"The Price We Pay"

Michael sucked in a deep breath. He was annoyed. They had been locked up for several hours now and Gabriel hadn't stopped pacing and huffing. He just couldn't be still. His shoes squeaked against the floor. Michael's patience snapped.

"Can you stop? You're driving me…."

The sound of gunfire interrupted him. They turned towards the metal door. There was a loud thud, as though a body had been thrown against it, followed by muffled yelling. There was an electronic click and the door swung open. A bloodied eight-ball stumbled in, followed by two men.

"Let them out," one of the men said.

He hit the eight-ball in the back with the butt of his gun. The other man stood by the door, keeping a watchful eye on their way out. The eight-ball staggered forward. It went to Michael's cage first. It fumbled with the locks for several seconds before the door unsealed and slid open with a sigh. Michael strode out. His shoulders ached from having his arms shackled behind him for so long, but he refused to let his discomfort show.

"The other one too," the man told the eight-ball.

It snarled at him but complied.

"Come here, Michael."

Michael approached the man.

"Sgt. Ethan Mack, right? You're Archangel Corps."

"Yes sir. I'm friends with Alex and Noma. Or at least I was, before they started gallivanting around with you." Sgt. Mack grimaced. He hadn't meant to say that.

Michael nodded in understanding. The past twenty-five years had taken a lot from everyone, sometimes in unexpected ways.

"Turn around," said Sgt. Mack.

He put a hand on Michael's left shoulder and used the other to pull out the stake. He did the same thing on the other side. There was a strangled screech from across the room as the eight-ball launched itself at Gabriel, now freed from his cage. They fell to the floor in a heap. Sgt. Mack smoothly unholstered his gun, pointed it at the pair, and put a bullet in the eight-ball's head. He reholstered his gun, never once batting an eye.

"Dan, help Gabriel."

The man at the door sized up Gabriel, running a hand over his buzz cut gray hair.

"Come along, old man. I'm not going to hurt you."

Dan marched over to Gabriel and spun him around. He began pulling out the stakes.

"I'm not old. I'm experienced," Dan said.

Sgt. Mack chuckled. He was glad the older man had come with him. He pulled out a key from a pocket and undid Michael's shackles.

"I was part of the team that arrested David Whele," he told them as way of explanation. He tossed the key to Dan.

Michael slowly rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms. He really wanted to let out his wings, but he waited. He needed to let the wounds caused by the stakes heal first. It would only take a few minutes. Already he could feel the muscle restiching itself. It itched, but not as bad as regrowing skin. That was a nightmare.

"Sgt., brief me. What's the situation?" Michael ordered.

"Eight-balls have completely overrun the city. Survivors are too scattered to mount a defense. There was an announcement from General Riesen, had to have been nearly ten hours ago, the sun is up now, to bring him Alex. But something tells me it wasn't really the General speaking."

"That's correct. He is possessed."

"That confirms what we were told," said Dan.

"Your orders, sir?" Sgt. Mack asked.

"The eight-balls do not listen to either of us," said Michael, gesturing to himself and Gabriel. "We must eliminate the leader. Then we will gather survivors and send out teams to sweep the city."

"When you say 'the leader,' you mean General Riesen?" said Sgt. Mack.

"I'm afraid so." Michael put a hand on Sgt. Mack's arm. "It will be doing him a kindness," he finished gently.

"Alright, let's move out," said Sgt. Mack. He led the way. He paused once they left the room. "You should grab those guns," he told the Archangels, pointing to the floor.

Michael knelt and pried loose two guns from dead eight-balls' hands. He gave one to Gabriel.

"So uncivilized," muttered Gabriel. He took the gun anyway.

The group kept moving, catching each other up on the events of the past few weeks as they travelled.

"Who are you?" asked Michael, glancing at the older man.

"Danilo Terrinetto. Sgt. here got me and a few others to safety, but I couldn't let this young'in go off saving the day without me. I've still got some fight left." His eyes twinkled. "Used to work for the mafia. I was muscle. You needed somebody whacked, I was your guy. After I fulfilled my contract, I ran security for casinos. Been here ever since."

"You've had quite the life," commented Sgt. Mack.

"Better than a desk job."

