Layers
Chapter Seven
By: Brenli and Jael
Azrael watched with a look of growing annoyance as Celestiel removed her rabbit mask. "I thought we were in this together, Celestiel."
"What are you talking about?"
"What happened back there? The plan was to kill Nema, not cripple her."
"I improvised." Celestiel said shortly, tossing her mask into her black duffel bag.
"Improvised." Azrael angrily repeated the word, his hands curling into fists. His body shook with carefully restrained rage. "Improvised? To what point and purpose, I have to ask! You could have ruined everything!"
"Silly, stupid Azrael, I haven't ruined anything. You wanted Nemaelle neutralized because of her power. I neutralized her. I don't see the problem." Celestiel planted hands on her black clad hips and glared at Azrael, silently daring him to press the matter further.
And he did. "Whatever you did to her will be temporary, you know that! And she's going to be coming for us again!"
"She won't have a chance to redevelop them. By then, it will be too late." Celestiel bristled. "You say we're in this together, but I've told you from the beginning that I want to do this with as little casualties as possible. If you had done what you were supposed to do, nobody would have died today. And look how many of our own we had to leave behind, today! Dead!"
"I told you that I'm having trouble controlling them. I told them to wait and they invaded the mansion anyway!"
Celestiel chewed her lip and turned away from Azrael, trying not to let her fury get the best of her. "Look, I know what I did wasn't what you had in mind. But think about it: if I had killed her, Raphael would have just brought her back."
Azrael faltered and his red eyes widened slightly. "But... resurrection takes so much out of him...!"
"Do you really think he would let the man he loves as a brother suffer because he wasn't willing to risk a potential coma, again? Be realistic, Azrael. What I did was best."
"But I wish you had just told me-"
"I'm not your wife, Azrael!" Celestiel cut him off, snapped at him. "You don't need to know everything that I'm thinking or doing!"
Azrael's jaw fell open as he stared at the cold woman in front of him.
Immediately, Celestiel softened and took his hands, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his. She knew she could say horrible things when she was angry... but bringing up his dead wife? That was too much. Even for her. "I'm sorry, my friend... I shouldn't have said that."
Azrael took a slow, deep breath in through his nose. "It's all right." He tilted his head and leaned closer, hoping to capture her lips with his.
"Not tonight." She muttered, reaching up to cradle his face. "Look at me." When Azrael turned his tired red eyes to her, she brushed her thumbs over his cheeks. "The Hydra is nearly complete. This will all be over soon... I promise." She pulled away from him before his arms could trap her body against his. "I have to go. I'll contact you soon."
xXxXxXx
"Serissa is going to be furious when she gets home," Jinho muttered, white gloved hands dragging another corpse into the pile they had started in the backyard.
"I wish I knew how to contact her," Uriel said, mopping off his hands with a dirty rag. "She didn't leave her phone number, and the kids are still locked in the Panic Room."
"Still?"
"I imagine they'll stay put until she comes home. They were pretty shaken up." Uriel fixed the cuff of his shirt, rolling it back up to his elbow. "How's Nema?"
"Resting. Raphael managed to get to her in time..." The soft silk of the Gehenna Vampire's voice seemed tired as he spoke, tucking a stray lock of dark hair that had escaped his hair tie back behind his ear. "He seemed... a bit alarmed. He said that her internal organs were... practically mush. She was just barely keeping alive." A frown, however charming, curled on his lips. "He said that she will feel quite unwell for a while, but she'll recuperate just fine... that she will be on bedrest, in the meantime."
Uriel nodded grimly.
"Where are they?"
Uriel and Jinho turned their attention from their pile of bodies, to see Serissa standing at her back door, hands on the jambs... her face pale as a sheet.
"Serissa...!" Uriel took two steps towards her, reaching out a hand, horrified at the look on her face.
"Where are my kids?" She shrieked, her voice cracking.
"Panic Room...!" Uriel said, and Serissa was gone in the blink of an eye. He hurried after her, chasing her up the stairs, his long legs taking two steps at a time. "Serissa, they're all right!" He spoke to her, even though he knew his words were falling on panicking, deaf ears. He couldn't even imagine what the poor woman was going through. Returning to find her home destroyed, blood splattered, bodies piled in her backyard and her children nowhere to be found.
She stumbled over the door Uriel had kicked off it's hinges and hurled herself against the bookcase blocking the entrance to the panic room. She wrestled it out of the way, tipping it over in her haste. It crashed to the floor, scattering books, and Uriel stood helplessly in the doorway. Serissa pounded her fist on the steel door.
"Chiyo? Aaron? Guys, it's me! Open the door...!"
A second later, the door hissed and slid open. Three sobbing children threw themselves at Serissa, and she managed to catch all three of them in her arms, sinking to the floor with relief and emotion.
