He was known to do stupid things, well, in his opinion they were great ideas, it was just in other peoples minds that they were stupid idea, and watching as his master was hit over the head with the hilt of a sword and he was sent tumbling over the edge of the cliff they were currently battling on, it sent him into overdrive.
They had just got him back, they weren't ready to lose him again, and he wasn't sure if he was strong enough to take command of the messengers again.
So Zaveriel did the next best thing that came to mind, he threw his daggers to the side, starting in an immediate sprint, he dodged blows and swipes and jumped over the edge of the cliff. There were yells from behind, as others watched both archangel and captain disappear, but they went ignored.
His sole focus was on the limp body of his archangel tumbling down the rocky surface. How he managed to catch up to it is a mystery, but he managed to snake an arm around the Messengers midsection, in some mysterious way, the Messenger was much bigger then his arm was in length, he wasn't sure how he managed it, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth either.
They were quickly approaching the shear drop off, he could see it coming up quickly, and he reached out with his free hand for purchase. He felt the skin on his palm, his fingers, his entire hand, peel off bit by bit and he had to bite his tongue to keep from crying out. Blood mixed with sand soon enough, the evidence of his torn hand, he grit his teeth and dug his fingers into the hard surface, anything to catch himself, to stop their descent towards the drop off.
Their weight combined, of course, didn't help in slowing them down in the slightest measure. He grappled all that much more when the drop off started drawing nearer and nearer, refusing to let his master go again, he'd suffer the stripping of his palm and fingers time and time again before losing the Messenger again. The sand and stony surface was like sand paper though, and the pain in his skinned hand was beginning to get harder to ignore, and this time he did cry out in pain.
Finally, his hand caught onto a stone, curling around it to form a red ring of fingers, but it was at the last minute as they went tumbling over the edge of the cliff. He grit his teeth, his skinned hand gripping at their only catch for all that he was worth, while the other clung to the Messengers shirt as much as he could. Knowing that his strength would sooner give out in his arm, he wrapped his legs around the Messenger middle, locking his ankles together, he made a noise of alarm as his hand started slipping from above.
The blood was making the stone slick, and his grip was slipping away, quite literally.
Zaveriel grit his teeth, looking down to the archangel that hung precariously from his crossed legs and free hand gripping at his lower back.
"Gabe." He grappled to reaffirm his grip "Now would be a really great time to wake up."
Blood was dripping down from the crack on the Messengers temple, tripping down the hair that hung in his face, and Zaves grunted as he reaffirmed his grip on his master much easier then he did on the ledge.
"Please, Gabe, please." His grip was beginning to fail him, his hand was already weak from being skinned, the rock slick with his blood, he could feel his grip losing itself, thus he was not above begging. "I need you to wake up!"
There was still no response from the archangel, and he groaned as the last of his strength seemed to trickle away, like water through a stream, and his fingers gave out. Zaves curled around his archangels middle, flipping them around midfall, as if to cushion him when they made impact. He was willing to give his life for his archangel. Any member of an archangels legion as willing to give their life for their archangel.
He closed his eyes tightly, pressing himself deep into the Messengers chest, preparing for the impact that was soon to be had.
Just as he was sure they were going to hit the ground, the arms that had hung limply at his sides, curled around him tightly. Their descent was stopped so suddenly, in one great swoop of magnificent golden wings, that he went weightless for a moment, and then they began to climb upwards again. The wing beats of the Messenger echoing in his ears, he looked up, from under the Messengers chin, to see Gabriel himself looking upwards too, as he flew them back up to the mountain top.
The archangel landed smoothly on the top of the mountain, where the others stood in surprise, and had it not been for the arms curled around him at the moment, he would have fallen to the ground in shock.
A hand gently pried away his left, the one that had been skinned, undoubtedly feeling the blood seeping through the shirt.
"What happened?"
The Messenger sounded confused, as though he didn't remember what happened, and from the blow he took it most certainly wouldn't come as a surprise if he didn't.
"You got whipped over the head with a blade."
He nodded, not understanding what that had to do with the state of his young captains hand, "Okay?"
"You went over the side of the mountain."
"And what does that have to do with Za—"
"Zaves jumped over after you."