Pride: A Seven Deadly Sins Challenge

by neurofeces

Pride n.feeling of superiority: a haughty attitude shown by people who believe, often unjustifiably, that they are better than others proper sense of own value. Lafayel Past Story

Hello again. (at least I assume if you're in this fandom you've run into my works before--if not, then welcome and thank you very much for kindly deigning to waste your time with me.)

If you are not yet familiar with the seven deadly sins series, then here's a bit of info for you: Kasumi Sora and I got together on Livejournal once upon a time, and split the seven sins between us, challenging eachother. I took four sins (sloth, pride, wrath, gluttony) and she took the other three. (lust, envy, and greed) So far, I've completed one, and poor KS-sama's been working like a dog at her drabbles. Pride is the second of my four. It's also the only one so far that actually has stronger ties to my epic fics--though only I know that at this point. It still can stand alone, though, or be seen as a minor supplement later on once more of my epics come out. You don't need to read the tons of writing in both epics to know what I'm talking about in this fic, nor will you ever need to.

Each of my "sin" fics are designed to be one shots under thirty pages (if you've seen my other updates, you know I actually need that limitation. Control has 50 page long updates) So far, of the three I've been working on, all of them seem to have at least some element of past-storyline to them, which is probably just a coincidence, but still interesting. "Sloth" was a look at the Itsuki twins. "Pride" on the other hand, takes the viewpoint of Lafayel and his relationship to Israfel (or at least my interpretation of it) as well as a possibility of what might have happened in his little book five scene. Like many of my fics dealing with minor characters, it has very little canon basis to run off, so much of it is improvised from my own head--so I expect some readers might disagree as to my ideas. (For those that don't, thank you, and I'd be delighted if you'd swell my ego by praising me senselessly.) If someone consequently reviewed and told me their own take on this character and told me to stick my story somewhere unpleasant, I would be honestly delighted because it would broaden my understanding of my audience and might lead to breakthroughs that are more palatable in future fics.

A few small warnings though:

if you read this fic: Know your third and fifth juvenile orion book well before you start tirading at me, please? I've looked over everything at least a dozen times, so everything SHOULD follow through unless you're the most diehard Porn-without-plot yaoi fan. Otherwise, rant at will upon completing the fic, and please enjoy it within the duration of your reading nonetheless.

Something tells me this will end with fire...hmm...

-o-O-o-

Pride n.--feeling of superiority: a haughty attitude shown by people who believe, often unjustifiably, that they are better than others; proper sense of own value: the correct level of respect for the importance and value of your personal character, life, efforts, or achievements. Synonyms: arrogance, conceit, smugness, self-importance, egotism, vanity, immodesty, superiority; self-respect, dignity, self-esteem, honor

---

"It is time that I wrote my will;

I choose upstanding men

That climb the streams until

The fountain leap, and at dawn

Drop their cast at the side

Of dripping stone; I declare

They shall inherit my pride."

-W.B. Yeats, "The Tower"

-o-O-o-

He looked deceptively young--the angel Israfel. His face was smooth and unlined in his scant moments of sleep, his golden hair spilling long and careless around him. Even in chains with his three wings shivering in some nightmarish dream, he seemed far younger than he should have, far different than he'd once been, not a warrior, hardly a creature of pride, but instead...

Ah, who knew what he really was? It was impossible to call him an angel in a corporeal form--corporeal form could only dim, only cause the once-infinite to cling to a paltry human standard of beauty. But perhaps he looked like a human vision of an angel--pure and spotless and pristine.

Any other creature, possessing any amount of sense, who had been around Israfel for any measure of time however, knew he claimed nonetheless to be covered in blood. Blood only a mad creature could see and cry out from.

A mad angel then--if such a thing could exist. There was no insanity plea for sin.

The cause of his sudden change had been wondered on for long years after the incident. Beneath the modified robe there was still a fresh scar from the loss of one of his wings, a wound no healing touch seemed capable of healing--even Gabriel's fingers couldn't heal the mark away. If only Raphael had still been alive...perhaps he might have done better, but his replacement could only do so much, and even then, most of heaven believed the angel Israfel to be dead. And of course, even Raphael couldn't make a wing re-root and grow there once more. It was all but impossible that one such as he could have survived the loss of a wing--he seemed at the outside glance to be the type to die from shock instead. Israfel was slight of build and seemed to like to make himself seem diminutive for all his bold speech. He seemed the type to be nothing but talk, nothing but simple defiance--otherwise passive and frail…but no, he lived, mad though he obviously was.

No, it wouldn't do to leak out the secret knowledge--the angel Israfel was alive, and was being questioned, and tortured, and demanded information of--ever tormented, ever asked the one question Azrael couldn't seem to understand: Why?

He was strong enough to survive…strong enough to betray…but that didn't explain his reasoning anymore than madness did. Madness seemed a perfectly reasonable explanation for most things Israfel did, but simply because an explanation was reasonable didn't mean it was satisfying.

Why bother to use that strength to be unique?

Even his curling onto his side to rest was odd to a species that balanced using the same appendages that he'd lost... Israfel was unique. Israfel was heretical. Israfel was a mystery--and he kept himself that way in all the more of his strange apparent-defiance.

Israfel, the angel of judgment day, the angel of resurrection. A cursed creature. A contradiction. A damned and yet sacred being. Individual in his contradictions of weakness and power.

But individuality was a curse to any angel. Especially when it came to heretical terms…

And Lafayel would have rather been anywhere else at the moment.

