Stating the Obvious: The following fanfic is a sequel to "Final Prophecy" (because, apparently, I can't quit these two).
Disclaimer: I have no right over the Prophecy franchise, the movies, the characters and whatnot. Nor am I versed in the mythology of the movies as a whole.
Author's Note: So, this chapter, hmmm...I had envisioned it one way and then when I started typing, well, it kind of got away from me. I have no idea where it's taking me at this point. I mean, I have an inkling as to how it's going to end (ah, it tugs the heartstrings), but the journey there? It's surprising even me, and that's saying something! I should also mention that on the 12th of July, I will be going on a trip back home (with my boyfriend and his mother, oh goodness), so I will be out for a whole week with limited access to the internet and might not be able to update for a while. Take that and the fact that I have acute sinusitis (again) isn't helping matters. I apologize for the wait, but hopefully, I can make it worth it!
Chapter 3. When Angels Descend
How can you expect more of me?
I come from chaos
Brought up in tragedy
"You Hurt the Ones You Love (I Don't Believe That)" Maria Mena
Allison is trying to wrap her head around the fact that, well, the past day and a half, they've been going at it like rabbits...now that she put her foot down about, well, needing to put her foot down rather than having her legs up in the air the whole time - or wrapped around his waist - it seems they're having...communication issues.
John hadn't really bought anything to cook during his time living there, though he did have fruits, which he enjoys quite a bit, and he had offered to buy a live chicken which he would be more than happy to decapitate and have her fix it into a meal.
"No," she had immediately responded, "I'd rather not be in charge of cooking the chicken after seeing you break its neck."
To which he had responded with, "Ripping a heart out of an angel, you have no trouble with, but killing a chicken, for the purpose of sustenance, that startles you?"
Allison had wanted a meal, something quick, so they opted for pizza, and Allison had been amused to discover John is a very bad tipper - luckily, she isn't.
As they shared the meal, the subject of occupations came up, and while John is doing very well with his chosen profession - and enjoys it, sadistically - being a professor of theology at a university with exclusive Catholic roots, Allison is not doing well enough...not in John's eyes.
"How exactly is my job trivial?" She narrows her eyes, daring him to continue his side of the argument.
"You're an accountant, Allison," he says, as that alone should be the only evidence needed as to why her job is trivial. "Granted, math is the key to the universe, but that particular brand of math is almost...undignified. You calculate the numbers based on someone else's expenses. Doesn't it make you feel like you're being paid a fragment of what your CEO receives from your work? Have you even met your CEO?"
Allison wants to throw him with the pizza slice, mushrooms and all, because, damn it, he has a point. John has always had a way with the truth, even if he is, by nature, a liar.
"I chose my profession," she says through gritted teeth, "not because it was important, life-altering or rich, but because it is quiet and peaceful. I don't have to interact with people, care about them or risk losing them. It is a job I can do well, and do it without anyone trying to get in my way."
"But it is not you," he argues, as-a-matter-of-factly, swishing his wine around, delicately, before touching the glass to his lips.
She gapes, "And what am I, John? A nephalim? Once that has lost nearly everything that matters, except her memories? Do you want me to work at a school again, to see you with a student, to remember the pain inflicted, what you're capable of-"
"You are weakening yourself by hiding," his eyes are firm, serious, but it's the tone of his voice that stops her cold. "Need I remind you when was it that I realized my feelings for you, Allison? It wasn't when you found the book, nor when you brought it to me, nor when you killed your brother," he smiles at how much that actually surprised him, "nor when you sought my assistance...no, then, you were only an intriguing little monkey, a means to an end, but it took much longer than that to realize what you meant...most mortals spend their entire life dreaming, running towards impossible goals, but running to them all the same. You? You spent your entire life shrouded in nightmares and yet...you never ran. You tried to pretend, to be normal, but you never once disappeared. You sought me out. You found me. I found you. Not in that order," he smiles. "And now, after my presumed death, you hide? Allison...you are so much better than that."
