Author's note: ::bangs head against desk:: Why...was this...the hardest? I mean, sweet merciful crap. Yeah, okay, it's like almost 6000 words but fight scenes are merciless to write. Also, I am very aware that Samael/Lucifer's personality seems to jump around, and that's on purpose. It's why he's so hard to write. Also, no lie, I don't have Maze in this chapter because it was already too hard to incorporate everyone into the scenes without feeling like someone was getting neglected.
Also: Continuity errors abound - not accidentally, but when I started writing this, it was first season, and Amenadiel is a colossal douche canoe. He makes absolutely AWFUL decisions, jumps to conclusions, and it one of the biggest babies for being the so called "biggest and baddest" of the angels. So remember, in this story he is 1) first season petty level and 2) a younger sibling. Also, possibly a graphic violence warning? I don't think it is, and a couple of you seem largely immune to violence too, but this is the warning: Samael is no bueno.
"Lucifer," Michael said, barest hint of a nod in greeting.
"Samael, if you please," Lucifer said mildly. "I hardly feel like a light bearer at the moment."
"You're looking well," Gabriel said, and Chloe could hear the relief in his voice. She could tell Gabriel hadn't been expecting to either one, find Lucifer so easily, or two, looking better than he had the last time they'd seen him.
Lucifer – Samael – shrugged his shoulders, and Chloe could hear the faint rustle of feathers, even if she could see nothing. She immediately thought of the horrific scars on his back and wondered what she'd see now instead.
"Hale, whole, and hearty, my dear brother," Samael said, in that same forced easiness. He spread his arms wide, giving a quick spin on his heel in a move Fred Astaire would be proud of. "Surprised?"
Michael pulled back his lips in a snarl, but before he could say anything, Gabriel slammed his elbow into his ribs, cutting off any sort of reply.
"What happened to you?" Gabriel asked. He glanced around the room, looking for something but Chloe didn't know what.
"I was reborn," Samael said, and Chloe would've sworn he sounded…disappointed? His head suddenly snapped to one side, almost tucking in his chin to his chest as he grimaced, rubbing at one ear.
"Lucifer," Chloe asked quietly, taking a cautious step forwards but immediately stopped when Lucifer took a step back. "Are you…okay?"
"I asked before – it's Samael," Samael corrected. "Don't make me ask again."
There was a finality to the request that made Chloe shiver, and it had nothing to do with the temperature.
"Okay," she agreed, and took a half step back. "I can do that. But you didn't answer my question. Are you okay?"
Samael raised an eyebrow, and the reptilian gaze looked absolutely alien on Lucifer's face. "Well enough," he said with a dismissive wave.
But Chloe ignored the words. She could see the way he stiffened when he moved, the taught pull of muscles and tendons just below the skin, the way he continued to clench one hand white knuckled or the way he hardly moved his mouth when speaking.
"How did…what happened to Rodgers? What happened at your loft?" Chloe pressed. "You've been gone for hours, and suddenly you're back?"
Samael's lips pressed into a firm line, rolling his head as if trying to work a particularly bothersome kink out of it. "I'll assume you're moderately up to speed with the way of things, since you've clearly been talking to my brothers. Miss Rodgers made the mistake of thinking she wouldn't fall into my domain if she managed to resurrect me. She's been...taken care of. As well as her flock."
"You…killed her?" Dan asked, frowning.
Samael scoffed. "Of course not. I spoke to them….and then they devoured themselves."
Chloe felt her heart stutter. Not so much the words, but the completely uninterested tone, as if he was giving a weather forecast.
"Please be a metaphor..."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Samael dismissed. "I doubt Delilah is dead, but she won't last long. She'll have enough time to contemplate her poor life choices, try and bargain for her life, realize that the only one coming for her is the Ferryman."
"What's with the sound proofing?" Dan asked, turning a faint shade of green and rapidly changing the subject. "And the ice box?"
Samael actually seemed relieved at the question, and turned the darkened gaze towards the other detective.
"Humans are very loud," Samael said, tracing a finger along the wall and watching as a trail of frost formed in its wake. "And there are very, very many of them. As for the temperature, it's what one might call a side effect of being this close to me. People often think I burn hot – always with the fiery allegories, but it's quite the opposite. Heat requires passion. Feeling. And I am the absence of those things."
"Why did you bring us here?" Michael demanded. "And how did you return?"