Uriel watched in a heart-stricken silence as the kids cried and told their stories in a sobbing mess of words and tears. He watched as Serissa comforted each of them, brushing her hands through their hair and murmuring words of soft comfort and praise. After what felt like ages, each of the children had calmed into soft, hiccuping silence.
"He helped us." Chiyo muttered, her red eyes staring at Uriel.
"Who did, baby?" Serissa said.
"Him." She nodded at Uriel, and when Serissa turned her surprised eyes to him, he could only manage a lame, crooked smile and a shrug of his shoulders.
A look of pure gratitude crossed over Serissa's features, and Uriel felt uncomfortable at the sight of such raw emotion.
"Hey, guys." Serissa said, gently pulling herself away from her kids to look at all of their tear-streaked faces. "I want you to do me a favor, okay? I want you all to go to Chiyo's room, lock the door, and play some video games for a while. I have some things I have to take care of... I'll come check on you in a little while, okay?"
The three children nodded in miserable unison and filed out of the spare bedroom, stepping around scattered books as they muttered sincere thank-you's to the Earth Angel standing in the doorway.
"Is it true?"
Serissa's sudden closeness made Uriel jump. "Yes." He said quietly. "Some of the men here were trying to take Chiyo. I helped them get to the Panic Room."
Uriel had expected words. Even a 'thank you' from her lips would have meant the world to him, just because of the look of sincere gratefulness in her lovely eyes. But suddenly, Serissa reached out to take his wrist, and she pulled him closer. She stood on the tips of her toes to wrap her arms around his neck, sealing him in a warm and wonderful embrace.
It wasn't the first time Uriel had felt a female body so close to his own, but never before had such gratitude and emotion poured out of her and into him. It bewildered and broke him in ways he didn't know he could be broken. His throat dried up and his hands hovered awkwardly around her. He stooped slightly, as he was taller than her by at least a full head.
"Thank you..." She murmured, and her words tickled his ear.
Uriel's breath left his chest in a heavy rush and finally his arms settled around her, pulling her close. His hands brushed through the hair that swept over her back, hair that smelled of some soft floral shampoo, hair that felt soft as silk against his face. Until that moment, Uriel had no idea just how starved he had been for this kind of contact. A simple hug. A hug that demanded nothing more than his arms around her.
"You're welcome." He sighed into her hair, his arms tightening like a vice around her body.
Serissa hadn't even known what had come over her when she pulled him to her, like that. She certainly wasn't expecting this kind of reaction. She wasn't expecting him to melt into her arms, like a simple embrace was the most glorious thing in the world to him.
She felt her heart tear a little. Especially as she realized how badly she needed this kind of closeness, as well. Not just from any body, but a body willing to offer the chaste comfort and strength she suddenly found when wrapped up in his strong arms.
Uriel realized he had the irrational urge to keep her against him forever, but his iron hold on her only melted when he felt her relax.
"We should find the others." When she spoke into his ear again, a shiver shot up Uriel's spine.
"You're right." He let her go, and a coldness he didn't like seeped into the marrow of his bones. "Come on..."
She followed closely beside him, but neither of them said a word. They couldn't even look at each other.
xXxXxXx
"Hey."
The man whimpered as he was pulled back into consciousness, the chill of cold water dumped unceremoniously over his head.
"You don't get to pass out until I say you can."
His eyes were almost swollen shut, but he tried hard to open them, to plead with them, even as hopeless as that was. "I've... I've told you everyth-"
The texture of leather smashed against his face once, twice, three times, the fist encased in the fabric causing the bones of this man's face to crunch under the force of it. "No. You. Haven't!" Each word was a blow in itself, and the man just... cried. This was not what he signed up for. Not at all...
"You're not allowed to play the idiot card, here. You come down here and punch holes into this house and you send some masked fucking bitch to take my wife and...!" Michael couldn't finish the sentence. He didn't want to, even if Raphael had gotten to her, even if Raphael had restored her... mostly. Mostly restored her. But mostly was not nearly enough, and the War Angel took it out on this leftover scrap left behind from the attack, delivered by Jinho. Michael just... hit him. Over and over... Yelling, ordering this man to tell him something. Anything that they hadn't already known. Anything about that masked woman, Celestiel.
Black wings suddenly sprouted from the man's back as he struggled in the ropes he'd been bound with, wrapping in front of him, shielding his battered face... But he regretted ever having wings as soon as Michael released him, circled behind him, took hold of them... and planted one boot between his shoulders blades, pressing down. A cry even louder than all the previous ones spread through the ruined mansion.
"If you can scream, you can talk!" The Fire Angel raised his boot, only to stomp down and snarl over the man's wailing, "Who is this Celestiel? Tell me!"
"I don't knooow...!" The man sobbed, despite the pain spreading through his back, deep in his chest. "Nobody knows but Azrael! I swear!"
"Not good enough!" Michael gripped one wing and began twisting. "I'm going to pop it right out of it's fucking socket if you don't talk!"
