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034. Not Enough

According to Raphael, Uriel was slowly recovering. Any outward signs of progress couldn't be seen, but if Raphael's exhaustion whenever he had worked on healing the other archangel told anything of the amount of work he was doing, Uriel simply had to be doing better. Michael had to be practically dragged away from his bedside to get him leave it for even a moment. With Gabriel busy making sure that Raphael didn't exhaust himself too much and Michael didn't neglect all his duties, Aziraphale was left with pretty little to do, aside from watching everything that was going on around him and trying to recover himself.

Uriel regaining consciousness was, according to Raphael, a big step on the way of recovery. At first Uriel seemed to have truly lost his mind completely – he couldn't even speak, not seeming to recognize anybody, much to Michael's agony. Slowly he regained the ability to speak and express himself. The day he first looked at Michael and called him by his name was one on which they all rejoiced.

Once the recovery had properly begun, it continued more rapidly. Raphael had to do less and less to repair the damage to Uriel's mind. In the meantime, Aziraphale grew himself another body and returned to Earth. However, he now visited Heaven regularly, wanting to stay up to date about how Uriel was getting better.

Finally, it seemed the archangel had recovered even more completely than Raphael could have ever foreseen. He still stumbled over words occasionally, and sometimes seemed to forget entirely what he had been doing mere seconds before, but every day he got closer to normal. For the most part nobody could have guessed that there had ever been something wrong with his mind.

However, something had changed in Uriel. Most of the angels saw him becoming more open, smiling, snapping, showing his emotions like he never had before. Sure, those signs of his emotions were rather mild, rarely anything but a slight smile or a raised eyebrow, but they were definitely more than what they could have expected of the previously stone-faced archangel. The change, whatever had caused it, was definitely for the better, the angels decided.

Those close to Uriel, who had actually known his open side before the change, however, were slowly getting desperate. Uriel allowed mild emotions to show through to everybody, yes, but nothing else. It was like he hadn't even felt anything else, ever. Slight friendliness was the most they got from him -- sure, he had never been the most open of people, but to them he had always showed more than this! They simply didn't know what to do.

Michael in particular was at a loss. He still loved Uriel, loved him so much it made him ache, but he got no love back. Sure, Uriel often expressed his gratefulness for Michael's care and devotion, and obviously meant it. Sure, he got affection unlike that reserved to their friends, indicating that their relationship was different from simple friendship. However, that was all there was. Affection, however un-friend-like and loving it may have been, simply wasn't enough. He craved Uriel's love, wanted to touch and feel and hold and love, but the other apparently didn't even understand his emotions.

As an angel, he was used to sensing love. He'd also become accustomed to feeling Uriel's love for him. Now, however, that had become a thing of the past – and he didn't know what to do.

Finally, he collected his courage to question his beloved.

"Uriel?" he asked softly as they were alone, hoping his near-desperation wasn't audible in his voice. "Why don't you love me anymore?"

Uriel gave him a confused gaze, like he hadn't understood the question. "What do you mean?" he asked back. "Of course I love you, just like I've always done. Have I ever told you otherwise?"

"Perhaps you love me," Michael said, "but only as a friend nowadays. Obviously you don't love me any more than you do Gabriel or Raphael."

Again, Uriel looked confused. "That is not true!" he said. "I love you as so much more than a friend. I could never say that you are like Gabriel or Raphael to me. Sure, they are my friends, and I love them dearly, but not like I love you."

"Then why don't you show it?" Now, the warrior's voice was pained and he knew it, but he did nothing to hide the fact. "You treat me like one of your friends. I love you, Uriel, I love you more than anything aside from Him, and what do I get? An affectionate smile at most. Before, I could feel your love, feel it coming from you like waves of warmth. Compared with that, what I now get is nothing."

The green eyes looked at him, sincere confusion well visible in them. And when Uriel spoke, his voice was a mix of that confusion, apology, and love that still didn't come even near to what it had been before. "Michael... I do not understand what you mean."

Michael made a strangled sound, turning around. He hurried away, trying to block his emotions of longing and desperation, still feeling confused emerald eyes on his back.

"He doesn't understand," Michael said miserably. "Uriel doesn't love me like he used to, and he doesn't even understand how anything is different from before. You must have noticed it, too. Sure, he still appears friendly to us all, but not like he was before. It's not true friendship - it is the friendliness showed to everybody you know by name and don't outwardly hate! And he doesn't even realize that anything is wrong!"

Aziraphale was silent. He knew that Michael was right, even though he didn't want to admit it. Uriel appeared, while publicly more open than ever, rather distant in private compared with what he had been before. This disturbed him a great deal. What kind of damage had the Enemy made?

Gabriel didn't say anything, either. He just shook his head slowly as if in denial, his eyes locked at the table they were gathered around.

