Chapter 10: The Healer

A light wind blew through a stately room bathed in sunlight that cascaded through two open ceiling-to-floor French doors. The doors led out to a small terrace that overlooked a wide unpaved town square. The brightness was in stark contrast to the dark earth tones that adorned the space. Mostly antique furniture, including large wooden bookshelves against one wall and a carved mahogany desk in the middle of the room, made it seem as if the space were misplaced in time. As if the room belonged elsewhere. Long hunter-green drapes hung in front of the available windows that decorated both sides of the office. Ornately decorated chairs were placed before the desk and a larger one was behind it.

And in that chair sat a tall being that shook with anger. One hand gripped the edge of the desk while his whole body sat rigidly in place, back straight, legs poised. His eyes were glazed over as if he were looking off into a great distance and his medium full lips were set in a scowl. "I can hear it! Fluttering!" he blurted out into the empty open space. He gripped the table harder, almost on the verge of breaking the edge of it as he continued to stare at nothing.

A light knock could be heard at the door and then it opened and closed quickly, quietly announcing Azrael as she slipped into the room, still wearing her uniform and fully armed. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail and she looked hurried, only to slow to a halt in front of the desk. Without speaking, she tilted her head, studying the regal one as he continued to look through her as if she wasn't there. He didn't move, nor did he acknowledge her appearance.

Knowing better than to interrupt him, Azrael kept quiet and fell into a soldier's rest stance, hands clasped lightly behind her. She was used to waiting after all this time, keeping vigilance over those around her, especially this one, even as she drilled soldiers and acted as a second-in-command in New Delphi. She could be patient a little longer.

She watched him as he struggled with his composure and wondered how long he had been in the trance. He was dressed in his casual uniform of all black, including tight black cargo pants, black long-sleeved shirt under a black vest with shiny grey scrolling filigree in its design, topped off with a silken black tie and black utility boots that had probably seen better days. His black worn-out leather jacket hung over one of the chairs as did his red-edged Kevlar vest that he wore for appearances when he left the office. It had his red sigil on the front of it; a powerful sigil, a visual aid to keep the others in line. Being the Max Crew Boss of New Delphi took a lot of work and bloodshed, Azrael knew from first-hand experience.

All so that they could bring order to the chaos and mutiny that once threatened to tear apart the remaining humans in the settlement. And to ultimately save their lives, even if it meant saving them from themselves. The small skirmishes that occurred occasionally were nothing compared to the all-out war that was brewing between the rebels, drug users and one particular large crew of cutthroats. People were being slaughtered and kidnapped, and dying from severe poverty, disease, or overdoses. There was no real order to New Delphi's society, no rules and no infrastructure. And there was no hope unless you belonged to a crew or a rebel group. But that required payments in kind; either services rendered or some other way to pay for their "family hospitality."

And then the Max Crew Boss of the strongest cutthroats at the time discovered that he could ensure his position by hooking everyone on a new drug called The Slip. If you were Slipping, you were probably sitting in a corner staring into space as your mind rushed off to another more pleasant place. The drug was highly addictive and decayed the body rather quickly. Azrael had seen enough humans slowly disappear into the Slip Off, where a human's mind could no longer readjust to this reality, permanently disappearing into their own thoughts and desires. For some it was bliss, for others it was torture.

Azrael remained frozen and unblinking much like a statue as she waited and remembered some of the atrocities that she had witnessed when she first infiltrated her way into the settlement. She had helped several humans pass over during that time. Before she found him. Before she found out his plan and decided to aid him in it. Michael had Vega to deal with and Azrael had been scouting New Delphi to report back to Helena, although that hadn't gone as planned. Clearly.

Azrael blinked and then allowed herself to sigh. The last few years had not gone as she had planned. And seeing Michael had brought all of her own desires back to the forefront – something she had quashed a long time ago. She shifted her weight for a moment, readjusting a sword and then settled back into her stance, gazing past the being in front of her to the long broad sword mounted on the wall behind him. It gleamed as usual and was a reminder of his ability to smite those around him. A reminder of his archangel status, even if no one else really knew of his true nature. It seemed to aid him in their quest to bring some order to the settlement. She focused back on the attractive powerful male in front of her.

His sandy light-brown medium-length hair fluttered in the light breeze that blew through the room, and then he blinked, jerking in his seat for moment as if he suddenly came back to himself. His hand remained gripping the table as he refocused and then realization came over him as he looked up at Azrael. Letting go of the table, he immediately stood up, anger still etched across his face. Growling, he spat, "She's carrying the Chosen One's child!"

Azrael tilted her head. "Who is?"

He glared at Azrael, yelling, "You told me Uriel was in Helena! Why is she in Vega with Evelyn? What is she doing there?"

