Category: Darksiders I & II
Rating: T
Couples: Azrael/Abaddon, Zeruch(War)/OC
Warnings: AU, Disturbing Imagery
Chapter: 48
Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me
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Zeruch flew right behind Abaddon's second in command. After them a long procession of warriors followed. The Nephilim tried to keep his head up high and give a strong impression to the world around him, but deep within him he felt tired and a deep sorrow. It was now official: his Nephilim-family was gone, no way to get them back, short of jumping into the Well. It didn't help that he nearly had lost Uncle during the battle. He mentally swore is going to pamper Orth for a long while for saving Abaddon, despite they both disliking each other. Seeing the Golden Gates up ahead, Zeruch schooled his face into a more neutral expression.
"They're here..." Gabriel slumped in relief, smiling lightly at the cheers starting in the crowd.
"Not all of them." Azrael paled beside her. "Where is Abaddon!?"
Normally Zeruch would relish the cheering, especial after a successful battle, but now it felt hollow. With slow wingbeats, he headed with the other non-wounded officers through the gates.
Abaddon only vaguely heard the cheering; he was wondering how the angels were doing on front, how Zeruch was doing. He had been forced to kill his own people for the sake of the Balance.
Gabriel pushed off from where she was standing, gliding down to Zeruch with Azrael at her back. "Zeruch!" She threw her arms around his neck. "Oh Creator, you are alright..." She was nearly crying in relief... well, who was she kidding, she was actually crying in relief.
Embracing Gabriel, Zeruch felt some of the tension leave from his body. "It's alright Gabriel, no need to cry." He could hear the soft sobbing from her. Looking around, he whispered: "Have you seen my Father?"
"I lost two men I loved to War already, let me be relieved I did not lose the third." The female angel kissed him briefly before looking over her shoulder.
"It is a relief to see you well." Azrael smiled warmly at his son, moving closer now that the two lovers no longer needed the privacy.
"Good to be home again." Zeruch's face fell a bit as he remembered the state Abaddon was in. "Father, I need to tell you something about Uncle."
"He's... he is not... dead, is he?" The Gatekeeper's wings tightened behind his back. Creator, no...
Blinking and suddenly realising how he might sound, the warrior quickly added: "No, no, he is not dead, Creator praise Him." Zeruch wouldn't know how he would be able to handle himself if that would ever happen. "He was wounded during battle. His wing... is badly hurt."
"Knowing him, he'll try to punch it better, no doubt." Azrael weakly joked. "Oh Creator." He hugged his son tightly. "You... darned people... I should have come along to keep you two out of trouble."
His son smiled back at him after the hug. "You know Uncle and I, a bunch of war-mongering brutes." He sighed. "The wounded and the fallen are coming now. Uncle is riding on Orth. It's thanks to her that he survived."
"Did I mess the memo where this family got reshuffled?" Gabriel looked at her lover. "Orth saved Abaddon!? How did you manage to make her do that!?"
"She did that all by herself. Naya'il was in a daze when she described what Orth did to the Nephilim who managed to get to Abaddon. Even he was in a daze."
Azrael snorted. "I told him having a bond with an Ortho would help." He looked around as Gabriel moved back to her lover. "He's leading the wounded, I assume?"
Wrapping his arm over Gabriel's waist, Zeruch nodded at his father.
Mumbling darkly, Abaddon landed with Orth on the ground a short distance away from his family. "I know, I know: you are furious at me for mucking up your pristine coat. You vain beast." Despite his words, he patted the ortho's neck. "Thank you, though." Looking around, he searched for his family.
Orth phooted at that, shaking herself before preening some of her feathers quite demonstrably.
"Abaddon..." Azrael breathed in relief, heading over to the General. "Thank the Creator..."
"Azrael." The General grinned to the scholar, hoping he didn't notice the bandaged wing too much. "Aren't you a sight for the sore eyes."
"You... you..." Azrael was trembling now that Abaddon was up close and he could see the bandaged limb. "You utter and complete bastard..."
Stopping in his tracks, Abaddon began to reconsider to approach Azrael. It was never a good sign if he was that angry. Holding up both his hands, Abaddon calmly spoke: "Azrael, I can explain..."
"Oh, you can explain!?" The scholar marched over to the General, poking him in his chest while his wings were wide-spread with his anger. "You can explain!? You... you..."
Sighing out loud, Abaddon explained: "Look, I tried to keep the losses minimal from our side. And..."
"DO YOU THINK THAT IS WHAT YOU HAVE TO EXPLAIN!?" Azrael exploded, pulling the General closer to him. "You... I fucking..."
"You meant my wing?" Abaddon waved carelessly away. "Nephilim got lucky, didn't got to celebrate for long since that hellbeast got her talons on them." He pointed at the ortho still preening herself. "I'm sure the healers can fix it, after they studied the wound."
"You..." Azrael snarled, briefly trembling with his anger. "I..." His hand shot out, slapping Abaddon against the side of his face. "I DON'T CARE ABOUT ANY OF THAT!"
Losing his patience, Abaddon snarled back: "What do you want!"
"A BIT OF WARNING!" Azrael snarled. "Do you have any idea how I felt when the entire bloody Hellguard came back and YOU were nowhere to be seen, you thrice-damned warrior!? For a while I feared you had died!"
"Well, pardon me for not having the thought of sending you a message that I'm in the back! Knowing you, you would have headed straight to Zeruch, so he could have relayed you that I was alive and well." Throwing his hands in the air, he continued: "I was a bit busy with the wounded and the dead, Azrael!"
"That... that..." The scholar deflated, tears forming in his eyes. "that was not fast enough..."
Seeing the tears coming, Abaddon cooled down. He guessed the pain in his wing and the loss made him more cross to his friend. "Old friend, please. I'm fine, and our son is fine. And most of our men have returned." Cupping the scholar's cheek, he looked tired back. " We are still here, Azrael."
"You... you utter bastard..." Azrael flew up, smashing his lips against those of his fellow parent, clinging to him.
Liplocking with Azrael, Abaddon held him close. "Knowing you, you won't mind that too much." He mumbled soft.
"Shut up." The scholar demanded sharply, bringing their heads together again.
"Well..." Gabriel looked at the angel next to her. "I assume you'll be staying at my place for the forseeable future?"
"That would be advisable, yes." Zeruch shook his head. His parents were weird, sometimes.
Abaddon wrapped his unwounded wing around Azrael.
As Azrael deepened the kiss, around them slowly cheers of a different kind started building. Cheers that included quite some catcalls...
"They made the day of the City at least..." Gabriel snorted, turning to her lover, reaching up to pull his head down.