A/n: Hihi! So, Gabriel wouldn't leave me alone. He obviously didn't care that I have homework and life for us mere mortals is not all fun and games. But, maybe now I can be a little responsible before I start the next chapter. Ye-eahh, probably not. Who am I kidding?
Shoutouts to 1Corinthians 1313, PrincessMagic, WingsofJustice and CrystalVixen93! Thank you guys so much for reviewing! It just makes my day to know you're enjoying the story!
Enjoy!
Heaven was quiet, peaceful for the first time in long time. For a while, the Angels had held their collective breath, waiting for the next explosive argument between Michael and Lucifer. However, it had yet to happen and slowly, everyone found themselves relaxing as it seemed that their home had returned to being the paradise it had been. Even Earth seemed to benefit from the uncertain peace that had settled between the Archangels.
Gadreel stood at the entrance to Eden, a garden of Heavenly perfection that God had created just for the humans. Though he hadn't been home in some time, he had felt each fearful and painful tremor his brothers and sisters suffered during those moments. Now, the silence filled him with relief and he prayed the peace would last.
He extended his Grace until he touched the souls within the Garden. He found the Humans…odd. Their souls had a peculiar resonance, similar to an Angel's Grace but far more profound. At first, he had tried to connect with them like he could with his brethren, only to find that they weren't receptive to him. He could communicate with them, he knew, but these beings weren't meant to join with an Angel's Grace. However, he could feel them joined to each other. He could feel them joined to Father. Although he couldn't access that connection, he could exist just outside of it, like standing on the bank of a river, and marvel at its strength and continuity, its uniqueness. At times, he felt that he could almost understand what made Humans so special to his Father and at other times, he felt as incomprehensive as a Fledgling.
Regardless, he was honored to have this duty.
Suddenly, a cold presence brushed against his Grace and he tensed, drawing his blade.
"Who comes?" he demanded.
"Gadreel, you don't recognize me, old friend?" Lucifer said in a wounded tone. "Has it truly been so long?"
Gadreel relaxed and smiled. "Lucifer," he nodded deeply in respect and sheathed his blade. "Forgive me. I should have known you."
Lucifer waved away the apology. "There is no need to be so formal, Gadreel," he said easily. "I am not Michael. I won't smite you for some perceived disrespect."
Gadreel's mouth tightened at the name, uncertain of how things actually stood between the Archangels.
"Is it over?" he asked. "The fighting?"
Lucifer sighed. "So it would seem. Have you ever ventured inside?" he nodded toward the gate the Angel guarded.
"I have once, briefly, so that I would better know what I was guarding," Gadreel replied and his Grace swelled contentedly. "It is perfect. Father spared no effort."
"Hm," Lucifer studied the gate. "I see he truly means to keep them safe. I doubt anything could force its way inside even you weren't here to guard them."
"That is my hope," Gadreel said sincerely.
"You sound worried," Lucifer remarked. "Speak your mind, Gadreel," he urged when the Angel pursed his lips into a tense line.
"Earth is young," Gadreel began, his voice low with concern. "There is no evil here to harm Father's creations. But if the Darkness breaks free, will it not seek them out first?"
"The Darkness will never break free, Gadreel," Lucifer assured him with the utmost confidence. "In that, your worry is unfounded, my friend."
Gadreel let out an embarrassed sigh. "Of course. What brings you to Earth?"
"I wish to see them," Lucifer told him.
Gadreel's expression turned hard. "I cannot allow that."
Lucifer sighed. "Gadreel, I know you have been aware of my disagreement with Michael."
Gadreel nodded, his eyes burning with a warrior's wariness.
"I still do not understand how Father could favor these creatures over us," Lucifer went on, his voice grieved. "Yet, one thing Michael and I have always agreed upon, is that Father does nothing without a purpose. In light of that knowledge…perhaps I do not understand them—these Humans—well enough. I want peace to return to our home but that will not happen if I continue to be at odds with Michael. I only seek answers to my questions. The more knowledge I possess, the better able I will be to proceed."
Gadreel slowly relaxed and his eyes dropped in shame. "Of course, I understand," he said apologetically. "I have many questions, as well."
"I am sure they are the same as mine," Lucifer told him with a laugh. "Perhaps, I will be able to find answers for both of us. That is all I want, Gadreel. I have no intention of harming them. How would that avail me? We fought the Darkness together, my brothers and I. I fought to protect us all. Do you truly believe that I wish to undo it all and tear us asunder? I have only ever wanted what was best."
