Diablo Story
Imperius X Malthael
WARNING: This story contains gore, fluffy, violence & Yaoi/BL
You have been warned. Enjoy.

You were sick, but my brother you will stay

He was actually the last person any of them expected to hear had come back. Diablo, they assumed would be back in no time, assumed the demon had swallowed their brother's power when he was released from the stone. Alas here they were looking at the messenger angel who had delivered the scandalous news to the four, the deafening silence that rolled over the room like a cold breeze in a graveyard.

"We have found Death in a half dead angel, we have found Malthael!"

The words echoed and resonated in walls of the meeting hall, no one moved, no one spoke. The courier still kneeled in silence, waiting for one of the Archangels to dismiss him and not kill him for disrupting. Moments passed, and still no one spoke. Itherael broke the silence that so crippled the room.

"Where is he now?"

"The angels that found him are tending to him, from what they told me, he should be back in his chambers right now. However, they say he was a little hesitant about coming back even in the state he was in."

"Thank you."

"Tell them to keep tending to him and that we will be their shortly." Auriel spoke. The courier nodded and left to deliver the Hopes message. The doors closed with a loud click, the Hope then moved to the Valor and Justice, parting the two, setting Tyrael on the floor now that Imperius had let him go. They were having another physical argument that had left the mortal hanging in the air by the front of his cloak.

Issuing a simple draw in their argument, they continued the meeting. They all tried their hardest to carry a proper meeting, however they were all riveting to see the Wisdom. The meeting ending prematurely as a result of their hast, all three angels spreading their wings, Tyrael being carried by Itherael haphazardly, and flew off to the Pools of Wisdom. The pools themselves were long since left for those who mourned Malthael, those being the Archangels and his generals, and whoever else wished to do so. The doors to Mal's chambers didn't stand a chance against the four of them, the doors nearly came off its hinges as a result of the Arches not wishing to delay their 'feared to be lost' brother.

Their brother lay in his bed. His armor, cracked and broken in many places, was placed on a chair in a corner of the room. His wrappings that presented itself as the majority of his so called clothes, were unwound from his torso and arms, revealing all his lacerations. Grey scars ran over Malthael's stomach and arms, they were the last ruminates of battles long since fought. Silver marks decorated his throat and along his collarbones, more resent injuries that had healed on their own. The worst was the white stains that covered his left shoulder and extended down the left side of his chest, there was no definite shape to the mark since some of the angels working on him were still pulling chunks of his armor from the wound. The others, including the courier angel, were unraveling the wrappings on Wisdom's right leg, his boot removed to easily view the bite mark that oozed white. The mark candidly showed it was from a demon, if the teeth they pulled from it were any indication.

Malthael laid with his head tilted against the headboard, his hood skewed on his head revealing his face just enough for the angels to see the grey marks under his left eye, obviously from a past battle where he just missed getting a weapon through his head. His eyes, however were closed, evidence that he had either fallen asleep or fighting the pain was too much now. Auriel wasted no time in assisting with her brother's shoulder, pulling the last of the broken metal from the tissue before grabbing cleaning gauze. In only a few minutes and one audible gurgle from the patient, the Hope had exposed to the audience the three atrocious slices that extended from the center of his chest up and over his shoulder in a slow deliberate manner, as if placed there to mean something.

Imperius, who had taken a place next to Malthael opposite to the Hope, saw the marks more sinister than anything else. "Diablo." He hissed out, the room growing frighteningly cold and quiet. Yet the angels didn't stop their work on the wounds that needed binding. Auriel looked to the Valor, his hand cupped Mal's wrist, and his eyes pinned on the wound, as if glaring at it would remove it from the violet. His other hand placed lightly on the latter's good shoulder. A quiet rubble came from the patient as one of the angels tugged on a particular tooth imbedded in his shin, but the Arches ignored it for the most part.

"Imperius we cannot just assume Diablo had hurt him. I understand your distaste in Diablo, but we have no evidence that he is back yet. For all we know one of the other Demon Lords could be alive again, and they could have done this." Tyrael spoke. The aspect of justice within him leading the mortal to defend the Prime Evil.

The sound of scrapping bone on bone, and Malthael's long sleepy rasp of pain alarmed the room, before the horrid noises of blood and tissue squishing and the 'pop' of releasing wet suction. Eyes shifted and widened at the angel pulling a long, thin, rotting black tooth soaked in white blood. The angel pulled the last of it out before dropping it in a bowl of water with the other tooth fragments, the water pluming with white silk ribbons. More cleaning gauze rubbed at the mutilation on the Death's leg, until finally the entire imprint of where the wide spaced teeth had punctured the soft flesh that had a metal boot covering over, which at the time was crumpled on the floor with a serious amount of blood rimmed around the gaping holes in it. On the side, where the attacker's mouth would have been, there was heavy tissue damage not caused by physical attack, but from a heat source that had slightly burned his leg, lacerations from the metal melting onto his skin was evident as it chipped off with the rubbing the angel was giving it.