Lafayel allowed the door to slide shut behind him knowing that the sound would probably cause him to stir. He needed Israfel awake no matter how much he resented him…no matter much he hated this sort of task, this personal face to face aspect of true interrogation. He'd rather be insulated away from Israfel, confronting him only by means of cold metal and unfeeling objects…

Israfel started awake, his eyes instantly open and on the intruder into his cell. Those eyes were too large, mirror-silver, and quick. Israfel quickly pulled himself into a sitting position and backed away, fear written in his eyes.

He didn't look mad...that was the trouble. If only he looked insane, or looked damned, THEN… But no, he looked scared and sacred both--even when he was afraid he seemed to bear an aspect as though anything that touched him would somehow spoil the perfect pristine whiteness and innocence of his soul--If an angel HAD a soul...

As though someone like Israfel could pretend to be pure...

"What do you want? I already told you I don't know anything!" His voice was frenzied, animalistic fear all but seeping off of him.

"Ah, so this is the angel Israfel. The famed mystery… The one creature who broke free from our dear lord Azrael and still spites him with the curse of his very existence..." Lafayel said softly, dully, tucking his black wings behind him, keeping his voice bland and bitter. Israfel seemed to calm strangely enough, though the sight of the creature given reign of the torture over him should have, if anything inspired all the more rage and fear and panic in him. Israfel only seemed to become more relaxed and composed despite it all, his mismatched wings folding behind him as well. He actually gave a faint smile. "Oh...Lafayel. It's been a while."

Lafayel didn't smile in return. He didn't need that reminder…he didn't need to remember ANYTHING that had to do with Israfel. "I don't know what you're talking about. You must be mistaken for someone else." He kept his voice clipped and turned his head away to not look at the angel. How dimwitted could he be? Was it possible he didn't know the power Lafayel had over him now? That he had gone far beyond the sparring partner of ages past, far beyond the once-servant he'd been? If Lafayel had known the human phrase "the shoe is on the other foot now" he certainly would have applied the phrase to the situation seamlessly and with great relish.

"You don't remember me?" Israfel asked, sounding--if anything--faintly hurt. Lafayel grimaced. "It's impossible for anyone not to remember you…" He almost growled the sentence under his breath. "Don't you address me as an equal or an underling. Times have changed."

Israfel only sighed in response, wings drooping faintly. "I'm sorry about what happened before, I really am, Lafayel-" Lafayel cut him off sharply. "I told you, you're thinking of someone else!" He glared at Israfel finally. Israfel's wings lowered, eyebrows lifting in an expression of surprise. "Don't be stupid, Lafayel..." He said it softly, and not cruelly at all, but it didn't stop the edge of anger from surging in Lafayel who turned to face him fully with a jerk, wings flaring. "I'm NOT stupid, Israfel. You'd best watch that tongue of yours, especially now!" The nephil snapped in return. Israfel sighed, unruffled by the outburst.

He was rage-inducing, Israfel was. Always had been--to Lafayel at least.

"I was worried about this...You're still angry about that, then? I told you it was an accident." Israfel said softly. His expression had faintly creased at the brows. He looked sympathetic. It didn't fool Lafayel for a moment. Israfel could play the saint while burning in hellfire. He was a master of serene masks, of holy shrouds and veils to cover his inner rot… "I said you're thinking of someone else." Lafayel replied a little more heatedly, more vehemently. He was getting irritated by this. He really wished he was someplace else…

Israfel smiled faintly as though it was a joke. "In that case you can tell the other Lafayel that it was an accident, and I apologize-" Lafayel felt his wings flare and his voice raised all the more. "Shut up! This isn't about you or me, Israfel!" Israfel only gazed at him mildly, unruffled. That only irritated Lafayel all the more. "How did you do it? Tell me, Israfel. Or you and I could be here a very long time as we go back to attempting to beat it out of you." Israfel paled, but said nothing. "How did you do it?" Lafayel hissed again. Israfel blinked at him. "Do what?" He asked, shifting gingerly. Lafayel felt his anger surge higher--he was toying with him!

"You know what! Damn you Israfel, just tell me! How did you do it? How did you break free from Lord Azrael?" Israfel's wings lowered faintly. His smile became somehow darker. "Ah...Lord Azrael put you up to this...and...gave you position over me to get the information from me? ...Amazing...so he really is that worried by it..."

"Stop changing the subject Israfel, as much as I would enjoy beating you to death with my bare hands, I hold back due to the consequences of my kind striking even a disgraced high angel like yourself. I want to get this over with and forget you ever existed." Lafayel was inwardly proud of how level he'd been able to keep his voice.

Israfel, the one angel in all of existence who could enrage him, and Azrael had commanded HIM to go speak with him! How he HATED him…this angel who had humiliated him so long ago with an unhealable wound…

"Does he say I did it to spite him? Or out of cruelty? Or perhaps I made a bargain with the demons and sold the soul I don't have?" Israfel's expression was grim now, his voice filled with bitterness that nearly rivaled Lafayel's though his was nowhere NEAR as sharp...

"Doesn't he know already that I don't have the heart for any form of malice to him...even when I wish I did?" He said it softly, fingering the chains on his wings. Lafayel trimmed his wings back, eyes narrowing. "Don't presume to know Lord Azrael's thoughts, Israfel. Or I will harm you. None can fathom the holy wisdom of a prince appointed by God himself. Not even you in all your little delusions."

