Category: Darksiders I & II
Rating: M
Couples: Azrael/Abaddon
Warnings: AU, Disturbing Imagery
Chapter:18
Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me
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Azrael was working on the collection of spells he'd need to grow wings. Even merely re-growing them would have been a formidable task, but growing wings where there had never been any? If this worked out, he'd declare it something of a small miracle.
His work was rudely interrupted when someone smashed open his door. Barely keeping his ink from spilling, he rose to his feet to demand an answer from whoever marched inside.
"Abaddon!" His voice was more a squeak when the General rounded the desk and yanked him to the nearest wall. "What in Heaven's name do you think you are doing!?"
Abaddon did not answer, pressing the scholar against the smooth rock. "What do you think you are doing?" The bulkier male snarled. "Have you gone insane?"
"What are you talking about?" Struggling against the fists clutching his clothes, he winced at the pain arching through his wings from the position.
"The Nephilim-child." The warrior growled. "What possessed you to bring one of those things into the City!?"
"I... what?" Paling Azrael's eyes flew over to the window. He had not heard anything. How had the General found out!?
"Tell me." Abaddon demanded, almost shaking his long-time friend.
"I had to." The scholar's throat was dry. "Did... what did you do to him?"
"You ought to have killed it." Letting go of the mystic, the taller male did not let him leave the wall. "It's a Nephilim."
"That looks like a little angelic boy." The Gatekeeper kept looking at the window. "What did you do to him!? Tell me you did not kill him!" He was starting to get panicked. The fact that no sound had reached his window meant little. No doubt Abaddon would be more than capable of killing the boy without the child even noticing. "Tell me!"
"It hardly matters at the moment." The taller male forced his slender friend to look back at him. "Why did you bring him here?"
"I could not leave him with the demons. He looks like a little angel! You know what they'd do with him." Azrael tried to free his face. "So did you hurt him or not!?" He demanded sharply.
"He's a Nephilim, you ought not to bother with him." Allowing the other male to get free, Abaddon darkly stated.
"That is not answering my question." The rune-winged male countered. "Abaddon, please!"
The taller male refused to answer, glaring at the mystic.
The question was answered when running feet sounded outside the room. "Az, Az!" Cradling something in his hands, Zeruch rushed into the room. "Bird hitted wall and won'ts move!" He held up a little ball of fluff.
Azrael nearly slumped with relief, reaching for the little animal. "He probably is just dizzy. Let me have a look." Throwing a grateful smile to the General of the Hellguard beside him, Azrael sat down on his chair again. "Perhaps you can find him something to rest on?"
Turning to Abaddon, Zeruch looked up with wide eyes. "Will you helps me?" He tugged on the cloth hanging down from the angel's waist.
The scholar smiled lightly when seeing the inward battle of the warrior. Sighing, Abaddon leaned down, pulling the child onto his arms. "Show me the way then."
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Death did not shoot up, it was something entirely too undignified for him to do. But a shudder ran down his back when he woke up, drenched in sweat. He was grateful that Fury had gone on a raid.
Panting, he shot out of the furs, rushing over to the other side of the tent. Strife was still breathing... It had been merely been a nightmare.
Falling to his knees beside his eldest, he tried to control his ragged breathing. At least, for now it was. Covering his face with his hands, he shivered. He had been more or less getting over the loss of his youngest, but... what had happened to the child?
He had given up searching for the little one. In the end, Fury had been right: there was just no use to risking the lives of three for the life of one.