Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's "Preacher." Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: Based on the popular fan theory that Fiore and Deblanc are actually Genesis parents. I wanted to examine their backstory a bit and ended up getting ahead of myself, so-
Disclaimer:canon appropriate violence, blood, gore, injury, death, religious imagery/definitions/symbolism/discussion, mild sexual content.
Temenos
Chapter Two
It became something of a routine after that.
Something to look forward too.
Something that fulfilled him more than the act of killing itself.
Something more.
Something powerful.
In truth, the next time the angel found him.
And just like before, all the warning he had was the sound of wings slicing through dead air. Jolting himself awake just in time to watch the Adelphi land in the middle of the nest he'd chosen for the night. Fist to the dirt in the churned up muck before he rose to his feet - avenging and powerful. Eyes finding his through the gloom like it was more than just chance. Looking distinctly unmoved by the screams as he raised his hand and scorched the imps around him until even the ashy flakes that marked where they'd stood were reduced to a fine power.
He just raised a brow, not even bothering to pick up his blade as the angel advanced in him. Porcelain-divine and oh so achingly pure. Clearly waiting for him to attack as the fingers of his palm spread like a threat. The glow from his halo highlighting the blood spatter dappled across the creamy-white fabric around his waist. The same cloth every angel wore in uniform.
"Wake up on the wrong side of the altar this morning, did you darling?"
The angel blinked. Then cocked his head. Looking at him, perhaps for the first time as something in his rotting chest tightened. Swelling up his throat like a fractured hiccup. Like his insides were on a mission to kill him in reverse. Trading the moment between the two of them for a hundred fractured beats before suspicion and a tired sort of apathy rippled across the angel's face. Settling them firmly back into familiar waters.
It didn't occur to him until later - long after the blast of holy fire sent him careening back down to hell - that perhaps the fact that he hadn't been immediately eviscerated along with the others might have been an important point for consideration.
The third time he caught the Adelphi in the back with an ax. Enjoying the desecration that followed as the angel's spine split at the seam. Folding - without grace - amongst the broken, limestone columns that marked the ruined temples of lesser gods. The ones humanity had worshiped in the muddled dark before the great enlightenment. The ones that had fought for their bit of earth as God laughed. Quaking the very ground beneath their feet before the universe yawned and swallowed them whole.
He stayed long enough for the Adelphi to know it was him. Coming around to his side as the angel's lashes fluttered. Struggling through his death throes but somehow still managing to focus when he crouched down beside him. Staring up at him like his very gaze could burn him from the inside out. Almost downplaying the wide-palmed hand that was searching across the porous rock, wanting so very desperately to find his blade and plunge it deep into his heart.
But for all the impendence he saw in the angel's face, he only laughed. Chortling deep in his throat as those striking sapphire eyes dimmed. Forcing the angel's head up with the point of his dagger as he cut a cruel line through the ivory pale of his throat.
"You have to admit, it was my turn, dear."
For a demon, the words were almost gentle.
The fourth time he fought off an entire host of others - even his own kind - for the privilege of killing the creature himself. Burning with possession and a traitorous tangle of far lighter emotions as he hacked his way through the wall of flesh that separated them. Telling himself over and over - as he ran the Adelphi through with his blade, coaxing out the final strains of that queer little song of his - that it was all equal in the end. That no matter what was edging in from the sidelines, killing an angel had to be just about the worst sin of them all.
Right?
Things went on like that for a handful of centuries.
But strangely enough, he never got bored.
In fact, sometimes he just watched.
He was a beautiful thing after all.
The Adelphi was fierce and bright. Taller than most, but not enough to stand out when surrounded by the vast flanking lines of the Holy Host. Every so often he would find himself a nice private hollow to simply watch him from. Following the path he wrecked through the ranks of his dark brothers and sisters. Twinned blades flashing, cleaving, dripping. Studying him without distraction as the being used his wings to soar high and plunge down again. Crushing a gaggle of demons under powerful legs before jumping off the side of a cliff and darting down to the valley rock below.
The Adelphi put an entirely new meaning to the word ruin and yet- for all he was old – ancient, even - the angel was ageless. Beyond time. A rule of law onto itself. Younger than God, but not much else. And yet, somehow, this one was still so young. Innocent to be sure, but in a far purer way then he knew angels to be.
He wasn't host to that same hatred and disconnect as his fellows. Like him he'd grown weary. Seeing no need to record the deaths he'd long lost count of. The ones he'd etched once into the scorched-blunt of his blade. Trappings akin to the medals humans wore on their chest to signify their status and rank. This angel wasn't like the others. Not yet at least. He didn't know how it was possible, but it was.
Distantly he knew that he wasn't supposed to see the difference.
That there wasn't one.
But apparently he was past being able not to make it personal.
Naturally, it was all the angel's fault.
He'd decided that long ago.
Now he merely had to punish him for it.
A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – Stay tuned, there is more to come.