They all turned towards Raphael, question in their eyes, silently pleading the Healer to offer them an explanation and, hopefully, a solution. When the redhead opened his mouth to speak, they all listened eagerly.

"I feared something like this," the Healer admitted quietly. "The time he was under the influence of the Enemy was bound to damage him somehow. From what I've gathered this far, his intelligence appears untouched. His mind is still as sharp as ever. However, his emotions…" Raphael shook his head, looking miserable. "There is nothing we can do, I fear. The damage made during the four millennia and especially the shock of attacking Michael simply burned away a big part of his emotion scale – that's the only way I can describe it. It's not that his feelings had changed, or he doesn't want to feel like he did before. He simply can't feel such strong love and affection, can't feel them and can't understand them, either. Most probably, while definitely grateful for it, Uriel doesn't even understand your love for him, Michael. He can't comprehend how somebody could feel something so strong. It warms him just like his love warmed you in the past, he likes it, loves it, is sincerely grateful for it. However, he doesn't understand how you can love him so much. To him, it is simply impossible."

"But how can that be possible?" demanded the warrior. "How could anybody not understand something as simple as love?"

"Can you understand the desires of demons?" asked Gabriel quietly, his eyes again locked at the tabletop. "Do you comprehend how they are able to feel such wrath, such lust and desire, will to hurt? Do you understand how anybody can have vile feelings that strong? Are you able to feel such things?"

"Of course not," Michael said, sounding miserable. "I'm not a demon, after all. But neither is Uriel!"

"No, he isn't," Raphael admitted. "And I haven't claimed that he is a demon, or evil. He is still very much an angel. However, he simply cannot feel things like other angels. Mild amusement, affection, friendship, even anger, sure, they are all possible for him. He can understand them, handle them, give them out to others. But anything beyond that…" The healer shook his head, sighing. "There's nothing to be done. The damage may be irreparable, I fear. You will have to be satisfied with what you receive from him… Or give up hope of ever having his love again."

Aziraphale had witnessed several fights, battles, even victories over the Warrior Prince – all of them by Lucifer, as far as his memory served him. However, despite all these experiences, he had never seen Michael look as defeated before.

"I don't understand Michael."

The statement startled Aziraphale. Even after the change, Uriel usually was quiet whenever they were alone, and he returned the favour. Now, however, he turned to look at the archangel, who had just spoken. "What - what do you mean?" he asked carefully.

"I don't understand his feelings for me," Uriel elaborated. "I can feel it just as well as I can see light, or hear sounds. It's obvious that he loves me. I love him, too, I really do - and not as a friend, either. However, he loves me more - much more than I do him. And I simply can't understand how that is possible." As he looked at the startled Aziraphale, he looked a bit sad. "I can feel other emotions, too… those of the others. Gabriel and Raphael, they both love each other as strongly as Michael loves me. And you all love each other as friends, family, and for some reason you love me as a friend, too. But it's so much - more than I could ever hope to achieve."

"It's not your fault," the younger angel muttered. "You can't help it."

"No, I cannot," Uriel admitted, sighing. "That is true. I love you all as dearly as I'm able to, but it doesn't come even close. It's not that I don't want to feel such things - I want to, I really do, I don't want anything as badly as I wish I could return to Michael all the love he gives to me. But I cannot. I cannot feel, and I cannot understand." The green eyes were sincere as ever, questioning him with almost childish innocence hidden in their depths. "What is wrong with me, Aziraphale? Why cannot I feel like I once did?"

"The Enemy," replied the younger angel quietly. "Raphael - Raphael said that the shock of attacking Michael because of the Enemy's corruption burned away your emotions. Otherwise your mind is like it was before, but you can't feel normal emotions except for their very mildest forms."

"First they take my brother, then they take my sanity, and now they take my heart," muttered Uriel. "Well, isn't this great." He started to draw something with a pen and a paper that had not been there a moment before.

"Michael doesn't understand visual perspective," Uriel suddenly said after a moment of silence. "I never understood how he could not comprehend such a simple thing. In a battle, he constantly has to evaluate where his opponent is, how long a way they have between them, how should he move his sword to strike them – he has no trouble understanding depth and distance. However, despite everything I did, all my advice and explanations, he never could understand what perspective has to do with art. Why his sketches look so funny. He knows what is wrong, but he can't understand how to fix it." He looked at the drawing critically, then let it disappear in a puff of flames. "I feel the same way now, Aziraphale. I know I should be feeling more, stronger, but I don't know how. It's a – it's a very helpless feeling."

Aziraphale tried to say something, anything, to comfort Uriel, to tell him that everything would be okay eventually. However, he could think of nothing that he could say.

It might have been easier had Uriel truly looked helpless instead of a bit discontent.

Next Prompt: Smell