"It is not from a normal demon, defiantly from one with a lot of power to break through this kind of metal. And not many demons can really generate a heat source from their mouths other than, I believe, the Prime Evils. The teeth themselves don't seem to give a real indication of who their from but the marks themselves seem to be from Diablo. But that is only from a medical angel's standpoint, and from someone who doesn't know much about demons." The angel scrubbing the burn with some supplement, before finally wrapping it in bandages.

Imperius looked at Tyrael, "There is your evidence." Valor hissed at him.

"Imperius, if I may," Itherael spoke up from behind Tyrael, "why are you so keen on who did this?"

All eyes were on the Valor now, Arches and angels alike. Imperius looked at Itherael for a moment, obviously thinking about what he wanted to say for once. He looked to Mal one last time, he had shifted during the tooth removal to face more toward the latter.

"He was sick, but OUR brother, he still is."

Malthael showed signs of sickness long before Imperius and Tyrael's fight that cast the Justice from their home. The Wisdom had become faint and he drifted from consciousness more times than favored. He became less responsive to things, his skin became cold to the touch and on more than one occasion Auriel appeared to meetings saying the Wisdom wasn't going to show. Issuing Imperius to go after the meetings to aid the smaller, which was never too hard, because the violet would just mumble something about being cold before nuzzling into the Valor's armor, as the light that shined upon him made his armor nice and warm.

Imperius loved Malthael to -figurative- death, and he hated seeing the other in such a miserable state. And after the fight with Tyrael, Malthael's state only deteriorated more. Those last few nights Imperius had left to hold the smaller were the worst. Mal would mumble in his sleep about something plaguing him, something horrible eating away at him. Imperius would do his best to comfort the other, whispering sweet little things about everything being alright and that he was there. His words would usually make the other relax to the point where he would curl into the latter more and the rest of the night Mal would be fine. Other nights, he'd wake up shivering and a new affection would be needed to calm him.

When Diablo took over, Imperius feared for not only the home he had failed to protect, but also how he failed to keep Mal and his brothers safe. When the nephelem defeated the Prime Evil, the Valor was relieved, and for a short time the Wisdom seemed to recover, things were returning to normal, everything was going to be alright.

Then, the unthinkable. When Tyrael told them the news of their brother, Imperius was about ready to go down to Westmarch himself to retrieve the violet, if Auriel and Itherael hadn't put their foot down. Saying that the nephelem would take care of Mal. It did nothing other than make him want to go to their brother more.

It was a stroke of luck that Malthael came through heaven on his way to Pandemonium, a second stroke of luck that the violet came to him for once last goodbye. It was a broken goodbye as his eyes had evil in them, but his brother was battling someone else for his voice. He loved Malthael with all his heart, and he wanted his brother free of the illness that was eating him. Yet he couldn't, he couldn't hurt his beloved brother, even as the violet left for Pandemonium.

He lacked the courage, he lacked the heart. "He's just sick." He spoke to the nephelem as he was the only one left that had the strength to stop Malthael. Imperius could feel his throat tighten at the thought of Malthael in turmoil within the confines of his mind, it only worsened at the sight that greeted Tyrael and him when the battle was over. The image of their brother's silhouette sprawled across the stone floor his threshing scythes cast across the far side of the floor. He had taken them with him when Tyrael wasn't looking.

Tyrael was over the heavens for the nephelem's victory, only dampened by the fact Mal had destroyed the BlackSoulstone in the battle, none the less he still showered the nephelem with his affections and graduated. Not surprising since many knew of the mortal angel's unspoken attraction to the nephelem, Tyrael would never admit it though. It was quite obvious the Justice adored the nephelem, and if you squinted the nephelem liked the Archangel as well, however Tyrael was too blind to his own affections to say something and the nephelem was too prideful to say anything either.

Days had passed since Malthael's return, he was recovering well, yet he still refused to explain what happened or why he went out to destroy everything. Imperius didn't push him when he declined talking about it. Auriel tried not to be pushy about wanting to hear about it, but sometimes her impatience got the better of her, and she would slowly get a little more aggressive in her mini interrogations. Itherael didn't ask questions about it at all, he knew his brothers were already working away at getting answers from Mal, so he let them do it versus assisting in the verbal assault toward the Death. Tyrael, however pressed Malthael for information the most, he would constantly ask him questions and demanded answers, and Imperius made sure to intervene whenever it was obvious Malthael wasn't going to respond.