Samael shrugged. "Not by choice, I assure you. No matter. As for the why…I didn't bring you here." His darkened gaze shifted skyward, a sneer pulling at his lips. "Father remains as impotent as ever on this plane, but it seems He can still move pieces on the board." The archangel cast a wayward glance down. "Or perhaps it's not me He brought you here to see…"
Samael drew a sigil in the air with one finger, a fiery trail left behind in the air like the after burn of one of Trixie's Fourth of July sparklers. "Patefacio," he said, and dragged his fingers through the sigil as if he was clawing open a wound.
Somewhere in the back her mind, Chloe knew that what she was looking at wasn't physically real – it wasn't possible – but there were only so many mind-bending world shifts her brain could take in one day before it just gave up on logic. She and Dan simultaneously clapped their hands over their ears, wincing at the sudden cacophony of screaming, wailing and crying of a million voices in pain and anger. Sounds that were impossibly human and otherworldly and languages that were most certainly not of this world. She knew where that portal went – the vortex that looked like an angry wound in the fabric of reality itself. The temperature skyrocketed. She could feel the heat prickling her skin, stinging her eyes, and the smell.
She gagged, pressing her sleeves to her mouth as she tried not to throw up. It reeked of sulfur and copper and something rotted that she didn't want to imagine.
"Little brother, little brother," Samael called, voice pitched like he was reciting the Big Bad Wolf. "Won't you come out to play?"
Something in the back of Chloe's mind was still screaming at her that none of this was possible. None of this was real. But a much louder, more dominant half found it hard to continue denying the very real things she was looking at.
"Amenadiel, do not make me come and get you," Samael snarled.
"Amenadiel?" Michael echoed, and turned a curious glance to his brother.
Samael chuckled mirthlessly. "Oh, poor Michael. Always the soldier, never the scholar. You wanted to know who to point the blame at for my return?"
Impossibly, the screaming grew louder, and Chloe thought of Lucifer at the St. John crime scene and sympathy surged to the forefront. She didn't want to imagine what he heard that could make an angel's ears bleed.
Without warning, Samael reached through the doorway, lunging forwards so that more than half his upper body disappeared before he reared back, pulling somebody with him.
As soon as the other person's feet cleared the edge of the portal, it snapped shut with such force it made Chloe's ears pop and Samael threw the body at his feet. At first, it was hard to see past the massive wings, and Chloe had to duck out of the way as one of them almost collided with the side of her head.
"None of that now," Samael growled, and in one quick movement, pinned the errant wing beneath his foot as he slammed it down on the pollex joint. There was a crack, a stifled grunt of pain, and finally Chloe could see the man – angel – that Samael dragged in.
"You've been a busy little boy, Menny," Samael chided, and even though his voice was pitched in that same creepy sing-song lilt, she could hear the barely restrained rage just beneath it.
"Wait…he's really your brother?" Chloe sputtered before she could stop herself. "I thought you were kidding!"
"Ah, the benefit of being celestial beings formed of thought rather than biological evolution," Samael said. "We're a bit of a mixed bag, the further on down the hierarchy you get. Sometimes even I wonder if we're actually related."
Amenadiel actually looked more like what Chloe expected of an angel – dressed in clothes that looked more like a monk than a surfer bum or Prada model. Even the cross around his neck and the cloth gauntlets seemed more angel-esque than anything she'd seen of them so far.
"Hullo, brother," Samael sneered, and pressed down in the broken joint. "We haven't been properly introduced, have we? I'm Samael. I hear you thought it was a wise idea to bring me back." He suddenly reared back, pulling his leg up as high as he could before slamming it down on the wing beneath his foot, and this time Amenadiel couldn't hold back the cry of pain.
"Samael," Michael growled, taking a step forwards but Samael held up a warning hand.
"Don't interrupt," Samael warned. "You wanted to know how I got here? Why I'm back? You have your little brother here to thank for that. Do you want to confess your sins, Little Brother, hmm? I told you once I looked forward to eating your heart. Do you want to tell the Ferryman what you've been up to? Or do you think Saint Michael will be more forgiving?"
There was something close to manic in Samael's voice, in his movement. Something childish and gleeful and empty and black that bubbled just beneath the surface of his skin.
Amenadiel remained silent, mouth pressed into a grim line as he glared balefully up at his brother.
"Tell them what you've done," Samael growled, bending forwards without leaning until he was almost nose to nose with Amenadiel, "or I will make a trophy of your spine."
"I told the woman how to find you," Amenadiel ground out between clenched teeth. "I whispered in her ear that you were in plain sight. That you were weakened in your current form. That she could reach you."
