Author's Note: Hello and welcome to chapter ten of "Rebirth". There's some much needed Audrey/Raphael mother/daughter bonding in this chapter, which I think is necessary after all the drama of the last installment. However, I assure you, the fluff will certainly not last. ;)
As always, I would like to thank all my fabulous readers and reviewers, Farren Ouro, saichick, PhotoMunky, burning blossom and Anii. I would also like to thank everyone who has added this story to their favorites/author alerts list so far. I do hope you enjoy this chapter!
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Legion.
Chapter Ten A Measure of Comfort
A couple of hours later, Audrey was tucked back into bed, a fresh cup of warm tea cradled in her hands and her aching shoulders supported by no less than three soft pillows. Raphael had gotten a fire going in the hearth in the living room and from her bed, Audrey could hear the quiet crackling of the logs, could smell the pungent perfume of woody smoke and charred ash. The storm had indeed come over the mountains, dropping a thick veil of grey over the daylight. The rain it brought was heavy and thin patterns of dribbling water soon formed on the windows. Audrey watched the trailing droplets, which to her, looked too much like tears.
And God, she absolutely hated all that poetic crap.
Taking a careful sip of her tea, she tried to enjoy the moment for what it was. Cozy. Quiet. Comforting. But somehow, she had aged in the last few hours and all those little distractions that were so pleasing to her senses seemed stale. Audrey was not comforted. No, she was far, far from comforted. Resting safe and warm in her bed, she attempted to wrap her mind around all that happened, tried to understand the anger and bitterness and their words, which had been so terribly shocking.
You are my wife. Our place is together.
Audrey took another drink of her tea, pressing her chilled fingertips against the new mug. She didn't know what to think, really. She didn't know what to think at all.
Perhaps, Audrey mused, the numbness itself wasn't so bad. When she was numb, she couldn't feel and when she couldn't feel, she didn't care. It was so much easier not to care, it was so much easier…
Couldn't she go back to being dead inside?
Probably not, Audrey told herself, thinking of Michael and how harsh he had been with Raphael, thinking of Gabriel, who really was a monster. She had to care now, whether she liked it or not. The proverbial Pandora's box had been opened and all sorts of ugly things had come flying out.
And Audrey knew she had to care, she knew she had to care because Raphael did.
The angel was currently crouched next to the bed, cleaning up the shards of the broken tea mug. The dry whisper of her whisk broom on the hardwood floor ruptured the otherwise benign silence that wrapped around the tiny cabin. Audrey glanced down at Raphael, saw her dark-haired head and the awkward way she held her wings and the small dustpan she maneuvered about, collecting the shards.
It was hard not to make the comparison, but she really thought the angel looked a bit like a pigeon cooing and strutting along some city sidewalk.
Audrey gulped her tea in order to cover her smile. Shit, it did feel good to smile again.
She felt as though she should say something to Raphael, although the moment wasn't exactly opportune. Ever since Michael and Gabriel had left, there had existed an unspoken truce between them. Audrey had given Raphael time to collect her thoughts and Raphael had given Audrey time to dry her tears and regain her composure. But now, the silence seemed exhausted, stretched to its breaking point.
Unfortunately, she did not know what to say, and without thinking, she let loose with the very first thing on her mind.
"Angels don't get married," Audrey said.
Raphael stopped her sweeping and looked up at her.
Audrey waited a minute and then said the second thing on her mind. "Please," she said, "please tell me that you're not really Gabriel's wife."
"Oh," Raphael said quietly and Audrey had a dreadful feeling that the angel was going to slip back into her usual, bumbling habits. The genuine warmth that had existed between them, the promise of some friendship and lasting bond, seemed like a weak memory to her now. She began to wonder if perhaps Raphael had only acted defensive in front of Gabriel and Michael. Perhaps, in truth, she really didn't give a rat's ass about Audrey. Perhaps she had only wanted to keep her patient with her because she knew it would piss off her husband.
