Steve
The nearest hallowed ground Michael could sense had been the crypt at Kamar Taj for fallen sorcerers, but since half of Kamar Taj had collapsed and the other half was unstable, Michael had decided to search again. She found a Tibetan monastery several miles away. In order not to scare the monks, she had changed her clothing from the typical leather armor the angels wore into civilian attire, doing the same for Steve. She had also cast a glamor over her eyes so they appeared a normal light brown rather than the pools of liquid gold everyone normally saw. They were just two tourists hiking the Himalayas, nothing special. Still, the monks were usually wary of strangers showing up on their doorstep, but Michael did something with her aura that made even Steve feel relaxed and suffused with warm feelings towards her. The monks welcomed them in after that, offering refreshment and letting them sit in the main shrine.
Before the monks did, however, they had encountered another issue. As soon as she stepped foot on the monastery grounds, Michael began glowing. It was something Steve had seen Tracy do whenever she went on the grounds of a church or, on one very memorable occasion, a cemetery. That had been late at night and the Avengers had to field emergency calls from people who swore they had seen a ghost walking about the headstones. The incident had prompted Loki to begin searching for some way to dampen that glow since there might be occasions when Tracy was on a mission and might have to be on some type of holy ground.
It seemed all Loki had to do was ask Michael, because she took one look at herself lit up like a lantern, shut her eyes in concentration, and the glow was tamped down. Michael still looked sparkly to Steve's eye, but it was a lot more subtle and mostly hidden by the cold weather clothing she had adorned herself in.
"How long can you keep that going?" He asked softly.
"I can manage for a little while, but it will not last," Michael sounded close to apologetic. "Unfortunately, it is not something that can be helped."
Steve nodded then winced in discomfort. His leg was now killing him and he was sore all over.
"I am sorry, Steve. I can summon one of the angels here to finish healing you."
Steve shook his head. "I'd rather not get anyone else involved. I'm fine. Why can't you heal me anyway? I thought all angels could with that fire of yours."
"Angels, yes. The fire is different for archangels." Michael's eyes were fixed on the statue of the Buddha. "We are not healers. We are warriors. Killers. Our purpose is to protect the Hierarchy, not heal mortals. So, while the fire of an angel can heal, the fire of an archangel...all is does is destroy."
"In other words, if someone in that group is hurt, Gabriel won't be able to do a thing to help them."
"Not necessarily. Like me, he knows a little healing magic. He will not be able to perform any what you mortals call miracles, but he can keep someone alive."
Steve thought about it for a moment. "Could he fry the Beyonder then?"
"Tzadkiel tried that. You have seen the results of their attempt to destroy the Beyonder that way."
That was true. Steve had seen Derrick when the former archangel stepped outside their Sanctuary. They became visibly weaker and more fragile, way more vulnerable, and they couldn't do any magic outside of Sanctuary. They had stored magic in those moving tattoo wards on their body, but he had heard Stephen describe stored magic as "the instant coffee of sorcery", so he supposed it was nothing to write home about. It had looked pretty impressive to him the couple of times he saw the tattoos at work. "Isn't Gabriel more powerful than Derrick was though?"
Michael shook her head. "It does not matter. The angelfire works the same no matter what our rank is, whether it is myself or the lowest ranking angel, which at this point is Abr-"
"Don't call her that."
Michael turned her head and stared at him.
"Abriel was an alias she adopted when she came here and we needed to call her something, but she didn't want to give us her real name. The alias was what she needed to feel safer, so we let her get away with it. But her name is Tracy."
"She chose an angelic name. That cannot be an accident."
"Maybe not, but she answers to Tracy. She's still the same person she was before we found her."
"She is an angel now!"
"Physically, yes, but at her core? She's Tracy. I'd appreciate it if you called her by her real name."
Michael tilted her head. "You care about her. You feel responsible for her."
Steve didn't argue with that. He decided the very day he met her that she was going to be under his care:
He found the woman they had rescued three weeks ago in the kitchen, staring at the water falling out of the faucet like it held all the secrets of the universe.
