Category: Darksiders I & II
Rating: M
Couples: Azrael/?
Warnings: AU, Yaoi, Character Death, Lemon, Blood
Chapter:2
Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me
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War blinked a couple times, only slowly making the mental connection between his brother in front of him and the dead angel on the ground. Returning Chaoseater back to its' place on his back, he moved past the Gunner to kneel at Azrael's side.
"Can you fix this?" The Red Rider looked at his eldest brother while his fingertips gently touched the single bullet-hole between the white eyes. "Make it so one does not see the wound?"
"Why?" Despite the question, Death slowly joined his white-haired sibling, leaning down to do as he asked.
"Heaven does not know what he did. The Charred Council does not know." Careful not to break the fragile skin, War closed the angel's eyes. "This shall be his mercy: they will never know of his part in the End War. Abaddon will shoulder it alone." He summoned Ruin, managing to get onto the flaming horse while cradling the corpse against his chest.
"You better clean the blood though." Fury's horse appeared beside her with a flick of her wrist. "They'll know something happened if they see it."
"There is water nearby." Supporting Azrael with his golem-arm, he rearranged the robes as best as he could.
"And how will you explain the fact he is dead to begin with?" Strife pulled up to his brother as they crossed the threshold into the caverns.
"I'll think of something." War looked at the face resting against his pauldron. With the wound and eyes closed, one could almost think the angel looked peaceful. Well, aside from the blood. "All this could have been prevented. Just a fucking note to Abaddon: 'hey, we know what you are planning' and BAM!" The Nephilim snarled in anger. "All these dead and all this suffering would not have happened." He gently shifted the scholar, making sure the long feathers would not drag over the ground.
"We will have words about that, no doubt." Death stated, his voice being flat. He steered Despair ahead of Ruin, looking back on the angel on the flaming steed's back. "This scheme of theirs has cost Creation entirely too much, not even considering the loss of the Watcher of the Well."
War grunted in agreement. "Completely unnecessary."
He slowed down when they reached the water. "We'll have to go to the 'Broken Stair', it's the only spot where angels are. They will hopefully help us find Uriel..."
"If they still are there." Fury pointed out, helping him clean Azrael of the blood. "Considering what just happened, they might as well be heading back to the White City."
"Uriel would first fetch her wounded." The Firstborn stood watch, combing idly with his fingers through Despair's mane. "So we still have some time before they do that."
"So we are seriously heading through this demon-infested city with a corpse?" Strife muttered darkly. "This is going to be fun."
"Strife." Death warned the short-haired male sharply.
"Hey, I am still around, aren't I?" The White Rider sneered.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
They weren't there anymore, only a few Wicked remaining underneath the broken street.
"You and Strife stay here." Death told War, looking out over the ashen place. "I and Fury will go look for angels." He looked over at the angel the youngest Rider was still holding. "We should not be long."
"Alright." War steered Ruin to a broken building nearby, Strife following after a bit.
The Gunner staid outside, pulling one of his guns as the Red Rider headed inside. Death and Fury rode off after a short while, leaving the two brothers behind.
Inside the building, War carefully put Azrael down before moving several of the unsmashed tables together so he could rest the angel on them. Hardly an appropriate resting-place for the scholar, but he couldn't do better.