"And was she the only one you told?"
"No."
Samael shot a smug grin over to his older brother. "No?"
"I told her," Amenadiel confessed, gesturing with a jerk of his head towards Chloe.
Chloe blinked. No, he hadn't. She hadn't even seen Amenadiel since the auction, and he hadn't mentioned anything to her there.
"That piece of paper you were talking about," Dan asked slowly, not turning away from Samael and Amenadiel. "The one with Samael's name on it, the one that put this idea in your head that he was some cult escapee...where did it come from?"
Chloe started to shake her head. "I don't...know? Does it matter?"
Michael was the one who answered before Samael could even open his mouth. "Belief, Detective. Belief is a strange thing. You would have never gone looking for Lucifer's origins if you had never been handed that piece of paper. Not his real one, anyway. You would have gone looking for a very human past, which does not exist. You would have never started trying to figure out the name Samael. You may not have believed what he was, but you most certainly started to believe who he was. It was like a foothold, something for the idea to take hold and grow, and that is all that is needed to bring something back that was long forgotten."
Samael waved a scolding finger towards Michael. "Gone, maybe, but not forgotten."
Amenadiel growled up at his brother, lip curled back over teeth in a feral snarl. "I was supposed to return you to your duties in Hell. It didn't matter how. And it didn't matter which one of you went. It was chaos. The barriers were weakening. The demons weren't keeping Souls where they belonged. You're so defensive of this world but you didn't care that your selfishness was going to ruin it. I had my orders. And like a good Son, I obeyed."
"Oh, little brother mine," Samael sing-songed, shaking his head in disappointment. "You really are inept, aren't you? I don't for a moment believe our Father sent you, and if He did, I would have to wonder what you did to piss Him off."
Amenadiel's scowl deepened, but he said nothing.
Samael's dark eyes glittered, and suddenly his grin was a little too broad. "It didn't even occur to you, did it? What must it be like in that silly empty head of yours? I bet it's quiet. Or an endless loop of the Benny Hill theme…Did you really think our Father would send someone like you to deal with someone like me?"
Amenadiel's scowl turned to a frown, and Chloe could see the doubt play across his features.
Samael laughed, clapping his hands together as he spun around on his heel like Fred Astaire on the dance floor. "You poor, pathetic thing. You may be able to stop time, but in all those extra moments, did it not occur to you to think? To wonder why God would send a third string nobody to try and force an Archangel back into his box? I mean, I know you were young when I was thrown out, but surely you must've heard the stories. Did you not believe? Or were you so arrogant to think that you, all by your lonesome, could put me back in my cage?"
Samael's smile suddenly vanished, and he pointed to Michael, snapping his fingers. "Saint Michael – did you put that thought in his head? Did you make him think that he was more than he is?"
Michael shook his head. "I am not one to send my brothers on fool's errands."
Samael's black gaze didn't leave Amenadiel's face, locking eyes with his younger brother. "That, little brother, smacks considerably of pride. To think, to dare have such notions that you alone could achieve what it took four archangels and God combined to do. You thought I went gentle into the Pit? That perhaps I threw myself down in Judgement?"
He stepped closer to Amenadiel, who took a step back.
"Did Father simply stop making an effort when He created you? Set the cosmos on auto pilot and let it go? Were you simply not worth an effort?"
The younger angel's fists clenched at his sides, but he didn't raise them. "Shut up. I'm not the one who was named the Serpent. Or cast into Hell."
"Oh, but weren't you?" Samael said. "Let's recap, shall we? I was thrown out for corruption. For creating dissent amongst the ranks. And yet…" Samael spread his arms wide, encompassing all of Lux. "Here I am. On Earth. Unfettered and unburdened of my Divine Purpose. Hell, I pay taxes. I have a social security number. You think if our Father wasn't perfectly fine with all of that, He would send you and not, say, oh, Michael?" He gestured towards his older brother. "Or perhaps Gabriel? Or Raphael? Or any combination of the Archangels? Or how about showing up Himself? He's made no such promises not to interfere if I posed a threat. Our agreement is only if I left the Earth alone. Which means, dearest brother, you not only are guilty of pride you are guilty of lying. Perhaps it is you who should have my abdicated throne after all."
At that, Amenadiel notably flinched, and Samael's grin widened inhumanly far.
"Ah, that's it, isn't it?" he said, voice sickly simpering sweet. "You know that's where you belong. Perhaps not even on the throne, hmm? Hell has a way of making you believe you deserve to be there. And the only way you thought you were going to get out of there was if you found someone more deserving."