Her hands were dripping wet. She'd obviously been washing them, but now it seemed she either forgot how to turn the water off or she just got distracted by the way the water gushed out of the faucet, hypnotized by the sound perhaps or just the sight. And no wonder. She'd been stuck inside for a month. How long had it been since she'd seen the sun, felt a breeze, touched grass?
Steve slowly went over, being very careful since he had learned the hard way that it was a bad idea to surprise the pale and thin brunette, reached over, and turned the faucet off. Then he grabbed a towel and reached for her hands...
She jumped, baring her teeth at him and crossed her arms protectively over her torso. Steve backed off, raising his hands in a gesture of peace, and then offered her the towel. She stared at him for way too long before she gingerly accepted the towel and then stared at it as if she didn't know what it was for.
"Your hands. They're wet. Dry them off," Steve told her gently. They didn't know what had happened to her. Whatever it was, it had been bad. Whoever was responsible really did a number on her. Steve wanted to find out who it was so he could go after them. At the same time, he really didn't know what had been done to her. He was certain whatever it was would give him nightmares for life.
She finally took the towel and wiped her hands dry, slowly, as though she feared getting it wrong.
Steve cleared his throat. "Want to go outside? It's cold out, so you'll need a coat."
She blinked at him, and then reluctantly followed him to the foyer. He grabbed his coat and borrowed Bucky's for her to wear. She watched him shrug into his coat, and copied his movements, still acting unsure. Then Steve went to the side door and opened it.
The garden the mansion had was small, and covered in snow, but there was a bench and a few winter plants. He walked out and then waited for her. She had to shield her eyes from the sun but she finally came out to join him.
He sat and let her walk around for a bit, taking in the smells, the sounds, the bushes and the few trees bare of foliage. He watched her walk over to a birdbath and study it before she went to an empty bird feeder.
A small brown bird chirped on a low hanging branch, and when she got close to it, it fluttered down and landed on her outstretched hand. Steve couldn't help but smile at the sight.
But then...
"They're hungry," she spoke in a cracked, hoarse voice that had obviously suffered from lack of use.
Steve's heart hammered. He stared at her for so long that she repeated as if she thought he hadn't heard her: "They're hungry. There's no food."
Steve had to swallow several times before he finally said, "Then let's get them some food." He showed her where they kept the birdseed, and they spent some time filling up the bird feeders. He had to fight back tears the whole time.
"She's my friend," he told Michael, "Yes, I care about her. I care about all of them, which is why I'm about to commit blasphemy."
Michael blinked. "Come again?"
"The Beyonder considers himself a god, right?"
"Yes..."
That hadn't been Steve's imagination. There was definite wariness in her voice.
"I'm going to need you to intercede on my behalf with your Dad in that case." Steve blew out a breath. Then he knelt, closed his eyes, and began to pray...to the Beyonder.
Loki
He was drowning and couldn't find it in himself to care. Laufey laughed as the dead from the Battle of New York came forward in a crushing wave, all of them spewing curses, all of them talking of how they died. So many dead, so much blood on his hands.
Above it all was his mother, lamenting "Why, my son? Why do you disappoint me so?"
Then a fireball fell out of the sky and landed in the middle of the mass of zombies, the fire spreading out to consume more rotted, desecrated flesh, the flames burning a brilliant blue that turned to white as they grew taller. Loki stared dumbly at the spectacle, and realized that the original fireball was sporting one wing that had until recently still sported some torn white feathers. The flames still burned Raphael, cleansing him of the blasphemy that had disturbed the archangel's rest.
"Loki! Snap out of it!" Gabriel landed in front of him and the archangel got into his face. "Damn you, you need to fight! I will not see my kin just lay down and passively accept his fate like this! What do you suppose your mate would say if she were to see you accepting this guilt the dead are bludgeoning you with and allowing yourself to be torn apart?"
That was easy. Tracy would rip him a new bodily orifice.
Gabriel grabbed Loki's shoulders and shook him. "Look around...we need you!"