"Delusions? Is that the new word for unwanted visions?" Israfel seemed amused, his velvet voice creeping into a lilt with his bitter and yet somehow timid smile. "I wonder if Azrael really is so jealous of my visions...he could have them if I could give them away, since he seems to desperate for a view of heaven again, even if it is in the distant future..." Lafayel gripped his wrist behind his back. "Be careful with your words, Israfel. As ever you walk the line of heresy. It is certainly not your place to mock Prince Azrael, and the powers the Father deigns you are hardly yours to waste."

"Then He can give them to someone else--after all, I trust He can if nobody else is able." Lafayel twitched, strode forward and slapped Israfel sharply. He could deal with his own anger, he could deal with the flippant disrespect to Azrael's wishes…but he would NOT allow Israfel to be flippant with the attributes of God. Lafayel's wings trembled despite himself. He half expected holy fire to blaze through the room and consume Israfel for his razor's edge blasphemy…

The other angel's head barely even turned with the blow Lafayel dealt him, despite the livid mark that grew on his cheek. His silver eyes still gazed at Lafayel, bewildered, and innocent, blinking in stunned surprise. Lafayel fought the urge to shiver at the gaze, already uneasy by being in the same room as a creature who would use such flippant terms for a deity. "I warned you to be careful of your words, and you respond with outright disdain for God...You clearly have a death wish. Were it up to me, I would slay you here and now…"

Lafayel struggled to maintain his composure. No! High angels were composed and dignified, even in their punishments or possible cruelties…to lose his temper would be a nephil trait…

Israfel's eyes narrowed. "Azrael's given you power to torment but not kill me? ...Why?" Lafayel raised his hand again despite himself, before he checked himself forcing the arm back down. He would NOT be just another nephil! He didn't belong to that lesser race!

Israfel only stared at him, unflinching, unruffled by Lafayel's struggle. "You want to strike me? You want to kill me? Then be my guest. I hate this form, I hate these bloodstained wings, these gore-caked hands, this demon in my heart which spurs me on for blood free of my own will--that force of Death which I can't escape..." Israfel's mouth down-turned sharply, continuing. "You're following his orders… Are you sure he doesn't want me dead as well? Azrael certainly seems angry enough with me..." Israfel spread his wings and his hands upward in almost a shrug while his entire face saddened and smoothed over before shifting into an expression of pain. "It seems we all want the same thing, so why not kill me?" He asked softly, staring at the ground. The mismatched third wing hunched around his shoulders, cupping around one of his smaller pair of wings.

Lafayel's hand clenched into a fist with a clicking sound. He forced it down at his side, taking a step backward despite himself. "Don't you dare equate me with yourself, Israfel. We couldn't be more different." He spat out the words as though they were poison

Israfel only inclined his head and sighed, putting down his wings and his arms both, slouching forward almost sulkily. "No, Lafayel. What you don't realize is how very similar we are...Only one thing separates me from you." The angel raised one slender hand pointing upwards with a single finger, silver eyes boring into Lafayel's own pale ice-blue eyes. "One thing, and that is all. And it isn't Heaven or Hell, your race or mine, rank, station, or a thousand other meaningless things you think matter in this loveless mockery of Heaven." Lafayel raised his hand to strike him again, but Israfel snatched his hand sharply. His grip was surprisingly strong for one as supposedly weak as he was. Lafayel instantly realized his mistake and paled, attempting to pull his arm away. Israfel clenched it harder. Lafayel's wings flattened agitatedly. He HAD to be able to feel what was beneath the gloves…

Israfel however, seemed to pretend not to notice at all, or at least he didn't mention it if it jolted him and he happened to remember Lafayel's condition. "If you don't even have will to turn aside my words except with force, and halfhearted force at that, how do you ever think you'd manage to kill me?" Israfel hissed. "And as for that one curse, that one blessing both Lafayel. Do you know what it is?" Lafayel made to pull his hand away again, unnerved. "Let go of me!" He whispered in a hiss. Israfel's eyes seemed to bore into him. Now he was the one who was terrified of being dirtied. There was something sinister about those eyes...

"That one thing, Lafayel. What is it? Do you not know?"

"Let me go!" He finally managed to wrench his hand free. Now he was the terrified one, the one who was backing away from the chained angel as he rose and stood, metal clinking in the chains as he did so. "S-stay away from me!" For once Lafayel was grateful that Israfel was chained back…

"Pride, Lafayel." Israel whispered, a sad smile on his face. "Or perhaps dignity. Call it what you will. Even I'm unsure whether its sin or salvation, but I do know that I have a will. And perhaps that means I have a soul, and perhaps, yes, even the ability to lose it...perhaps that is why I am different… And perhaps that is why I am free, and you are still a puppet who only wants to cut his own strings."

"S-shut up!" Lafayel whispered hoarsely. "I'm nobody's puppet!" Lafayel hissed once more, wings hunching in horror, in indignation. "Why can I see then how much you want to escape?" Israfel asked simply, that irritating, superior, saintly, sympathetic smile to his lips once more. "Why can I see that inside you're nothing? Why can I see how empty you are if you are not simply a puppet? If nothing held you up, you would collapse under your own weight." Israfel's eyes suddenly narrowed as he stared at him intently. "Poor thing." He whispered finally, looking down at the ground, lips unsmiling, wings weary.

His appearance of pity, of that implied superiority angered Lafayel further, but he was too worried of what Israfel might do to actually lay a finger on him to stop or silence him. Israfel spoke again after a few moments of pause. "I know my own worth. Even if it isn't much. But you...You think you're worthless, and because of that you'll always be a puppet even if you have the strength to free yourself--Even if you have the will, even if you have the soul, you have no confidence, Lafayel."

