"Drink."

Samael stirred slowly, aware of something pressing against his lips. Everything felt too distant and too heavy to do anything much about it.

"Open your mouth. Drink."

He could manage an open mouth surely?

And he was so very thirsty.

He tried, managing a little, though his jaw felt locked in place. He was still shivering too, though it did not feel cold here?

Where was here?

He was in the midst of prising his eyes open when something awful came pouring down his throat.

He coughed it up with a grimace, and spoke in the language he'd just heard.

"Terrible... what...?"

"Drink it, or you will die."

"W-What?"

"You are very sick. The water made you so, and the wound in your head is stealing your sense." The vessel, with a rough, round edge that felt like wood, was pressed firmly against his lips again. "Drink."

Frowning, he opened his eyes to complete darkness.

"Where...?"

"You are being difficult. I am pouring this down your throat now."

Strong calloused fingers grasped his jaw and pulled it open.

Grunting, he tried to pull the hand away, but his limbs were too slow. The fluid came rushing down his throat, burning as it went.

He swallowed some and spat a lot back up, before the fingers came once more, pulling his jaw down before the horrid drink was poured in again.

"Gah," he managed after swallowing another mouthful. It tasted of acidic dirt and bitter tannin, with something horribly sour binding the whole concoction together. "That is... so... awful... please stop..."

"Yes. That will do. You will rest now."

"Where am I? Who are... I..."

Everything began to feel quite muzzy, and his limbs grew even more distant. "What.. in that... drinn.."

A hand pressed gently against his head. A very large hand. The pressure made him feel as if he were falling.

"Rest."

The world grew muffled and small.

He dreamed.

Of a woman. The lightest blue eyes stared up at him, wide and full of warmth, the fine skin about them crinkling with a smile. Such a radiant smile, framed by full lips and a delicate jawline that he cupped in his palm. Her skin was gloriously soft and warm, and her hair fell about her face in waves of blonde and chestnut.

He was flying, his great white wings catching a warm updraft as he held her in his arms, and the sun was setting before them, turning the clouds bright gold. Behind, the sky was cloaked in deepening purples and blues.

She loved him. He knew this. And he loved her back so much he felt breathless.

But he did not know her name.

Who are you? he tried to ask, but no sound left him.

He tried harder.

"Who... are..."

His voice was muffled and weak, and he stirred with it, his eyes drifting open then closing again.

He sank.

To a war.

The armored foot caught him square in the chest, and the sword was torn free of his stomach with a gout of dark blood.

He teetered for a moment that stretched to a millennia. Knowing what this moment meant as the other angels watched on - Amenadiel bloodied and snarling, Remiel's face barely concealing her glee at ending one of his soldiers. Azrael turning from him, her eyes closing in sorrow. Gabriel, Uriel, Raphael, Maalik, Nuriel... all standing in judgement.

And his Father's presence - the light over all things, shouting at him in a rage, as his mother watched on.

BEGONE

And with a vicious grin, Michael pushed him with an outstretched finger, sending him over the edge of the portal out of Heaven.

He Fell.

It was agony. The fires that had always been his to command turned inward, consuming him as he fell through each dimension - his body a falling star to the early people of Earth and others of a multitude of realms.

He Fell until the realm of Hell's gate opened like a wound beneath him, and burning still, his wings long gone, his skin charred, his eyes fiery pits, he slammed into the ground of its realm with the force of a splitting atom.

He did not die.

But he was broken.

He lingered, shattered and smoking still for a time that had no definition, for Hell was timeless.

He wished to die. But instead, he grew stronger. Enough to raise his head as one of the Lilim neared. Female, slender, born for battle and eager for pain. She devoured his pain, and returned his strength further. And with her help he finally stood, and spread new wings and rose to claim the realm as his own.

She was his soldier, and willing mate when his pain sought expression in dark lusts. She took it all, and returned it as much, and with her he grew harder and sharper than he had ever been. He embraced his role completely and reveled in the meting of punishment, and his heart grew harder still. Through it all, she accepted and supported him.

But her name was lost to him as well.

"Wake up now," she said, in a voice that didn't suit her at all.

What?

"Wake up!" came the voice again, and the strength of it snapped him from nightmare.