Allison doesn't know if it's because of his confession of love - the reminder of when and how - or how he touched too close to home - the past to her, so far away, but still screams at her from up close - or how he just made her feel like her life choice, after his death, has been such a letdown...she stands up and walks towards the door, getting her keys from the small table, in the foyer, and even though she hears him call after her - only once - she doesn't turn around.
She can't let him see his words still hurt.
No matter what he thinks he knows, she is better than that, and she will not just sit there and take it.
She won't.
John smiles for three reasons: one, the fact that he can rile her up so easily still amuses him - she's beautiful even when she's pissed. Two, he's lived longer than monkeys have had the privilege of existing and he knows these silly mortals don't love anything enough until they've fought for it, and with it, enough times to make their heads spin. And lastly, he is who he is, and pushing someone over the edge is what he does best, and in Allison's case, she needs it.
If they are to live the life he wants for them, he wants her to be blissfully happy. Not content, not satisfied in simplicity, but standing at the top of the world. She could be a lawyer, a judge, a professor, a teacher, a principal, a dean, a radical, anything that could unleash and exploit her potential, though knowing Allison, she'd be content with being a nun. He smirks - that profession wouldn't last long, not with him around.
"Careful, Lucifer, those thoughts might land you in a place that is no longer yours to reign."
Lucifer doesn't turn to look who spoke or who's standing behind him. He doesn't have to.
"Gabriel, to what do I owe this inconvenience?"
Gabriel walks towards his peripheral vision, but not quite in front of him. He's waiting for Lucifer to turn and meet his eyes. He will do no such thing.
"It's only been a day, already you're pushing her away. Tsk, not exactly what I call charming. So disappointing, considering how good you were with Eve."
Lucifer smiles, pretending he doesn't care about Gabriel's inquiries, but he does...it can only mean one thing.
"I did not request your services as a couple's counselor, Gabriel, and as such, there should be no reason for your commentary on how I conduct myself towards Allison." He finally turns his face, wishing to catch Gabriel off guard, to see some kind of reaction or sign as to what is going on - what are they plotting now? "Or is there a reason why you care?"
"She's interesting to you. Why shouldn't she be interesting to us?"
Us. The pronoun echoes in his head.
"I doubt your interest in her is the same as mine...or did you enjoy yesterday's show as much as I enjoyed performing it?"
"Oh, Lucifer," Gabriel smiles, walking closer towards the table, tapping his fingers over its length until he reaches the place where Allison had sat across from Lucifer. He takes the seat, almost theatrically, and crosses his legs, leaning back and placing a finger over his lip in thought. "Your return to this world is as much of a show...as mine was when you kicked me out of your domain."
He remembers that time. Gabriel is...well, he's trouble. In Heaven and in hell. He isn't a bad arch. Far from it, he is exceptional at what he does, however...he has certain attitude problems and, as devout as he claims to be towards his Lord and Master, he may, at times, steer away from the rules for the sake of what he may think is his Lord's vision. Then again, that only happened once. Well, twice. Lucifer only disobeyed once (well, maybe more than once) and he never once received forgiveness. Maybe that's why he and Gabriel never got along too well...otherwise, they're more alike than either of them would be willing to admit.
"Being as I am not privy as to why I've been sent back, I couldn't agree nor disagree. Care to share the reason of why He brought me back?" Lucifer leans forward, elbows on the table, chin over his hands which he joins together, fingers intertwined.
This makes Gabriel bark a laugh, "Now you're trying too hard. Lucifer," he leans forward, his eyes wide, the wrinkle around them showing too much amusement for John's liking. "The reason doesn't matter half as much as the consequences your actions may bring."
That breaks Lucifer's patience. One moment, he is sitting on his chair, calm, collected, the other moment he stands, flips the table to the side as if weighed nothing and moved towards Gabriel, placing each hand on the sides of the chair, "Enough. I may not be the fallen I once was, but I am a fallen all the same, and I will take pleasure in reminding Him of that fact."