"SHUT UP!" Lafayel screamed. "Like you would know! Look at you now, a deformed ugly heartless angel! You can't possibly be worth more than me! You're a liar!" Israfel sighed faintly, wearily and turned around, walking back, putting his hands upon the chains binding him. He gripped them, head facing downward. Lafayel's wings flared again and he clenched a fist, rubbing his wrist still to remove the memory of Israfel's grip, the reminder...

"I said you're a liar." He said again, his voice soft and livid. Israfel said nothing. "You're a liar and a coward!" Lafayel said louder, desperate to provoke him, desperate for…for SOMETHING to happen!

Israfel turned slowly, his words likewise slow, but somehow cold nonetheless. "Am I? A coward because I won't kill? Because I won't be the hand which destroys my God's creation? A coward because I defy all those over me to do what is RIGHT?" His eyes narrowed. "A liar because I tell you plainly what I believe? Who's the coward, Lafayel?" Lafayel's body shook with anger. "Shut up...SHUT UP!"

"The one sin I will confess to is Pride. Pride for holding my beliefs over all others...but...if I am right...isn't that worth the risk?"

"SHUT UP!" Lafayel screamed louder, finally pressing his hands to his ears. Israfel's eyes narrowed. "If you're just going to shout at me, then go back to Azrael and tell him everything I've said!" He finally snapped back. "I don't care what you want, what he wants, what anyone but God Himself asks of me! If it's wrong I won't have any part in it, and I don't care who comes to me to try to persuade me otherwise!" He gave Lafayel a look of pure disgust. "And at any rate, I'm hardly going to be convinced by a screaming puppet… Go away, Lafayel."

Lafayel's eyes widened in disbelief. "How...How dare you call me useless!" He whispered, pale despite his attempt at a scowl of rage.

Israfel turned to him again, face softening slightly. "Calm down." He said with an air of patience and serenity. "I didn't call you useless, Lafayel. I'm hardly what determines your worth anyway. Even Azrael can't do THAT... But perhaps if you didn't think you were worthless in the first place, whatever I said to you wouldn't affect you so...after all, I'm just a pride-filled heretic, right? An angel of useless and paltry judgments..." Israfel's smile was faint and bitter. "You think I'm a liar anyway, so why does it bother you what I say?"

"I...I won't let you blaspheme...I won't let you..." Lafayel's words didn't seem to want to obey him. He sounded childish, useless, and filled with emotional anger, and he wasn't--he was just so...ANGRY... Israfel looked at him for a long moment, then smiled that mad, holy smile. "Then don't let me." He said simply. "Free yourself." Lafayel ran from him, the doors shutting behind him, fleeing that heretic tongue, that mad switch from sudden anger to holiness that only a high angel could achieve in its utmost lying air of righteous hypocrisy. All he could see was his own anger and his own fear. He wanted his protection back, his protection from Israfel's words, his power over him at the hands of remorseless chains and shackles.

He needed to WIN...somehow he needed to win…

He panted as he entered the control room, anger surging through him, terror beating in his ears as he pushed away at the mental echoes of that heretical, rage inspiring, velvet voice. He ran into the room with stumbling desperation, shut the doors behind him, and twisted knobs with an air of feverish desperation, uncontented until the chains tightened around Israfel's wings, suspending the angel, making him cry out, uncontented until blood flowed from the angel, uncontented until that blasphemous voice grew hoarse from screaming…

Lafayel gazed down, coldly observing the sudden limpness of the suspended angel, his harsh breathing starting to still, his wings beginning to stop trembling finally.

Israfel was powerless now…Israfel didn't know ANYTHING!

He was defenseless and unconscious, that pristine whiteness spattered with blood. Lafayel glanced down at his own black gloves compulsively, clenching his fist. His hands…HIS hands were even clean compared to Israfel's now…But he deserved it--always going on about his bloodstained hands when they weren't…he might as well actually have something to complain about!

Lafayel toyed with the thought of not letting him down, with allowing the unconscious angel to suffocate, unable to pull himself up to breathe, he toyed with the idea of silencing him forever...

How he would like dearly to silence that sinfully rich voice forever…

His fingers rested upon the gleaming controls. It would be so easy…So easy to simply make him vanish forever…to let God deal with him…

Lafayel flinched as that thought passed through his head. He mentally cringed. How dare he use his Creator as a tool, even in his thoughts--as though that was any better than really committing the sin of blasphemy!

Lafayel's hands trembled faintly on the controls. Israfel's face was turning blue…

No...Azrael would know...Azrael would be angry.

Lafayel hesitated for a moment, then released the chains. Israfel's limp form crashed to the ground in a tumble of wings and bloodstained robes. Israfel moaned, holding his bruised throat, hunching his wounded wings, weakly pulling himself to his elbows, ragged blond hair falling in streams over his face as he gasped for air, brought back to consciousness by the pain of the drop. His silver eyes were glazed over in pain, and yet somehow managed to stare right into the blank space in the wall where the observatory lay hidden, staring right at Lafayel with something like sad betrayal in his mirror-silver eyes.

Lafayel turned his head away and left Israfel's wounded gaze without an audience, the door clicking behind him with a satisfying locking noise.

He wouldn't let the words of a heretic get to him--what could Israfel possibly see that he didn't? He was favored by Azrael himself!

What could a mad angel know anyway? It wasn't as though anyone would save him. He was as doomed as he, Lafayel, was...just in a more noticeable and...physical way.

Nothing would ever change that.

His books clicked rhythmically on the floor as he strode away from Israfel and towards his master, Azrael to inform the Angel of Israfel's words, and the need for a healer.