Arms were bound over his chest and head, thickly furred and incredibly strong. His body had been fighting - he could feel the lingering energy of the battle just under his skin, and he bucked against his sudden prison, roaring for his freedom.

"STOP! You are SAFE! BE CALM!"

The words somehow reached him through his pain, and he slowed, finally sinking back in exhaustion.

Everything was dark.

"I cannot see," he murmured, still bound by the arms of his caretaker.

The arms slowly retreated, and the same large hand, the palms calloused and warm, pressed against his head.

Light streamed in as something green was pulled away. He blinked furiously, feeling suddenly raw and exposed. He caught a glimpse of stone above, the fine crystalline facets within sparkling in flickering firelight.

A massive dark hand, framed by fur at the wrist loomed into view.

He jerked from it instinctively, backing his upper body up against the stone wall beside him as the massive creature was revealed.

Very tall, very muscular. Built like a man but longer of arm and thicker about the brow. Every part covered in thick fur, save for the face and the hands, which drew back quickly, palms raised.

The creatures's strange mouth opened - not like a man's at all - and it spoke, revealing impressive canines yellowed with age.

"I will not harm you," it said, in a language of grunts and pops.

Samael blinked at it, not quite trusting its words. But from it came a great feeling of peace and calm, and he found himself relaxing despite his mistrust.

He felt better, too. No longer shivering, and the pounding at his head had lessened.

The creature was kneeling beside him, massive even on its knees. Flickering beyond it was a large fire fueled by jaggedly torn timbers. Furs and dried plants and simple dishes of wood circled the fire, and a passageway led off to the right. Dried meat hung from branches set in notches in the stone walls and the bones of multiple species lay in scattered piles about the room.

Everything smelled absolutely foul, and the creature seemed to be the source of it.

"Your aroma is disturbing."

The creature showed its generous array of teeth.

"Thank you," it said, in what sounded like pride.

Samael looked down at himself. The wound in his side was covered in leaves, the deeper cuts on his chest and legs dabbed with some kind of dirt. Curious, he reached to check the wound at his head, but the creature stopped him with a large hand.

He frowned back at the massive hairy man.

"What are you?"

The thing sat back on its legs.

"I am the Guardian, though I have many names. The ones in the forest call me the Tall One. The ones who infest this world call me Sasquatch, Doolagahi, Yeren, Mande Burung, Tso'apittse, Kakundak, Yeti-"

"You can stop now. I understand, many names."

"You are rude."

Samael glowered at the creature. "Currently, yes. Would you like to know why?"

"No. I am also called Bigfoot here because the people who find my tracks are smaller than I and stupid."

Samael smirked. "Well, you know what they say about big feet."

The Guardian frowned.

"What do they say?"

The smirk slowly fell. Confusion swiftly replaced Samael's mirth.

"I... do not know. I do not know why I said that."

Sasquatch nodded and tapped a thick finger against its temple. "Your sense is damaged."

Frowning, Samael reached for the wound on his head again.

The Guardian stopped him.

"Let it heal."

He yanked his arm free of the thing's grasp, frustrated and disturbed. "It should be healed," he snapped. "I should not be this sick! I should not be this..."

He did not want to say the word, but it bubbled up in his mind regardless.

Vulnerable

"Mortal?"

That word was even more devastating. He stared at the creature, his expression frozen. It could not be true. He did not want it to be true.

But it very clearly was.

The look he gave the creature was imploring. "Is this part of my Father's punishment? To exile me to this place and make me live out a mortal life?"

The Guardian shrugged. "How would I know? I will only say that you may know the reason yourself, but the sense of it is lost. It will come back to you in time, but I do not know when."

Releasing a long sigh, Samael looked about the creature's dwelling.

"How did I get here?" he asked, frowning. "I was on a riverbank? Did Me-The-Bear bring me to you?"

"Yes. You collapsed. The bear knew what you were and did not want to leave you for anything else to eat."

He nodded. "I should thank him. He saved my life, loathe as I am to think it was under threat."

The Sasquatch smiled. "Yes. You can thank him later. First, you need to eat. I have this to offer."

Turning from him, the hairy man reached towards the campfire and pulled up a large steaming bowl roughly carved of wood.

It smelled terrible.