"But I've told you everything!" The man still insisted, desperation igniting into anger as he yelled back. "No one knows what her deal is! Azrael brought her in to help our cause!"
"Your cause." Michael's voice was a cruel hiss. "Here's what I think about your cause!" Bone crunched under his hand, dark feathers bent and frayed. The tortured man's scream only seemed to blur with all the others Michael had heard while he'd tried to beat information out of him...
And then he heard laughter.
The man was a sniveling, pained, bewildered... angry wreck. "Okay...!"
"Okay!" The War Angel released his wings, one crooked and useless, and stepped back around to face his captured Uprising member. His arms crossed over his chest, and he waited...
"Azrael... spoke of what Celestiel would do to the worthless Rabbit Queen...!" The man's mouth was full of blood and quaking with hopeless laughs. "You think your whore went through pain? That was nothing! If we had our way, we would have crushed her, torn her to pieces and taken pictures! And then everyone would know that the whore of Heaven is nothing!"
If the man had meant to say more, it was lost in the blood swishing and dribbling out of his mouth, as Michael let out a wild roar and began hitting his bruised, swelling face all over again. An uncomfortable squishing sound began... he kept on hitting. He told himself to stop, that the man wouldn't be able to speak if he kept this up, and yet he couldn't quell the rage well enough to put an end to the beating...
"What the fuck are you doing?" An angry voice shouted loud enough to reach the raging Angel of War. He took two quick steps back, a satisfied smile twisting his face.
"Michael-" Uriel approached Michael, keeping an arm out to stop Serissa from charging forward. All three of them froze when the prisoner began to laugh again, broken, breathy laughter.
"You're all such fools," he muttered, blood oozing from his swollen lips. "She's going to kill all of you. Celestiel..."
Michael snorted. "Not if I kill her, first."
"You've seen it with your own eyes, and you still refuse to believe...?" He laughed again, coughing and sputtering. "She's... a force of nature. She is... God." His head lolled back and he turned one glazed eye to the ceiling, the other swollen fully shut. "Finally... God is on our side. And she is beautiful..." A single tear oozed from his eye and mingled with the blood on his face. "And she finally cares..."
Uriel had been so shocked by this man's bold and heartbreaking claims, that he didn't notice Serissa had approached him until it was too late. He bristled when Serissa gently brushed a piece of sticky white hair off of his forehead.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Michael hissed, his blood-smeared fists clenching tightly.
Serissa ignored him and bent down to whisper something in the tortured Rabbit's ear... something that made the man smile and relax against his bonds. A moment later, both Uriel and Michael lurched forward with collective cries on their tongues. Serissa lifted a pistol to his temple and pulled the trigger, ending his torment with a single bullet.
The Fiery Angel's livid green eyes were wide and mean. "... What the fuck have you done? I wasn't finished with him!" Oh, he had been far from finished with him...!
But Serissa only give him an even, cold stare. "Looks like you are, now."
"Five more minutes with that worthless piece of shit and I would have broken him! He would have told me everything!" Michael insisted, sneering, crossing the room to stop only one pace away from her, quivering with all the anger he could no longer unleash.
"Broken him? Broken him!" Serissa found herself yelling back, standing firm in front of the wild Angel who glared at her. "You've already broken every fucking bone in his face!" She found herself pacing, a tight scowl on her lips. "Have you lost your fucking mind? Torturing a man like that? My children are in this house...!" She halted, pointed a shaky finger at him. "Your children are in this house! What kind of father are you?"
Michael had stood firm the entire time, angry eyes following her, but it wasn't until she'd asked her last question that he exploded in loud yells, swatting her pointing hand away from him. "I'm an angry fucking father, that's what I am! You see your kids here watching me? Because I sure fucking don't!"
Serissa's eyes narrowed into unhappy slits. "Oh, and that's supposed to make it all better, you twisted little imp?" She snapped sarcastically. "Like beating him to death is going to change what happened to your wife? You're an idiot!"
The both of them stepped back when a pair of mocha-skinned hands gently pushed them apart. He knew Michael well enough – and could tell from the level of Serissa's anger – that his efforts would amount to little, and yet he tried, anyway. He reasoned with them, "Maybe you should both just calm down..."
"Shut up, Uriel!" The cry had shot out of both of their mouths, piercing the Earth Angel and striking him into silence. Yes... he knew his attempt at peace wouldn't mean much.
Michael reached out and pulled Uriel out of the way, allowing his green-eyed glare to sear Serissa all over again. "That piece of shit deserved much worse than what I did to him. Doesn't change what the fucking masked bitch did to Nema, no, but he deserved it!"
Uriel sighed heavily, pressing his hand to his forehead. Michael was right back to yelling... why, exactly, did he try to mediate, again?
