Layers

Chapter Twenty Four

By: Brenli and Jael

He had a list of places that he intended to check, and by check, he meant storm into... and the interrogation room was first. Things had grown so sour between Michael and Uriel, he wouldn't have doubted if the giant of an Angel might have left him a damn note, mocking him, lording power over him. The very idea of it made the ire flare so hot within him that when the door handle briefly stuck with his aggressive turning, he kicked the door before bursting through it.

Michael hadn't expected Uriel to actually, physically be there. It made the heels of his boots skid hard against the ground, and the only reason he didn't break into loud curses was because he felt her hands. Nema's hands, planting against his shoulder blades to keep herself from crashing into his body. He'd been so forgetful... he hadn't remembered how something as simple as her touch had a way of tempering him. It was just enough to make him grumble instead of scream. "Where is she?" Green eyes darted about. The traitor was nowhere near them...

"Not here." Uriel's voice was calm, cool and sharp like a steel blade. He sat in the same damn chair that Michael had left Celestiel cuffed to. Sitting with a casual slack in his shoulders, legs crossed, hands resting gently on his knee. The cuffs were sitting, open and useless on the floor by his feet. His position in her chair, his posture, the thinly veiled fury on his placid face... every bit of it flaunted the fact that Celestiel was nowhere near them. He had taken her, and he wasn't the least bit sorry about it. "I have to wonder why you're in such a hurry to get to her." He said acidly, his molten green eyes briefly glancing at Nema. Glancing, not really acknowledging that she was freshly resurrected... not caring. "You got what you wanted out of her."

Michael appreciated nothing of Uriel's tone, of the way he turned his jade-hard glance upon Nema. It made him immediately shield her as he snapped, "Why the fuck do you think I'm in a hurry to get to her?"

A snowy pale hand circled around and touched his heart, and it was enough to suddenly silence him. Nema gently moved around him partway. "She needs to be accountable for what she attempted to do, Uriel." She hadn't been revived for long, and she was sure that it showed in how her voice strained. It had been too long since she'd spoken.

"She will be. I have put her in a place where she can't harm anyone. And where YOU can't harm her."

"Are you fucking kidding me, Uriel?" Michael hissed. "That's your answer? Locking her up in your fucking fantasy forest?" It was enough to make him want to set the Earth Angel on fire...!

Yet Nema laid her hand over his heart once more, and he fell silent, letting the upset build within him. She didn't look at him. She didn't need to. "Is that fair and... lawful, Uriel? You know she should be put on trial." Any other person, and Nema was sure Uriel would have agreed. But this wasn't about any other person…

Nema's attempts to reach through the determined shell that Uriel had put himself in fell flat and useless. The room felt like it was shrinking, and even as Uriel sat in a chair, he seemed to tower over Michael and Nema with all of his calm ferocity. "I'm not going to discuss what is 'fair'. Not with you. The two of you may have forgotten, but I will happily remind you that I am Heaven's High Judge. Me. I decide what's 'fair'."

"Fuck you, Uriel!" The anger burst out of him in a sharp rush. "Far as I'm concerned, you don't get a say because apparently you're a pussy whipped piece of shit!" He felt Nema's fingers curl against his chest in silence, her nails scratching at him. But the damage was done; the words were out, and Michael felt them so succinctly that it was impossible to feel sorry for saying it. He couldn't help that it was true, that Uriel was a biased party. He had to have known that... which meant that Uriel didn't care. It only set him on edge all over, again.

Uriel stood up from the chair and smoothed out his jacket. "Your concern doesn't mean a thing to me, Michael. I am not debating this. I only have one thing left to say to you... Chiyo, Aaron and June are moving to Japan to live with Doll and Katou. And if I hear about you so much as breathing in their direction...? You'll be as good as dead." Uriel's chilly expression suddenly became heated… frightening. "And I'll make sure your soul is trapped in the Crucible for the rest of eternity."

Michael gave him a rude scoff. "As if I give a shit about her fucking kids!"

Nema's hand fell away from Michael's chest as she took another step forward, and then another. Once, Setsuna had described to her, in vivid detail, the man he had encountered when he journeyed into Hades. A terrifying force of pure rage and violent power. A man he could only defeat by shattering the mask over his face, a mask that hid away his humanity. Nema had never believed that man, the Angel of the Dead, and Uriel were the same person. It never quite fit. Uriel had always seemed so gentle; even when he lost himself in the bottom of alcohol bottles, he was gentle. But this moment made her believe that Uriel was in fact the man Setsuna had described. That if pushed too hard, Uriel could be truly savage.