They didn't speak anymore until they reached the tower. The Archangel brothers glanced at each other and nodded in silent agreement.

"Okay kids, time to go up. Well, kid and old man," smirked Gabriel.

Each brother gripped one of the humans, unfurled their wings, and powered upward. They were on the opposite side of Riesen tower from where they had met Dyad Riesen last time. There were balconies on the upper floors. They landed with a small thud. Dan ran a hand over his short hair and grumbled something about "pushy angels." Gabriel grinned. Sgt. Mack turned the handle on the glass doors, but they were locked. He knocked out some of the glass and reached through to unlock the door from the inside.

"It's been a while since I was on detail here, but I think I remember my way around. Follow me," he said.

They crept through rooms and down hallways. The Archangels kept their wings out. The humans were careful not to get too close. They did not meet any resistance on the upper floors. It took ten minutes to creep to the other side of the building and down seven floors to where Michael and Gabriel had least seen Dyad Riesen. They had two more floors to go when they encountered a group of eight-balls. Michael took the lead, deftly dodging wild punches. He spread out his wings as much as he could in the hallway, blocking the others' view and keeping the eight-balls from getting behind him. Instead of using the gun, Michael tucked it into his waistband. Whenever an eight-ball got close, he reached out and snapped its neck. The eight-balls weren't smart, coming after Michael even after he killed some of them. Michael's method was silent, but effective.

Once finished, he called over his shoulder, "This way." He was familiar with this section of the tower.

Sgt. Mack and Dan followed him, Gabriel pulling up the rear in case they were attacked from behind. Sgt. Mack was glad the Archangels were helping, but he didn't like having Gabriel behind him. It made his insides squirm.

They met three more groups of eight-balls before they got near Dyad Riesen. Each time, Michael eliminated the threat. They gathered in a room a few doors down from where Dyad Riesen was. They could hear him boasting of his victory to the eight-balls with him. Sgt. Mack stood guard just inside the door.

"What's the plan? How are we going to pop this guy?" asked Dan.

"There is a secret entrance to that room, concealed by a bookcase. The two of you will enter through there while Gabriel and I go in through the front."

"Wouldn't it be better if you snuck in?" asked Sgt. Mack.

"No," answered Gabriel. "He may not know about you yet. However, he expects us to attack. We will draw their attention. Once they are focused on us, you will enter and start shooting immediately."

"You might get hit," Dan said.

"Our wings will shield us," said Gabriel, giving his wings a light shake.

Dan nodded thoughtfully. He was reminded of his mafia days. The Feds had never caught him because his plans always involved carefully thought-out layers of deception.

Michael walked over to the wall and pressed against it. A rectangular section depressed and slid to the left.

"Follow this passageway for thirty-seven yards. You'll notice a change along the wall. The bookcase is on hinges. Just push. Wait until you hear us talking. We don't want to tip our hand too soon."

Sgt. Mack and Dan entered the passageway and Michael shut the hidden door.

"Well, it should be easy to walk thirty-seven yards in the pitch black," Sgt. Mack said sarcastically.

Dan grabbed his arm.

"I've got this."

Michael and Gabriel cautiously approached the room Dyad Riesen was in. They hadn't seen any more eight-balls for several minutes and worried some might come from behind them after they were in the room. They paused outside the double doors, listening. They couldn't hear Dyad Riesen anymore, but there were at least twenty eight-balls laughing and talking. Judging by the occasional crash, there must have been some fighting too. The brothers looked at each other in affirmation. Instead of busting down the doors and causing a commotion, they walked in calmly, wings retracted, and waited for the eight-balls to notice them. Immediately, they saw a problem.

Sgt. Mack and Dan were nearly to the bookcase when something made Dan pull them to a stop. He felt uneasy, like he did when the Feds were closing in.

"Trap," he said.

They started to back up but hit something warm and solid. There was someone behind them.

"I must applaud your effort," a voice said in front of them. "Bring them."

Light spilled into the dark passageway as the bookcase was swung open. Dyad Riesen stepped into the room, followed by Sgt. Mack and Dan. They were held tightly by two eight-balls. A third drifted behind them.

