Total Words: 2,064

Characters/Pairings: Gadreel, Abner, Thaddeus; Hints of Gadreel/Abner

Warnings: Light gore

"It is easy to hate and it is difficult to love.

This is how the whole scheme of things works.

All good things are difficult to achieve;

And bad things are easy to get."

-Rene Descartes, French Mathematician

"Hey!" Abner screamed, pulling at the bars of blessed steel that kept him from the guard. "Leave him alone!" His voice cracked with desperation, his hands burning. "Take me!"

Gadreel turned to look back, smiling at Abner sadly, already defeated. The angel had been here far too long. Countless centuries had passed him by as he rotted in jail, either unnoticed or forgotten by most of the denizens of Heaven. He had once told Abner that he had absolutely no clue how many years he'd been here, that he had no idea which year it even was. Gadreel had talked about the time before Abner had arrived. There had been no one at all except for him and Thaddeus. When he had been dragged to jail a couple more guards had been made to guard the prison.

"Gadreel!" He cried, collapsing backwards, unable to stand any longer. Just two hours ago he'd been the one being marched to the dungeon to be ripped apart. His wounds were still healing, his weakened grace working overtime to fix the multitude of injuries. The footsteps faded.

Abner pushed himself back towards the cell wall with his feet. When the cool stone touched his bare back he winched, aggravating the gashes that littered his spine, a grim reminder of what Thaddeus could do. He knew that it wouldn't be long until he began to hear the familiar discord of his friend's scream.

Angels weren't made to face endless torture, you see. They were made to be soldiers and guards, yes, but not to be ripped apart daily at the hands of one of their brothers. When God had created the celestial beings, he hadn't even considered that they would have a reason to scream in pain, never mind actually needing to. Unlike almost everything else about angels, their screams weren't carefully designed. The sound was excruciating to any being that heard it. The sound of raw agony.

Abner still remembered when Thaddeus had been created. God had given him a job as soon as he'd opened his eyes, as was standard procedure with angels. He'd been named prison guard. Torturer. Abner hadn't thought about it much before he'd been dragged to jail. Gadreel had been the only prisoner back then.

Thaddeus had a few advantages over normal angels, you see. He, and a few others, had been made by God with one special improvement. The screeches of their charges wouldn't hurt them. They couldn't listen to them. Abner guessed this was why they were so ruthless. They couldn't tell, couldn't hear the damage that they were doing.

Abner gingerly pressed a growing bulge on his ribcage. Though he couldn't see it very well, he already knew what it was. A favorite concoction of Thaddeus's, an injection of Leviathan and demon blood, triggered the boils. Infected grace was gathering beneath the skin, and soon it would erupt, forcing the festering energy to explode from his flesh. Many more would be emerging as his grace worked to expel the foul brew.

The cyst burst underneath his fingers, expelling thin coils of pus green grace out. His more wholesome grace was a light, pleasant yellow. When it grew infected or damaged, it changed colour. The coils lingered for a moment in the air, seemingly hesitant, and then they floated off as if caught by the wind. Abner clutched a hand around the leaking wound, trying to squeeze out the rest of the diseased grace. Once he was sure it was all gone, he clasped his fingers over the injury, holding in the pure, uninfected grace.

A roar of pain startled him, making him jump a little. Gadreel. Thaddeus had finally begun. He'd probably started by cutting him with his words, telling Gadreel that no one loved him anymore, that all of his brothers and sister wished he were dead. Abner knew this because the torturer had told him the exact same things numerous times before. Gadreel had comforted him when he'd returned, promising him that he cared, that he valued his existence.

And now Gadreel would be faced with the physical torment Thaddeus was infamous for. One of the rumors Abner had heard about Thaddeus before he'd been captured was that he'd been sent to Hell to be taught by Alastair himself. He'd laughed at it then. An angel, learning from a demon? Absurd.

Now he wasn't so sure. Some of the methods he used were, well, truly demonic. No other angel had had this job before him, so where did he learn it all? Abner scrunched up his brow, considering something he'd never thought of before. Had Thaddeus experimented on Gadreel for eons until he'd improved? It was possible. He'd have to ask his cellmate when he returned. If he wanted to speak of it.

Speaking of returning, the session seemed to be running unusually long. Considering that there was an incredible lack of anything that measured time in the prison, Abner and Gadreel had developed an astonishing ability to keep track of the time. Well, in hours, that was. Days slipped by with little meaning, but with minutes and hours they could know exactly when the next session of torture would begin.

Was Gadreel okay? He obviously hadn't passed out; Abner could still hear his screams echo through the stone passageways. Just as he thought that, the jail fell silent. His ragged breathing was amplified, sounding as loud as a drum to him. Soon slow, methodical footsteps reverberated against the walls, revealing a sentry. He dragged a seemingly lifeless body behind him.

Gadreel.

A line of sticky black grace trailed behind the pair, leaking from his many wounds. Gadreel was the only angel Abner had ever seen with jet black grace. He'd seen some with dark grey grace, but never quite reaching black. He'd guessed a long time ago that it was a taint God had given him for failing his task, though he'd never dared ask about it. It was too personal. His own grace had darkened as well since he'd arrived, growing more greyish and ugly every day.