Samael stared at the surface as it neared. Green, lumpy, and randomly dotted with the legs and shells of numerous invertebrates.

He placed a finger on the edge of the bowl as it grew closer, and pressed it resolutely back.

"No."

The Guardian pressed it forward again with an encouraging smile. "It is good for you. Eat."

Samael shook his head firmly.

There was no way in any realm that he was eating that.

"There is snake and weasel meat in this," the Sasquatch said, poking his finger into the soup and twirling it around. He pulled up something long and fat. "Worms and crickets. Very good for healing."

Samael watched the creature pull its finger from the meal meant for him and suck it happily. Something in his gut twisted.

"If you do not stop talking I am going to vomit all over you."

"Rudeness again," the creature grunted. "I offer you my best food and you insult me."

"Yes. Because your best food is the stuff of nightmare."

With a hard sigh, the creature opened its mouth, lifted the bowl, and chugged the entire thing at once. Something with many legs got caught over its lips, and it slurped it up quickly with a fat, dark tongue.

"Mmm... good."

Samael pulled his horrified gaze from the Guardian's mouth and looked about the place for anything else he might eat. He was hungry - his stomach growled painfully, but he could see nothing but gnawed bones, plants he had no interest in, and strips of unidentified meat hunted by flies.

His mind wandered to more palatable suggestions.

Fillet mignon paired with an old-vine Zinfandel? Baked salmon with a squeeze of lemon chased down with a Chilean Chardonnay?

His mouth watered, but he could not conjure up any image of what he was thinking of.

"Do you have..." he started to say, hopefully, then stopped. The creature's language did not allow for the first, but the second had an equivalent. "Salmon?"

The Guardian's brow furrowed, its dark expressive eyes lowering thoughtfully.

"That is more the bear's meal, but... perhaps..."

Slowly it stood, its body taking some time to rise, and Samael tried not to be intimidated by the size and bulk of it when it was finished.

"You are very large," he murmured, without really meaning to.

"Big," the thing said, pointing at its lower limb with no small amount of irritation, "foot." It snorted then and walked to the far side of the room, where it pawed its way through the hanging meat.

"Nevermind," Samael called, starting to feel sick. "I regret asking."

"Ah! Here!" the guardian said brightly, and threw something his way.

The uncooked and slightly rotten body of a silver-scaled creature landed squarely in Samael's lap.

"No!" he yelled, swatting it off of himself, and twisting to stand. "No, I am leaving! I will not endure this a moment longer!"

"But... you are not yet recovered."

The room swam in a fascinating way, but Samael was not to be deterred - grasping the nearest object to steady himself and recoiling once he realized it was a large skull, he gathered himself and took slow, careful steps to the passageway.

The Guardian loomed in his vision and placed two strong hands atop his shoulders. The weight almost bore him to his knees.

"There are people out there hunting you, light-bringer. You should stay until you are well."

Samael looked up at an impossible angle, biting back a swift rush of dizziness, and frowned at the creature.

"Light-bringer?" he murmured. He blinked rapidly - something about that phrase meant something, but he could not work out what. His head began to ache and he shook the thoughts away. "I thank you for your aid, but I cannot stay and breathe your stench a moment longer."

The Guardian shrugged. "Your sense is broken, winged one. But I will not stand in your way." It pulled its hands from Samael's shoulders. "Go then. Try to avoid death. I fear it still seeks you."

"Very helpful," Samael muttered, pushing past the creature and grasping for the passage walls. "Try to avoid death. What profound advice."

The Sasquatch humphed, crossing its massive arms.

And Samael only barely caught what it said under its breath as he pushed forward, seeking the pale light of day at the tunnel's end and the sweet rush of non-fouled air it promised.

"I am glad to see the back of you, you whining cretin."

He glowered at the growing circle of light.

"I heard that!"


I certainly didn't plan to have Bigfoot show up in this fic, btw. I was very happy when he did, not going to lie. :D He's not a major part of this story either, he just happened to be there when Samael/Lucifer needed a hand. Things get much more serious (well, after one more slightly silly chapter) from here on in. ;)

Very serious.

PS: If you're enjoying the story, hating it, want to share a terribly secret secret or just have a cat that likes to walk on your keyboard, please leave a comment. ;)