The Archangels stood motionless. Every eight-ball had a gun and was pointing it at the humans. When Michael saw the defiance in their eyes, his chest swelled with pride. They really were extraordinary creatures, humans. Sometimes they wore their emotions openly and acted on impulse, a lot like Gabriel. Other times, humans were logical, giving each action careful thought, much like Michael. He envied them. Anytime he acted out on impulse, he suffered for weeks, like he had after discovering higher angels had been experimented on in Vega. He suspected Gabriel felt the same way whenever he tried to be logical. Michael nearly laughed out loud at the thought of a logical Gabriel. As it was, he did smile.

Dyad Riesen studied the Archangels curiously. He leaned against a table, fingers rubbing against the smooth wood. Michael's smile turned his curiosity into rage.

"Do you think this is a game, Michael? Fine then. Let's play. One will be killed, the other possessed." He pointed to the humans. "Decide their fates."

Michael frowned. Sgt. Mack and Dan had risked themselves for him. He had to find a way to save them, but if he moved, they would all die. He racked his brain. There had to be a way. Death was bad, but possession was worse. That was it. Maybe he couldn't do anything, but Gabriel could. Michael covered his face with his hands and slumped his shoulders in defeat. He seemed to fold in on himself.

"I don't know," he moaned. As quietly as he could, voice muffled further by his hands, he whispered to Gabriel, "Possess Riesen." He hoped Gabriel heard him. He had to be quiet enough for the sensitive eight-ball/Dyad hearing to not pick up his words.

"This is impossible," Gabriel said.

Michael knew it was meant for him.

"Please," he begged, falling to his knees.

The eight-balls laughed at his weakness. Gabriel glared at them, waves of anger radiating from him. He dropped to Michael's side. He put an arm around him protectively and turned his back to the room.

"I can't possess two at once," he murmured.

"Try. Don't make me decide."

He sighed and helped Michael stand up. If anyone else had asked this of him, he would have refused, but he could never deny Michael, at least not for long, a couple lifetimes maybe. The possessions he did required focus and patience, two things Gabriel was not known for. He closed his eyes and tuned out everyone but Dyad Riesen. He relaxed his body and entered a trance-like state, trusting Michael to take care of him if something were to happen.

"Tick tock, Michael," Dyad Riesen said.

Gabriel held on to the sound of Riesen's voice and expanded his mind. He was swimming along the edge of consciousness, soft black surrounding him. He searched for the shadowy cord that would take him to the lower angel. He focused on the human General Riesen too, the man who had defeated an Archangel. Gabriel was still a bit sore over that loss. He found General Riesen's cord, an earthy red-brown, intertwined with the shadowy cord of the lower angel Duma. Gabriel felt for the end of his cord and sent it out to connect with the other two. He shivered internally when he saw that his cord, usually a dazzling kaleidoscope of colors, was beginning to fade. Unlike the other times, his cord would not connect. He figured it must be because he was trying to possess two souls. He studied the cords, wondering what made connecting with them different. Then he saw it. The ends of the cords were still separated. He would have to connect with both simultaneously. Gabriel again focused on his own cord, tracing it to its end. He sucked in a ragged breath, his concentration nearly breaking. He hadn't been this scared since Father's disappearance. Very carefully, he began to partially unravel his cord into two pieces. He felt a split in his mind. It was like there was a replica of him, a shadow, floating alongside him. He could even feel his essence in the shadow-him. With his cord partially split, he tried connecting to General/Dyad Riesen again. This time, the split ends of his cord connected to theirs. The cords were direct lines to the soul and mind. To possess someone, Gabriel had to force his mind and soul on them. If he was stronger, it would take. Even split, he was. The colors of his cord rushed along the other two as he took control. Soon, their cords looked like his.

Michael's fake fear was becoming real. He had continued to act beaten, begging for Dyad Riesen to spare the humans. He even suggested turning both into eight-balls in an effort to buy time for Gabriel. He flicked his eyes to his brother, too quick for anyone to notice. At first, Gabriel's breathing had been slow, but steady. Michael had guessed he was in a meditative state. But, when Gabriel's breathing had become strangled, Michael nearly lost it. He would kill Sgt. Mack and Dan himself and tear down the city if it meant keeping Gabriel safe. There were no lengths he wouldn't go to protect his brother. He was nearly ready to destroy the place when Gabriel's breathing evened out. It had been nearly three minutes since they had entered the room.

