.
Barachiel sighed. “From what I’ve heard, Balthazar really is grateful. Aside from… well, this,” the Seraph gestured at the manna, “he hasn’t really acted up in well over a century. Zachariah thinks it’s Castiel’s good influence. Zachariah thinks Castiel is a good influence!”
“Are we sure Balthazar’s not the one being re-educated now?” Cariel asked, only half-jokingly. “How have you heard all of this, anyway?”
“I know you don’t like Zachariah, but he is still my partner,” Barachiel pointed out. “And we’re still on good terms. Besides, he likes to brag, and I tend to let him. He’s actually taking credit for Balthazar’s behavior himself, by saying that he had ensured Castiel had received extra lessons in… oh. Leadership training. That was probably code for ‘I’m having Naomi re-educate him.’” Barachiel’s wings drooped. “Drat. I was trying to pay attention to whenever he was being too harsh, but that slipped right past me.”
Cariel snorted and shook his head. “He probably genuinely considered Naomi’s work as a good thing. This is Zachariah we’re talking about. That imbecile is a horrible kiss-arse. All he does these days is suck up to the Archangels. It’s not like Michael cares, anyway! It’s all Raphael, and he’s an absolute-”
As Cariel ranted, Barachiel stretched out his grace, spreading it in a bubble around them to cocoon them in safety. Cariel’s words couldn’t be overheard through the barrier of Barachiel’s grace.
“-moron when it really comes down to it! I don’t think he really knows the first thing about running Heaven, and for someone who’s forbidden us all from penetrating the veil, he’s far too focused on Earth to do a good job up here anyway. I suspect he’s deliberately weakening Gabriel’s bloodline. They’re down to just two potential vessels, did you know that? Just two, a brother and sister, and they are both corrupted by demons. I don’t think the brother can even hold Gabriel’s grace without dying, and the sister is barely any better. They’re witches, Barachiel. If Gabriel’s forced out of hiding and into one of them, he’s going to be absolutely screwed!”
Barachiel was watching Cariel solemnly. When Cariel finally took a breath, Barachiel fluttered his wings lightly. “Cariel? Please don’t take this the wrong way-I love you dearly, you know that-but why are you still here?”
“Pardon?”
“Here,” Barachiel repeated. “In Heaven. Why haven’t you left to find Gabriel?”
“The choir-what’s left of it-needs me,” Cariel said, the same response he gave himself whenever he wanted to leave.
But Barachiel was shaking his head even before Cariel had finished, his eyes sad. “They come to me,” he pointed out. “You’re the lowest of the Seraphim. You can’t help them. Raphael made sure of that. I managed to get myself promoted to second-class, and I know he’s actually considering to raise me back to first. Gabriel’s angels come to me when they need help.”
Cariel looked away from Barachiel. He had already known that and had actually encouraged it himself-Barachiel was re-earning trust from the Archangels, and as a second-class Seraph was actually capable of getting things done. He even had a fraction of immunity as Zachariah’s partner, as he was one of the few angels Zachariah actually seemed to like and didn’t try to sabotage simply to show off. No angel had approached Cariel for help in centuries. Even Balthazar and Castiel hadn’t come to Cariel. He had found them in need.
“What’s really keeping you here?” Barachiel asked quietly. “Why haven’t you followed Gabriel?”
“He told me not to,” Cariel whispered back. “His last order to me was to stay. He…” He touched my spirit, for the first time in centuries, and he asked me a favor, he gave me an order. I couldn’t… it was the last thing he ever said to me. The very last…
“You stayed for a thousand years.” Barachiel brushed his wings over Cariel’s back. “You endured Raphael and Zachariah and Naomi for a thousand years without him.”
“I have never disobeyed him. Not once.”
“I think he’d understand,” Barachiel pointed out. “He loved you too, Cariel. You were always his favorite. I think if he’d let any angel find him on Earth, it would be you.”
“Assuming he’s even still on Earth,” Cariel grumbled.
“Of course he’s still on Earth,” Barachiel answered. “We would have felt his grace-or anyone’s grace-escape. And he’s not dead. I can still feel him in my head.” He touched his fingers to his temple. “He’s blocked himself off from all of us, but he’s still there, still alive. We’d feel it if he were gone. He’s on Earth. He’s been alone on Earth, Cariel. I bet he’s seriously regretting making you promise to stay away. I bet he’s genuinely wishing you’d come back. An angel isn’t meant to be alone. If you were with him, neither of you would be alone. It would all work out.”