"Nobody deserves to suffer!" Serissa screamed, her voice straining over the rumbling of the Fire Angel's. "And as long as you are under my roof, you're going to abide by that rule! Do I make myself in any way unclear?" She pointed an angry finger at a broken window, as if she would banish him right out through the broken glass, if she could. "Take your torture sessions elsewhere, or so help me, you're out of here! Judas be damned, I'll endure whatever shit he throws at me! But you're gone! Get it?"
"Fine!" Michael bellowed back. "I have no problem taking one of those stupid clowns all the way back up to Heaven and tossing them in an actual interrogation room! I have no fucking problem with that!" He took a half step closer to the angry Revenant, his face stern and cruel, his voice low as he grumbled, "But you wait. One way or another, I'm going to find that masked bitch, and I'm going to make her regret what she's done to Nema...! I'm going to hunt her down, and when I do... it will be one of the finest kills I have ever made. Right up there with Cheriour."
Serissa crossed her arms over her chest, her nails biting into the ink etched on her skin. "Oh, and I bet you'll be damn proud of yourself, won't you?" The words dripped like venom from her mouth.
He leaned forward, as if he needed to make absolutely sure she understood just how serious he was. "Fiercely proud."
This time, the Earth Angel was a little more rough when he stepped between them, pushing the War Angel back. "All right, enough!" His voice came forth from the little pendant that rested perfectly against the base of his scarred throat as it dangled from it's short, thin chain. It was even deeper than Michael's, and somehow, even more threatening, though he said so little. "Both of you." He met Serissa's eyes and held her gaze for a moment, allowing a beat of silence to go by before he continued. "We have more important things to be dealing with, right now, don't you think?"
"Feh...!" Uriel looked at Michael as he rolled his eyes, "Everyone else is cleaning out the place, aren't they? Are they done already?"
"Nearly. Go to your wife; I will come get you when it's finished. We all need to get together and discuss some things."
"I'll say!"
"Just go, Michael." Uriel said, his voice tired and strained from his jangling nerves. He needed to get these two as far away from each other as possible. Serissa's body was so tense she was visibly shaking, glaring daggers into the Fire Angel.
"I'm fucking gone. I've got better shit to deal with anyway!"
As Michael stomped away, Serissa was barely able to stop herself from hurling one of her figurines at the back of his red head. Uriel watched as she turned on her booted heel and stomped out of the room, her brown hair waving behind her as she spun and fled.
"Serissa..." He said quietly, daring to follow her out of the room and into the kitchen. She braced her arms on the counter and fought to calm her own breathing, Uriel could see it in the tension of her shoulders and the crease of her brow. "Hey. It's okay."
"The fuck it is...!" Serissa said angrily. "You know, it's people like him that make this world such an ugly place."
The statement made Uriel fumble. "... How could you say something like that?"
Serissa finally noticed the streak of blood that had splattered over her tattooed arm. She groaned and looked away, suddenly desperate to find a towel. Uriel stopped her by gently gripping her wrist and pulling her towards him. He fished his dirty handkerchief out of his pocket to mop away the blood... so she didn't have to.
Her coral lips quivered slightly as she kept her gaze off of her arm, ignoring the sudden waves of nausea. Ignoring the visions of the blood that covered the inside of her home, visions that adrenaline and anger had kept at bay until that moment.
"I just... I don't understand why people always think that revenge is the answer. Why spilling blood is always the solution. All it creates is a vicious cycle of revenge and death."
"What would you have him do?" Uriel asked softly, wiping her arm clean. He stole a glance at her face and noticed more drops of blood on her cheek and neck. "... May I?" he gestured to her throat. When Serissa swallowed and nodded, he softly reached his hand out to dab away the remaining bits of blood. To his subtle shame, he allowed himself to study the gentle slope of her neck as he cleaned it for her. From the corner of his eyes, he watched her lips pinch together in a display of mild disgust and suppressed nausea. He still marvelled at the idea of a Vampire that was so nauseated by the sight of blood, but mainly his curiosity bit into him. How had she come to be this way? "He's scared. He's just trying to protect his family."
"And what about that man's family? The man whose brains I had to just blow out so he wouldn't keep suffering? So he wouldn't face a much crueler death at the hands of your 'scared' friend?"
"I don't know how to answer that." Uriel murmured.
"Because there is no answer. There's never an answer." Serissa frowned when Uriel finished cleaning off her neck. "It's like Michael forgets that he's responsible for this, in a way. That maybe all those Rabbits he killed, all those years ago...? Maybe their families are the ones looking for revenge."
"Everybody makes mistakes, Serissa."
"And everybody pays for them." Serissa turned again. "... I need to go check on my kids."
"Wait." Uriel reached out a hand to stop her. "Before you shot that man... you said something to him."
"... You want to know what I said?"
"Yes."
Serissa sighed and massaged her own forehead, taking a moment to collect herself before looking back at him. "I told him what he needed to hear: that his God, this... 'Celestiel'... hadn't abandoned him."