You can take the girl, but that holds no bearing…it is of no consequence.
Raphael had said that, hadn't she? Audrey's heart sank, all the superficial comfort of the cozy room, the soft bed and the fire and the good cup of tea, left her. Her disenchantment was bitter and more potent than she ever thought it would be. Raphael probably didn't care for her…which meant that Audrey was completely alone in this.
But the angel surprised her yet, putting her poor faith to the test. With a quick movement, Raphael dumped the contents of her dustpan into a small garbage pail under the nightstand, a wry, half-smile giving her otherwise dull face some lively color.
"I do not wish to disappoint you," she said, "so perhaps I should not answer at all."
Audrey blinked, catching the mild humor in Raphael's voice. The angel's comments weren't even close to witty, but she could play off them. Audrey found a cheeky grin of her own. Her eyes twinkled as she stared at Raphael over her mug.
"I'm not disappointed, I'm just not sure I believe you," she said.
Raphael sighed, although the soft exhalation could have passed for a subdued laugh. She laid her broom and dustpan against the garbage pail, pushing up on her legs until she was out of her ungainly crouching position.
"May I sit?" she asked, gesturing at the bed.
Audrey looked doubtfully at the narrow mattress. "If you can fit without goring me with your wings."
"I shall try," Raphael said. There wasn't much promise in her voice.
Audrey knew that she herself couldn't scoot over, so she had to watch helplessly as Raphael attempted to perch on the bed. It took a few minutes for the angel to position herself properly and in the end, it was only the side of her right thigh that rested on the mattress, with her wings pointed safely towards the foot of the bed.
Audrey thought she must be very uncomfortable sitting like that, but Raphael didn't complain. She rarely seemed to complain.
"I suppose we ought to have a talk," she said, her hands splayed out on her lap. "You may think I have not paid any mind to your distress. You may think that I won't listen to you. But I will, Audrey. I want to listen to you…I want to help you. I heard what you said while Michael and Gabriel were here. You feel-"
"Put in the middle," Audrey contributed.
Raphael nodded. "And rightly so. This wasn't your choice. This wasn't your decision and that is unfair. Humans have free will. It is the gift our Father gave to you."
"You don't have to make things so complicated," Audrey said abruptly. She tried to tuck a strand of her tangled, unwashed hair behind her ear. The gesture was quick, jerky, not enough to disguise the inherent awkwardness she felt just then. It was strange, almost, realizing just how much Raphael understood her. Of course she was still bumbling. Of course she still seemed eternally bemused, but in that instant, Audrey had caught a glimmer of the ageless wisdom she had once recognized in Michael. Once….
"I just want to know what's going on," she said, trying desperately to cover for her own confusion. "That's all. That's it, really."
Raphael nodded. "I understand."
Silence stretched between them, disrupted only by the gentle patter of rain on the window and the low crackle of the fire Raphael had built in the living room hearth. Audrey drank the last of her tea, hoping to give the angel some time to decide what she wanted to say. But when Raphael remained quiet, she realized that the responsibility of broaching the subject had somehow been passed on to her.
As usual, Audrey thought. Fortunately, she was never one to be shy about things. In fact, her mother had often called her a bull in a china shop, trampling over everything and everyone until she had what she wanted.
Nonetheless, Audrey thought it would be best to restrain her careless tongue just then. They needed to ease into this conversation gently and she would have to be considerate. Respectful.
"All right," she said, rolling the still warm mug around in her palm, "I guess I want to know about you and Gabriel first. I'll admit, I don't know a lot about angels…except what they taught me in grammar school…but I never, ever heard of them getting married."
"Oh," Raphael repeated. When she nodded, Audrey had no choice but to continue on nervously.
"Remember that religion teacher I told you about?" she asked. "The one who was a real prick? Well, he used to talk about angels sometimes. He said what we saw in movies and on TV and in pictures wasn't, like, an accurate portrayal or something. He said angels were just messengers. He said they didn't really have to look like anything…that they didn't have to have wings or blond hair or wear white robes."