Gadreel nodded. "You always have," he agreed, remembering those days when the Darkness encroached on them, the power of the Archangels, the brilliance of the Morningstar's Grace as he fought to defend their home. "I should have known better than to doubt you."
He stepped aside.
Lucifer gripped his shoulder. "No, my friend, your skepticism serves your position well. I am only glad I was able to prove myself trustworthy. I won't be long. The sooner I return, the sooner I can set everything right."
Gadreel felt Lucifer's chilled Grace in the Garden as well as the Human souls within. The Archangel kept his presence subdued, undoubtedly wanting to remain unnoticed as he observed them. Then, it faded and Gadreel knew he had departed.
Something was wrong.
At first, it was nothing but an odd, vibration in the air, like a single, poorly tuned string on an instrument. Gadreel rushed into the Garden, blade drawn, ready to smite the thing that dared endanger his charges. Then, suddenly, the resonance of the souls shattered into an earth-rending scream of agony, then fell silent. He found them, desperately trying to hide and he could feel their souls, no longer pure and joyous, but broken and keening in grief and pain, their connection to Father completely severed.
Gadreel dropped his sword and sank to his knees, his wings collapsing on either side of him.
"No," he whispered in horror. "No this—this cannot be…What happened?!" He raised his eyes to Heaven as he felt his Grace speared through with his Father's grief. "Father, please…please forgive me," he pled as realization settled its crushing weight on him. "He said…he said…I trusted…"
I failed.
Castiel stood on the plateau, wings flared and Grace open. Eliyon suddenly appeared behind him and the Fledgling spun to grab him. Eliyon whirled away and nearly escaped cleanly, but as his wing flapped downward, Castiel's hand accidentally gripped one of the long feathers.
"OUCH!" he yelped and landed to inspect his wing.
Castiel rushed to him. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that!" He dropped the bronze feather guiltily.
"What happened?" Balthazar asked, landing behind Eliyon.
"I pulled out one of his feathers," Castiel said.
"You alright, kiddo?" Gabriel asked, walking up to check the trio.
"I'm fine," Eliyon told him and flared his wings to shake off the residual sting. "Zachariah used to pull out a handful at a time on purpose."
Gabriel's eyes flashed wrathfully. "I'll remember that."
Castiel stared sadly at the plucked, bronze feather. Then, he held a deep breath, took hold of his wing and pulled out one of his ebony feathers, the same one Eliyon had lost.
"Castiel! Why did you do that?" Eliyon demanded in stunned horror, staring at the blood-tipped quill.
"Now it's fair," Castiel replied resolutely. "You lost one. I lost one."
"Ouch!" Balthazar hissed. "Now, it's fair," he said, dropping one of his feathers on the ground, as well. "Now, we can keep going and no one has an advantage."
"What will you tell Esme?" Eliyon asked.
"She won't notice," Balthazar replied dismissively.
Suddenly, Eliyon paled and looked up, his silver eyes full of horror. Beside him, Gabriel stiffened and his eyes widened apprehensively. "Something's happened," he murmured and launched himself from the plateau.
"Gabriel! Wait!" Eliyon called and dashed off after the Archangel. Castiel and Balthazar followed close behind.
Lucifer flew toward Heaven, a feeling of deep satisfaction nestled comfortably within him. Just before he reached the gate, a force of unfathomable power seized his Grace and paralyzed his wings, holding him aloft.
"What have you done?" Michael demanded in horror, his own wings flared in anger.
Lucifer smirked. "Do you see now, Michael? Do you see what you bowed to? See how unworthy they are? How corrupted?"
"You corrupted them," Michael spat. "Father—"
"Father chose those abominations over us!" Lucifer seethed. "He gave his love to creatures made of dust!"
"He has cast you out," Michael told him coldly.
Lucifer's pale eyes widened in shock. "Lies," he snapped.
"You think I am keeping you out, Lucifer?" Michael asked bitingly. "If I had that power, I would have used it long ago. But, I shall take great pleasure in keeping you out."
With a rush of wings, he surged forward and slammed his shoulder into Lucifer's chest, sending them both hurtling toward the Earth. Just before they hit the ground, Lucifer managed to grab one of his wings and hurl him away. With an agility not seen since the war with the Darkness, Michael twisted around and dove for Lucifer, driving him into the ground. The impact scorched the jungle around them into dead earth and sand for miles. Lucifer savagely kicked Michael away and stood. Michael leaped to his feet and the brothers drew their blades, circling one another, their wings flared in a terrifying display.
"You would subject us," Lucifer growled. "You would have us crawl on our faces in this mud and filth—"
"I would have us obey," Michael hissed.