Malthael acted as if the whole situation of him destroying evil never happened, and his injuries were just that and nothing else. He secluded himself to the Pools of Wisdom, hardly ever leaving other than meetings and to go to his personal chambers, where Imperius said he'd give the violet a proper welcome when he had recovered enough. Imperius was, for a very prideful and gallant Archangel, a kind soul that assisted the shorter frequently in his wounded state.

Granted angels healed fast, heavens, Imperius could get a hole blasted right through him and a few hours later he'd be perfectly fine again! Malthael however healed fairly slowly compared to most angels. Most angels, Arch's or not, would be completely healed at the point Mal was at, he was back on his feet in less than a day, but his wounds weren't closing as fast as they should have been. Auriel deduced that some kind of demonic fluid, (saliva, sweat, blood, etc.) got into his body via the wounds and was slowing his natural healing process, but because the Death didn't talk about it or say anything about it, no one could have been sure.

However his health was increasing even if he was doing it gradually, and Imperius was dedicated to helping his brother. Malthael couldn't walk correctly without needing to lean on someone, and he had strict orders from the Hope to not wear his normal armor on his left shoulder. Course he could barely move his left arm anyway so he followed that order to a T. And Imperius would always be kind enough to lend Mal an arm to lean on, and to help him lift or carry things.

Even with their close relationship, Mal still wouldn't talk about it, not his motives nor the reason of his state of health. All he would say was that, it was good to be home, and that it was wonderful to see them again. It brought a smile to their faces even if they were sad ones. They all felt a sickening uneasiness that emanated off the Death when he was around his brothers, resulting in their own anxiety to rise when he was around. But mostly it just made them furiously worried for him. What had happened? Where did he go? Why, why wasn't he saying anything?

Didn't he trust them?

"Malthael?" Imperius said. Night had long since risen in the Silver City, leaving most to drift into their own places of rest for the time being before tomorrow rose. Imperius laid in the bedding of his chambers, Malthael resting on his wide chest, a finger tracing imaginary symbols of a long forgotten langue over the Valor's pectoral, drifting somewhere in between sleep and tiredness.

"Hm?" the Wisdom hummed, content in the Valor's warmth, the moonlight bleeding through the windows and, even in the darkness of the night, light still came through to shine on Imperius. His skin glowing with the moonlight, and casting a silvery shadow across the violet.

"Do you trust us? Your brothers?"

"Of course I trust you and our brothers. Why do you ask?"

"Why won't you tell us then? Why won't you tell me?" Imperius craned his head to settle his nose to the soft flesh behind Malthael's ear. Taking a deep breath of the Death's scent, strange how death itself smelt like lilies. For a few minutes, Malthael didn't say anything, his hands no longer moving around in patterns, the silence was thin but sharp and it punctuated its existence with brutal force in the form of stabbing away at the ears of the duo.

"…I trust you."

"Brother that does not answer my-"

"I trust you."

"Mal-"

"I trust you." It was so soft and quiet, delicate, and rung with an equally quiet sob. Pulling back, Imperius looked down at Mal, seeing the glittering shimmer of tears in the dark shadow that cast over the Wisdom's eyes. "I trust you." Imperius's large warm hand came up to smooth away the little trickle of sparkling liquid, feeling the coldness of the other's face under his fingertips. "I trust you." Pulling Malthael close to his chest, thin arms lacing around the Valor's neck, softly crying into the large warm chest, sobbing little remorse's, only letting Imperius piece the hiccupped words into their proper order in the puzzle of confusion.

"I-I'm sorry…H-He w-wouldn't stop…I-It was so dark…I-I, couldn't d-do anything…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I-I-It hurt…H-he was so d-disgusting…I couldn't stop him…" hiccups blotted the space between the broken slurred sobs. "I-It was so f-foul and evil…He, he just wouldn't stop a-asking about what y-you would do…L-Laughing…L-like it was all just, just a joke…He kept bringing you u-up…Laughing at how p-pathetic it was fighting you a-and, and…" Mal hiccupped and chirped little noises placing his smaller hand over Imperius's wrist that wasn't underneath the violet, pushing it to touch the softer flesh of his lower back close to his hip, pushing past the wrappings of his waist and legs and the loose "skirt" of his usual attire. Letting Imperius feel the silver slices of long nails carved around the soft hip, the Wisdom flinched away when the hand trailed back toward his spine, feeling more of the little groves of scratches and marks of pain.

Imperius was infuriated, the Lord of Terror would pay and he would pay with more than just his life. How dare that demon touch his brother, his love, and think he could get away without a single consequence. Mal was his and his alone. A low rumble slowly started to rise within the Valor's throat slowly proceeding to get louder and louder with every festered scar he ran his fingers over, never once recognizing where his hand roamed. Until- "I-I-IMPERIUS." The wet feeling of Malthael's entrance extinguishing the wrath within the larger only to be replaced, by the soft gentleness he had grown accustom to giving to Mal.