She put herself directly in front of Michael, like the filter he needed between himself and his fellow Elemental Angel. "Uriel, we don't want to go after her children; they don't have any part in this. You know it. We know it..." She didn't bother to hide the tiredness, the hurt. Why would he even begin to accuse them of targeting Serissa's, Celestiel's, three children...? Why was that so easy for him to assume?

"Nema, when you were dead, I watched Michael murder a man without a 'fair trial'. A man who turned out to be innocent of the crimes Michael accused him of. I, frankly, have no idea what he's capable of, and I'm not willing to gamble the wellbeing of Celestiel's children to find out." Uriel straightened his cravat. "As far as I'm concerned, Michael, your actions were completely unforgivable... and Celestiel is right." Uriel cast Michael a look of pure disapproval… of pure loathing. "You deserve to be punished for all the things you have done, but I'm not going to let Celestiel sacrifice her soul just to be the one who does it." He frowns. "You'll get what's coming to you... someday. But we'll not have any part of it." A part of Uriel knew just how much those words would sting. Michael could handle any fight the world threw at him… but Uriel wasn't quite sure how he would handle being told that he wasn't worth fighting. Like a child throwing a tantrum, the best punishment was to simply walk away.

Michael opened his mouth, ready to snap and yell, but he stopped when it was suddenly Nema who spoke in sharp tones. Her body was slight and pale, but she held herself with all the outraged dignity of a Queen, of a revolutionary hero, of the woman who was the heart of the War Angel. "Michael may be a lot of things, but he's not going to slay those children! He knows they have literally no part in Celestiel's plan! And you know Azrael is another matter because Azrael claimed responsibility! He wanted to take the fall! He pushed Michael to that point!"

"Go ahead and do whatever it takes to ease your own conscience. We all know you have before." Uriel's stomach lurched slightly when those words slipped from his mouth. It was the truth, and it needed to be said, but a part of him instantly regretted his bluntness. But he said nothing to take it back… He couldn't afford to be weak. Not when Celestiel's life was at stake. The best thing was to alienate Michael and Nema as much as he possibly could.

He could see Nema's stance shift back onto her heels, as though Uriel's words had hit her hard enough to push her back... And Michael didn't need to see her face to know it was full of shock. Full of hurt... Her hands balled into tight, white fists before uncurling in silence, and it reminded him of too many times she came home from frustrating government meetings. The same stance. The same quietness. Trying to look unaffected, when he knew that all she wanted to do was scream...

So he began to scream for her, filling her silence with his rage. Fighting for her when she couldn't do it, herself. "Say that again and I will fucking punch a crater into your face, Uriel! You can take your high and mighty act and shove it up your ass! Nema and I don't want to waste our time with her fucking kids, what we want is her!"

"Then spend your lives being sorely disappointed. Because you're not coming near her, ever again." Uriel's cold gaze wavered slightly, and he looked away from them for a brief moment, to collect himself. "The two of you should know better than anybody just what a broken heart can do to a person…" He looked at them again, the previous hardness of his eyes had softened. "How it can twist them up and make them do stupid things. I know Celestiel. I know her heart, and I can see that it's broken. She deserves patience, understanding… and love. And all you want to do is crucify her." He cleared his dry throat and straightened his shoulders. "So I'm taking her to a place where nobody can harm her. Not even you two. From this day forward, I am closing the borders of Hades. Nobody living will ever cross its gates again. I don't expect you two to understand… or forgive me. But I'm not budging on this. It would be best if you just put it out of your minds, and moved on with your lives."

The moment Uriel was gone, the very second Nema was sure they weren't going to be crossing paths with him, she marched off in silent rage, her high heeled boots stabbing at the ground... And Michael hated seeing her like this. She shouldn't have been so unhappy, so soon after coming back to life... "Fucking forget hi-"

"I have to pack."

The four words made him feel like he was bleeding out, again. "... Nema-"

"The sooner we're out of that mansion, the better." Her words were clipped and hard, chains restraining everything that truly needed to be said. "I'm going now."

"We're going now."

"... If that's what you want."

Michael hated, hated talking in whatever messed up code this was supposed to be...! The frustration made him reach out, grab her hand, snap in exasperation, "Nema, I'm fucking tired of-"

But she tore her hand away from his. "Not now!" Her eyes were as sharp as newly-cut rubies, illuminating her anger. Her pain. So many indefinable things. "Michael. Not now."