"I have wings," Raphael said and she seemed so earnest about it that Audrey had to smile.
"Yeah," she replied, taking in the sleek lines of Raphael's dark feathers. "But my teacher, he also said that angels weren't like us. They weren't like people…humans. Which means they don't have emotions, they don't feel like we feel. They're just…they're just like light. Formless. A presence, not an actual person. And so that's how I always thought of angels…not that I thought about them a lot. I never thought you'd be so-"
"Real?" Raphael offered.
"No." Audrey shook her head. "Like me."
Raphael considered her. Her expression, which was usually subdued, looked a bit more animated now, as if her argument with Gabriel and Michael had loosened her up somehow. Audrey thought she could actually catch a glimpse of what might have been a vibrant personality…beneath the sadness, of course. Beneath all the sadness.
And then she realized how wrong her prick of a religion teacher had been about so many, many things.
"You do feel, don't you?" she asked, a bit of uncertainty softening her voice. "You feel things just like I do. Sadness. Anger."
"Love," Raphael supplemented. "Yes, you are quite right. You're teacher, I'm afraid, was a bit off the mark. Angels are messengers, that is true. But we were also made to love, to feel emotion. Our Father wanted us to be compassionate, to care for your kind and for each other. And you must think of this, why would our Father teach us to love and then forbid the expression of love should it manifest itself? That would be cruel and our Father is not cruel."
"Yeah right," Audrey said before she could stop herself. She flinched when she finished speaking, knowing that her bull-in-the-china-shop tongue had probably led her right into trouble again.
Raphael, however, did not seem offended. "You say that now," she replied, "because you are ignorant. For so long you have eschewed God's love. You have avoided Him, Audrey. And you cannot understand the true measure of His mercy if you do not know Him."
"Nice homily," Audrey said, unable to shake her surliness.
Raphael bowed her head. "You asked me to explain and I am…I am trying, at least. Our Father loves us. Angels are as much His children as are men. He would not punish us, He would not condemn us for experiencing the gift He gave us. So yes, Audrey, angels can love and they can marry."
"And you," Audrey began, her voice fluttery, "and you and Gabriel-"
"Husband and wife," Raphael answered.
"Ugh." Audrey planted the heel of her palm against her head, which was beginning to throb again. The rain had picked up some and she thought she even heard a few droplets hissing through the chimney, spitting angrily at the fire.
"I'm sorry," she said, "but I just can't picture someone like Gabriel…married. Did you have to marry him? Was it, like, arranged?"
For the first time, Raphael appeared a little bit indignant. Her nostrils flared. "Certainly not," she said. "Have you been listening to anything I've told you?"
"Yeah, but-"
"Perhaps I should have made this clear from the very beginning," Raphael said. "I love Gabriel. He is my breath, he is my life. He encompasses all the secrets that remain in my soul. He is my most beloved spouse. I chose him freely and he chose me. It has always been that way. Or it was…" She trailed off, a sudden flush betraying some tortured emotion she had long repressed. Raphael swallowed once, then twice.
Audrey looked away, giving her a minute to compose herself. "So," she said, sucking in a breath even though her bruised ribs ached with each expansion of her lungs. "So," she repeated, "how long have you guys been married?"
Raphael seemed glad that Audrey was pressing forward with their conversation, even relieved, maybe. She ran her fingers over her red cheeks, trying in vain to dispel her blush. "Oh," she said. "For a long time. For a very long time. I cannot count the years."
"But was there a time before? I mean, was there ever a time when you weren't married?"
Raphael seemed wistful. "Yes," she said slowly. "There was a time."