"Uriel has her own agenda, as you know, Raphael. I've told you that she's playing a different game."

Raphael let out a sigh of exasperation, pausing as he composed himself, staring at her. "The Lady of the City is pregnant. And I have to assume that Gabriel already knows this, if Uriel knows this. But why is Evelyn in Vega?"

She didn't move, unfazed by his unblinking stare. "The Chosen One's child? Uriel will surely be vying for control over it. But Evelyn is looking for more resources. We've been over this."

Raphael didn't move, mulling something over. And then he snapped, slamming his fist into the desk, which resulted in the dark wood cracking in the middle, splintering across and making the entire thing shudder with instability.

Azrael didn't flinch, hands still clasped behind her, watching his outburst with almost no interest. It wasn't the first time the Healer Archangel had lost it in his foray into the human world.

"What is the point of all of this?" Raphael rasped as he ran his fingers through his hair and again tried to rein himself in. "And where is Michael? Have you found him yet? I want to end this charade!" He paused, looking past the open French doors, out at the bright light that bathed everything. Sighing, he said quietly, "I miss Home, Azrael."

Shifting, she tried to contain her own emotions that suddenly flared up at the mention of their world of light. "I do, too."

"You haven't found him yet?" Raphael smoothed his vest and calmly sat down in his chair again, ignoring the broken desk in front of him.

"Not yet. I will. And he will help us. I'm sure of it," she said evenly. Telling him about Michael was not something she was ready to do. Michael wasn't ready yet, and she knew it.

"And the Chosen One? What of him? Still with Gabriel?"

"So my sources tell me." Azrael responded, quietly, watching as the archangel transitioned back into the unfazed Max Crew Boss. He often portrayed himself as a flippant sarcastic mercenary and Azrael acted as his right hand. Both came off as ruthless whenever possible. But in private, she had seen him as his usual compassionate self, as the angel who wanted to save and heal everyone and then retreat back to the Light. It was the part of him that he only showed her and those he healed. It was how they slowly had turned things around in the settlement and she admired him for his ability to switch between the two extremes. It was his plan after all, to help these humans, keep them from the brink of extinction. And he'd do it with the bluntness of a sword if need be.

"And no progress with His words on his skin?" Raphael folded his hands in his lap as he studied the dark-haired angel in front of him.

"It appears not."

"Seems Gabriel has other plans," he contemplated. "It makes sense now why the Chosen One went to the aerie. He is saving his progeny and Vega from Gabriel. Gabriel probably threatened him. What plan could he possibly have if he already has Alex Lannon?"

"Why don't you possess Gabriel and see for yourself?" Azrael treaded lightly in this subject, but she didn't like that he had started this quest once more. Years ago, Raphael had attempted possession in order to gain more information on Gabriel. His justification had been "to aid Michael." But he gave up on it once he realized how difficult it would be to try to possess a higher angel. Technically, it was probable that most of the archangels could possess a lower angel, if they had the inclination to do so. But to possess a higher angel was much more…invasive. And disturbing for both the possessor and the possessed.

He glared at her, "You know that I can not. And will not."

"So you draw the line at Uriel?" Azrael broached, her own ire now flaring up. "Why not find Michael in this manner?"

He looked stricken and abashed. "I do not enjoy possession, and you know that! I have only done so with Uriel because she and I were close once and we have a connection."

"And what else have you learned from possessing your twin's form?"

Raphael stood up again, his royal-blue eyes blazing. "I've learned enough! Do not start down this path again, Azrael! We do what we must in order to move forward in this ridiculous war! We are all here at the mercy of this human world and there is nothing we can do about it! Father has abandoned all of us!" He pounded once more on the broken desk, this time it collapsed completely, falling to the floor in a splintered mess.

Standing there, the archangel heaved deeply, his hands balled into fists.

And then he looked at Azrael and found that she now had both of her swords out, splayed open and ready for any attack. Raphael shook his head for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he stood straighter and unclenched his fists.

And then he smirked at his friend, defusing the situation. "Really? The swords?"

A flash of surprise crossed Azrael's face as she glanced down and realized what she had done. She hadn't even noticed that she had pulled them out.

"You really gonna fight me with swords, Azrael?" he teased, using an exaggerated sarcastic tone, often the tone that he would use when dealing with people as the Max Crew Boss.

Recovering quickly, Azrael gave him a dirty look as she relaxed her stature.

A loud knock at the door interrupted them.

"Max Boss, I've got Will Zail here to see you." A voice hesitantly penetrated the door.

Raphael gave Azrael a snide side-glance while he walked around the mess and put on his Kevlar vest. It made his broad-shouldered tall physique even more intimidating.

Azrael quickly holstered her swords and took a soldier's stance nearby, face schooled and stoic once more as Raphael smoothed his long sleeves and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Bring him in," Raphael commanded, smirking slightly.