"If you're going to put him on trial, let him up," Gabriel said, taking a step forwards.
Samael's blackened gaze turned to his younger brother, and Chloe could see the war of emotions flicker across his face. "Trial?" Samael echoed. "Is that what he gets?"
"It's your law, brother," Gabriel reminded. "Not ours. Not even Father's."
Chloe saw Samael's eye twitch and realized Gabriel was telling the truth, and so did Samael. With a snarl, Samael stepped back, finally allowing Amenadiel space to push himself to his feet, even as one wing hung awkwardly and obviously broken. Unlike Michael's, or even the fake wings she'd seen of Lucifer's, they weren't blindingly white. They were smokey black, shorter and not quite as long but definitely broader.
It was the difference between a falcon's wings and a vulture.
As Samael turned away from Amenadiel, he accidentally bumped his shoulder against Dan's, who was scrambling out of the way to avoid Michael as he stepped forwards towards his younger brother.
Samael turned to Dan, his eyes flickering from the matte black to familiar brown for a moment.
"Oh, well now…isn't that something?" Samael mused, sounding genuinely interested. "Aren't you a complicated fellow?"
Dan's gaze shifted sideways as he folded his arms across his chest. "Really not."
Samael's head cocked to one side, studying Dan with an intensity that even Chloe found unnerving. "It's not an insult, Daniel. Very few things in this world…or the next…interest me."
"Oddly enough, not making me feel any better," Dan grumbled.
Samael's gaze flicked to Michael and then back to Dan. "I don't make you nervous, do I? Which means you don't feel like you deserve to be punished. It means you're feeling judged. Huh."
Now it was Chloe's turn to look questioningly at her ex, who resolutely avoided meeting her gaze.
"Enough of the mind games," Dan said half-heartedly, clearly not expecting Samael to listen.
"It's not 'mind games'," Samael snapped irritably, making finger quotes. "Far be it from me to judge someone exacting justice on the deserving. Besides, you didn't kill him – you just put him into a coma. I mean, intentional or not, that's actually quite brilliant. It's not murder. And even better – you made sure he couldn't harm anyone else."
"What the hell is he talking about?" Chloe demanded.
"Nothing," Dan said, and then almost immediately corrected himself. "I shot Malcolm."
"Hard to lie in our presence, isn't it?" Samael said, almost sympathetically. "Don't judge him too harshly, Detective – he didn't shoot him until Malcolm was about to kill you. And in my Father's eyes, even if he did kill him, that's not murder."
"How is that not murder?" Chloe demanded, her head whipping back and forth between Samael and Dan so fast she thought she might get whiplash. "What the hell, Dan? Seriously? You let me believe I imagined the whole thing at Palmetto? That I was wrong about Malcolm being a dirty cop?"
"Really?" Dan said, waving to the archangel before them. "You think now is a good time to discuss this?"
There were a million things that Chloe wanted to shout at him – for lying to her, for making her believe she was seeing things, for ostracizing her from the entire police department for being right.
And thank you. For making sure she went home to Trixie that night. For not making an easy decision but one she was grateful for because she knew she would've done the same thing, if it came between shooting Malcolm and letting him shoot someone else when she could stop it.
But something else actually bothered her more than his actions.
"Wait…I thought you were a punisher?" she asked Samael.
He bowed low, sweeping his arm out. "I am."
"If Michael has an effect on Dan, why don't you?"
Samael actually smiled at that, and it looked so much like the old him Chloe felt her heart stutter.
"Because I punish the guilty, Detective. What's Daniel guilty of that I would punish? Defending a loved one?" He waved his hand at Dan. "He doesn't feel guilty about shooting Malcolm."
"Then why do you freak out about being near Michael?" Chloe asked, struggling to make a connection that made sense.
Dan shrugged helplessly, and surprisingly enough, it was Samael who came to his defense. "Daniel doesn't feel guilty about shooting Malcolm. He feels guilty about letting it come to that. For not turning him over in the first place when he first knew about his duplicitous nature."
The archangel shrugged indifferently. "As I said – far be it from me to judge someone who balances out something like that. Malcolm was a bad person, but not bad enough to act upon – or so he believed – but the moment he realized Malcolm was going to take that step into true evil, he acted with little regard to himself." Samael held his hands out, mimicking a balanced scale. "The balance is maintained."
"But –" Amenadiel began, and Samael shot him a glare that silenced him mid protest.