Placing soft kisses on the violet's neck being ever carful of the bandaged slices across his shoulder, his hand groping and massaging the scared skin as he mulled over his next motions. It was still rather early in the night, but not many angel's would be awake at this time or near them to hear, and what would the harm be for comforting his brother in his time of sorrow, besides him limping a little more awkwardly then before. Mentally, Imperius chuckled at his own lewd remark no one would understand.

Smaller hands roamed across Imperius' muscular chest down his abs to the red fabric that hung from his waist, thin fingers pulling at the ties that fastened them to his person. Taking that as an invitation, Imperius pulled Malthael's wrappings and fabric down and off, thankful that the bandages came off easy as well as the bandages for his leg were separate from the rest of his attire. His fingers went back to their original positions, thumbs rolling circles on the protruding hip bones as the rest of his hands easily engulfed the remainder of his upper thigh. The tips of his fingers falling in between to press and prod at the bodily cavern amongst his legs.

Little moans fell from the death as the fingers continued to play with but never penetrate him, a wet tongue lathered his good collar bone with bites and kisses slowly working up his neck running his teeth across the pencil thin lines of silver that wrapped around the flesh. An audible groan rose from the Valor's gut at the feeling of cold fingers finally pulling the red fabric loose and grasping his not-so-angelic spear, finding it already half erect with the other's audible preaches that were ever addicting. A rather loud moan resounded from the violet as two large fingers were plunged into his rear, probing and massaging the velvet walls, stretching him with care and tenderness.

Moans resonated through Mal's vocal cords, as the latter's fingers continued to poke and prod at his sensitive insides. Remembering all the times they shared like this, it was nice and sweet, Imperius always cared and was always aware of himself. Being near twice Mal's size, Imperius felt the need to hold himself back even just a little. He never hurt him, even when the Death asked him to be a little rough sometimes, there was always that small amount of restraint in his eyes. However, he'd of asked nothing more than to have the latter deal with him as he pleased after what happened.

Diablo was horrid and he burned his skin with every touch he gave. All the demon did was wander for hours in the horrendous and vile fear zone he so cultivated for himself. Only later remembering the Death was stuck there with him. He found it funny to have his minions scratch and claw at Malthael from under his flesh. Leaving him violated and abused, feeling lonely away from Imperius, which the Lord of Terror caught on to quickly and he used it to his ever present advantage.

Diablo's laughter still sickened him to the point of vomiting, his laugh permanently imbedded into his skull when he found talking shit about Imperius and ripping his shoulder apart to be the greatest release point of his rage. He found the other's pain and misery a joke, purely a means of amusement, and he loved every second that shiny white blood decorated the ground as a sign of power. That's all Diablo ever strived for. Power and fear.

So when Mal found a way out, he hadn't hesitated for even a second, however Diablo didn't see it as wondrous as the Arch did. He was almost away, almost free, he could go home! But Diablo wasn't having it, which was painfully clear when the Lord clamped his jaw down hard on his leg. It was only Malthael's kicking with the other leg in the demon's face that saved him from being dragged back to the lowest, most vile pool of Hell this monster possessed. Soon after he had collapsed from exhaustion and pain from running some ways away. Thinking back on it, it was probably a wasted effort, Diablo could have easily have opened another portal and dragged him right back.

Why he didn't, still bothered him. He could have easily over powered the angels that saved him, he had enough time between escape and rescue to do so.

"A-AHH," moaning loudly, Mal returned back to reality. Imperius adding a third finger to the ones already stretching his walls. Imperius was looking down at him again, Mal returned the look starring into his deep eyes.

It was like being in a dream, someone so close that it would hurt getting any closer, but at the same time it would feel all to gut wrenching to see that face move away, be replaced by that sickening reality, of seeing the disgusting smirk on Diablo's smug face. It was easy to pretend that was just a bad dream and that he was wake now, wide awake with Imperius to make him feel better. Wide awake and be loved. Course it was also easy to say he was just having another dream, of being home again, and in reality Diablo was probably waiting for him to open his eyes and have him stare at the demon rip a limb off him.

"Malthael?" Imperius muttered softly, moving them so Mal was on his back and Imperius was leaning over him. His hands, no longer probing the smaller, now placed on either side of the violet's chest as his knees pressed against the underside of the smaller thighs. "You're becoming complacent."

"Sorry."

"Don't be."

"But I am."

"I know, however that's not the point."

"What is the point then?"

A chuckle. "That I am the only one allowed to make love to you."