The door opened and a soldier stepped in, holding the door open for none other than William Whele. Dressed in faded jeans, grey shirt and a brown bomber jacket, Vega's former Principate looked like he had assimilated into New Delphi's less-than-savory societal norms. His dark hair was cropped so short that it was almost spikey and he was sporting a few bruises, including one on his jawline and a fading one under his left eye. He probably had seen better days.

Walking into the office, William Whele, now known only as Will Zail, still seemed to radiate confidence and authority. Standing in front of Raphael, he waited for the soldier to close the door behind him before speaking.

Raphael smirk was gone, studying the man. Azrael remained still like a statue.

"Why are you here, Zail? Have you come to join the Oracle Corps?" Raphael asked.

William shifted his weight. "No, Max Boss. As I'm sure you know, I would not be suited for the Oracle Corps."

"Then we have no business here, and you can go." Raphael turned away from the man and strode over to his chair, plopping himself down, feigning nonchalance, although Aztrael could see the tension in his movements.

William took a step after him, but then stopped as he noticed a slight shift in Azrael's stance. He swallowed, ignoring all the warning bells in his head. Focusing back on Raphael, William spoke up, "I came here for another matter, Max Boss."

Raphael sighed with exaggeration and then motioned to him to continue. Azrael tried not to roll her eyes.

William spoke to Raphael from across the room. "I have…we are in need of your…expertise. You know that my small group has only banded together out of necessity, and that our neutrality is tentative at best these days? Well, one of our members was taken from us a few days ago by the Delphi Alliance. She was returned to us this morning, beaten and broken. But worst of all, she has fallen into the Slip Off."

Azrael shifted as Raphael hissed, "Another one?"

"Another one, Max Boss?"

"The Delphi Alliance has been testing the waters, Zail. You know that they are the last of the major crews in this settlement. Oracle Corps has been keeping watch." Raphael paused, studying the human. "Was there something else?"

William swallowed again. Asking the ruthless Max Boss for anything could be detrimental to his health, as well those in his little group that he had cobbled together. It consisted of a group of outsiders who didn't belong to Oracle Corps or Delphi Alliance. There were only a few small groups like his in the settlement and they only existed by the grace of this ruthless leader who somehow kept Delphi Alliance from completely slaughtering them all.

In the past, those that operated outside of the confines of the crews often benefited by this neutrality, playing off the crews and buying and selling to anyone. But since Oracle Corps. grew and took over, William was told by those that had been living there for years that so many things had changed. He was just glad that he had something to belong to again. It had taken him a few weeks to finally be included and then naturally rose to being a leader. And now the one woman that he had taken a liking to in this bastard place had been kidnapped, beaten and hooked on some ridiculous drug.

With balled fists, William calmly asked with a slight angry tremor in his voice, "I was told that you could reverse the effects of the Slip Off. I've come here to request for your assistance, Max Boss."

Raphael stared at him, not moving for a moment. It was hard to discern what he was thinking. He looked more angry than pensive. And then he stood up, quickly walking up to William and roughly grabbing him by jacket. "And you're sure that it was the Delphi Alliance?"

"Yes! It was them!"

Raphael tightened his grip on William's jacket. "If you're lying, Zail, I will end you."

Azrael snorted.

Raphael shot her a glare, but William was shaking. Shaking with anger more than fear. He yanked away from the archangel, taking a step back and spat out, "I'm not lying. They took her! They have been taking others! They're doing something to people for no reason! And what has the Oracle Corps done? Nothing!"

Raphael stepped closer to the human, standing at his full height, which towered over William. The imposing nature of his height and the glare that he turned on William made the human rethink his own anger.

"The Oracle Corps has been saving your little group from being completely disintegrated and yet you show no gratitude with your arrogance and your preaching of a better life with faith and worshipping." Raphael said in an eerily calm and even tone.

William's mouth fell open in surprise. "How did you…"

"I'm well aware of your recruiting sessions. Searching for those who want to join your little group of worshippers. Using the myth of the Chosen One to take advantage of people is just as questionable as the other practices in New Delphi. So don't you dare take a righteous tone with me!"

William closed his mouth, trying not to look too relieved. It was clear that the Max Boss had no idea that he was actually recruiting for Gabriel, not for the worship of the Chosen One. This meant William had been successful in flying just under the radar. It made him almost smile, but he tried for meek instead. "I'm sorry, Max Boss. I'm just…the woman that was taken…she is…I care for her. I will pay and I will be of service to you, if you want or need me to be. In exchange for your cure."

Azrael glanced at the archangel. She wanted to shake her head and interrupt him before he agreed to help the human. Raphael had healed enough people in this settlement.