He saw the way her released fingers rubbed against each other, subconsciously searching for the wedding ring that hung with his dog tags and glinted at her. He tried not to read into such an action. "Later."

She gave him a barely-perceived nod before continuing on her way. He knew that was the best he could ask for.

xXxXxXx

"... Heard you all are gonna be living with Katou." This was the third time he'd said it, though it wasn't any easier. June had always been rather shy, and so saying goodbye to her had been quick and awkward. Bidding Aaron farewell was a bit more difficult... even if he was the son of the woman who killed his mother. Who killed him.

Nathan chose not to address that, when saying goodbye to the Assiahbound Vampire children. They happily complied with ignoring the looming subject of why he and his family were packing up and leaving. Why they were leaving their own home for a country and a couple they knew nothing about...

Chiyo hugged her knees a little closer, and her jaw clenched slightly. Her tired and bloodshot red eyes looked away from Nathan. "Yeah," was her short and cantankerous reply, cutting the air between them like a knife wound. The poor girl had lost everything... The woman she loved as a mother. The one who raised her. The two Vampire children she regarded as a sister and a brother were packing their things to leave the only real loving home they had ever known...

Neither June nor Aaron had taken that kind of tone with him, and his immediate wish was to bite back his own short reply. But his Ma was always telling him to be good with his temper. He wanted to try, for once in his short little life. He wondered if everyone who nearly died or who just plain died felt the same. Became so very... aware of their lives. "Hey... Katou's cool." He dared to move closer to her. "I don't really get to see 'em much... 'Cause they're all down here in Assiah and all. But he's cool, he's funny. And Doll's real nice, and makes some of the best cookies ever. Even better than Ma's." He attempted at a joke. "But Ma can't know that." His smile was crooked and unsure.

Chiyo finally turned her gaze back to Nathan, only to drown out his reassurances with her shrill reply. "I don't give a shit about your mother's cookies. Now get the Hell away from me!" She pinned him hard with those eyes, letting all of her rage spill wordlessly at him, her mouth quivering with all the things she wanted to scream at him.

Nathan jumped, and wide red eyes became thin slits in his face."I'm just saying...!" He had to be defensive, he had to snap back, now. He was trying to be good with his temper, but when met with anger what else was he supposed to do?

"I don't care what you're saying! If you really want to make me feel better about all this, you can take that stupid mother of yours and jump back into the grave where you belong!"

The young boy's mouth fell open as the narrow-eyed look blinked away, but too many blood-smeared memories kept any words from leaving his throat. His Ma, desperately pointing up the stairs with her katana, bleeding from her neck. The Spear of Destiny, sticking out of his own chest. The stinging pain of it, the beating of his failing heart. Struggling out of his murderer's embrace, because he wanted to die in his Ma's cold arms, instead...

"Wipe that look off your face, you little rodent. You have no reason to be sad!" Chiyo's quaking voice cracked even more, shattered by the poisonous things spilling out of her broken heart. "If you want to be sad, I'll give you a reason to be! I swear that when I'm older, I'm going to do everything I fucking can to make sure the whole world knows how awful your whole God damned family is! How you just come in and ruin people's lives!"

"We don't!" Nathan's voice came out strained and exasperated. He'd heard that enough times whenever the news managed to be overheard by him. He hated it then. He hated it now, because it wasn't the family he knew. His proud and funny and fun Dad and his smart and stern and caring Ma. Whenever anyone said otherwise, all he wanted to do was go to war about it. Because they were wrong. That wasn't his family...

"You couldn't understand anyway." Chiyo said bitterly. "You're just a stupid child." A rational part of Chiyo knew that she didn't have a right to throw Nathan's age into his face like another blow. After all, she was only twelve years old, herself. But after everything that had happened in her life, after everything she had lost… everything she had suffered. She didn't feel like a kid, anymore.

"So're you! You don't know shit about my family!" The little five year old swore, but his voice shook with too many upset feelings. How many times had he said this? How many more times would he scream it at the world?

"I know enough." Chiyo fired right back. "You're the disgusting spawn of a tyrant and a whore. Now get the fuck out of here, kid!"