Lafayel pulled at the gloves on his fingertips. Bloodless, sterile…They were cleaner than Israfel's hands at least…but still…He knew nothing would ever change his race…

Lafayel grimaced.

He might not be a puppet, but he would always be a slave. Nothing could free him from that or change it.

-o-O-o- Intermezzo -o-O-o-

Him.

HIM.

He stood over him once more. Nothing had ever changed! It was Israfel! Israfel! On earth! Playing the saint even as a fallen angel! Still holy-smiling, still wreathed with his crown pair of white-feathered wings…

Lafayel's lip curled.

Even without the stream of long hair…at first he hadn't recognized him, but NOW…it was so painfully obvious that it brought fresh loathing into him.

Israfel…on Earth, bold as you please…

He was protecting a human, he was mindbroken by another human--much as Lafayel was, though Lafayel's mind would never let him dwell on any possibility if hypocrisy in this. That smug smile hadn't changed. His words of pacifism hadn't changed even as flames roared around another's body. Hypocrite...he and his PRIDE...

How he remembered now… (How difficult it had been to even find out what the truth was anyway with all the rumors circulating...)

To think that against all odds, Gabriel had escaped and managed to save Israfel from a life of torture. (If there was anyone anywhere even possibly worse for hypocrisy than Israfel it was probably Gabriel...The coward...) To think Israfel had survived losing a wing the second time through as he had pulled it away from himself--JUST when Azrael was beginning to get somewhere with him.

To think he, Lafayel had fallen...no matter the means--THAT he still didn't want to think about. That he still managed to keep from the human presence controlling his brain, playing him just like the puppet he had sworn he wasn't. Israfel had to be barely containing his laughter over there...

Of all chances that he would be seen like this…

Of all the chances--and those were much higher--that he would be defeated by Israfel…

Of course…Gabriel had spared him the crippling of his powers. If only he'd realized that earlier…Too late now, the girl had sent him out to die anyway. He was nothing to her, just another game. Either way she won--on one hand Kaoru succeeded and kept her precious "doll" on the other, she would end it all…

Lafayel was simply a piece…Whether he died or not was irrelevant, only so long as his master kept her precious stakes…

She was indifferent…and she was absolute. He was trapped. He was doomed.

Curse Israfel for damning him with his words so long ago…The damned heretical prophet...

Lafayel drew his breath in sharply, huddling beneath his tattered cloak, trying to keep any shred of a cry from escaping his lips as he tried to rest upon a part of him that wasn't burnt and searing with pain. There were footsteps. He failed finally as he leaned on a stone, digging it between the battered scales on his arm. He smelled like burnt hair, singed feathers, the scales breaking his skin hadn't even helped protect him, several had seemed to melt like glass, and now held on to his agonized skin...only a flash of heat then...he would likely recover, despite scarring, he would likely still be able to feel...

But for what purpose? To serve a girl who stabbed him, who sent him to die like this in a worthless, meaningless battle all to satisfy her urge to steal a friend? It was pathetic. He had no interest in it at all...only that he wouldn't end up dying.

If Israfel was against him, he would die. No matter how much he didn't want to admit it, it was true: Israfel was stronger than him. MUCH stronger. No matter his own gifts, Israfel would kill him, no matter the fact that his soul was projected at his master's side, Israfel would tear both to pieces.

He'd never defeat the angel the way he was now, and Israfel had escaped those particular forms of limitation thanks to that fool Gabriel... And who knew where he was. Not that he'd be ready to show a nephil any mercy or interest... Gabriel hated the nephilim--and he always had.

Even at his full strength, he was no match for the angel when he actually went on the offensive--rare though it was. Israfel was mindbroken, and thus, Lafayel was out of options.

He was a trapped, singed, little puppet, just like Israfel had said...

NO...

Crushing pain assailed him as a boot slammed down on his hand. He heard several sharp snaps--scales and bones both, scales digging into his flesh under the pressure of Israfel's weight. He cried out, unable to pull his anguished hand away from Israfel's foot, unable to stop him. He screamed, loud and hard. He felt something almost-give in his mind...not quite pain, not quite even him...Amidst the pain he managed to grasp this thought and hold it amidst the blaze of white sparks exploding in his eyes, the throbbing working up his arm, drowning out the pain from his burned flesh. The weight came harder just before it lifted entirely, Lafayel was acutely aware of the pressure as his scream still poured from his lungs. He couldn't even focus on Israfel, weak and limp as he stared up at him, blankly. His face had to hold the same sort of wounded betrayal Israfel had worn those years ago...

No...don't kill me...I want...to live! (Who was he screaming at in his mind? His master? Israfel?)

"Tsukasa! Stop!" The...human's voice... Lafayel dimly managed to realize. He vaguely wondered who the man was talking to, through the pain of his crushed hand. Israfel's fingers twitched, wreathed in flame. Lafayel gazed at him mutely. The other angel's face smoothed, and then he turned, with something like alarm on his face. He gazed down at Lafayel, and gave a faint cry, stepping away.

Anger filled Lafayel. WHAT? Israfel...oh...he must have been keeping up that saintly face for the human...

Rage flashed through him again, indignant at the hypocrisy.

"What...did I...just do?" Israfel whispered, staring at Lafayel with a face that was the picture of horror. He fled back to the human's arms, whimpering as Lafayel began to laugh at the hypocrisy of it all, the stupidity of the façade, pulling himself up, cradling his crushed throbbing hand. How stupid it all was--how meaningless. How disgraceful it was for Israfel to so throw himself at the human, sobbing those obvious crocodile tears...

