Category: Darksiders I & II
Rating: T
Couples: Azrael/Abaddon, Zeruch(War)/OC
Warnings: AU, Disturbing Imagery
Chapter: 43
Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me
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"Thank you for meeting me like this." Zeruch greeted the female when he entered her home. He inwardly flinched when seeing that Naya'il had been right; Gabriel was dressed in what could only barely be considered appropriate for the level of their relationship. Oh Creator, what had he done? He should never have started this entire thing to begin with!
"Not a problem. I have the week off, so you chose an opportune moment to need a talk." Her voice was as it always was, so he couldn't even tell if she realized that he had not made this visit for a date. Inwardly he tensed while following her to her sitting-room. After Naya's not so gentle demands for the reasons of his hesitation, he had quickly realized that this was not a state their relationship could continue with. It was simply cruel to leave her hanging like that. Creator knew how long she had truly wanted to progress all this. "So what did you need to talk about that it was this short-hand? Normally we make these dates weeks beforehand."
"Well… Naya opened my eyes some things." He muttered, looking away a bit. Oh, how he longed to be small again and have Azrael be the one to deal with these kind of things! "Things I probably should have brought up a good while ago… before we got this far."
"Such as?" For most people, her face did not change, but after ten years of courtship he could see that she tensed ever so slightly.
"Well…" He took a deep breath. "Did you never wonder how come no one ever found my family? Or even just a mention of them and me?"
"I think a good part of Heaven itself wondered that at some point." She leaned back a little. "What does that have to do with you apparently having kept some important secret?"
"We always knew where I came from… we just couldn't get me there on time." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes.
"How come?" Came the inevitable question.
"I am a Nephilim." He spoke so quickly he felt like he didn't even breathe during that sentence, but the overwhelming silence from across him made it quite clear she had understood him.
The clear whoosh of a teleport made her answer very clear as well. He shrunk on his spot on her couch, waiting for the inevitable guards that would no doubt be summoned at this very moment.
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After millennia of living together, they had settled in a comfortable routine. Currently, they were at the daily cuddling-stage, something they did not nearly get as much as the prefix 'daily' would make people hope and believe. So when someone teleported into the lower floor of their home – a privilege reserved only for themselves and their son in emergencies – neither was particularly happy. Abaddon was halfway down the stairs by the time Azrael had fixed his dishevelled house-robes.
"Gabriel!?" The bulky warrior demanded sharply. "What are you doing here? At this hour?"
"And that outfit." Azrael added while joining his housemate – or husband-to-be, as most of Heaven put it.
"You… What were you thinking!?" She instead demanded, her own mystical energies making the air around her tremble.
Azrael flinched, finding that it was awfully similar to what Abaddon had demanded of him millennia ago. "I take it you found out about Zeruch?"
"He told me." She hissed. "A Nephilim!?"
"Yes, a Nephilim." Abaddon countered vehemently. "What were we supposed to do? Kill him!? He was a child! He hid from you under Azrael's wing if I need to believe the both of you."
"Abaddon." The scholar warned his fellow parent. "Gabriel. I can only imagine how you feel considering what his… kin are doing, but think about this; what did this revelation change? Did it change the last millennia? Did it change him?"
"It…" She flinched, backing away from the two males. "He…"
"Gabriel." Azrael softened his voice, closing the distance between them. "Yes or no? It's a simple question."
"You know it's not!" Her wings snapped around her body, surrounding her like a shield. "They… they killed him, Azrael."
"Yes, they killed Simiel. But Zeruch never fought for them. He was raised here. With our ideals, our values and rules." Behind him, Abaddon deflated at the reminder of one of their friends, Gabriel's third husband… who had died in a skirmish with the people of the man she was currently courting. "Is he any less an angel just for having Lilith involved in his birth?"
"I… I guess not." She refused to look at him, being almost a ball of feathers. "But…"
"Yes?" Abaddon closed in as well, resting his hand on the top of her wings.
"Why only now?" Her eyes were shining with tears. "Why would he only tell me now? Ten years into the courtship."
"When should he have told you then? It's not something one can do easily." The General countered dryly. "I'd like to see a conversation where one can point out that one is not the race people think."
Azrael groaned lightly at that statement, earning a microscopic smile from their friend. "Besides, look at it like this; he obviously trusts you immensely to tell you this. You should be honoured."