Gabriel isn't laughing anymore, at least, his face is simply bemused, almost bored. He looks under his fingernails, "Consider yourself lucky, Lucifer. We're under strict orders not to touch you," that makes Lucifer raise an eyebrow. "We can't stop you, we can't hunt you, but no one said anything about annoying you."
"Clearly," Lucifer notes the obvious.
"And that should be a hint, Lucifer. We can't touch you. Allison is, tragically, off limits as of recently, though there is some interesting fine print as to other angels...your former brethren, to be exact."
That makes Lucifer tense. Being the Prince of Darkness had its perks; how many times did he have to keep his subjects away from his nephalim? Unlike God, he kept a tight leash on his subjects - no one touched her without paying the price.
"Are you as selfless as you seem, when it comes to her?"
"I gave my life for hers once, dying again would make no difference to me," he says, without much thought.
"No!" Now it's Gabriel's turn to stand, and Lucifer takes his arms away - he has no choice - but he does not take a step back, making the proximity between them a dangerous one. Gabriel is taller, by a margin, but this doesn't deter Lucifer - as if anything ever could. "You ripped my heart out once, Satan, and pulled me to your dirty little plane of existence that reeked of bitterness, and I am still alive. You knew you wouldn't die. You knew you would survive it. You may not have known your destination, but you knew it wasn't over. You sacrificed a title that became a burden, but you did not sacrifice your life."
Lucifer doesn't allow himself a moment to consider those words, he simply does the only thing he can do, at this point, to save face.
He smiles, a very naughty smile.
"So, is that what this is about?" After noticing Gabriel's mirthless face, "You came all this way to throw a fit at the fact that I ripped my own heart out, and because I had an inkling of the end result, you consider that...cheating? Why, Gabriel, I confess I'm not exactly Jesus Christ, but then again, why should I be when there is very little amusement in playing fair?"
"Don't let your pride blind you, Lucifer. Even you are not that kind of an idiot. You know that with Him, your behavior will not be as fun as you want it to be."
"Oh, right, the omnipotent; the one who knows all, sees all," he mocks. "Tell me, Gabriel, can your faith explain this? If He truly is as powerful as is believed, then why are we here? If you had the ability to know everything that has happened and will happen, would you continue the existence of so much suffering and pain, so much betrayal, even your betrayal? If he truly is all powerful, why does he act so helpless?"
Gabriel leans in, too close, whispering in Lucifer's ear, "You are very lucky that He has ordered us not to touch you or else you'd be spending the next century putting your limbs back together, you ungrateful, spoiled brat."
With that, Gabriel walks off, around Lucifer, careful not to touch him, looking at him as if he were infected somehow.
Lucifer's lips thin, no longer smiling, knowing Gabriel is about to disappear behind him, but he has to know - he has to know how is it he still believes - Lucifer doesn't. "You didn't answer my question, Gabriel. Why do you still believe?"
There is a moment of silence - Lucifer thinks Gabriel has gone, for a moment, but Gabriel's words are soft now, patient even, as if addressing a child. "Because, unlike you, I never saw myself equal to Him. I just didn't see them worthy of Him. He is better than us, better than all the monkeys combined, yet He doesn't believe that. He believes us to be His children, worthy of His love, patience and forgiveness - more than we could ever earn in a million lifetimes. He is not helpless," his voice takes a bemused turn as he pauses, "We are."
When Lucifer turns, Gabriel, and any trace left behind, has gone.
He closes his hand in a fist. If there is something Lucifer does not enjoy being is helpless - being told he's helpless by an arch no less, well, that just adds insult to injury.
When Allison finally arrives home, she's never been so relieved. Part of her feels like she left a big part of herself behind - after you spend so many lifetimes chasing a love that is clearly wrong for you, that tends to happen - but she functions all the same, walking up to her front porch, opening the door, only to hear the mewling of her cat.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I'm a horrible person," she bends over to scoop up the cat in her arms as soon as he lets her, though he struggles against it at first, but once he's a ball of white fur in her arms - and she has him in the right position, holding him like a baby, as she used to do when he was just a kitten - he simply meows and turns his head, then his body, until she has no choice but to let him go before she her arms pay the price.