A dark blush bloomed across Malthael's face as the Valor chuckled softly before taking the violet's lips in his own. A sweet kiss, laced with the love they shared between them, but also a little sinister as it slowly but surely escalated. Feeling Imperius shift his hips forward, by the Gods it had been too long, too long since they'd been like that, too long since Imperius filled him. Gods it felt amazing, the feeling of fullness and the feeling of Imperius, not some filthy demon causing misery in his bones, not some foul parasite infesting his brain, just Imperius.

His tongue was sweet as nectar with just a hint of Imperius's smoky essence that so beckoned Malthael back to him. He loved Imperius to no end, truly, from the very first kiss, he cared for the latter and no one and nothing was going to stand in between that. Imperius ran his tongue along the inside of the Death's teeth, intertwining with his own tongue getting even more of the taste that so ebbed away to intoxicate his mouth.

He was so enthralled with the feeling he hardly noticed the latter rolling his hips, until he rolled a little too hard, making Mal moan into the gold's mouth. Gods he missed Imperius so much. His rolling soon became much more forceful as Mal's legs locked around the latter's waist, and arms wound around his neck pulling the larger closer. Wanting the closeness, wanting to feel the warmth, the proof that he was there, that it wasn't a dream.

A coil of ecstasy tightening in his abdomen, contracting and relax with very movement. A stream of saliva seeping out between their lips. Mal's eyes rolling back in his head as the other's large hands decided to run down his sides, and down his contracting abdomen before grasping his member, helping him along a little. Which wasn't really necessary because the Death didn't really have that long to begin with.

Going ridged, Malthael climaxed, hard. Breaking away from Imperius, he moan loudly into the cold air, not caring who heard. His muscles tightening around the gold, spurring him to his own release deep in the smaller, groaning something akin to the other's name. Silence fell in between the gasps and pants, no words were said between them. Slumping down into the bedding beneath them, grips loosening up around each other, well Imperius's did. Malthael's hands still gripped the Valor, as if he was going to leave and never come back.

The Valor chuckled softly again, kissing the violet's neck. "I missed you too." Mal relaxed slightly to the words. Before realizing Imperius was propping himself up on his knees, not laying all his weight on him. A smile slowly started to stretch across his face, a chuckle, snickers, then laughing cutely. Imperius was always so sweet. Imperius himself wasn't really following on why the Death was laughing, pulling back to rest on his hands over the giggling Arch, only seeing how cute he looked.

Apparently anything the violet did was contagious to the gold, because he soon started chuckling and snickering back. Pressing his forehead to Malthael's, smiling at each other sweetly. It had been far too long since they were like this. Far too long since they were at peace together. Far too long since they felt loved by the other.

It was amazing. Being together in each other's arms, in the moonlit dark, honestly happy together. Only getting sweeter with their heartwarming kiss. Oh the bitterness of everything before, now becoming the warm sweetness that followed after such a harsh storm triggered by Diablo.

"Love you, Malthael."

"I love you too."

Drifting off to the ever comforting bliss of sleep soon after. Not being bothered by the chill of air flowing through the chambers.

The meeting the next day seemed to drone on forever, mostly because it was filled with Imperius and Tyrael arguing once more. About what, Malthael stopped careing, he just sat, floating in the air a good distance away from his quarreling brothers, it was quite ridiculous, they did this every meeting and still they never stopped finding things to argue about.

He sighed heavily, they were idiots. They were his brothers.

But idiots nevertheless.

Looking up from the book he was looking over in his lap, he saw Auriel trying to intervene between the two while Itherael stood back lending no assistance whatsoever.

Auriel was always trying to keep peace between them all, well, between the Valor and Justice for the most part. She was really the only one that kept them all in check. She was truly the one that made all these unnecessary meetings not end with a fight, or, worse yet, someone dead.

Itherael… well he never truly got in conflicts and, if Auriel wasn't there, probably would have let Imperius and Tyrael kill themselves.

Mal continued his watch over them, not at all getting involved. His left arm flaring up in pain for what felt like the tenth time that day, every time getting worse in how painful it was. Placing his right hand on the shoulder he rolled his arm around as much as he could. Hearing a few pops of the tendons and muscles, then a single crack of the bones, which felt fantastic, before replacing his arms to their original positions on his work. Giving a quick glance at his fellow Arches, the argument had been resolved, and moved to the next topic.

He sighed again. Flinching as an involuntary muscle twitched in his injured leg, feeling a slow seeping warmed the already burnt tissue. Today just wasn't his day. Looking over at his brothers, now listening to the new subject they were conversing on, not really paying attention to him in the least. Maybe he could sneak out and take a nap, he was tired. Not because of Imperius, no, not at all, just the pain was starting to get to him. Glancing at the doors to the meeting hall, Imperius stood closest to it, and if he tried leaving Imperius would see him and ask if something was wrong.

