So fall in love
And do a lot of drugs
To help you justify
Your teenage suicide"
Cottonwood Firing Squad
Uriel paced back and forth, enraged. She stood before a group of Angels, practically ready to go on a murder spree of the room.
"I sent you down here with clear instructions," she began, "And all you're doing is lazing around when we have all these mortals offing themselves when it's our job to help them."
Another Angel leaned against a wall, dressed in much the same garb as Uriel, interjected, "Rather than exploding on them, Uriel, it might do well to continue our search for Ramiel, she's still at large."
Uriel spun on her heel, locking eyes with the new speaker, "Michael," she sighed, her shoulders slumping in tiredness. Michael walked over, her boots clicking on the tile as she reached Uriel, putting an arm around her shoulders, guiding her away.
"You're tired love, you need rest." Michael continued softly, pulling off her own officer's cap and shaking out her hair, before replacing it.
"I can't rest, Michael," Uriel replied, "There's too much work to do, too little time, and our subordinates-"
Michael hushed her with a finger to opposite's lips, "I know," the woman commiserated, "I know. But it's not just your job, Uriel, you don't need to play leader of the pack here. We're all here to help you with this.
"I know that, just…" Uriel trailed off, "It's so hard to help them."
"It will be," Michael answered solemnly, "But we have to push on, else we'll just get overwhelmed."
Uriel just nodded, breaking away from the taller Angel's grasp and continued walking down the hallway.
"How is he?"
"Sleeping, at least now,"
Justice sat against the white wall, shoulders slumped in tiredness. Even as she tried to keep at least a sliver of cheer in her voice, Uriel could tell the woman was breaking down, one bad situation after another hadn't been kind to her, and all the stress, the anxiety and fear of failure had finally seeped in.
Softly, the woman began to weep, though her eyes were hidden, the Archangel caught the telltale gleam on her cheeks as she walked over to check on the comatose teen.
"Damnit," the demon woman cursed, her voice shaking with too much emotion, and all of it boiling over, "God fucking damn it all!" She raged, slamming a fist into the wall.
She sighed heavily, attempting to compose herself and moving to the opposite side of the bed, gently shooing Uriel away. Uriel, seemingly sensing the tension, smartly vacated the room.
"Why can't you just give up? You'll just hurt yourself trying to help me."
Justice picked him up as he spoke weakly, hugging him close to her chest,
"Because I care about you,"
"Only because you're supposed to."
Justice only hugged him tighter, "You're so wrong it's almost cute, it's not just the job anymore, if it was, I wouldn't keep trying to help."
"I'm not giving up on you. Not now, not ever." She finished, setting him back down.
"What if I've just given up on myself?"
"Then we'll figure it out. I promise."
"Okay…" He replied after a minute, soft, subdued, almost.
Justice ruffled his hair and stood, helping him from the bed and to the bathroom. At his inevitable protest, she simply gave him a look and admonished,
"I'm just helping," She promised, "I won't get touchy, I swear."
Marcus gave her a look of his own, retorting matter of factly, "I can do it myself." Justice grabbed him, pulled him into the bathroom, tugged his pants off, and turned away in one fluid motion.
"Go," She spoke flatly.
And he did.
Justice guided him out, and sat him down on the counter, draping him in her suit coat with a pat. He kinda half-smiled then, but it quickly faded from his face as he curled into the warmth of the velvet-lined jacket. Tiredly, the demon cooked them both a simple meal, before she put her dish and his in the sink once they finished and picked him up, taking him back to bed.
"I wonder sometimes," He spoke quietly, "What the world would be like without me. Would it change?"
"I don't know, kiddo. But you're here, and the best thing to do is make the most of it." She replied, "That's all we can do."
He turned over and she brushed his hair back, looking back as he held her arm.
"Don't leave me here alone"
She looked down, meeting his eyes with what he could swear was sadness. She smiled, a bright, glowing thing, as she held him close; murmuring softly to calm him.
"I'm won't, kid," She said quietly, "I won't."
Justice rose quickly and stood up, stretching; The demon let out a soft groan as she did so and looked back to see her charge looking up at her sleepily. Wordlessly, she leaned down and planted a small kiss on his forehead, before she pulled her jacket over her shoulders and donned her gloves and signature shades.
The Awesome Demon grinned and flashed a pair of finger guns at her reflection, to which it simply followed her actions, as mirrors often did.
She chuckled a bit and her smile dimmed back to just under heart-stopping, as Judgement would say. Marcus drifted into the bathroom behind her and closed the door with nary a squeak.
He felt like crying, like screaming, like raging at himself, if only to release the emotion roiling around his chest, like-!
"Hey, kiddo," Justice spoke quietly through the door, "You've been in there a while, are you doing okay?"
He shook, swallowing a lump in his throat as he shakily replied, "I'm-I'm alright, Justice…"
"You sure? You want me to come in?"
He gripped the shower rail, remaining silent.
"Marcus, I swear on Yahweh and Satan themselves, if you don't answer within 15 seconds, I'm kicking the door in like a damn SWAT team."
"I'm not okay!" He yelled through the door, "I was useless! I could've gotten myself out of the situation if I'd only tried, I carry a knife for a reason!. And I…" He choked back a sob, "And I… I didn't do anything!"