"Why would you lie to him like that?"
"Because nobody deserves to suffer," she said as she walked through the door. "And nobody deserves to die without hope, either."
xXxXxXx
A small grunt left the lips of former Dragonmaster, her golden hands pulling hard on the denim of her now-useless pants. She needed clothing... she couldn't roam around in a dark green bedsheet that had been tied to her body like a cheap toga...
She sighed when the denim finally gave way under her grip, turning her useless pants into shorts that she... hoped would be more useful. The bedsheet slipped to the floor as she undid the knots, and on went the shorts. "... Shinryu fucking help me..." Lilith swore as the denim pinched at her hips. She hopped and glared at her reflection in her vanity as she struggled to get her impromptu shorts over the generous curves of her hips, the rise of her... well... bottom. "... Dammit!" She stomped and snarled and finally the denim moved further up her body. She stopped and stared at herself.
Yeah... no way in Hell was she going to zip these up. She turned and glared at her rump like the enemy it was, in that moment. Womanly curves... fucking hips that spoke of fertility. The Elder Council would be clapping their hands, right about now... "Ugh..." Lilith grumbled and grabbed the largest shirt she had, a shirt previously used as a nightshirt. It used to fall to her formerly knobby knees in a shapeless mass of purple cloth, embroidered and beaded at the sleeves and bottom hem like more of the traditional clothing of Gehenna was. This time, the shirt fell far enough down to hide the unzipped, unbuttoned fly of her shorts, and that was about it. The lower curve of her rear still showed... and somehow, the shapeless shirt was now given a shape, her breasts pushing the purple fabric out and causing it to drape over her body in a way that almost teased and invited...
Lilith was mortified. Her cat-eye pupils thinned into slits in her wide eyes, and her hands closed over her breasts. More than a handful, easily... she needed a bra. She desperately needed a bra or else she was going to bounce everywhere and everyone would look and she would kill them for looking. She was shit with a sword but dammit, she would find a way if they looked...!
The knocking on the door was gentle and quiet and grated all the more on her nerves, because of it. "What?" She snapped.
"Princess..."
Oh, of course it was him. "Jinho, go away."
There was a pause, and Lilith could only assume he was sighing. "Are you decent?"
She glanced at herself in the mirror.
"... Lilith?"
"I guess I'm fucking decent!" She snapped. Until she got new clothes, this was as decent as she could ever hope to be...
Jinho slipped through the wood of her door, not bothering to open and close it. Knowing Lilith, he was sure she had it locked, anyway. His cane lightly tapped just once on her floor, punctuating the silence that followed. That dark green bedsheet no longer shielded her adult body, and the clothes she'd chosen only emphasized her new form. The way the fabric was pulled taut here and there. The way her impromptu shorts left her so much of her legs bare. No more knobby knees, clearly...
"Jinho, I am this fucking close to punching your perverted fucking face in! You can't even imagine!"
"I'm sorry." Ink-black eyes immediately dropped to the carpet. "Your changes are... a bit..."
"Hideous?"
"Surprising." Jinho insisted with a small frown.
Lilith's bare feet padded across the room as mental daggers shot out of her maroon eyes. "Don't talk to me about surprises; you're not the one stuck inside this body!"
"I know." She hated how even when he seemed exasperated, his voice was smooth like cool water over stones. "I know. I'm sorry."
She found herself brushing her champagne blonde locks over her bosom – anything to cover it – and grumbled, "So do you want something?"
"Everyone is gathering to discuss what's happened."
"What is there to discuss? We got attacked by Rabbits, their not-so-beloved Queen nearly got offed, I nearly got offed. That's it. The end."
The Gehenna Vampire pulled his top hat off of his head, and the action sent the few loose waves of hair that had escaped his low ponytail free and falling around his face. "It has more to do with where we should go from here."
It was Lilith's turn to stare at the floor.
"... They will want to speak with you."
"'Course they will." The Evil's lips pressed into a thin line. "Fine, let's go." Some upset part of her allowed herself to bump against his shoulder, though it did little to affect his balance or his impossibly calm temper.
And she hated that about him, too. And the way he seemed to have no problem with silence, even really strained ones, like the one they shared as they moved down the hall, down a flight of steps. "... So the place is still a mess." It really was, though to be fair, they'd clearly done all they could do. But no amount of cleaning would have saved the carpets, stained in blood. Or the gouges in the walls from too many weapons and bodies... Burn marks, no doubt from Michael...
She was happy that Jinho replied and distracted her. "Until more adequate repairs can be made, this is the best we can do, I'm afraid..."
"You're still a mess, too."