Well, that was out. Yes, Imperius cared and it was sweet of him to do so, but he wasn't going to have the Valor worry about him for wanting a nap. How much longer was the meeting again? Another half hour or so? Great~… He thought to himself.

Maybe he could close his eyes for a bit, no one would notice. Closing his book over his crossed legs, laying his left arm across it, his right elbow propped up on the leather cover, his chin placed in his upturned palm. Closing his eyes, and briskly drifting off.

Another ten minutes rolled by, before Tyrael noticed the violet had gone from sitting straight in the air, to leaning at an awkward angle to the side and tipped backward slightly. His hood as far forward as could be without being greatly out of place, obviously sleeping. Glancing at Itherael, who returned the look, Tyrael looking and pointing toward the sleeping Arch, before looking back at the Fate. The Fate looking over at the Death, then at the Justice again.

"Malthael?" Tyrael spoke over at his brother, Auriel stopping in her speech to look at Mal, Imperius looking at him as well. Still dead asleep and tilting to the side a fraction more.

"Malthael?" Tyrael repeated again a little louder still no response, however a look of discomfort pinched at his face a little, however only the lower half of his face was visible with his hood so low.

"Malthael!?" The justice called out toward him. Startling the violet from his drifted state, letting out a loud "AHH" and falling the short four feet to the floor, where the thud of his back collided with the ground. A pained "OW" ringing from him, as he managed to sit himself up. An uncomfortable ache constricted his torn up shoulder, feeling the horrendous burning in his skin again, hissing a little as he grasped his injured shoulder once more.

Imperius moving over to him, kneeling down to the other's level, wrapping his arms around him, then lifting him up by the waist and supporting him to remain upright. The pain subsiding, Mal looked around at them questioningly. Itherael answering the silent question.

"You fell asleep."

"My apologies," he said numbly, leaning into Imperius. His eyes trying to drift back to sleep again, feeling the warm sun reflecting off the Valor's armor. "I'm really tired." He tried to stay awake, he really did, but by the Gods he was desperate for a nap at that moment, and he couldn't help himself to leaning fully on Imperius taking in the soft scent that was the Valor. Before any of them could say another word to him, Mal had already went back into his dreamless nap in Imperius' arms, who quickly had to compensate by tighten his grip on the Death before he slipped out of his grasp.

Holding the violet against his chest, Imperius looked up at the others who were in general worry at this point, this was very unlike Malthael and it made them scared. Yes, Mal found the meetings unnecessary and essentially a waste of time all in all, however he would at least listen and place his input every now and then. They all stared at one another for a few more moments, before agreeing that the meeting was dismissed, however they were going to have a long talk with Mal afterwards.

Imperius carried his sleeping brother to the Death's chambers. The smaller curled against his chest, a content atmosphere rolling off the snoozing Arch. Imperius smiled a little, he was cute like this, Imperius himself would never admit it, but he was cute like this. Malthael's chambers were, like always, filled with books and things that granted knowledge, little to no light was ever let in, granted there were no windows to let light in to begin with. Yet the room continued to have some sort of dim light source that the Valor didn't entirely understand, or know where it came from.

Imperius placed Malthael on the bedding, sitting on the edge, hovering over the violet slightly. The Valor stared down at him, not really knowing what to do. His mind rolling over old affairs absently, his eyes roaming over the violet's half covered face, inattentively he reached out pushing back the hood. Caressing the other's cheek, running his gold plated thumb across the unscarred skin. Mal made a soft cooing purr from the back of his throat, eyes fluttering slightly as he slowly came back to consciousness.

Malthael opened his eyes a fraction of an inch, seeing only blurry spheres of light, then starting to piece in shapes and shadows. Closing his eyes again before opening them a little more than before and seeing a dark mass looming over him. His mind drifting slightly back into his sleep, his mind fooling his eyes into seeing Diablo's menacing outline in the soft light. Taking a second to sit in the neutral space of his mind before the image of the Terror slammed hard into the forefront of his mind. Kick starting his fight or flight response, Malthael's eyes shot open, and quickly sat bolt upright.

A loud 'thunk' rung around in Imperius' helmet as the Death smacked their foreheads together. The violet falling back on the bedding both hands holding his forehead, pain shot from the connection point of his head and the hard metal of the Valor's ornate helmet. Imperius just ran his hand over the front of the metal, almost completely unfazed, he was startled a bit, of course, anyone would be if that happened, and it hurt, yes. However his helmet took most of the hit, and whatever was left felt like someone just face palmed him.

Looking down at the smaller who was rubbing his head with the palm of one hand now, looked back at the golden Archangel.