Audrey had another thought then, one that she knew was vastly inappropriate. And her tongue nearly got ahead of her, fueled by her curiosity which had suddenly turned insatiable. But she stopped herself before she could speak. Raphael, she knew, would definitely not appreciate her obnoxiousness…or her nosiness. Instead, Audrey decided on a less intrusive question, one that probably wouldn't offend the fragile angel.
"Do you have any kids?" she asked, her phrasing light, off-hand.
She was surprised when Raphael glanced at her sadly. "Ah, children," she said. "I am afraid that procreation is designated for mankind alone. You must know that angels are made, not born, Audrey."
"So that means you can't have babies?"
"I assure you," Raphael replied. Her long fingers had tightened over her knees. "I am quite childless."
"Oh, okay," Audrey muttered. Her curiosity hadn't exactly been sated, but she knew not to press her luck. Besides, there seemed to be something else, something that lurked just underneath Raphael's plaintive façade that was real and raw and damaged. Audrey was reminded of what she had said to Michael earlier in the day about Raphael being a bit of a paradox, the healer who wore armor and carried a sword. It seemed unfair to make the angel act against her nature. Or perhaps, she wondered, Raphael wasn't being made to act against her nature, she was being denied it.
Sitting back on the pile of pillows, Audrey remembered how it felt when Raphael had put her arms around her that morning, how she had seemed so much like a mother then, a true mother…
Audrey fiddled with her mug, her fingers tracing the smooth curve of the handle. It was hard not to feel bad for Raphael and she didn't bother fighting her sympathy anymore.
"Am I annoying you?" she asked. "Am I bothering you by asking all these questions?"
Raphael tilted her head to the side, her expression puzzled. "Of course not," she said and the sprightliness had returned to face, coloring her eyes until Audrey knew she had been stupid to think that Raphael was dull. "I enjoy speaking with you. It makes me…it makes me feel not so alone, I suppose."
"Yeah," Audrey said, her throat growing perilously dry as unexpected emotion seized her. "Me too." She paused, hoping to regain her composure. "As long as were already knee-deep in this," she said after a minute, "can I ask you something else?"
Raphael nodded encouragingly.
"All right, what's Michael's deal in this whole thing?"
"Michael?"
"Yeah." Audrey ran her thumb over the rim of her mug, the residue of the tea sticking to her skin. "I asked him if you guys were related and he said not really, but that you were 'dear' to him."
Raphael blinked, her lips pinching together in what might have been dry amusement. "I would beg to differ, if only because he seems so opposed to me lately. But yes, Audrey, I am dear to Michael and he is dear to me…and to Gabriel. They were made first, of course. Michael and Gabriel. They call themselves brothers. Our Father made me third, but we were always together, from the very first moment…from the very first. It was that way, it was always that way and perhaps I am naïve, but I never thought it would change."
"And it has?" Audrey asked gently. She didn't particularly care for the sudden shift in Raphael's bearing, which had gone from erect to slumped over. It was sad to see someone look so defeated.
God, she thought, what the hell happened here?
She almost wanted to ask outright, but was again forced to curb her impulsive tongue. Instead, she did something she never thought she'd do. Recalling Raphael's embrace and the angel's complete willingness to comfort her bratty, unworthy little charge, Audrey reached forward as far as she could and placed her hand on her wrist.
Raphael flinched, but stayed still otherwise. An appreciative glint lightened the sorrowful cast of the angel's gaze. She looked at Audrey wordlessly and smiled.
Audrey's stomach squirmed, although the feeling wasn't exactly unpleasant. She felt as though she had done something good for the first time in a long while. Something utterly selfless. And it was due to Raphael's influence, she knew. It was all due to the grace of an angel.