"Very well, Michael. They will both become eight-balls. Take them downstairs." Dyad Riesen waved idly towards the humans.

Michael noticed the slight shift in Dyad Riesen's speech pattern, but doubted anyone else did. Sgt. Mack and Dan were taken from the room. They struggled against their captors. As he passed, Sgt. Mack gave Michael a questioning look. Michael shook his head slightly. Sgt. Mack understood. Don't say anything.

"Put down your weapons. We will not harm our family," said Dyad Riesen.

Some of the eight-balls turned towards him, confused. Michael pulled out his gun and reached over to grab Gabriel's too. He darted through the room, shooting with perfect accuracy. He remembered watching a movie with Alex. Both having the time and access to the technology to watch television was rare. Alex loved the Matrix movies. Michael chuckled to himself. He was way cooler than Neo.

While Michael was busy with the eight-balls, Gabriel was fighting his own battle. He had been able to communicate with General Riesen, not in words, but images and emotions. The General had made it clear he would rather die than continue letting his body be used while he was trapped in his own mind. Despite their differences, Gabriel respected General Riesen and wanted to help him. He would either expel Duma, or damage the body beyond the lower angel's ability to repair. He turned his attention to the lower angel, letting General Riesen's presence drift to the background. He tried to force his will on Duma and push him out. But, with his strength split in two, it was challenging. He couldn't disconnect from General Riesen without losing both. Duma was strong for a lower angel and fought back. Gabriel felt the pressure against his mind. It had been the same when he had possessed higher angels. They too had fought back. With only half his power directed at the lower angel, he had to focus even more. Through Riesen's eyes, he saw Michael finish off the last of the eight-balls and dart from the room. He pushed against Duma harder, reminding the lower angel who he was dealing with. Slowly, the shadowy cord of the lower angel's and General Riesen's red-brown cord began to unwind from each other.

General Riesen couldn't believe he existed beside such powerful beings. When he had opened himself to Duma and felt the angel's soul spread through him, he had felt insignificant. Now that he was sharing his body with Gabriel too, he knew he had been wrong. Compared to the lower angel, he was weaker, yes, but not insignificant. Compared to the Archangel, he was a speck of dust beside a mountain. Gabriel's presence was all-consuming. His mind was so foreign. It was an expanse so large, no human could comprehend it. The influx of power had nearly fractured General Riesen's mortal soul. It would have if Gabriel wasn't focusing more on the lower angel.

General Riesen felt a subtle shift and realized Gabriel was forcing the lower angel out. He threw his mental weight against Duma too. He had done this before during the brief moments he had been in control of his body. He had never been able to completely push the lower angel out though. He hoped that with Gabriel's help, he would be able to get past that final hurdle.

Together they forced Duma out. General Riesen felt hollow and cold, not his body, but his soul. He feared a part of him had been lost, either when he first shared his body, or as a result of Duma's expulsion. Gabriel still possessed him. There was nothing he could do. He stood no chance against the Archangel. He felt a light pressure against his mind. Gabriel was asking for permission to communicate with him. General Riesen was curious. Before, Gabriel had burst through his mental barriers. He opened his mind more fully. Warmth spread through him, filling the hollow spaces and chasing away the cold. He sent out a wave of gratitude as Gabriel's presence slipped away.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Michael, face taunt with worry.

Stop that," said Gabriel, reaching for one of Michael's hands. "You clench your fists when you're worried."

"I do not."

Michael leaned forward and gave his brother a quick hug before turning to General Riesen. Sgt. Mack and Dan had returned with Michael and were pointing guns at the General.

"It's alright. He is himself," Gabriel said.

General Riesen walked toward him and clasped his hands in his own.

"Thank you. Thank you." The General's voice was thick with emotion.

Gabriel smiled gently, for once looking like a benevolent angel. General Riesen turned around and took in the death that surrounded them. His eyes scanned the room, stopping at the far corner. His face crumpled. He took a few hesitant steps before running over. He collapsed to the floor and pulled his daughter's body into his arms. He shook from his sobs. The others left the room to give him some privacy.

Five minutes later, he came out. He wiped away the last of his tears and addressed the others.