"Looking the other way isn't a permanent stay in Hell. It's a quick detour to Purgatory, but that's if you don't atone for it while you're here." Samael tipped his head to Dan. "Congratulations, human, on figuring it out." He held out his open palm, and there was a puff of glitter tossed into the air. "Mazel tov."
"He attempted to kill another," Amenadiel protested, and Dan shot him an incredulous look.
"Seriously, dude?" Dan growled. "Whose side are you on?"
"Ignore him," Samael said dismissively, his smile pulling tight in warning. "My brother likes to think himself above the duties of Hell, and yet he still tries to throw in with the rest of the big boys as if his opinion matters. Newsflash, Menny – it matters slightly less than not at all."
Amenadiel's mouth twisted into a mocking smirk. "Say all you want about not mattering. Father may not have made me an archangel, but at least He didn't make me a freak. A monster He was so ashamed of that He threw down in disgust where no one would have to lay eyes on the mistake that was you."
There wasn't even a warning. It happened so fast that if Gabriel hadn't spun away from Amenadiel to slam her into the ground, Samael's wing would have thrown her across the bar on the other side of the room as he hurtled towards Amenadiel.
"Freak, am I?" Samael roared, using one massive wing to fling Michael out of his way and slammed full force into Amenadiel, knocking them both back against the wall with enough force the entire wall shook as it cracked. "Me? One who was once so powerful that even Father was afraid of me?"
Amenadiel twisted around in Samael's grip, bringing up both arms between Samael's to break his hold, but Samael didn't let go. The fabric of Amenadiel's tunic tore in his hands as the younger angel tried to get away.
Samael didn't give him much of a chance, anticipating the move and reaching out for Amenadiel's broken wing.
There was a crunch and a brittle snap, and the already damaged limb dropped uselessly to the ground as Amenadiel shouted in pain.
"I was a general, you insignificant worm," Samael shouted, and Chloe clapped her hands to her ears.
"I was more feared than any creature our Father created. I was second only to Him. Do you know why there was no other like me?"
"Keep your head down, and stay out of the way," Gabriel hissed in her ear, pushing her away from him and out of sight behind the bar. "And whatever you do, don't let his wings hit you. You won't survive."
Amenadiel snarled in rage, throwing a left hook at Samael's face, which was about as effective as swatting a dragon with a fly swatter.
Gabriel and Michael, who had thrown Dan clear of the fighting but to the opposite side of the room, were barely able to stay clear of the wide swinging arc of Samael's wings, and one nicked Michael's arm as he threw it up in front of his face. There was a spurt of red, and Michael winced, but ignored the wound.
One of Samael's wings sliced through a decorative column as easily as a knife through butter and Chloe realized why Gabriel warned her about them. Not just because they were strong, but because they were weapons and suddenly Chloe wished she'd never met angels.
"I am all that our Father was!" Samael's wing slammed into Michael's with a crack like thunder. Gabriel managed to duck underneath the other one, spinning at the last second to latch on to it, wrapping his arms around the massive limb and bracing his feet against the ground, furrowing the marble like sand.
"Sammy, stop!" Gabriel shouted. "He didn't mean it!"
Samael ignored him or didn't hear him, but shook his brother free with a snap that sent him tumbling across the floor.
"When He looked at me, all He could see was everything about Himself He hated in His perfect Creation. I was a mirror to reflect all of His cruelty, all of His wrath. But do you know what else He realized?"
Samael didn't throw fast punches, because he didn't need to, and dimly Chloe realized just how impressive his tactics were – he could fight all three of his brothers simultaneously, or at the very least, could keep Michael and Gabriel at bay enough to concentrate solely on Amenadiel. Michael couldn't extended his wings in the tight confines of the club, not with Samael's and Amenadiel's already out, and Gabriel was more preoccupied with trying to deflect debris and anything else that might come her way – or Dan's.
Now would be a good time for Maze to show up, but honestly, Chloe had no idea where the hell she was, or how to call her. For all she knew, she was gone on purpose. She knew she wished she was anywhere else.
Amenadiel was already down one wing before the fight even started, and Chloe had to wonder if he knew what he was doing when he insulted Samael. And if he did, what did he stand to gain from getting killed by his brother?
"That I was necessary. It took Four Horsemen to carry out what I did alone!" Samael blocked a halfhearted punch from Amenadiel, and landed a solid kick to Amenadiel's solar plexus, sending the other angel backwards and into one of the support columns. "He could never get rid of me, not completely."
