Everything had been a flurry of emotion and blood. The first one had lunged, perhaps not realizing Gabriel was some otherworldly being himself, and the wail it had let out upon biting into him, spilling holy blood in spite of all his past transgressions, had caused something inside to snap. With a lunge, his wing spread, rending the stunned creature in two, but his mind was lost to the pain and the sorrow and the loneliness, to a rage that had been boiling under the surface for years. He made for the cave, and the creatures lurking therein offered resistance, but he tore through them as if they were nothing, rending pieces with wings, hands, and his old morning star—his sword had been lost in combat, but the star was the one weapon he could perhaps always summon. The only thing of home he had left.
When it was down to him and the last of them, that had been when the wing came off, tearing away from his back with a horrific snap—and a great deal of writhing on the creature's part, as blood sprayed across its eyeless face. The pain in his missing appendage was damped down by the pain in his mind, and the reality of it only seemed to hit him after the last one fell. He choked back a sob, staggering, catching himself on the cave wall. His wings had become tattered in the years after the wars, ragged, black things unbecoming of an angel of his status, but now his remaining wing was missing great chunks of feathers, blood streaming freely across the exposed flesh. He curled it around himself, grabbing at it and pulling it close as a child might a blanket. He held it for a long time before the pain eased enough to move, and found his way back to the surface.
Light was blooming in the east by the time he stepped out of the cave, but he didn't stop. The missing wing, and the vast, empty wasteland around him felt like a testament to what he'd lost in the war; his connection with heaven, his family, all the way from the lesser angels to Michael. He was truly alone in that moment, when his feet finally ceased to carry him, and he was too weakened to even catch himself. He landed, remaining wing splayed out, black feathers a stark contrast to the sun bleached ground beneath him. A low rumble rose in the distance as darkness swept his mind away.
((Shittiest description ever. Also title is a working title, idk if it'll stay yet.))
Anyway, since Michael became human from removing his wings in Legion, I figured taking one off would weaken him to about the strength of a Priest. And due to the nature of what I'm going for here, a lot of the characters therein will be of my own making. No plans for any shipping, though.
This thing, however, started as the beginning post of a roleplay with a friend and I decided that perhaps I could write something of it, hence why the first part is so short. And I was just having too many feelings over Gabriel to ignore it. And I'll adjust things to accommodate the show as needed. Legion references are also likely to be made.
Also not beta'd or anything. Apologies for any errors and poor grammar.