“Except for the bit where Raphael would drag me back to Heaven for an execution.” Cariel closed his eyes and ducked his head. “If an angel goes to Earth without the express permission of an Archangel, they are considered the enemy and killed.”
Who says you have to be an angel? Even shrouded in his grace, keeping their conversation private, Barachiel didn’t dare voice the treasonous thought aloud. Instead, he whispered it through their graces, slotting the words into Cariel’s mind.
Cariel turned his head to meet Barachiel’s gaze fully. The younger angel was nervous but firm in his conviction that this was the wisest avenue. Are you seriously suggesting that I fall?
You wouldn’t be the first since Earth was locked to us, Barachiel explained. We know what Raphael does to the angels who choose to fall.
He ignores them… The reasoning behind Barachiel’s suggestion was slowly growing clearer.
Because to fall is believed punishment enough. To lose your grace, your wings, your angelicness?
He would let me fall.
I think he’d even understand. Barachiel gave a little laugh. He may even wonder, as I do now, what took you so long!
“If he’s been trying to drive me out of Heaven,” Cariel muttered, “it has been working…” Over the past centuries, life in Heaven had grown worse for all angels, but it was practically unbearable for Cariel. Even Barachiel wasn’t suffering as much as Cariel. He had always assumed the feelings of persecution were simple paranoia, but now he was rethinking everything. But then I’d only have a human lifetime before I die.
So make sure you find Gabriel before then, Barachiel advised. He can make you immortal. Any Cherub can grant immortality. I’m sure Gabriel could do so without being caught.
I wouldn’t remember. How can I look for Gabriel if I don’t even remember him? Angels lost their memories when they tore out their grace and fell. Cariel knew this to be true. They only regained them after they died again, whether they returned to Heaven as human souls or fell again to Hell and became demons. At least, some double-fallen angels regained their memories. Cariel vaguely remembered the Knights of Hell seeming unaware of their angelic history, but Azazel certainly remembered who he had been, and rumor had it that Alastair also knew (but Alastair hadn’t stepped out of Hell since his second fall). If Cariel fell, and then fell again, as a demon he would both be immortal and have his memories of Gabriel. So long as he figured out how to keep them, at least. If that worked, he could then search for Gabriel without a time constraint, and Gabriel wouldn’t have any reason to hide from demons. He had even told Gabriel once, when they were talking about Azazel, that he would take the double-fall himself. Better to be a demon but at your side than an angel and forever separated.
Better to be a demon. If any angel realized these thoughts were in his mind, he might be executed on the spot for treason even without acting on them.
Try to direct your fall, Barachiel suggested. Point yourself at Gabriel’s female vessel, so you’re born into her family. Maybe he’ll be curious as to why an angel fell into his bloodline and come to investigate. I’m sure if he saw you, he’d help you remember. He wouldn’t leave you alone.
That’s a good idea. Cariel wasn’t about to tell even Barachiel about his own thoughts. Barachiel needed to stay innocent and trusted. He could say that he knew Cariel had planned to fall as a human, but at least this way, he wouldn’t be able to say anything about the second fall. He’d have to notice, right?
He’ll find you for sure.
Cariel took a deep breath, closing his hands into fists. “There’s still so much broken in Heaven…” He would need to repeat his plan over and over to himself, an unending mantra, for years in order to embed the necessary drives in him for when he was human. Become a demon. Find Gabriel. It would take time… but what was several years after a thousand apart? “I want to make it all right again.”
“You can’t,” Barachiel said. “Neither of us can. Change would have to come from the Archangels or from the entire Host. It won’t. All you can do, Cariel, is get out with your sanity.”
“What about you?” Cariel asked, looking to Barachiel.
Barachiel shrugged. “Someone needs to look after what’s left of the choir. And while I love Gabriel dearly and miss him every day, I was never in love with him. You go without me. I’ll be fine up here.”
“Barachiel…”
“Go,” Barachiel stressed. “When you find Gabriel, give him all of our love. But you need to go, Cariel.”
Cariel offered Barachiel the rest of the manna, smiling again at his little brother. “You take this, then. Give it to anyone you think needs it most.”
“I think you need it!” Barachiel protested, trying to push it back.
Cariel shook his head, still smiling. “I’m going to be with Gabriel again. I have everything I need.”
To be continued in Rogue