"You know," she said, "when I was a kid, I had this friend. Her name was Sarah and we went to the same grammar school. We were best friends, I guess. We did all the things kids are supposed to do. Sleepovers, birthday parties. I used to hang out at her house all the time when my parents…when they were fighting and we'd sit by her pool and just talk about nonsense. I really loved Sarah, because she was almost like a sister. She always seemed to know what was going on with me and she made me feel better about all the crap in my life. We were close, we were really, really close up until high school. During our freshman year, Sarah met this other girl, Tanya and then Tanya started tagging along with us wherever we went. She was all right. I could deal with her…at first. But then it started to get to the point that Tanya and Sarah would go to the movies alone and not invite me and when I'd find out, which I always did, I'd just sit home crying. I mean, I tried to be friends with both of them, I really tried…but three isn't a good number. It just isn't, Raphael. You know what I mean?"
"Yes," the angel agreed, even though there was a certain hesitance to her tone. "I understand that, Audrey, but we are dear to each other. We always have been. I cannot remember a time…I wouldn't want to remember a moment when they were not with me." She paused, her breathing shaky. "They are dear to me," she repeated. "They are still so very dear to me."
Audrey kept her hand on Raphael's wrist, wondering if the angel could feel comforted by the simple touch of a sinful human. And she wondered if she dared to do what needed to be done next. If she even had the strength.
"Raphael," she said, starting off slowly, taking her time, "if they're so dear to you and you are so dear to them, why did Michal and Gabriel come in here this morning to hurt you?"
"They didn't-"
"Yes, they did. And they hurt you bad."
Raphael did not respond at once. She pressed her lips together and her trepidation was painful, a desperate sort of reluctance that made her appear vulnerable. "It is as Michael said," she answered after a long minute, "you happened to see us at our worst."
"And what about your husband? What about Gabriel?" Audrey accused. "Is that what your marriage is really like? Is he the monster I think he is?"
"No!" Raphael's denial was vehement, forceful. "No, no. He has never been so harsh with me. And I have never been so cruel to him. It took a long time for this to happen, I believe. The darkness was always waiting and I was wrong to put my faith in what could never last-"
"You're getting abstract again," Audrey warned, tugging on Raphael's wrist slightly to bring her back into the moment. "I don't understand where you are going with this."
"I apologize," Raphael said. "I do not mean to complicate things, especially when they are so simple. It happened this way, Audrey. I only asked one thing of Gabriel and Michael. I made them both swear that they would never quarrel…because they are dear to me and I would die…it would kill me if they did."
"As I recall, they were quite happy to kill each other," Audrey added. Disdain for the two male angels rose up within her. Their lack of mercy, even for themselves, was terrifying.
Raphael's head dropped. "Yes," she said, the tears in her voice obvious now. She was the wind and rain, the cold, lonesome wail of a broken, abandoned world.
Audrey gripped her tighter.
"Michael was ordered to kill the child, but he wouldn't obey," Raphael said. "Gabriel was ordered to stop him. And I begged them, I begged them both. I screamed and tore at my hair and threw myself at their feet. Michael wouldn't listen to me. That was expected. But Gabriel, Gabriel my husband…he would not listen to me either. I tried to stop them. I tried everything. And then I watched as it happened. I couldn't keep myself from watching."
Audrey grimaced, daunted by Raphael's pain. It was awful to see unrelenting weakness in a creature of such strength. The situation was pitiful. Unfair, really, considering how much Raphael seemed to love Michael and Gabriel…and how hard she had obviously tried to stop them.
But there was no easy solution to this, even Audrey knew that. Someone was destined to come out the loser. If Michael had listened to Raphael, then he probably would have blamed her for making him obey. If Gabriel had listened to Raphael, he might have blamed her for making him disobey. Everyone had lost, as far as Audrey was concerned and Raphael most of all.
She felt very ungenerous towards Michael and Gabriel. Didn't they realize? Didn't they see that Raphael had been put in the middle? But then Audrey remembered, she recalled how very merciless they were…
"Is this my fault?" she asked suddenly, eager almost, to take the blame for herself.
Raphael gaped at her. "I don't-"
"If I hadn't asked to stay with you," Audrey said, "if you just went home with them, then maybe things would be better. Maybe you would be able to forgive them and everything would go back to normal for you, instead of…instead of this." She gestured hopelessly at her shattered body, which Raphael had tried so hard to heal. God, she had tried so hard.