That tear he'd felt in his skull...He suddenly had some idea of what that meant: It was a glimmer of a fraying puppet-string, THAT was what it was.

You still want to call me a puppet, Israfel? I'll show you...actually, I'd probably thank you if I weren't filled with rage at your saint-playing hypocritical heresy...

Black, singed feathers fell all around him, from his trembling wings. He ignored them, swaying slightly as he raised himself to his feet. "So...you finally reveal your true self..." Lafayel managed to hiss with a rage-filled smile playing over his lips. "A heartless angel! That is your true form, Israfel!" He declared in a hoarse shriek. Let the human hear it now, let everyone know! ...Just like the last time... You did this to me!

Israfel was shaking. "No..." he whispered. Lafayel's mad grin grew. "Seven years ago you spilled innocent blood." He whispered. So what if it was true or not… He'd heard the other angel whispering, terrified in his sleep those years back as he'd entered the room to bully the truth from him. Israfel's worst nightmare...he'd confirm it.

He knew nothing of himself…a perfect revenge…Let's see you try to clip your own strings, Israfel! I'll tie them on with so many knots you'll never break free! Lets see you look at your own strings!

"N-no...I..." the mad angel was clutching his head, something like terror on his face. Lafayel's eyes slitted, ignoring the building pain in his stomach. He felt nauseous. The tear in the hazy fabric blanketing his skull, was coming undone under the throb of pain as he fought to tear it away.

Of course, his master always faded away at the sense of pain...she would be all the weaker...he'd punched through...all because of Israfel…

He let his own feverish smile linger. He just had to delay, just anger the angel once more, just cause enough pain to tear through entirely...

The strings were snapping, and with them, he was binding Israfel--it had a certain sadistic, ironic, vengeful glee to it insofar as an idea went…

"I'm surprised you had the nerve to show your face on earth..." Lafayel managed to whisper, feeding his strength off the trembling of the stronger angel. He could feel the hazy influence of that girl peeling from his mind, scrabbling to get free from his mental grip as he fought it off. He was already projecting himself by her side though, she'd be split trying to control the mirage of two minds...weakened...

almost...

His nausea rose unbearably and he choked, spitting up blood, his own internal organs turning against him in an attempt to control him, but he fought all the harder, coughing, gagging.

Israfel gasped, eyes large. "Lafayel!"

Lafayel swayed dizzyingly, ripping away the last shreds of the control, peeling them away using his pain as a weapon as he clenched at the crippled hand, flaring pain through his mind to weaken her influence. "I'll heal you right now!" Israfel exclaimed. Lafayel's eyes widened, and he very nearly swore. "Don't touch me!" he bellowed.

Oh, oh, OH, the LAST thing he needed right now was to loose that edge the pain gave him over his human master...the LAST thing he needed was to have Israfel somehow convinced he was indebted to him...

The last thing he wanted was for Israfel to think he saved him…The IDIOT…

Lafayel gritted his teeth. "Do you always heal those you demolish?" He managed to grunt. "How dumb do you think I am?" Several stubborn tendrils of his master's presence clung to him, he couldn't seem to shake them free, even with the pain...

How funny, she was so desperate to keep him a slave, a pet, a captive FRIEND. After she'd just tried to kill him too…sickening irony, really… How foolish and silly all these humans were! Israfel was really too much like them. It was almost funny. They really deserved eachother…

"You love humans so much, you can just stay and watch them destroy themselves. All by yourself." Lafayel managed to hiss. That's right, tangle in with them why don't you? Since you like them so much...

He needed something to wrench those last tendrils from his mind! Kaoru was scrabbling fast to take him back, but she was obviously distracted... Israfel's eyes were wide. "Lafayel!" Lafayel longed to hiss 'Don't use my name like that, you fool!' but he didn't, too absorbed in trying to remove that last bit of disgusting human influence from his brain.

Perhaps if he recombined his projections...But...he had to stop Israfel...Israfel would follow him...he couldn't have that...

He had to think quickly, he could feel Kaoru amassing her powers again for a fresh attempt at reclaiming him. He clenched his wounded hand tightly, hissing with the pain as he felt the influence shrink back.

Now!

Lafayel expelled his reservoirs of energy, pummeling towards the other angel in a graceless blast as his image faded away.

Now who's a creature of pride, Israfel? NOW…Who's the puppet?

His master was forced away, the last tendrils snapping. He pulled himself into the projection at her side just long enough to...

He was surprised. He felt no rage at seeing her. Her tiny little body, clothed in that ridiculous stiff-skirted outfit, pale hair streaming in a way that had occasionally--when he was feeling the most regretful and nostalgic--reminded him of…home. His kind.

He had wanted to strike her just as one last act of defiance, but now…He really didn't want to.

In a way, he had to admit he pitied her somehow...a girl who'd lived an unloved life...just like him. She'd at least tried to stop him. She'd at least valued him in her own strange way--despite all her abuses, despite all her apparently carelessness and callousness, she'd valued him as something precious...she at least deserved something for that…

He felt a small bit of sorrow that he'd managed to break free...no...She had that idiot human Kuga, she didn't really need him THAT desperately. If he stayed there another instant, he'd just end up killed--be it by Kuga's sword for betraying her, or by being re-mindbroken and sent back out into battle, no matter his shaky energy levels.

But...he did manage to solidify long enough to give her parting words. "Master..." The words felt useless on his lips now. It had no real measure of control over him any longer. He'd chafed under calling a human 'master' for so long…but now…it felt harmless…it was so pitiful really...so pathetic...He'd hated her for something like that? She was only a lost, scared little girl when it all came down to it...