"Sorry I scared you, are you alright?" hand moving away from his metal-clad forehead, reaching to grasp the wrist of the hand on the violet's head. Stopping short when the other sat upright once more, evading hitting their heads together again by Malthael's hands grasping the sides of his helmet.

"No, I'm sorry! I was the one that hit you, are you alright!?" Mal said a little more concerned than necessary. His metal claws scrapping the one side of the helmet, as pain flared in his shoulder once more. Staring down at the smaller, Imperius was seemingly shocked by his brother's unnecessary alarm over something so simple.

"Brother, I'm fine. You act as though I'm not the one wearing a helmet." He paused to rest his large hand on the Malthael's hoodless head, examining the Death's forehead. There was a soft pink mark where they hit, but not much else. Then, being the sweet Arch he always was to his brother, leaned in to lay a sweet kiss on the mark then nuzzled his forehead affectionately, letting his warmth envelope the smaller.

Mal sat in silence for a minute, slowly relaxing to bask in the ever warm comfort that Imperius gave, arms coming up to hook behind the Valor's shoulders. Finding the space between the massive shoulder piece and his helmet the perfect place to place for his head. The comfort the larger gave was always so inviting, so peaceful, shocking for someone who fought so many battles in this Eternal Conflict, all of which never ended with peace.

He pulled away from Imperius, just far enough to catch him in a sweet kiss. Imperius returned the kiss, a hand rising up to cup Mal's cheek. Tasting the intoxicating flavor of the other's mouth, feeling the gentle rise that ran up their skins.

Bang.

"Imperius, is Malthael awake yet?" Auriel said after she slammed the door open, without a single knock or notification that she was coming in. Itherael standing behind her, still haphazardly holding Tyrael from the flight over. Frozen at the lips neither of the Arches on the bedding moved, shock and hesitation. Thanking ever God above them that Imperius' back was to the others. Pulling away from each other, Valor removed himself from the bed as he turned to his fellow Arches, letting them see for themselves rather than trust his vocals. Mal pulled his hood back over his head, feeling the necessity of hiding his blushing face in the shadow the fabric cast.

Nodding simply, Auriel walked in calmly, setting herself in a chair that was purposely placed between several stacks of books. Tyrael, after being released from the Fate's grasp took a place leaning against a towering bookshelf filled with nothing but knowledge, Itherael finding another chair hidden in the crook of the bookshelf the mortal Wisdom was leaning against and a shelf adjacent to it. Imperius remained near to the smaller, however he did move backward to rest his back against the wall next to the headboard. Eyes looked toward one another one last time, as if asking if someone wanted to find a more comfortable roost to listen from, no one moved. Reaching the silent agreement, all eyes then turned to stare at their violet brother, Malthael remained motionless as his eyes surveyed over his brethren's faces. Landing completely on Imperius in the end, huffing a sigh, Mal looked at the collected three.

"Where do you want to start?"

The air was cold and ill, thick to breathe, and pregnant with the uncensored brutality and harsh words that only the absolute sickest of demons were capable of. What started as an almost ridiculing gathering, all eyes staring intensely at the sole speaker, now mortified and pitiful in their looks, glancing uncomfortably at one another. The intense quiet feeling similar to that which brought the wondrous news of their brother being home, now stale and empty from the grim tale that was compacted into the slice of endless Hell that so crippled their brother.

Malthael had not once held eye contact with anyone through his entire story, his gaze cast to the floor and hardly bothering to get any of their responses. Finding it easier to not hear their reactions at all, carry on like nothing happened, however he knew, they all were far past that point when he spoke about the sickening evil that corrupted him in his time of illness.

Eyes soon shifted to Imperius, who in turn looked back at them, everyone's face looked heartbroken and lost. None of them knew how to respond. Not a single Arch knew what to do. They all had prepared themselves for some terrible things, yet the disgusting acts in which Diablo had carried out toward their very brother was absolutely foul in the kindest sense of the words. Any response at this point felt heartless and cynical even if they were spoken in the utter sweetest of tones. The feeling of sadness and hollowness soon eclipsed the room, practically rolling off of the poor Wisdom whose shoulders and wings were crumpled and twitched slightly, cast over the bedding or slumped over the crossed knees that held his overlapped forearms, obviously not taking the looming silence as a pleasant air. Seeming to almost fold in on himself as a means of escaping the situation.

The Death was feeling the prickling rise of tears welling up in his eyes. The emotional reaction was one he had experienced multiple times through his torture, yet at that moment it felt near suicidal worthy, it felt more atrocious then anything Diablo had put him through. This was the most torturous Hell to ever experience. The one where even the ones you so lavishly called your own kin, started to look at you with near hatred for the things you did, and deserved almost.