Nathan's fists shook so badly he could feel the tremor moving up his pale arms... but his Ma was always telling him to be good with his temper. Once, just this once at least, he ought to do what his Ma wanted. So he said nothing more to Chiyo, stomping his way back to the set of rooms his family had occupied. He'd arrived just in time, judging from the way every suitcase was zipped up and neatly waiting by the door. His Dad wasn't around... neither was his sister. But his Ma stood over a trashcan, tilting a little bowl, dumping glass shards into it. And then a stopwatch... and then a notebook with a bunch of numbers scribbled on it, and a couple of old stains from a nosebleed he remembered her having. "Ma...?"

The moment she heard her son was the moment her face lit up... though it wasn't quite the same, and Nathan couldn't explain quite how. She was happy. But she was also sad... She was like him. Were they always going to be this way...? "Nathan...!" She knelt and embraced him, and he hugged her back. "Are you all ready to go?"

"Yeah."

"Good." And then she just held him, and he held her, too. Silently. Needing each other.

"... Am I in trouble?"

"What?" Nema pulled back to blink down at her son. "Why would you be in trouble?"

Nathan couldn't fight the quiver in his voice, or the way he teared up. "For following you down there."

She frowned, which only caused him to sniff. "No...! No, you're not in trouble." She was back to embracing him, her hands gently rubbing a soothing motion across his back. "I will never let anyone hurt you, again."

A cough sounded from behind his head, but he knew his Dad's voice well enough. He reacted just like his Ma... standing, going for suitcases – his a rolling one with a few crudely-drawn daggers scrawled on in silver marker, his mother's dark red with black lace laid on the top of it – and beginning the journey to the merkaba out front.

Unlike his Ma, he waited for his Dad to pick up the other two, and walked alongside him.

xXxXxXx

Chiyo couldn't see through her tears, anymore. She kept wiping them off her sticky cheeks, but for every tear she wiped away, two more seemed to take its place. This wasn't fair…! Not a single damn bit of this was fair! She didn't even know this "Doll" or "Katou", but she was suddenly expected to pack all of her things and move to a different country to live with them?

She couldn't read any of the symbols on the road signs. She didn't speak a word of Japanese. But this was her new home.

"It's going to be okay, Chiyo." Aaron said, reaching over to take Chiyo's hand. "Look at me."

Chiyo tore her puffy-eyed gaze away from the signs passing the car window to look at Aaron. He was sad, just as sad as she was, but he managed to put a smile on his face… just for her.

"I promise," He said. "We'll be okay."

"That's easy for you to say." Chiyo said miserably. "You have your sister." She nodded towards the little Vampire girl, fast asleep on the other side of the backseat, next to Aaron.

"Yeah." Aaron nodded. "But I have you, too. The three of us? We're always going to be family. No matter what."

Aaron was barely nine years old, but he was already a steady pillar that Chiyo sorely needed. She rested her cheek against the shoulder of his Incredible Hulk t-shirt and quietly cried the rest of the way to Doll and Katou's house. Aaron only stroked her white hair and let her cry. The three of them had been through so much… crying felt necessary.

xXxXxXx

"... So I'm going... to become an Aunt."

"I would really love for you to view it, that way."

"And it's with Lilith."

"Yes." Jinho's happiness was soft and tentative.

"I thought you didn't even like her."

"A lot has happened..."

Nema sighed and leaned against the headboard of her bed. Changed her mind, sat back up, felt tired again. "My head is having the hardest time digesting anything, oppa..."

"That makes two of us." The Vampire spoke honestly. "Like how you're leaving Michael?"

Nema's mouth opened and closed.

"I want to be clear that Lilith should not be a factor in your decision-"

"I haven't made a decision."

The pause only made that free falling feeling that much stronger. "... Then perhaps you should be spending your time coming to a decision with him."

"He's with the kids right now. I..." Already she could feel the quiver beginning in the corners of her mouth. "He needs to spend time with them. I came back and have kind of... kept them to myself. It's greedy of me. Selfish."

"You could be there beside him. I don't believe that would be particularly greedy."

"Oppa..."

But Jinho pressed the issue, however quietly. "Don't hide behind your phone and concern for me. I'll be a phone call away... but you still have to do what needs to be done. Whatever that may be."

Nema knew he was right. He might have been fired for fighting a Satan and recklessly gotten the former Dragonmaster pregnant, but he was still right... "Do you want me to talk to Lucifer?"

"I don't know what you could say to him."

"It just feels hasty. And you have a child on the way; you need income-"

"I'll be fine. We have to... keep quiet, for now, but we're in the perfect place for that. I'll figure something out; I'll adapt... It's what I do."