Jinho tried to tell himself that Lilith being blunt and a touch mean was better than Lilith being clearly out of sorts, like she had been for the battle. It meant that she was coming to grips with this... suddenly even more complicated situation. "I have not had the time to wash up, no." He looked down at himself as his cane tapped across each step. The blade hiding inside desperately needed to be properly washed and cared for... His white gloves had been stained with far too much blood to ever be saved, and he'd thrown them away before going to get Lilith. Spots of blood dotted his white cravat, and he knew he'd need to throw that away, too... His hair was mussed and messy and the soft waves that had fallen out of his ponytail brushed softly against his cheekbones. "I look forward to unwinding as soon as this little meeting is over... We all need it."
"We'll probably be packing, instead."
A smooth frown creased the Gehenna Vampire's lips, but Lilith moved ahead of him, following the sounds of voices. She moved through a set of double doors that had been propped open, seeing several of their group sitting in chairs around a long dining table. Serissa, her arms crossed over her chest. Raphael sat slumped in his chair, leaning to one side, his face resting on his fist. Lilith arched a brow at him. The Wind Angel looked like his was barely keeping himself awake. Setsuna's chair scooted across the floor as Lilith entered, his brown eyes widening, his mouth opening and then promptly shutting.
Lilith looked over her shoulder just in time to see Jinho shaking his had at the Messiah, giving him a silent warning...
It set Lilith off in a way she couldn't hope to contain. "I know, I'm fucking lumpy! You don't need to gawk at me!"
Setsuna gestured helplessly, though his face grew moody and cross. "How are you expecting people to react? You're practically two feet taller and you have D cups!"
"What the fuck are D cups?"
"It's a bra size here in Assiah; calm down." Raphael grumbled from his seat.
The former Dragonmaster shifted her rage at him. "Calm down? Calm down? I got my potions stolen and I nearly got murdered; don't tell me to calm down!"
"We all nearly got murdered." Setsuna snapped.
"I was a target! I'm not sure that our situations are the same!"
The Messiah's head tilted as he glared at Lilith. "How were you a target? That doesn't make any sense!"
"I have a great idea!" Raphael said in a low, unhappy rumble. "How about we just sit down and wait for everyone to get here before we talk?"
"Oh, go take a fucking nap!" Lilith hissed. "What the Hell did you do that was so taxing? Ruffle their feathers with the breeze?"
His head lifted, and his hand dropped against the arm of his chair as he delivered an ice-blue, cold glare. "I've healed nearly every single person in this mansion, one of whom was fatally wounded. Tell me, what exactly did you contribute to any of this mess?" His face didn't change, even as Lilith's lips pursed into an moody pout. His icy eyes merely shifted just beyond her. "You're sure you're fine, Jinho?"
Jinho's hands flew up in an excusing gesture. "No, no. Nothing that a Vampiric 'nightcap' of sorts won't fix. I promise."
"Speaking of." Serissa seemed to be trying hard not to boil over, waving at a stylized silver teapot. "It's warm."
"Then it's perfect." The Gehenna Vampire moved over to sit by her, pouring the thick, red liquid into one of a few teacups. A part of him itched to ask for tea to mix in, and he ignored that urge. He knew it was better to take in the blood as it was now, pure, for the sake of some scratches here, a bruise there... even if the purity of the blood sent that fuzzy heat through him.
The former Dragonmaster shook as she glared at Raphael, but if she had anything to say, Serissa took those words and drowned them when she grumbled at her, "Please just sit, Lilith. You'll get your chance to scream like a banshee soon enough."
What else could Lilith do but stomp over to the nearest chair in her bare feet and plop down into it? Anger made her deaf to the approaching voices of the people they waited for.
"... just like her. Should Setsuna and I?"
"No. Forget about it."
"Michael, Raphael insisted on bedrest, didn't he?"
"Are you fucking serious right now, Uriel? This is Nema. She gets bored more easily than I do."
"It's fine for now. After all, poor Isobelle really needs her mother after this... Setsuna!" Jibril suddenly hurried when she stepped into the dining room, a bit of cloth cradled in her hands. "Here, catch."
The Messiah blinked and fumbled with the bundle she quickly tossed to him before she even rounded the table to sit beside him, but he understood as soon as he unwrapped it, the glint of light shining off of the crystal, cross-shaped earring. "Oh... I should get this back to her-"
"Tomorrow. She can wait. She won't be using it tonight, anyway." A small smile crossed her lips as her husband passed a concerned hand across her forehead, through her light blue hair. "I'm fine. I didn't hold it for all that long..."
Uriel pulled out another chair, motioning to the several left over. "Sit, Michael."
"Am I your dog, now? I'm standing. This won't take long." He crossed his arms over his chest and glared over at Serissa. "As soon as Nema's all better, we're leaving. You won't have to worry about future torture sessions happening here."
Lilith bit at the insides of her cheeks. It started...
"I'm ready to go with you." Raphael nodded at him with tired eyes. "If there's even a chance this is going to keep happening, I want to be near Barbiel and Abel."