A warmth rubbed at his back smoothing over the joints that connected his wings to the cold armor, flinching, Malthael looked toward the Valor who was kneeling down next to him, openly trying to give him comfort. Even through the thick shadow that cast over his face, Mal could still see the soft, warming smile Imperius was giving him. Drawing tiny spirals on the violet energy that made the base of a wing, obvious in his gestures that he was telling the smaller they didn't hate him for what had happened, just that he was home. Something in Malthael finally cracking in that moment, as he lunged to clasp his arms around the larger, face hiding in the crook between helmet and shoulder piece. Tears freely rolling down his face and torso wracked with muted sobs, wings twitching randomly in the silence.

The sudden movement startled Imperius, hands frozen in mid-air, feeling the little twitches and hot tears seep in between the plates of his armor against his body. Recovering himself, he replaced his hands to hold the violet to him in comfort. Smiling softly letting Mal empty his grievances. The Hope and the Fate smiled sweetly at Imperius being so kindred toward their brother. The Justice however was about to jest ruefully at the Valor. Auriel and Itherael not changing a single structure in their faces both swung their arms to backhand the mortal Arch in the chest and stomach, silencing him immediately.

After a few moments passed, before Mal pulled himself away from Imperius rubbing his face with his hand. A soft hiccupping noise sounding from his throat, feeling the hot rush under his cheeks, tears still rolling slowly down his face. Still holding the smaller, Imperius looked at his tear streaked face, then to the remaining three Arches, one turned away and hunched over himself, Imperius looked back at Mal and speaking gently.

"Malthael, we do not hate you for the things that had occurred during your time of ill or the things that happened in Diablo's domain. All we care about, in this moment, is that you're home with us. And nothing that has happened will change the fact that we still care, that we will always care, and that we love you just as much as when we first met." Wrapping his giant arms around the violet feeling Malthael instinctively curling his arms across the back of the gold's torso as he continued his speech. "You are our brother and that is not going to change because of Diablo or any other evil to arise in this world."

"He's right, Malthael." Auriel chimed, having moved from her chair to wrap her own arms around the Death's middle, holding him more or less from the back. "We love you Malthael, the mistakes we make only help us in our triumphs. Yet the mistake we will never make is the one that involves never forgiving you. And I promise you that we would sooner all die by the Prime Evils combined wrath before we would ever commit such stupidity." Sealing her promise with nuzzling the back of his hood and giving a firm squeeze to his abdominal.

Another set of hands moved to the violet's shoulders, mindful of the injured one, Itherael didn't say anything but he did smile a little. Tyrael placed his hand on Mal's knee smiling as well, and speaking gentle. "We missed horribly brother, and we would all die from misery and despair if we were to lose you once more." Malthael couldn't hold back the tears, he had bathed in his own worry and woe. Filled himself up with anxiety for what his own mind built up. He honestly was terrified of telling them even if he seemed lackadaisical about it at first. He was scared. He was scared of his own family's reaction. Now he just felt stupid for his own mental self-abuse about something that was so simply false that he was mortified that he even thought of it.

Tiny tears lulled down his face onto the still shiny warmth that was Imperius, feeling his big arms holding him closely, feeling Auriel against the back of his head, Itherael's hands on his shoulders, and Tyrael's hand on his leg. He felt loved and missed, something he hadn't steeled himself for, not like he wanted to now. Feeling the warm beating in his chest and the bubbly butterflies tickling his insides, and the now neutering wetness of his own salty tears as a creation of apology and thankfulness.

"I love you all so much." He murmured, face splitting into a smile no one saw.

Imperius chuckled once, the nose ridge of his helmet brushing the Death's cheek. The warm feeling of having Malthael home finally rising in his chest. They were together again. Not just him and Malthael, but their family. They were all idiots at times, they all got angry at each other, they all could easily kill each other, and they all were a bunch of dumbasses who ran the Silver City without it imploding on itself, yet. (He honestly had to question who the moron was that decided to leave them in charge of anything, let alone a city.) However they loved and cared for one another, no matter how many times they fought, or argued, or disagreed, or all but killed each other, they would still care, they would all still worry, they'd be together till the end and nothing was stopping that. Even if Mal got sick again, or Auriel, or Itherael, or Imperius himself, nothing was changing that fact. And the words he knew they would all say to each other in the end no matter what.

You were sick, but my brother you will stay.

My freind, Neonculr, told me to have it so when Mal wakes up, he see's Imperius, gets scared, and quickly sits up resulting in them bonking heads together, "because it'd be so cute."
...Woman's a genius.
Anyway, Thank you DarkMirime for doing the fan comic for this story. This was for you!
I will have the link for the comic ...somewhere... as soon as the pages are released, so don't worry if you can't find them.
Comment if you want to see more and go check out Dark's gallery for more art, seriously, go look she's amazing!