"Your swords are being kept in a room on the first floor, beside the dining hall," he told the Archangels. "Do you remember where that is?"

Michael nodded. He turned to Sgt. Mack. "Fill him in on the plan." He and Gabriel began to leave.

"Michael," called General Riesen. "Whele is there too. Last I saw him, he was in rough shape."

Michael nodded once as he and his brother left. They found the room with their swords easily enough, and there in the back, bound by ropes and gagged, was David Whele. Blood dripped from a gash above his left eye. His clothes were torn and stained with blood and mud.

"Do we have to?" whined Gabriel.

Michael punched him lightly on the arm, a teasing smile on his face. He strapped on his swords and walked up to Whele. As he removed the ropes, Whele's eyes flicked open. He gazed blearily at Michael. He only kept his eyes open a second more before closing them and tilting his head back with a groan. Michael finished removing the ropes and pulled out the cloth gagging Whele. He looped one of Whele's arms over his shoulder and put an arm around his waist. Whele couldn't stand on his own and leaned heavily on Michael. They followed Gabriel back to the others, Whele grunting every few steps.

Dan was waiting for them when they returned. "We moved to a different room. This way," he said.

Once at their new meeting place, Michael gently deposited David Whele on a cushioned armchair. He waved Sgt. Mack over.

"Check him for injuries."

All or Vega's soldiers had basic first aid training.

"Michael," said General Riesen. "Where is Alex?"

Michael stared at the elaborate rug beneath his feet. "Gone."

"But we will bring him back," Gabriel said, walking to his brother's side.

"Why should we trust you, either of you?" said Whele.

He struggled to his feet. He swayed, but stayed upright. He staggered over to Gabriel and stood inches away from him.

"I lost my son because of you. You poisoned him with your promises." Whele paused for a moment. He seemed to fight with himself, unsure if he should continue. "He loved you more than me, and now he is gone," he finished quietly. He dropped his gaze from the Archangel's and took a couple steps back.

"He loved you and feared me. He followed me because he knew it would get your attention." Gabriel turned his focus to Sgt. Mack. "Sgt., let's go form those teams." He began to leave with the Sgt. in tow.

"You didn't answer me," said Whele. "Why should we trust you?"

Gabriel stopped and turned back to Whele.

"Michael loves Alex and I love Michael. Trust that."


Alex groaned as he came to. His stone prison was still lit by flames. He looked around and saw Noma asleep, sitting on the floor against the wall beside him. He stretched out a leg to nudge her.

"Noma, wake up," he whispered.

She hummed and tilted her head up to look at him.

"Hey you. You've been asleep for hours," she said.

"Noma, where are we?" He continued to whisper.

Noma laughed. "Alex, you don't have to whisper. He will still hear you." She stood and stretched.

"Who are you talking about?"

She walked to the end of the room and gazed into a rectangular stone tub. Alex heard the gentle lapping of water and craned his neck to see inside.

"Him, my eldest brother," she answered.

Alex stifled a scream as a body floated to the surface.

"What the Hell?" Alex gasped.

"Not Hell per say, but close enough," said the deep rich male voice Alex had heard when last he was conscious. "I am the Son of Morning, the first angel. I am Lucifer."

His melodious voice hung in the air. Alex began to relax. How could anything with a voice so beautiful be dangerous? It was like honey and chocolate with a hint of heat. It wrapped around him and soothed the worries running through his mind. Alex forgot about Michael. He forgot about Noma's betrayal. He forgot about Claire and his unborn child. Everything slipped away, leaving him in bliss. Almost. There was still one worry that persisted. Alex couldn't quite place it, but he held on to it tightly. The one thing he knew for sure, if he gave in to the voice, he would die.


Thank you to everyone who has faved, followed, and reviewed. You guys are awesome! I plan to post a new chapter once a week, so as long as I can stay ahead writing, you won't have to wait too long.

On a side note, here are some interesting facts about names used in the show: Dyad means consisting of two parts. Duma is the ruling assembly of Russia (like Congress for those of you who live in the U.S.) I think that name worked well for the direction I took, seeing as Duma wanted to rule Vega. Why do you think Mr. Vaun Wilmott and the writers choose that name? Hopefully we will someday find out.

Anyway, what do you think of chapter two? I would love any feedback.