"And the fact that you're technically a fugitive. I guess you'll adapt to that, too." She couldn't help but retort flatly. "There's no extradition in Sheol."

"There's also a lot of violence in Sheol. I officially have one Satan who would love nothing more than to slowly take me apart."

"I could-"

"I don't miss Sheol, Nemaelle." Jinho's voice became the sharp and sure, slow stroke of a knife. "I never wanted to be there. If I have my way, I will never live there, again." He paused, silently wet his lips and took the moment to calm himself. "There you are again... throwing yourself into this because you want to be helpful. I will be okay... but now you need to ensure that you will be okay."

"I'm fine. I'm alive."

"It takes much more than breathing to be truly okay."

Jinho said nothing else, which nearly made Nema weep. "You're right; I know you're right..." And yet she was... scared, and admitting that to herself was hard enough. She kept it to herself. "Be safe, oppa."

"I will. Take care of yourself, Nemaelle."

Ending that call was like losing hold of a branch and entering free fall, again. She couldn't help herself; the reaction was immediate – she could call her parents again, or Nyssa, or Raziel – but no. Jinho was right. She needed to take care of herself, however strange it felt to word it that way. As if she'd let herself go...

Well, that's what happened. Even if it made her feel stripped and ugly, that's what happened.

The crossing of a shadow passed the doorway, the pattering of little feet followed by heavier ones. Laughter. Bold and bright and multiplied by another, and Nema looked up just in time to see Michael crossing back with Nathan tossed over his shoulder. Was her heart swelling or breaking? Maybe both.

She stood, but barely made it out of the bedroom door when Michael's words traveled down the hall in an often unheard, gentler kind of warm tone. A tone like sunlight, a tone that spoke of love. "Try that again, I've got energy to spare."

"Fine!" Through Nathan's open door she could see the frantic tossing of blankets, her son fighting to stay up later and later, still.

But Michael had done this enough times, catching the blankets, trapping the boy in them and plopping him back onto the mattress. "Come on, don't wake your sister."

"She sleeps too much, anyway...!"

"You think so? You don't have to wake up at 0300 for her...!" Fingers tickled at Nathan's neck, and they laughed and laughed and laughed... it was easy to pretend nothing was wrong. "No, it's been a tough damn day for you. Rest..." He placed a kiss on the crown of the boy's head, and rubbed it in with a ruffle of his white hair, making them laugh yet again before Michael stood.

"Dad?"

"Mmm?" A sleepy grunt, meant to tease his son.

"We're still a team... right?"

Michael enjoyed his natural position as the jokester parent, but he knew when to be serious, when to listen. "Why do you say that...?"

"I mean..." Nathan's voice shrank under Michael's open question, the invitation to speak his mind. "Even if you and Ma are mad... Are you still gonna be my Dad?"

He should have known this was coming, but it struck him hard, regardless. "Hey..."

"And Ma...?" Nathan's pale brows pinched together as the question shivered in the air. "She's still my Ma, right?"

"Hey, hey, hey...!" The sentiments brought the War Angel to his knees, bade him embrace his child for both Nathan's sake and his own. He could have held him forever, but needed to make sure his son looked him square in the eye, and so he pulled back. "You listen to me. You remember this." His words were hard around the edges, but soft in the middle, words of care that he wanted forged into Nathan's young bones. "I am always, always gonna be your Dad. Nothing's gonna change that, and I mean nothing. You hear me? And that goes double for your mother."

"Even if-"

"No matter what." That was ironclad. Michael would fight to the death about it, but he was glad that all he needed to do instead was hold his little boy and murmur in that fierce and soft tone, "I love you."

He pretended that he didn't hear the scuffling steps from down the hall, waiting for Nathan to calm, to sleep. Even as a part of him ached to respond to them... she'd made him wait all day. Maybe she'd make him wait all night, too... out on the sofa. Jokes about being in the dog house were hilarious up until they were entirely too real.

Michael paused outside their bedroom door, allowing the small opportunity to reach out, even if that meant risking more pain. He expected her to coldly ignore him. To be on the phone. To be asleep, even...

Instead she was sitting at the foot of their bed, hands clasped together in her lap... weeping. She was so full of tears, but maybe that was the price to pay for all the time she spent keeping them at bay. "I can't do this to them."