"I will not bow to these abominations!" Lucifer roared and charged Michael.
Michael raised his blade to block the strike and the air rang with the clash. Black clouds rolled over the land and lightning flashed white and hot.
"Then, you will fall!" Michael's voice was cold as he punched Lucifer's Grace with his own, causing the Morningstar to stagger back with a gasp of pain. He raised his blade over Lucifer's head, not waiting for him to recover to continue the fight.
"NO!" Gabriel's shriek cut through the thunder. "Michael! Lucifer! Stop!"
The youngest Archangel dove between his brothers, desperate to stop the fight. Michael's blade scored a deep gash across his chest and Lucifer knocked him aside with a ruthless, backhanded strike that sent him tumbling limply across the sand.
"Gabriel!" He could just hear Eliyon's voice over the roaring in his ears and he started to get up, only to find that he couldn't move. Hot blood, his Grace, poured down his front and his head throbbed in rhythm to the earth-shaking thunder.
Father, please don't let this happen…
Michael hesitated. Whether from the shock of Gabriel's suicidal intervention, or the fact that Lucifer hadn't hesitated to strike their youngest brother down, he wasn't sure. However, in that second, Lucifer attacked Michael side-on, slamming his blade into his brother's back and through the base of his middle right wing. Michael screamed in agony and Lucifer held him there, gripping his throat and jaw with his free hand. Then, his eyes devoid of mercy, of all traces of what had once made him Michael's brother, he twisted his sword, ripping through the flesh and muscle, breaking the bones apart as he angled the blade up and forced it through the base of Michael's topmost wing.
Michael's scream cracked the very ground and the sob that forced its way into it made it the most horrible sound Gabriel had ever heard. Michael's knees buckled and he gripped Lucifer's wrist with his left hand in a desperate attempt to stay upright, only to have his brother tear the blade free and shove him to the ground. Michael stayed down, his wings nearly severed from his back, his right arm—his sword arm—numb and useless, trembling with agony, crystalline tears sliding down his face.
Lucifer laughed, a pitiless rumble deep in his chest.
"There, Michael. That's the position you favored so much," he hissed, striding around to Michael's wounded side. He swapped his gore-coated sword to his left hand and reached down to force his brother against the ground.
Michael gasped and groaned, a pitiful sound that made his diminishing Grace build with wrath.
"You would keep me out?" Lucifer repeated his words at the gate in an amused tone. "Come on then, Brother. Let's see you try."
Michael's numb hand couldn't hold his sword any longer and he struggled to rise on his good arm. Each movement was pure agony and his wings felt as though they were going to finish tearing free under their own weight.
"No?" Lucifer mocked. "Well, that's a pity."
He gripped Michael's throat once more and hauled him to his feet. Michael groaned in pain and Lucifer placed the tip of his sword against his chest.
"My, how the proud have fallen," Lucifer remarked. He drew his arm back in preparation to drive it through Michael's heart.
With a cry of agony and defiance, Michael swung his wrist down and caught Lucifer's arm at the elbow, forcing it up and away from him so that the blade was at eye-level. His left hand he placed on Lucifer's chest and his eyes glowed with his wrath-fueled Grace. The Earth cracked open and a tremendous heat erupted from the fissure. Michael violently shoved Lucifer backward and the Morningstar cried out in fear as his hands grasped desperately at the edge. His midnight blue feathers began to smoke in the heat. Then, they caught fire. Lucifer shrieked in agony and desperate fear and met Michael's eyes one final time before the fissure slammed closed, swallowing the Fallen Archangel.
Michael sank to his knees, his breathing coming in ragged, agonized gasps. His Grace was dimming and his senses were leaving him. He could sense Raphael's approach and even without looking, he knew Gabriel was still collapsed in the sand. Then, for a moment he felt a third Grace of equal proportion. His own failing Grace flared in panic and he reached out, searching desperately for the source, bracing to feel a familiar chill, only to find nothing.
Lucifer was gone. The Earth was sealed.
Painfully, he craned his head to check on Gabriel and saw that bronze-winged Fledgling kneeling beside him, his little wings flared protectively.
Some part of him found that absurdly hilarious and a breathy laugh escaped him. A moment later, he collapsed face-first onto the ground, surrendering to oblivion.
Okay, let me say this. I don't like Michael. As I understand it, we aren't really supposed to like Michael. But my gosh, I didn't intend for all of that to happen! Geez, Lucifer, you are a sadistic youknowwhat! It made ME feel bad! I mean, yes, I intended for the base idea to take place because it sets the stage for a future event but...sorry, Michael...