"We should definitely take this away from Assiah." Setsuna agreed. "It's not as if this place has the luxury of time stopping, this time around. We'll be lucky if this doesn't make it on at least the local news..."
"It won't make it anywhere near the news." Serissa insisted. "I won't let it, and Judas definitely won't let it."
"Then we got lucky... this time."
The Revenant only nodded in quiet agreement, seeming to want as little to do with this conversation as possible.
A beat of silence passed, and Lilith wasn't even sure why. Wasn't it obvious? Everyone wanted out, and how could she blame them? Their untouchable, indestructible game piece was thoroughly dismantled. So what was the point in waiting around for some magic, Angelic consensus? She stood, and heard the scrape of another chair join hers.
"We mustn't be hasty."
What? Lilith turned wide, incredulous maroon eyes at the Gehenna Vampire who licked the last bit of blood off his lip and adjusted the top hat sitting on his head.
"Hasty?" Michael scoffed. "What the fuck are you even talking about? We never should have even humored this piece of shit Dragonmaster!"
"Michael-"
But the Fire Angel spoke over Jinho. "And if we hadn't humored this piece of shit Dragonmaster, this never would have happened, and Nema would be fine. She would be fucking fine!"
"I beg to differ, Michael-sama." Jinho kept his voice even in the face of all the heated words being hurled at him. "You can't say for certain that this wouldn't have happened. Clearly it was a part of the Uprising's plans to have this Celestiel woman attack Nema. This would have happened one way or another. The location isn't a true factor in any of this."
"Don't you fucking say that sh-"
"It is the truth, Michael-sama. You have to consider the fact that the Uprising has a powerful player on their side. More powerful than Nemaelle."
A sneer pulled itself across Michael's lips, green eyes burning holes into Jinho's skull. "You talk about this like it's nothing to you. Nema nearly died, you fucking realize that shit?"
"I do not wish harm on my friend." Strange, how even when Jinho was clearly struck by an accusation, he spoke so smoothly. Smooth in a different way... like the slow, sure stroke of a knife in the hand of someone confident enough to take their time. "Nemaelle is a valued part of our group and I know that all of us care for her in some respect. She is the daughter of two of us, the mother of two others, your wife, and a dear friend to several of the rest. This is not a discussion of Nema's importance, or how much she is cared for. This is a discussion about the inevitability of this attack occurring."
"So because this was inevitable, we should just stay right where we're at? That's what you're seriously saying to me right now?"
"I'm saying that it does not matter where we go. Clearly there are spies of some sort in the Uprising who are marvelous trackers. Nemaelle told me that all of you who left Heaven did so in the very early morning. No one should have seen you."
Michael found himself momentarily speechless, and he remembered why sometimes, Jinho really did just... rub him the wrong fucking way. Calm to the point of coldness... Sometimes the bastard just reminded him a little too much of his brother. And that set him off all over again... "All your facts aren't exactly telling me to fucking stay, Jinho. They're telling me to get out there and take these fuckers out before they can pull another number like this!"
"Michael-sama, please. I am speaking to you as a friend. You cannot and should not go after Celestiel as you are, now. Your rage blinds you..."
"And you sitting on your hands and dragging your feet about this is getting so much done, isn't it?"
Jinho only turned his ink-black eyes to the Angel of Healing. "Raphael, what condition was Nema in when Michael called you to her?"
Raphael blinked tired eyes at the Vampire, but he answered with a sleepy sigh, "I can't really... explain it. Her internal organs seemed scrambled, somehow... If I hadn't gotten to her, she would have gone into shock and died. She was already starting to go into shock when I reached her."
"Did Nema tell you if she knew how this happened to her...?"
"No. No you fucking don't you fucking Demon." Michael cut in before Raphael could even begin to form a reply in his lethargic mind.
"Everything about your response tells me that even if Raphael doesn't know, you do." Jinho responded with a frown.
"So what if I do?"
"How did Celestiel do this to Nema?"
Michael suddenly crossed the room, making a beeline for Jinho with clenched fists. The Vampire was quick to draw the hidden blade from his cane and point it at the Angel of War.
"I'm not here to fight you. I am trying to make a point. Somehow, Celestiel was able to take hold of a woman no one could hope to get close to and nearly kill her, merely by touching her. You have to consider the implications of that kind of strength... Michael-sama, who is to say Celestiel couldn't somehow do the same to you... or worse? We know what she is capable of, but we have no clue if that's the furthest limit of her power. That could have been as simple to her as a flicker of flame is to you..."
"Get your fucking blood-covered blade out of my fucking face, Jinho." His voice was low and quivering with threats.
"Say it was you, today." Jinho insisted, the smoothness of his voice softening into something like feathers. "And say that Raphael could not get to you. Maybe they took you away... Now you're dead. Heaven loses an Elemental Angel and the General of their Army."
"So what?"
"You don't mean that."