"Then don't." Only after he said it did he realize that may have come across as cruel, and the red heat of her glare confirmed that's how she received it. "I'm sorry..."

Nema batted his apology aside and snapped at him in harsh, quiet tones. "I guess you think the answer is to just fake being happily married!"

"Kind of hard to fake anything when your wife wants to dump her ring into literal broken glass!"

"You said it was over!"

"I said-" He paused, but only because she held out her hand and she at once looked like she was shutting him up and reaching out to touch him.

"We can't do this."

"We have to do this." They'd only just begun. Michael had stretched his patience, which was saying more than words ever could, in the first place.

"No, I mean..." Nema took a breath and spoke softly. "We can't scream and throw things and whatever else we clearly want to do. We're not a couple of idiots stuck in my parent's house in Assiah, going to war in my childhood bedroom. We have kids, and they're sleeping in rooms right next to ours."

Even as impulse wanted to rail against her demand... he nodded, shutting their door, staring at the calendar Nema had hung on it. Red marker circled around a day, and in the middle was written, 'London Trip!' followed by an arrow pointing to the future, and several question marks. London Trip... it was hard to believe that at one point, they'd treated this whole mess like a damn vacation... "Okay. No screaming."

She stared at his back, covered in a dark tank top. "... It felt pretty over."

He'd promised not to scream, but that didn't keep him from turning to face her aggressively, from giving her a green-eyed glare and moody words. "You mind explaining how that is? Because from where I'm coming from, you fucking blindsided me with your stupid wedding ring drop...!"

Nema's hands clawed into the comforter she sat upon. "Everything about your reaction just now is what makes it feel over. You were surprised? I'm sitting here barely holding myself together by threads and it goes unnoticed by you...! I scream and cry at you, and the entirety of your argument is a very angrily dressed 'get over it'! Yeah, I jammed my ring into that bowl, Michael. Be happy I didn't jam it down your throat, instead, because I wasn't honestly sure the bowl thing would have gotten your attention!"

"You had my attention!"

"Did I?" She meant to say more, but Michael's hand zipped through the air and cut her off.

"You're getting loud."

That made her pause, made her blink. "... Thank you."

He didn't respond to her gratitude. There was a mess of words that required his response, instead. "You had my attention, Nema. I won't stand for you acting like you didn't. But none of your claims made sense."

"They made perfect sense. You were spending all of your hours scrambling around in the dirt with -"

"You mean training Lilith?" His question wasn't a question, and it was hard and insistent.

"Is that what combat training is, these days? Sign me up, pretty please." She wished she found that funny enough to laugh...

Michael didn't find it funny, either, and it showed in the way his eyes grew piercingly sharp. "I got nothing out of training her. Nothing that you're heavily implying, at least. I spent day in and day out working with her because I got the biggest damn wakeup call of my life when Celestiel hurt you, and then it was mentioned that the Uprising might have something to do with the Prophecy. Hard as it is for me to swallow Shinryu talk even fucking now, I can get behind the idea of the Uprising being a big fucking problem. And I can treat it like the threat it's turned out to be, and ensure everyone who can be capable is. Capable. Including the Dragonmaster who should probably be kept alive in the hope that she might somehow be able to get in touch with three fucking dragons, again."

"You did all that for me." She responded flatly.

"Yes I did all that for you!" He couldn't help but snap. "What the fucking fuck, Nema? Like it's big fucking news to you that I might actually do things to keep you safe!"

It was her turn to hold out a hand and quiet him.

He took in a shaky breath, but the anger kept on flowing, heating up the room. "You want to come at me with this 'how dare I' fucking attitude. How fucking dare you, Nema? I love you, I love you, I fucking love you and how dare you think any different after everything that's happened to the two of us! Some fucking chick gets into me and suddenly you think you've lost me to her! Do I seem fucking fickle?"

Silence.

"Answer me...!"

"It's not as simple as Lilith suddenly being into you...!"

"It's about her saying whatever stupid shit she said to you one time, because she's a bitch like that."

"No." As much as that day had sent cracks through her, it wasn't about Lilith being mouthy.

"Then what is it, Nema? I have literally gone to war for you but somehow even that is not enough."

"You weren't here."

"No! Bullshit, Nema!"

She shut her eyes and sighed back tears.

"It's fucking ridiculous that you get to rain these accusations at my ass and be hurt about it when they make no damn sense at all-"

"Please let me talk or this conversation may as well be over...!" She tried to be calm, but frustration cracked her open and made her weep, a sob so deep she couldn't recover. She had to let it roll through her, she had to just... be sad.