"He may have made me a monster, but our Father doesn't make mistakes. I have purpose. I have meaning. Which is more than I can say about you. One could even argue those wings you're so proud of would be better served on a rodent than you."
Amenadiel, face washed in red and one eye swollen shut, cuts and bruises and abrasions where whole sections of skin were rubbed raw, met his brother's eyes defiantly. He spat a glob of blood and Chloe would've sworn she saw a tooth come loose in the mess of red that landed on the floor.
And then he smiled.
"Say all you want about me," Amenadiel slurred, wincing as the smile pulled on bruises and cuts. "But at least I'm still welcome in the Silver City. Kill me if you want, but all it's going to do is assure you are never going home. You may be needed, but you aren't loved. You're not wanted. And no matter what you do down here, no matter what you do on that throne down in the Pit – look at your wings. You think something like you belongs in our Father's home?"
Chloe hadn't even realized it until Amenadiel mentioned them – she was too busy trying not to get killed.
Samael's wings were changing color.
The once pristine and divine white wings now looked like someone dipped them in oil, the long primary and secondary feathers inky black along the bottom and dripping darkness like smoke.
"Kill me, brother," Amenadiel taunted, the drunken smile still pulling painfully on his lips. "Send me home. At least I won't be where you're going."
"Oh, Amenadiel..." Gabriel whispered. "You idiot."
It took an even longer moment to realize that you could hear a pin drop in the completely destroyed main floor of Lux. Chloe could hear the harsh panting from all four of the angels, the creak and groan of the remaining support beams struggling to hold the building up.
Neither Michael or Gabriel moved, and Chloe wasn't about to break the silence. It was like sitting the eye of a hurricane.
One that could turn on you.
Samael stood frozen, one hand raised to deal another blow to his brother, but she couldn't see his face clearly from the angle she was at.
But she could hear him clear as a bell, even though his voice was barely above a manic whisper.
"Oh...oh brother...I'm not going to kill you," Samael hissed. "Death is a kindness I don't think you've earned."
Amenadiel's smirk faltered. "W-what?"
"You think I'm going to give you a one-way ticket home? Was that your great big plan from the start? When you couldn't convince me to return to Hell, you thought you could at least get yourself out?" Samael said, barely cutting off the snort of laughter, as if he'd told the world's greatest inside joke. "You are simply marvelous."
Samael ducked his head so that he was looming over his younger brother, his raised fist now bracing himself against the wall. "Oh Father tell me, we get what we deserve..."
Kaleo had never struck her as being particularly menacing, but she felt a thrill of icy dread run up her spine and couldn't suppress the shiver.
"And way down we go!" Samael roared, and suddenly the room tore itself apart at the seams.
Michael dove towards Dan, covering the other detective with his wings like a shield as Gabriel scrambled for Chloe, barely reaching her in time to deflect a flying piece of rubble.
The floor split at Samael's feet, ripping the world open like a rancid wound, and the temperature rocketed upwards.
"I hope you were a merciful king, Amendiel," Samael thundered, hauling his brother up by his neck. With one swift movement and a crack of bone and squelch of ripping flesh, Samael wrenched Amenadiel's wings from his back. "Because the only way you're going home is if Father comes and gets you Himself!"
With that, Samael hurled his brother through the chasm into Hell, screaming until it blended with the other howls of rage and anger as the hole fused shut behind him.
Samael whirled on the others, and Chloe saw the matte black eyes glow red, broken wings clasped in his hand like a bloody trophy.
"I may not be my Father's favorite son," he snarled, his lips pulling back to reveal not quite human teeth. "But I am his True son. Thy Kingdom Come, Thy will be done." He raised the shattered wings. "On Earth, as it is in Heaven."
He turned his blackened gaze skyward, lip curling up in a mocking sneer. "Hollow be Thy name."
And with that, there was a ruffle of feathers, and Samael vanished.
Author's note: Weeee! FREAKISHLY LONG DELAY, BUT HOLY CRAP THAT DIALOGUE IN THE FIGHT WAS A HARD THING TO DO. Trying to find that balance between anger, rage, action, observation, plot...so many things...
Also, I started school again, and two classes are writing intensive, so I've been working on my own short story for class instead of any of my fanfics, and I feel really bad about it. So, I apologize for the delay and...make no promises about the future. Read and review! Was it worth the wait? And seriously - how did the dialogue/fight go? I'm never sure how well what I picture action wise shows up on paper...
EDIT: Thank you, SamusOlderBrother for the helpful edit!
PS: I am loving this blizzard I'm in the middle of. WOOO!
