Category: Darksiders I & II
Rating: M
Couples: Azrael/Abaddon
Warnings: AU, Disturbing Imagery
Chapter:22
Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me
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Abaddon held the panting child as Azrael briefly collapsed in exhaustion. "It's over. You did well." He gently caressed the sweating brow. "Very well indeed."
"I... I crieds..." Zeruch sniffled, slowly letting go of the death-grip he had on the angel's fur. "I was weak."
"No." The General briefly stretched his arms before returning to hold the boy. "You held out longer than many others would have." Smiling lightly, he reached out to poke the small wings. "And look, you have wings now."
Several owlish blinks informed the elder angel that the boy had not even realized that. "I does?" He seemed almost hesitant to turn around and confirm it himself.
"Pretty certain you do." Abaddon flicked one of the wings, grinning a bit when it twitched in answer.
They kept twitching as Zeruch's new muscles spasmed at their wakening nerves. "I... I got wings..." Slowly the child turned around, wide blue eyes mapping out the feathers on his new appendages. "I gots wings!" Then his eyes strayed to the angel lying prone on the bed and the General could see the blood drain from his face. "Az...?"
"He's resting." The warrior spluttered when he got hit in the face by wings. Zeruch rushed over to the scholar, trembling as he started to shake the slender male. "Zeruch!" Pulling the child back from Azrael, his white eyes widened when having to hold the child from squirming free. "Creator, calm down!"
"HE DEAD!" Zeruch wailed, desperately trying to get free. "I killeds him too!"
"He's not dead." In his surprise, Abaddon lost his grip on the little Nephilim. Creator, where had that come from!? And then he remembered: the middle brother, who had been killed while being distracted during assuring his little brother would be safe. "Zeruch, he will be fine."
"He dieds..." Tears streamed down the small face as his trembling hands reached for the scholar. "He nots moving."
"He is moving." Crawling over, the Leader of the Hellguard wrapped one arm around the trembling child. "Feel." Using his free hand, he pressed the trembling one of the boy to Azrael's silk-covered chest. "He's breathing. He's fine. Just very tired."
The trembling grew less as Zeruch registered the slow and steady rise and fall of the Archangel's chest. The tears however, did not. "What... what if he still gonna...?"
"He won't." Soothingly caressing the white-haired head in front of him, Abaddon wrapped his wings around the boy. "He is just sleeping for a bit. Growing your wings wasn't easy." He knew the little Nephilim wouldn't actually fully believe him until the scholar actually woke up again, but there you go.
They sat in silence after that, only the young one's sniffles filling the room with sound.
"He's not waking..." Zeruch whimpered softly, starting to reach for the elder angel again.
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Azrael was greeted with the sound of silent sobs. Why was someone crying? Forcing his eyes open, he looked towards the source of the noise.
"You awake!" Someone wailed, colliding with the scholar's exhausted body and giving him a frantic hug.
"Zeruch...?" Disoriented, the Gatekeeper pushed himself upright somewhat. "What...?"
"You had him completely frantic." Abaddon's deep chuckle came from the foot-end of the bed. "The poor boy thought he had killed you when you staid unconscious. Refused to leave your side."
"Oh..." Wrapping his own arms around the child, Azrael soothingly caressed his platinum hair. "It's alright now, I'm fine."
In answer the boy just burrowed deeper into his robes. "I'm sorry... Please don't die..."
"Ssshhh..." Kissing the small head softly, the scholar whispered softly. "I won't die on you, little one, don't worry."
"I dun wanna lose another family..." Whimpering, Zeruch clung to the Archangel. "Dun leave me, daddy."
The exclamation came as a shock to Azrael. "Da... daddy? Did you call me 'daddy' just now?"
Realizing what he had just said, the child froze up. He felt dumb for suddenly shouting that out. He really liked Azrael: he took care of him, he was nice to him, he tried to help find his real family and when he couldn't, he still wanted him. He even gave him nice wings! But surely he didn't want to be called 'daddy'...
"Zeruch... Look at me?" Azrael tilted the child's head up as Abaddon said nothing. "Do you want me to be your daddy?"
"I would like to... But I can understand if you don't wanna... I am not an angel." Zeruch mumbled and his wings drooped, mirroring his feelings.
Hesitating briefly, the scholar in the end wrapped both his arms and his wings around him. "I'd be honoured to be your father, Zeruch."
Looking at the angel in surprise, wings lifting up in joy, the little Nephilim asked in astonishment. "Really? You don't mind if I call you... 'daddy'?" He felt himself becoming lighter with happiness.
"Only if you don't mind if I call you 'son'." Azrael pressed a kiss to the boy's forehead.
Wings flapping in excitement, Zeruch jumped against his father and hugged him with all his might. "Thank you, daddy."
"The pleasure is all mine... my son." Azrael answered, pulling the boy close.
Zeruch felt ecstatic at hearing Azrael acknowledge him as his son. For the longest while, he thought he would never have a family again. But now he had a father! Despite losing his siblings, at least he was not all alone anymore now that he had a father.
Azrael just held the child close, enjoying the realization that he now had a child, not merely a ward. He sighed softly, caressing the boy's snow-white hair. Opposite of them, Abaddon smiled warmly at the scene, slowly making his way off the bed. "I'll inform Damiana that she ought to prepare a feast."