Raphael listened, her head still lowered, her face obscured by her messy mane of hair. She waited until Audrey had finished and then she lifted her hand off her wrist…and placed it between her palms.
The touch of her soft, warm skin on her knuckles made Audrey shiver. They truly were healing hands and she knew then that it was Raphael who could chase away the dark, who could shut the monsters back into the closest and take away the nightmare of her world.
"Little one," Raphael said and this time, Audrey found the sobriquet truly endearing. "You must be honest with me now. You can help me by telling the truth, no matter what it is. Do you wish to stay here? Is that what you truly want?"
"Yes," Audrey said without any hesitation.
Raphael seemed happy then, and perhaps a little relieved. It was hard to describe exactly what the angel looked like, although Audrey thought she was beautiful. Beautiful not like people were, but in an indefinable way, in the otherworldliness and celestial purity that came from her soul. No, Raphael might not have perfect blond hair or a Boticelli face or gleaming white robes, but there was a certain earnestness about her, a sincerity that made her, well, it made her angelic.
Audrey decided that her prick of a religion had been wrong, so wrong. This is what angels were supposed to look like. This.
Raphael kept her hands on Audrey's, her long fingers folded neatly over her palm. "You know this is not your fault," she said, "because I can tell you now, I want you to stay with me. It is what I was hoping for and the blame rests entirely with me." She paused before adding, "And them."
"Okay," Audrey said. "Okay."
They were quiet, but the world wasn't content to let them have peace. Fresh bouts of rain lashed the windows. The wind moaned in the chimney. A log split in the fireplace, infusing the air with the earthy scent of burnt wood and cinders.
Raphael shook her head, displacing the last wisps of their dream. Carefully, she slipped Audrey's hand out of hers and stood. The bed creaked.
"I think we can both agree," she said, "that your recovery needs to progress. It will be slow, I do not doubt, but you must try to have patience. And I will try…I will try." The angel glanced about distractedly, her usual bewilderment returning. "I've been thinking, we must find something for you to do."
"To do?" Audrey said skeptically. She couldn't help it, she looked down at her legs.
I'd like to dance, she thought, allowing a little self-pity to trickle into her heart. Damn, I so wanted to dance at my senior prom.
"Some humans like books," Raphael commented. "Others like music. Art-"
Art? The nimble little fingers on Audrey's left hand wrapped around her empty tea mug. She thought of the hidden sketch pad in her desk drawer at home, the thin cardboard box full of pencils.
"I like art," she said automatically. "I mean, I like to draw."
"To draw?"
"Sketch." Audrey waggled around her free hand, imitating a pencil. "You know, like with paper and pencils and stuff. But it doesn't have to be pencils. It can be crayons, for all I care."
Raphael looked uncertain, but then again, Audrey was beginning to realize that she always looked uncertain.
"Pencils," she repeated, her lips pushing out the word on a short exhalation. "Paper. I…I will try."
As always, Audrey thought. "That'd be great," she said. "Really, really great."
Raphael seemed perplexed by her enthusiasm as she turned towards the door. "Pencils," she said again. "Paper."
"Wait! One more thing!" Audrey called.
Raphael glanced over her shoulder, the bottom half of her face hidden by her huge wing. Audrey could only see her eyes. Her sad, sad eyes.
She swallowed, remembering the angel's advice. Patience. Patience.
"If it's not too much trouble," she said, shaking loose all the tangled strands of her hair. "I'd love a hairbrush too."
And she was thrilled, absolutely thrilled, when Raphael began to laugh.
Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! In chapter eleven, Raphael reflects on her marriage to Gabriel and their current, fractured relationship. Uriel arrives bearing some unusual gifts. The next installment is in the works and should be posted in roughly two weeks. Until then, take care and be well!