"I'm sorry..." He whispered. Truly, he was. She'd wanted him there. He knew it. But she still didn't understand. She had no value for life, even if she loved to the point of suffocation. He was just another little bird to her... He didn't even give her a chance to turn to stare at his image, he simply vanished, leaving behind nothing but a smattering of black feathers and a motionless girl. He thought he heard the beginnings of a word from Kuga, but vanished before he could be sure.

His body formed itself around his original projection on a rooftop some distance away. He weakly pulled his tattered cloak about him, wincing as he slumped over, breathing hard. He squinted down to see a little group of four mismatch-colored heads hurrying towards the place he'd just escaped. One of them had bunches of white on either side of the visible oval of his head…

I must say, Israfel...despite causing me nothing but pain, despite my hatred for your hypocrisy--you painted-saint...despite everything...I did need you.

Lafayel's lips twisted into a grimace as he looked up at the stars. "Retreating, you say, Israfel?...No...there's still time enough for me to catch it..." He sank to his knees, grunting. The bandages had at least helped protect his new-formed skin. Only his arms had really been harmed much, and his wings were singed as well, but they hardly felt anything anymore anyway. He scowled at the sky. "Lord Azrael...you have much to account for." He hissed. The rooftop swam dizzyingly. Lafayel dropped to his knees. "No...no" he growled nauseous.

Not after all this...!

His body slumped over, energy flickering weakly. His wings were stealing too much oxygen to try to replenish his energy supply...he'd go unconscious at this rate! He was still too close to Kaoru! He'd be caught again! There was no way she'd let him go! She'd sooner smother him! Despite his arguments with himself, the rooftop spun gently, developing a blue-spotted haze swimming over it, then gradually went completely black as sounds faded away down the end of a long tunnel...

No!

White light, a haze...and suddenly he could breathe again! Cold, sweet air, and there finally seemed to be enough of it once more! He coughed and opened his eyes. The light faded. Lafayel blinked muzzily, then his eyes focused and they snapped into narrow slits as he jerked himself upright. "You!" He shrieked. Gabriel's placid features remained steady. Lafayel scrambled backwards. "You stay away! What do you think you're doing?" Gabriel's lips curved faintly upwards in a serene smile. "Observing." He said quietly, simply.

Lafayel's feathers flared. He wasn't healed--nothing could heal wounds brought about by Israfel: he was angel of judgment. But the last thing Lafayel needed was to be saved by the angel of Mercy!

"You call THAT observing? I don't need your help! Why are you helping ME anyway? I'm a nephil!" Gabriel blinked slowly and faintly frowned. He was quiet for a long moment, then finally smoke slowly, in that dreamy, vaguely disconnected way of his. "...It's been years since I've heard that word used..." He said softly, faintly as though trying to work through the idea with words. His slanted green eyes went unfocused for a moment, then sharpened again. "That no longer troubles me. You were in need, so I provided the proper balance of mercy."

Lafayel clenched his fists, quietly irritated. He'd forgotten how alike Israfel and Gabriel really were...PROPER balance of mercy! RIGHT!

"These wounds haven't healed for a reason, and I think you're quite aware of why THAT is." Lafayel said sharply. Gabriel's smile became--against all assumption of Lafayel's, if anything wider, his eyes softening. "I have already taken care of all I could for Israfel..."

Of course Gabriel would only view Israfel, even Israfel's damage as nothing but cause for bliss. Lafayel had always wondered rather queasily at his attachment. He still didn't want to know for certain the connection between those two that Gabriel would go to such pains to rescue the mad angel.

Lafayel's eyes slitted and his wings flared as he snarled out. "You're why he's here. He abandoned you. Don't you look at me with that expression like everything's right with this world. He abandoned you!"

Gabriel's smile faded. "You, being his victim, could never understand how fragile he's become...he's all but human now...and I believe that would have pleased him, so I do not interfere with his newfound delicacy." he inclined his head, wings trimming back almost primly. "Any insult he has offered me...he would hardly have done had he known better...he is still Israfel..." Gabriel's voice grew fainter and fainter.

Lafayel gave a snort, sarcasm laden in his every word. "Oh really, how noble of you. Forgiving him..." His scowl sharpened. "He's mindbroken! That should count for something. I would think you of all people would be most apt to watch over him for THAT sort of thing. Letting him be controlled by a human of all things!"

Gabriel's brows creased faintly. "No...he and I are separate...I will not interfere with his goodness. I extend a branch of peace now...and I too am sworn to protect. I can hardly hope to watch over both." Lafayel's eyes studied him for a long moment, then gradually widened. "You're mindbroken?" He whispered. Gabriel only smiled, saying nothing. Lafayel's wings raised and he lifted hands to defend himself, waiting for that moment when Gabriel would attack, when the second mindbreaker would appear, ready to enslave him once more...He'd fallen into a trap! How stupid he'd been--thinking that Kirihara and Kaoru were the only mindbreakers he'd have to deal with--an eraser was a lofty jewel to put in the cap of any arsenal.

Gabriel's eyes gazed blankly for a moment, then he faintly smiled. "Be at peace. My master desires nothing." He said softly. He turned, spreading his wings while Lafayel stared at him mutely. "I must go now...I am needed elsewhere." Lafayel snorted, wings shifting in disdain, recovering as though nothing had ever passed. What mindbreaker ignored the taking in of a second eraser? The mindbreaker could easily break the balance of all the others and rise to power! Gabriel repeated himself. "My master desires nothing. You will not be harmed."

