Category: Darksiders I & II
Rating: M
Couples: Azrael/Abaddon
Warnings: AU, Disturbing Imagery
Chapter:34
Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me
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"You beat up two of your classmates." Azrael's voice was toneless after he read the missive from his son's teacher. "Explain."
"They were taunting me and I got mad." The younger male murmured.
"What were they saying that you got mad enough to start attacking?" The Scholar put the scroll aside.
"Is it really important? I was in the wrong, anyway." Zeruch was sulking; he didn't want to repeat again what they had said.
"It is for me?" Azrael moved closer, lifting Zeruch's chin up so he could look at his son. "This isn't like you, Zeruch. I want to know why this happened."
"I don't want to... repeat what they said."
"Zeruch." Azrael stated strictly. "I want to know, because either you severely overreacted – which is unlikely - or they were VERY offensive."
Giving up, Zeruch said. "They told me I was undeserving of my adoption. Should have been put back in the slums or that I was more demon than angel. Can we talk about something else?"
Azrael sighed, looking between his son and the scroll. "For now, yes. Go wash up, dinner will probably be served soon."
The teen dashed upstairs in a hurry. Once he finished, he noticed that he wasn't that hungry anyway. He still could hear his their words in his mind. They weren't wrong; he wasn't an angel. And what disturbed him the most: he had loved punching their smug faces in. It felt... gratifying and freeing. All his tension was gone. Maybe they were right...
Walking into the diningroom, Abaddon shooed away Orth from himself. "We need to train her to stop attaching herself to my boots." He stared angrily at the fnooting ortho. "Spoilt mollycoddled pet."
"Abaddon, when will you stop that?" Azrael looked on as the animal bounced over to Zeruch for yet another attempt at cheering him up.
"Until she stops attacking my boots." The General retorted back. "Hello Zeruch, how was school?"
Leaning down, Zeruch petted Ortho on her head. "Was alright."
"For the most part." Azrael corrected him, gesturing to a scroll on the table. "He got into a fight."
"What?!" Abaddon grabbed the scroll and read through it. "You fought with TWO of your classmates? Why did You fight with two of your classmates?"
"They insulted him and his family." Azrael answered for Zeruch.
"And why would they do that?" He frowned, looking from Zeruch to Azrael and back.
"Was not a big deal" Zeruch mumbled moody about all of this.
"It was a big deal, since you attacked them." Abaddon's voice was stern.
"Jealousy, I assume." Azrael mused. "He did come from no background and then went and got US as his parents... I suspect some look less than favourable on him for that."
Abaddon looked at Zeruch. "You know better to start a fight with ignorant people." Sitting down at the table, the General added. "Zeruch, I think it's time we have a talk about your... situation. Azrael, can you ward off this room so we can talk without worrying about curious ears?"
"I'd sincerely want to know who'd dare to spy on my home." Azrael muttered, but did as the other angel asked. "There, short of the Charred Council or Samael, I sincerely doubt anyone can get past those."
"You'll be surprised what people love to gossip about," Abaddon made a face: he was too familiar how quickly the rumour mill could spin. "So, can you explain yourself? What has been going on the last few weeks?"
"Tis nothing." The teen grumbled, staring down at the plate in front of him.
"There is certainly something." Azrael gestured to the scroll. "We're not angry, Zeruch, but you have changed. It's... concerning. Your grades are suddenly failing, most of the time you are pacing around like some caged Ortho, you snap at everybody, even at Damianah, and now even getting into fights! It's not like you at all."
"I'm fine..."
"No you're not!"
Azrael reached out one hand to rest it on Abaddon's arm. "If you are fine, what is going on? You know you can tell us if you have some trouble."
Zeruch couldn't hold it in any longer at that. "FINE, EVERYTHING IS WRONG WITH ME!" He almost jumped up and began to pace in agitation. "I can't concentrate because I want punch, no, destroy something. I keeping getting these urges to... I don't know! People are keeping telling me that I shouldn't be here, because I'm acting more like demon than angel. And also..." Zeruch kept on ranting all his frustrations out.
Azrael looked at him with something akin to sadness in his eyes. "I was afraid of this." Getting up, he reached for Zeruch. "Could this be something natural to Nephilim?"
"I don't know." Standing still, he glazed unfocused at a wall. "During the fight and shortly after, I felt calm for the first time in weeks. I could think clearly again." The next few words were spoken in soft voice. "I loved beating them up."
Azrael blinked a few times at that. "Then I suspect this might indeed be part of his Nephilim-nature." He looked at his fellow parent.
Abaddon sighed. "Perhaps you need a way to, lets say, vent your frustrations."
"Abaddon..." Azrael muttered darkly. "Stop using everything as an excuse to try and get him into those early classes."
"I'm not trying to get him in the early classes, not this time." Irritated and insulted by Azrael, Abaddon gestured at Zeruch. "He needs something to get rid off his need to fight and unlike the Nephilim, we cannot throw him at enemies. "
"I can fight off the urge." Zeruch felt bad making his parents worry about him.
"Not forever and we shouldn't let it to reach it to boiling point and spill it over to hair trigger violence." Abaddon reached out towards his son.
"Having Zeruch fall comatose every evening is also not going to solve the problem." Azrael pointed out. "I'd much prefer if we can think of something else."
Abaddon pulled a face. "I'm not going to train him till he falls over, Azrael."
"No, your teachers will." Azrael dryly countered. "Let's have those classes be plan T or something, shall we?"
Rolling with eyes and muttering about how the mystic has no confidence in his fellow warriors, Abaddon then proposed: "Well then, we could try meditation for Zeruch?"
"Meditation? I can hardly sit still!" No way that could help him!
"It is worth a try." Azrael answered. "Or do you want to risk beating up even more people?"
"No, but..." Zeruch exhaled and looking even more down. "I barely can concentrate on my own studies, so how can I get myself to do that?!"
"Well, that's the point of meditation... to get concentration." Azrael smiled gently. "How do you think I deal with Abaddon on a daily basis? Half of my time in the Argent Spire is just meditating to deal with him."
"Uhmm, I can try I guess." The boy stared at his father while wondering how he would be able to empty his head.
"Can't do much more than that." Azrael briefly smirked at Abaddon. "We can meditate together then. Will you join us, Abaddon?"
"After I've eaten my fill." The General rubbed his temple.
Despite everything, that made Zeruch chuckle.
"Glad that made you happy."
"Family-bonding via Meditation." Azrael chuckled as well. "Well, there's worse things to bond over..."