The door clanged open as the guard threw the unconscious angel in. As soon as his task was done he slammed the door shut and left, leaving the prisoners to take care of themselves.

Abner rushed forward, ignoring his own pain as he began to assess Gadreel's wounds. Thaddeus had ripped open huge slits around where his wings emerged from his back, nearly severing one of them. A deep stab wound leaked grace from his ribcage, and his legs were red and inflamed, almost charred in some places. It looked somewhat familiar.

The bastard had thrown holy fire on him!

He quickly set to mending the worst of the wounds with his crippled grace, making sure to never allow any of the infected material to leave his body and enter his friend's weakened system. The healing took a lot out of him, almost sending him into the land of nightmares with Gadreel. Luckily he remained conscious, though he felt a colossal migraine begin to assert itself.

Gadreel stirred, wincing even as he opened his eyes. He lifted his head up slightly to look at his friend. "Abner?" He croaked out, his throat parched. Abner raised a hand in greeting, too dizzy to respond. He was glad that Gadreel was feeling at least a bit better. It was more than he could hope for most times. He reached out a hand to continue treating him as Gadreel laid his head back down, exhausted by just the simple motion.

A rumble shook Heaven, scaring the two captives. Everything was deadly quiet for a moment until another shudder rocked the ground. The guards rushed around, yelling to anyone who listened, asking each other what had happened. The tremors slowly grew in strength and frequency, till there was no way to tell when one ended and another began.

Abner felt a something tug at him, as if something had grabbed his leg and was trying to pull him downwards. He met Gadreel's wide, frightened eyes. Clearly the same was happening to him, too. Was this some new, psychological torment? He glanced over to the rest of the prison.

All of the guards had disappeared, and in their places cracks littered the floor. Well, all except one. The last guard was huddled in a corner, sobbing. Abner frowned. Where had they all gone? And then a hole opened up below the only remaining sentry. He could just barely see the unfamiliar surface of a planet he assumed was Earth. Then the angel fell, screeching in agony as his very grace was separated from Heaven. The void neatly sealed itself back up.

"Abner." Gadreel whispered, his voice laced with fear. He looked back to see a gap had opened up beneath the elder angel. They only had time to lock eyes before Gadreel fell.

He hesitated for only a moment. He had to move before the chasm closed as the other had. Abner dove through the hole, jutting out his grace to locate Gadreel

Chaos dominated his field of view. Fibers of grace in every colour known to man escaped from their bounds, trying to return to Heaven without their masters. He passed by billions of fiery feathers, slowly floating downwards as they were burnt to ash. He had to find Gadreel.

His older wounds were seared shut by the atmosphere, new ones ripping open. He saw thousands of his siblings falling as well, some dropping faster than he was. A few were maintaining some control of their descent. Others he saw cease to exist. They just burned up, the sheer shock and pain too much. Some of them had their wings ripped off by the force of their fall.

The wingless angels screamed louder than the rest, until they exploded in a blinding flash of light. It was gruesome.

He had to find Gadreel. The one thought took control of his mind, pushing the agony aside to help him focus.

There. A few hundred feet below Abner, there he was. Gadreel was drawing nearer to another angel, one with grace as cold as steel.

Thaddeus. What was Gadreel trying to do? It seemed like he was purposefully angling himself towards their tormentor.

The realization hit Abner like a train. Gadreel was going to try to kill him.

He couldn't kill him! This was their chance at a new life, a life outside of granite walls. If Gadreel murdered Thaddeus, the other angels would have a reason to slaughter them, or worse, imprison them again.

Abner twisted himself so that he pointed towards Gadreel, and he spread his wings and pushed with all of his might. The feathers he had left were torn off, scattered in the wind. His wings were instantly scorched by the friction, quickly covering in blisters that oozed out grace.

But he was there in time, intercepting the sword Gadreel had been thrusting with his own flesh. The now-unarmed angel cried out in dismay. He'd just stabbed the only angel that had ever cared for him, the only one who had helped him in the millennia he'd spent being tortured daily.

Thaddeus continue to fall, too wrapped up in his own pain to notice what had almost happened. It was for the best. Gadreel grabbed Abner, holding the wounded angel close to his own body.

"I'm so sorry." Gadreel murmured, so quiet that even Abner couldn't hear him. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Abner.

Abner looked up at his friend for the last time. "Take advantage of this opportunity, Gadreel." He whispered, unsure if he could hear him. Gadreel opened up his eyes, looking at him in surprise. Abner burrowed his head into his chest, hiding his tears for a second before kicking his feet out against Gadreel's chest, forcefully shoving his friend away from him.

Gadreel's mouth formed an 'o' in alarm. He reached his arms out, grasping for his old companion as he flew backwards. Abner watched sadly for as long as he could as he continued his painful descent. His grace was torn from him, erupting into flames when it entered the atmosphere, a brilliant meteor to any humans who watched. He was Earthbound, and he knew he wouldn't be making any mistakes this time.

One life had ended.

Another one was just beginning.