And for all Michael's impatience, he could allow her that pain. Even if the act of feeling that pain only hurt him, more.

To be fair, Nema struggled past the too-familiar anguish to explain... and to concede some of the blame. "I'm sorry..." She meant to say more, but sadness kept claiming the words.

But he waited for her. Worked with her. "I confronted her about this. I won't stand for anyone making you feel like you don't have me."

"She's not... the real root, here; she's not the center of the problem, I've just... felt so... alone."

"I've been here. This whole time."

"But you haven't, you haven't...!" It was miserable to say it out loud, at once both tiresome and a fresh new knife sticking inside of her. "You'd make whole armies in my name but that isn't always what I need; that's not always the answer...! I wish that it was; I feel like you'd be happier. But sometimes I need you to just touch me, so much more than I need you fighting for me. Sometimes I need you to listen to me. I'm sorry..." She stared at the little tear drops that left wet circles in the fabric of her skirt. "I don't think you mean it, but the way you keep responding to these needs has me feeling really weak... and pathetic." His hands came into her view, and she froze because she hadn't even heard him move, heard him kneel before her. She nonetheless allowed him to hold her hands, and she cried harder because just that much actually soothed her. "Reminds me of when we were stuck in my parents' house. You'd rant and rant about weak women..."

"I was fucking dumb."

She laughed lamely, and he didn't laugh at all. "You just... haven't been present. Not... really. Day in, and day out... And then Lilith just fed into what I was feeling." Her brows pinched together. "And I needed you, and you seemed happy with her. I'm sorry... my head, kind of... got lost." Another few tears, raining right onto Michael's hands, went ignored. "I just felt like a burden..."

"You never told me you were feeling this down."

"Yes, I did." She sighed.

"Nema, look at me." He waited until she did, teary red eyes meeting a gaze that had softened into blue. "If you need me to hear you out... this badly. And I don't realize, for any kind of fucked up reason... then please keep pushing me. Please."

And for all her pain, she laughed again. This time bitterly. "What did you think the... I don't know. The sex fight was for?"

Michael's brows raised high, which made her laugh all over again.

"Too... crazy of a method?"

"Too confusing! … But we can keep trying it out if you want."

Another laugh, and each time it felt more and more like it came from a place of real happiness. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

"That you were lonely and mad." He said quietly, remembering how he'd learned about her burning Azrael's headquarters to the ground. How he'd snapped and yelled at her. How he'd left... "Don't tell me you waited until you got to that point before you did something. I can be fucking dense, but I don't need that wild of a plan to get my attention..."

Nema's frown was small and achy. "But at that point, it really felt like you did."

"Nema..."

"There were several times I tried to just... talk to you. You were always busy. One time we were in the middle of arguing about my going off to fight against the rioting..." She sighed through her nose. "Which isn't the greatest time to begin with, but I didn't know when else. Sometimes you were just plain tired..." She blinked when memory drove yet another few tears into her lashes, and her eyelids stung from all the prior crying.

Michael squeezed her hands. "There's a reason that's jumping out at you; I can feel it."

She tried to shrug it off. "It was way early in our stay down there..."

"Doesn't matter."

"It's really old news, Michael."

"Doesn't matter."

After all the time he'd neglected her, now he refused to budge, and Nema knew he'd keep at it for the next hour. "Somebody working within the Think Tank suggested this really... gross idea to Raziel, for me to do. In a response to the smear campaign that's gone on against me." She sighed back a small weep of a sob and began to squeeze back, over and over.

"Hey... hey." She hadn't realized her gaze was focusing elsewhere until he'd gotten her attention. His eyes were wide and blue. "This is no way to act about really old news that happened way back when we hadn't been in Assiah for long. Talk to me."

Her lips thinned briefly, and despite shutting her eyes, yet more tears tracked down her cheeks. "People keep saying that I don't understand the Rabbits here, that I haven't been through what they went through, so someone told Raziel to suggest I start publicly speaking about when I was 12, like speeches or interviews or something, because I guess that's supposed to make me relatable or, or something, I don't know."

"Raziel went along with this."

Nema was too hurt to note how low and hard Michael's voice became. "He thought it would help if I was willing..."

Michael suddenly tore his hands from hers.

The action made her jump, her eyes shooting open to give him a bewildered stare. "Michael?"

