Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. A. N. Prompt 17, "Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold."― Zelda Fitzgerald. I..uh, probably went kind of off topic, but I've learned that you don't question the archangel fucking Gabriel. ;D Not even in bunny form. (By the way, mutatis mutandis means 'made the necessary changes' - sorry, Latin slips in my stories.) POSSIBLE TRIGGERS: Referenced Self-harm, even if the kind only an angel could survive.
A Proper Angel
It's not like Gabriel hounds Aziraphale on how a proper angel should be just to be an asshole. Even if he has no doubts that, in a popularity contest, he wouldn't win. Not even in heaven. Good for him that heaven is not run the way some people seem to think works best. Then again, that's why they're humans.
As much as he'd love to tell himself that is the reason, he doesn't nag him for his own brother's sake and nothing else, either. Nobody should be able to criticise angels, for any reason. That should be obvious to any creature. He is in a higher position for a reason. It's his duty to oversee everyone, and make sure that God will be proud of them, whenever she decides to come back.
No, the truth is – he needs to keep Aziraphale behaving for his own reassurance. The Fall was bad enough. But everyone else had passed the test, hadn't they? They were good. They were obedient. They wouldn't have anything to be ashamed of, in all eternity. They could take a sigh of relief. And then, Aziraphale. Oh, sure, there are so many little ways the principality isn't so perfect, after all. His corporation. His looks. His abode. There's a general...skirting the border of what is acceptable. And if Aziraphale can still fail (fall, maybe, should mum be back?) they all can. Gabriel included.
He needs to rein Aziraphale in, because the truth is – if he doesn't, he might be next. To make a terrible, unforgivable mistake. One that would ultimately destroy him. They're enemies. Mirror images of a sort; similar positions, mutatis mutandis. Similar headaches, Gabriel assumes. When the apocalypse starts, Gabriel wouldn't be surprised if they met in the field. One will kill the other. Possibly it'll be reciprocal (the only thing that can ever be reciprocal between them). In fact, he shouldn't even spare a thought for them. Not until then. But he does think about Beelzebub. Too often.
For a while, he assumed it was loathing. That would certainly be acceptable. But, like the flies that they are, Beelzebub keeps buzzing around in his mind. And, when he tries to chase them away, they try to sting lower. His heart... No, there's room only for God there. That was the whole point of it, wasn't it? Being faithful. An obedient instrument. Sometimes, an instrument of destruction. But you need to cut off the damaged parts to keep the whole clean.
He's safe. He should be safe. Besides, Michael is the one to keep the contacts with downstairs, the odd time it's necessary. Avoiding temptation can be the better part of valour, sometimes. The last thing he needs is to set up a meeting with his counterpart, and be forced to be civil to them. That's a slippery slope.
He'll guard his heart, and his body, and his wardrobe, even. Stay upstairs, as long as Aziraphale doesn't cause something that will force him to personally take things in hand. Maybe, if he has enough peace, he'll forget Belzeebub altogether. At least until the day he'll have to kill them. Knowing his host (and that specific principality's penchant for being too human, and worse) there's not much of a chance of that happening, sadly.
He refuses to have to fear Metatron (and mum). No mistakes are allowed. He might fear his own self every now and then, but it doesn't matter. He has control. Over the other angels, himself, and everything else. He's pure. And he'll stay that way, no matter how many things need cutting. (He'd cut out his own heart, if necessary, but no. Not yet. He needs it to properly worship, doesn't he?)