Lafayel believed him. He didn't know why he did, but he believed him...Humans were stupid enough to ignore such an advantage...Humans...They believed that mercy could exist. They kept their odd ideologies...

Lafayel paused. How strange. Gabriel really had changed. He'd become nearly so blind as a human could be, but he wore it like a badge of enlightenment, and Lafayel could hardly complain--it meant HE could go on unscathed.

Odd things, humans...They were unpredictable. That was why they were so dangerous and yet so harmless at once--other people like Kaoru existed all over, crying for love in the only way they knew how: like children.

Humans were nothing but dangerous children...

Gabriel paused glancing over a shoulder, the wind stirring his long hair. Lafayel studied him for another moment. ...Out of all of them, Gabriel seemed the most unchanged outwardly, but perhaps he was the one BEST changed...overall. His green eyes gazed at Lafayel with almost a distant tenderness. Lafayel ignored it. Gabriel's sudden aptitude for an attempt at sainthood was still somewhat nauseatingly, sickeningly sweet for his taste, no matter the reason, no matter the benefit. Just because he was aided by Gabriel's newfound softheartedness didn't mean he had to be respectful about it. He and Israfel really were alike when it all came down to it, Gabriel that was... Yes...that was all. It was only really as though they had faintly changed places in a way... That idealism...

Someone else must have inspired it in him... And Lafayel was only half sure he knew who.

"What will you seek with your newfound freedom?" Gabriel asked quietly, noticing the eyes on him. Lafayel's expression could have been set in stone as he pulled his thoughts back. He let his expression sit for a moment longer, then suddenly he broke into a mocking smile. You'll find I'm not so easily manipulated... "Ah, I'm simply a base nephil. I'll serve my pride of course...and the winds of revenge. There will be a reckoning in heaven when I return." Gabriel's face was impassive, but the smile dropped. "...Your life is your own." Gabriel said finally, almost reluctantly. "Tend carefully your self-inflicted wounds." His final comment was all but lost in the wind, then there were a few strong flaps and he soared away, coat fluttering after him with the long trail of his blond hair.

Lafayel's grimace solidified again once he was out of hearing range, but not out of sight. He scoffed under his breath. "As though I need your self-righteous blessing." Nonetheless, Gabriel was right. It was time...time for him to go back.

Yes. It is time...time...to tend to the puppet master himself. After all, there doesn't seem to be anything else left to lose. When one has already rebelled what cost is there in attempting to stab at God himself? I am...after all, my father's son.

Lafayel smiled to himself--it was a grim expression at best.

It's time the great angel of death choked on his own edicts for once, and remembered the expendable, low angel he sent out long ago.

-o-O-o- Finis -o-O-o-

Small Notes to Supplement the Reading for Nice Lazy People Who Don't Want to Spend Hours Researching Post-Reading:

Raphael is an apocryphal angel of healing. There was actually a discussion some time ago on Livejournal in a J.O. fan community over whether Lafayel could actually be a mistranslation of Raphael. (Another early name for Raphael is "Labbiel" which confuses further) Unfortunately I was one of the staunch advocates on the other side, throwing tomatoes on the theory by pointing out that Raphael, unlike Lafayel, is supposed to have a congenial personality that enjoys "chatting merrily with human beings" and for a healing angel, Lafayel is the only angel in the series that is never seen healing anyone at all. However, if you want more information on Raphael, get your hands on the apocryphal book of Tobit, and enjoy the reading. (Especially the bit about Tobit sleeping outside the city walls and getting bird crap in his eyes and going blind--making necessary Raphael's entire tedious journey with Tobit's son, Tobias. I kid you not.)

The Angel of Death is Azrael. Azrael is vaguely mentioned in book three by Israfel. I also use the character of Azrael in both Control and Gracious Wings, my epic stories, but so far he's only been vaguely mentioned. He is a four winged angel covered in eyes. Every time one of the eyes closes, a person dies. Azrael is also originally an Islamic angel, much like Israfel is. My knowledge of Islam is rather stunted at best however, so I can't address where more information can be found on him outside of a handy angel dictionary, (check the public library--mine has about three different ones) the internet, or such other things. Within this fic, Azrael has heavy control over the heavens and is an elite angel. That's all you basically need to know. He's Lafayel's boss, sort of. He's also Israfel's boss too, but to a lesser extent as Israfel is a high angel and Lafayel is not.

Nephilim according to questionable religious texts of the world, are the hybrid sons of men (women (ahem) bunch rabid of shonan-ai fans...) and angels. They are said to be giants and caused lots of trouble on the earth. One such example was thought to be Goliath, if you believe apocryphal texts. (I'm rather cynical since the whole myth is based on how you translate "son of God", and completely ignores the fact that fully-human Adam was referred to as a "son of God." I still use the myth reference though.) In this fic, they are the secondary class of angel. They are unable to heal, and are almost always weaker than pure-blooded angels. They also have a greater variety of physical feature variations compared to the higher angels. (who for the most part have white wings, pale hair, and fair skin) Hence Lafayel's black wings. If you ever should get involved in Gracious Wings, you'll learn more about my take on this, but if not, this much information should be sufficient to explain any references I made in here. If you want to find out more, the apocryphal Book of Enoch is the main source of this myth, if you can get your hands on it.

Lafayel's Condition has to do with the scales poking out of his arm (see book five). If you don't read Gracious Wings, you don't need to worry about what it is or what it entails. The only reason that's in here is because I couldn't think of any other explanation to use for his arms. Forgive me.