She heads to the kitchen first and sees the cat's water bowl is almost empty. She tends to that first before opening a cat of tuna. Normally, she would feed him actual cat food, but right now, she has amends to make.
Allison finds comfort in the simplicity of doing this: caring for someone other than herself, focusing on those needs and thinking of nothing else, but it does not last long.
She's leaning on the island, in the kitchen, replaying John's conversation - his end of it, at least - and how much it bothered her.
He's right. She did run, she hid, but in her defense, she thought he was dead. After his death...she didn't want anything to do with any of it. No more angels or nephalims. She just wanted to be Allison. She just wanted to be at peace. She wanted, hoped, that if she led a good life, if she made amends and answered for her sins - John, mainly - that she could at least be forgiven, by God, and maybe, just maybe, he would be merciful enough to reunite her with him.
She'll never admit that to John, though. He'd probably mock her or say something equally insulting towards her faith, her hope, that maybe, just maybe, they can both be forgiven and somehow, it'll all be okay.
Even she finds the thought of it ridiculous.
How can God forgive her? Not only has she fallen in love with the damned - devil or not - but she's joined him in whatever they are now. She's never been strong enough to walk away - not for very long, at least.
Her attention is stolen by a purring cat and it makes her smile as she watches him move between her legs, around them, rubbing his fur against her skin.
"Lucifer, you spoiled brat, are you saying you missed me?" She says aloud, looking down at the cat, and she chuckles to herself, wondering what John would think once he finds out she has a cat - again - and that she named him after him, his true name, one she avoids using, unless...unless his behavior reminds her of it.
"Really, Allison, I'm hurt," the male voice behind her makes her jump. She turns around so fast that she's pretty sure she just got whiplash and probably needs to see a chiropractor. When her eyes find the source, her heart drops, her mind just stalls and she's not sure if she can even breathe.
"Simon." Her heart skips a beat, and another, until she has to breathe, and his smile, it's dazzling, and it reminds her of a time so long ago, when she saw him, barely, through the glare of the sun, like a mist, almost there but not quite.
She only saw him that one time, but she would never forget, and his voice...his voice had been her companion for so long - her torment.
"Precisely. My name is far more suitable for a cat than Lucifer," he continues to smile and it's only after she starts crying like an idiot that he moves away from her window and pulls her into an embrace.
He's real. He's not in her head anymore, he's not just a voice in the back of her mind, he's not just someone partly responsible for her parentage.
He's real.
And that brings forth the obvious question...she leans away from his embrace, but he doesn't let her go, his hands on her shoulders as he looks into her eyes, almost as if he's examining her, "Better?"
"Why...why are you here?" She sniffs, clearing the tears away with the back of her hand. She wants to trust him. She's always trusted him even before she knew who he was, but in light of her life and how it usually plays out when it comes to angels, she has to ask.
"Why am I always here?" He smiles at her as if she's being silly, "I've come to help, whether he likes it or not."
Allison doesn't have to be told who he means by "he". Suddenly, her stomach drops.
She has a feeling things are going to get far more interesting than she wants them to be.
Author's Afterwords: Yeah. Don't look at me like that. I'm as stumped as you are. Firstly, Gabriel wasn't the angel I envisioned visiting John. So, then, when he came in, it was just too good to turn him away. See, a lot of people that see the movies get the movies, which makes me all warm and fuzzy inside, but then some people don't and they think Gabriel is a villain. Um, no, not really. Not to me, at least. He's faithful to his faith, he just lost faith in humanity, and why shouldn't he? Yes, he did a few things he shouldn't have been doing, buuuuut if you think about it, he's still faithful to his doctrine (to a point...flexible, really), and for John to come back at him like that...ooooh, it just all snapped into place so well. Simon, though, eludes me. I didn't see him coming and now that he has, I'm as skeptical and concerned as Allison is -_- and as the writer, that's not a good thing. Well, hope you enjoyed it! Now excuse me while I go question my muse's sanity.