Raphael glared down at William who now wouldn't look him in the eye. The archangel hesitated. Healing still came easy to him, but the Slip Off was more complicated than a typical healing of a wound. It took more effort to bring back a human's mind as opposed to knitting together sliced flesh. And to do a Healing with no witnesses became increasingly harder to do. If word got out that it was his own abilities that healed these people, most likely his archangel status would also be revealed. And so far, he had been able to keep that under wraps.

"I beg of you, Max Boss," William almost whispered as he looked up at the imposing angel and noticed how fierce his face looked.

And then Raphael blinked, smirked at him and roughly clapped him on the shoulder, almost sending the human to the floor. "Bring her here this evening. Only she may enter this room, and you can wait downstairs. No one else. And then…" Raphael paused, smiling largely. "And then, you will do a few things for me. I have a few errands that need to be taken care of. A few that only someone like you can take care of."

William nodded, "Ok. Yes! It's a deal then?" He put out his hand to shake on it.

Raphael ignored it and walked back to his chair and sat down, lounging back as if he were relaxing on a lawn chair. He dismissed him with a nod. "This evening."

William nodded and then turned to leave. Azrael was suddenly standing there with a stoic expression, holding the door open for him. The human shuddered slightly and then left the room with Azrael closing the door behind him.

Walking over to Raphael, Azrael paused in front of the destroyed desk. Raphael looked pensive, tapping his chin absently.

"Delphi Alliance has now violated our truce three times in the last two weeks." Azrael stated without emotion.

"It seems so." Raphael said, staring at nothing as the wheels turned in his head.

"I know you're avoiding bloodshed."

"I am."

"And if that doesn't work?" Azrael asked.

"Not everything needs to be solved by a sword, Azrael." Raphael said, quietly.

She nodded, more to herself. As much as the others thought she enjoyed solving everything in that manner, she actually preferred less messier methods. It just happened to be that she was quite good at the other option.

Raphael looked at the dark-haired angel, again standing in a soldier's stance. He often wondered if that just felt natural to her, or if she had adopted that mannerism from the years of being in New Delphi as the General of Oracle Corps. Taking the last step and dismantling Delphi Alliance would take another war, which was what he was trying to avoid. Only in the last year had he been able to gain some stability in New Delphi, especially after the fall of Channa's crew. Having another war would make them lose more lives. Again.

He sighed. "Maybe the sword is the only way in this settlement."

"More like the gun." Azrael cracked a smile.

Ignoring her, he stated, "Either way they die." Raphael shook his head, leaning his elbows on his knees and making a steeple with his fingers.

"If Gabriel has his way, they will all die eventually."

"Gabriel and his grand plans. Killing everyone will not bring Him back. And if he did, it would only anger Him." He paused, thinking. "Where is He?" Raphael said quietly, more to himself.

Azrael's smile disappeared and she shifted her swords as she took a seat across from him. She stared at him. "You need to stop that, Raphael."

"Stop what, Azrael? Wonder where the fuck our creator disappeared to? Why our Home is disappearing? Why we're stuck here trying to help creatures that don't want to be helped?" Raphael spat, his ire again roiling underneath.

Azrael said in an even calming tone, "It's not productive, Raphael. This life you've created for yourself…for us…you're doing His work. You're trying. Just…"

"Just WHAT?" Raphael's pained face stared back at her.

They were silent for a moment. Azrael understood his pain. She felt the same way, but she refused to dwell on it. It didn't serve her so she put it in a box, which was something she was good at doing. It was the only way she was able to help people cross over… or force them to. Compartmentalization worked on many levels for her.

"Go find Michael, damn it! Find him! Now! We need him," Raphael said in a dark tone.

Arzael studied her partner in all of this chaos. Bringing Michael here might cause even more upheaval, but she knew Raphael was running out of ideas and so was she.

Standing abruptly, she adjusted her swords and stood at attention like a good soldier. In a deadpan sarcastic tone, she said, "Ok, Max Boss. On it, Max Boss. Anything else, Max Boss?"

He threw her a disgusted look as he leaned back in the chair. "Don't do that."

Azrael's face was stoic as she looked at him for a moment. When she opened her mouth, her tone was even and scarily calm. "Don't make me remind you, Raphael."

He sighed, bowing his head in acquiescence. She had a point. The longer he played this role, the easier it was to slip into demanding obedience from others. And then the violence involved when pretending to be a merciless mercenary… well that was scarily intoxicating. But Raphael didn't have to worry too much. Azrael would gladly beat the behavior out of him, as she had done once in the past.

The warrior angel stared at him for a moment longer and then didn't say anything more as she walked away from him, quietly leaving through the door and leaving him to contemplate their next move.

~~~**D**~~~

Author's Note: Apologies for such delays between chapters. Life and NaNoWriMo prep have gotten in the way. There will be more Michael soon, and more in general soon! I promise!