Loki looked around. The dead were still charging at the people on the ground. In the air, he saw their heaviest hitters, excluding Gabriel, fighting an undead sentient planet that was close to crushing them. The only reason it hadn't already was the army of Kamar Taj sorcerers, including Wong and Steven, using their magics to keep it at bay as Thor, Captain Marvel, the Hulk, Icarus, and Doom kept it occupied so it wouldn't lash out at the magic users.
Most of their forces were concentrating on Ego, which meant that the rest of them were in dire straits and were being overwhelmed.
Gabriel was right...this was no time for him to dwell in guilt and just give up. Loki would allow himself to indulge in shame later. Now...
He looked at all the charred husks the angelfire had left behind. "Can you create more of that to give everyone some breathing room?"
"I am unsure if I can manifest enough to destroy an entire planet, especially after exhausting much of my reserves fighting Raphael, but I will try." Gabriel studied Loki briefly, probably to make sure he was okay, before spreading their wings and rocketing towards Ego. Already their entire form was wreathed in blue fire. Stephen saw what Gabriel was doing, and signaled to the other sorcerers to let the shield down briefly to allow the archangel through before they put it back up.
The heavyweights saw Gabriel coming and quickly moved aside to allow them room. They bore their wings downwards to turn themselves into an arrow aimed straight for the undead planet. Everyone saw the moment Gabriel breached Ego's atmosphere and continued their journey towards Ego's core.
Then the planet screamed as blue fire drew cracks in its crust, burned away the atmosphere, and consumed it down to the last pebble. Rock and other debris began to rain down, all of it being eaten by angelfire that fortunately didn't burn any of the heroes it came into contact with. And plummeting down towards them at frightening speed was...
Carol raced in to catch the unconscious archangel before they hit the ground and were possibly crushed.
Damn. There was no telling how long it would take Gabriel to recover, so they just lost their only effective weapon against the Beyonder's zombie horde. Even so, without having to concentrate on holding Ego back, everyone was free to help each other out against the dead.
"Impressive. But your triumph shall be short lived," boomed a very familiar voice that made Loki's back tighten. He looked up.
There were no stones, but Loki knew from experience that Thanos didn't need them to be a threat. Spread out behind him were members of the Black Order. All of them were decomposed like the rest of the dead, and all of them were armed in other ways.
Everyone else spotted them as well and Loki felt a collective sense of dread fall over the group. He knew that their dread was just as pronounced as his, though he was the one who had spent a year being tortured by the Mad Titan and his followers.
Remembering that just inflamed his desire to see them put back in their graves permanently. If he had to die, at least he'd do it avenging himself.
Michael
Every so often, perhaps once or twice a generation, a mortal would draw the Hierarchy's attention. It was not because they possessed any special powers or abilities, but their integrity and strength of character would leave an impression on the angels and they would play close attention, observing the mortal from afar. It was an uplifting exercise that reminded the angels that mortals were not all bad, a reminder that was sorely needed at times when the actions of mortals disappointed them so. Wars, bigotry, the way they abused the wonderful world they had been gifted, the way they took their gift of life for granted, the way they sometimes even treated their own young. What really made the angels aghast was that many times it was done in the name of Father, and that was where Silence played a very important role, because it stopped many of them from giving in to the urge to appear on Earth to "knock some sense" into the humans when they acted like fools.
Having a mortal like Steve, who was a truly good person, was a rare treat that the angels cherished. So she didn't find any hardship in standing guard over Steve as he prayed to another god. Father was so much more understanding and forgiving than most mortals gave them credit for, so Steve was fine where that was concerned. The only punishment he would be getting would be one he'd give himself, and Michael would made sure he would know that wasn't necessary.
He was doing this to save his world, after all. In his view, he was risking his soul for the lives of countless trillions. That was admirable.
She stiffened as she felt the presence arrive suddenly, and had to stop herself from donning her armor so she wouldn't alarm the monks and the few other human tourists who were in the monastery. It was possible only because he was behaving himself. For now.
Still, she was on alert when he approached Steve, who was still kneeling, his eyes shut in contemplation, still concentrating on prayer. Those eyes opened when the Beyonder spoke up:
"Hello, Steve Rogers."