"I'm gonna punch him right in his fucking skull. It might knock some fucking sense into it. He couldn't figure out how disgusting that idea is on his own?"

"What?" The moment he stood, she was pleading with him. "Michael, no! This happened months ago! You show up on his doorstep now; he's not going to have any idea what the problem is!"

"I won't be long."

"No, stay." The moment he turned was the moment she reached out and clung hard onto his hand, her grip tight enough to begin hurting his fingers. She didn't loosen her hold until he turned to look down at her. "That's not what I need you to do... I need you to stay..."

The pause was short and quiet, and when Michael gently sat on the edge of the mattress, Nema slipped further toward the headboard. She tugged lightly on his hand and pulled him along with her, until they were both lying in their bed. Fully clothed and tired and trying to mend each other.

She reached out and drew an invisible line along his tattoo, cheek to jaw. "This is what I need..."

What she needed was an action that soothed him, even though he couldn't help but feel like he was doing absolutely nothing in return. "I'm sorry... Thought I'd learned the first time but here I am. Still not here when you need me..."

Her finger paused on its second path down his cheek. "Don't."

"Not even there when you get hurt. When our son gets hurt."

That finger became her whole hand, cupping the side of his face. "No, Michael, stop. Stop..." She leaned forward and kissed him, gentle, reassuring. "You can't keep doing this to yourself..."

"You were killed..."

"I'm back."

"Dumb luck. I can't just sit by when you get hurt and think that you'll be back...! How many times has this happened to you? You get hurt, you nearly die, you do die!" His arms reached out and suddenly pulled her tight against him, as though she just might die again, in their bed. "She was right about one thing." He whispered. "I've been lucky. Ridiculously... fucking... lucky. It has to run out at some point..."

"Stop with the paranoia." She found herself scolding him.

"Stop dying." He grumbled harshly.

"... Did you honestly just say that to me?" Nema replied flatly. "I'm not trying to die. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. We've made it this far."

Michael exhaled through his nose. "You're so damn young. 'We've made it this far.'"

"We're married. We have kids, Michael."

"That's. Not. The point. You're not even 100, yet. Your perception of time is so... It's so fucking human, Nema. Look at the big scheme of things... The time I've known you is... a damn blink of an eye compared to how long I've been around, breathing and burning things. And in that fucking blink of my eye, you've been badly hurt or outright killed how many times? Yeah. Yeah, Nema. I feel fucking worried now and then. I fell in love with you after eons of wanting nothing to do with it at all, and sometimes I feel like I'll only get to enjoy it for one or two blinks more."

"No, hey. I'm here." She kissed him once, twice. Lingered on the third. "I'm here... That's all anyone can promise anyone else. Whether they've lived for eons or not..."

"Sorry. Just... I'm tired of losing you."

Nema's ruby eyes held the gaze of his blue ones for a long moment before she whispered, "Then don't let me go."

Yet another kiss, but instead of being for comfort alone, it was a promise. A promise that pressed them together until limbs tangled and his fingers caught in the knot of her corset's lacing. "Vacation..."

Nema didn't so much repeat him as gently moan vague syllables in response, pulling his tank top up and over his head.

Michael pulled away and held her back by the lacing of her corset. "Vacation."

She blinked and waited for what he was saying to make sense. "... Why?"

"After everything we've been through, you don't think we need one?" He frowned. "You have 'London Trip!' scrawled on your calendar like this was supposed to be some big party for us. We deserve an actual trip."

"... Michael, I've already been more or less absent from things for months, now. Raziel is going nuts; the remnants of the Uprising are scrambling around, I'm sure-"

"You died. Nathan died. We're mending what was almost a divorce, and I'm wearing your ring around my neck as proof of it."

That much was true, and it silenced Nema. She gently took hold of the pink, heart-shaped diamond ring, watching the dog tags dangle alongside it... saying nothing as she detached the ball chain, freed the ring, finally slipped it back onto her pale finger. "Now you're not." As she fixed the chain back together, she sighed. "You never wear these..."

"Agree to a vacation and I'll start wearing them more often."

His persistence stirred a laugh from her lips, fingers toying with the steel plates. "Fine, fine."

Michael thanked her with a bright smile. "Where to, next?"

One finger hooked around the chain and tugged tightly. "Ask again in an hour or two?"

His smile grew, and his tugged the knot of her lacing open. "Make it two," he managed to say, before Nema tugged harder on his dog tags, pulling his mouth onto hers.