Marcus collapsed against the door, trying to stop crying, trying to steady his breathing.
"Get yourself under control. Just breathe and take a minute" His mind spoke up, ever its clinical, self loathing, hateful, personage. "Now's not the time to pity yourself," Another voice jumped in, "We've got a job to do, and a rogue Angel to deal with"
Marcus rose, slow and measured, dressed and opened the door in one fluid motion, marching out and grabbing Justice gently by the arm, leading her out of the room to find the two resident Archangels.
Michael took Uriel by the shoulder as Marcus quickly waved the two over, away from the bustle of Angels after Uriel's enraged rant.
"Okay, here goes…" He started.
"YOU WHAT?!" Justice almost screamed in his face, "I'm not having you risk yourself for this." She spoke through gritted teeth, strained and emotional, "Not until you can prove you'll be safe." The teen huffed, as did the demon, before the Archangel of War interjected.
"This may be the best shot we have, "Justice," was it?"
"I'm still against this, very, very against this."
"I understand why, I'm somewhat against it myself, if I'm honest. But," Uriel cleared her throat, "It's most likely the best idea we'll get in this situation though." The Angel woman sighed heavily.
"Ramiel is crafty," Michael agreed, "She'll know if we're looking for her, and if that happens, we lose her for good."
"Send it through the chain." Marcus piped up, "Certainly there's someone you trust to get the message to the right people, yeah?"
"Azazel." The two Archangels spoke in unison before Michael nodded to Uriel and disappeared in a flash of gold.
Within a half-minute, the Archangel returned with a shorter Angel in tow. This shorter one, Azazel, Marcus assumed rightly, was dressed more casually than the two generals, in what looked to be a white and gold zip up jumpsuit. Above her raven-black hair hovered a golden halo along with a pen and pad in her hands.
"Now, the prelims are done, so to speak. Now onto the next part."
"Next part isn't any doubt," Justice responded, tilting her shades down on her nose and cracking her knuckles, "Kill the bitch."
Michael's shoulders slumped at that, "As much as I would love to help, I can't allow that."
Justice's eyebrow twitched.
Michael was saved from furious immolation by Marcus, "We discussed it between us three, a little while back" The teen clarified, "If you do it, there's a chance you don't just become a lower demon, you're liable to be thrown in the Void."
"You mean the Abyss?"
"No," Uriel responded then, "The Void is just that, a pure void where nothing exists, I've heard it described as "God's paper shredder""
Justice paused at that, then conceded, "Fine, then what's the plan when and if we catch Ramiel?"
Michael sighed, "We let Yahweh and Christ deliberate."
"It's the best we have, but doesn't mean we can't make her suffer a bit before we let them take her"
The two Archangels nodded in unison and moved away, quickly issuing orders to various more Angels; Justice hooked an arm around Marcus and hefted him up, "We're getting a set of gifts for you, little buddy. Clothes chief among them," The Demon laughed, "No offense, but you need some new threads, and I know a great tailor."
"They say clothes make the demon, so, how do you feel?"
Marcus was dressed in much the same themed attire as his caretaker, A black jacket emblazoned with a silver cross on the back, with a balancing scale acting as it's arms, red button down, and plain black slacks. A small ruby sword pendant hung from his neck, a personal gift from both Justice and the Tailor, the two shared a knowing smirk with each other and nodded, before the teen replied, "Certainly better, but what do I owe you, You can't, and I won't, just accept this as free."
"We already worked that out, don't worry about it." The Tailor retorted, "Now, get outta here, humans can't stay long in Hell. Especially with low willpower like yours."
Justice ushered him out of the shop and they appeared in the snow just outside of Marcus' old apartment building, The woman quickly pulled him along, being sure to keep him close. For his part, the teen snuggled into the demon's jacket, looking at the building with a mixture of pain and annoyance.
"Some gift, Mom and Dad…" He grumbled, "After you kicked me to the curb, and damned the consequences."
"Your parents got you the apartment? Judging by the look of the place, they must've poured all they had into buying it for you." Justice replied inquiringly, prompting a response,
"Sure, if you discount the fact of my uncle's putting about 20 bids to full pay an apartment for me, that I had no knowledge of until it was taken from me by said parents in an act of spite, because they were the proprietors of my assets until 7 months ago, or both sides of my grandparents being at least 5 figure salarymen."
"All my parents did to ever help me was buy that shitty apartment and teach me lessons I'd rather have learned through others, outside of experience." He continued, slumping against her, drained.
"I don't wanna talk about it anymore, let's just go."
Justice looked down at him, the gold buttons of her jacket hardly strained themselves, even as both of their frames pressed against the small disks, lifting him up, Justice continued to walk, turning slightly and slipping into a coffee shop, its warm embrace readying them for the next step.
Holy fuck is it done? The Author turns to a clone, which nods, before he collapses into a heap
Oh fucking finally, it's done!
Jokes aside, I'm terribly sorry to have been gone so long, I've been in abad way for a while, and haven't felt motivated to do much of anything.
Depression's an absolute bitch.
I just hope finishing this marks some change for the better.
Thank you all for sticking with me, Wish you all the luck and happiness.
It feels great to get a chapter out again
-Phoenix