"So what?"
"So Nemaelle loses her husband." Jinho continued, his impossibly dark eyes pleading. "Think of it, Michael, think of all that effort. The Revolution and the trial... it was for Heaven, but it was also for her, for the both of you. And now she's lost you, for it."
In that moment he would've liked to set the Gehenna Vampire and his silky tongue on fire. "... Fuck you and your hypothetical situations, Jinho." Michael grabbed a chair, pulling it out and falling into it in a moody clatter of boots and the wooden legs of the chair itself.
"And your children... they lose their father. Nathaniel is five. That is no age for a boy to lose a parent... and Isobelle is only two. She's only just barely begun to know you, Michael-sama."
"I said fuck you, Jinho!" Michael suddenly snarled.
Of course he'd struck a chord inside of the Fire Angel. Sometimes, that was the only way to get through to him... Jinho sighed and slipped the blade back into the sheath of his deadly cane.
"With all due respect, Jinho..." This time it was Jibril who spoke, her voice every bit as gentle in it's reasoning as Jinho's own. "Everything you have said only gives us more incentive to leave. Not stay in a location they already know how to get to. Celestiel is clearly no one to be messed with, or taken lightly. Remaining here seems like an invitation, doesn't it?"
Before Jinho could reply, Setsuna spoke, adding on a point he had hoped – admittedly, in vain – would never be brought up. "It's not as if we can count on the Shinryu to give us advanced warning about any attempts to attack us, again. Judging from Lilith's... um..."
Lilith's eyes narrowed angrily. "My what? My tits? My ass?"
Setsuna's shoulders slumped, and he muttered, "Yes. Judging from Lilith's tits and ass, she can't exactly call up the Shinryu, anymore."
"Go fuck yourself, Messiah!"
"Princess." Jinho's ink-black eyes met hers, and he motioned to her chair. "Please, sit. This is going to be sorted out."
Lilith wanted to just fucking scream at him and his top hat and his cane and his everything. What the point in all this? But she dropped back down into her chair, arms crossed, glaring at the dark oak table.
"It's true, though. Lilith isn't the Dragonmaster, anymore. How are we even supposed to go about the Prophecy, now?" Raphael asked.
Jinho's lips curled into a charming, though very unhappy frown. "The same way we have been, before this happened..." He spoke slowly, even allowed himself to sound confused, because he truly was.
Raphael gestured helplessly. "How?"
His frown grew a bit taut, firm on his face. "I'm not sure what's so difficult to understand about the Prophecy and how to deal with it. Lilith's recent misfortune doesn't delete the Prophecy itself. The Prophecy still exists; it is still a very real threat."
"But the Shinryu can't tell us-" Setsuna insisted.
It wasn't typically in Jinho's nature to interrupt, but even his nerves had become raw in the heat of all of this. "But the Shinryu hadn't been telling us much of anything since we came together, here. It hadn't bothered any of you, then. Now it does?"
"It has more to do with the fact that now there is no way for the Shinryu to contact us in the future." Uriel reasoned quietly.
"If I may be frank… I believe that we have gotten far too comfortable with holding the hands of the Shinryu. We need to realize that we cannot always be given the answers. Sometimes we must work for them."
A short, "Feh...!" came out of Michael's moody mouth.
"I am surprised that so many people in this room, who have never had to listen to the Shinryu before, are suddenly so dependent on the Shinryu that their lack of presence strikes fear into your hearts..." Jinho wondered out loud, his voice soft and even a bit sad.
"Oh, fuck off, Jinho." Michael snapped, glaring up at him. "This whole thing was about what the Shinryu were supposed to be telling your bitchy fucking Princess. This isn't fear, this is us knowing when we've been fucked over."
"Do not pin this on Lilith." Jinho's cane tapped against the ground in a single, firm motion that seemed sudden and strange, coming from him. "And it is fear. I understand that there are so many legitimate concerns about staying. But if it didn't matter before, why does it matter, now? Because we have had a taste of the battles we were going to be fighting, anyway?"
"What does this attack even have to do with the Prophecy? It's the fucking Uprising blowing up into an outright terrorist group! That's all it is!"
"We have every reason to believe that the Uprising is at least involved in the Prophecy on some level, Michael-sama. If not for Celestiel's power in itself, then because the leader, Azrael, has made it very clear that Nemaelle was not their only target in this attack. It was also Lilith."
"Jesus fucking Christ, Jinho. Lie better." The War Angel snapped.
"It is no lie, and it makes a disturbing amount of sense, if you think about it." Jinho insisted, the smoothness of his voice cutting through all of Michael's roughness. "Lilith's youth potions were stolen at some point between last night and today. Soon they were discovered to be missing... not long after Lilith had been forced into reverting to her true form, they commenced their attack."
"... They waited to be sure the Shinryu couldn't warn her of their presence?" Uriel asked, frowning up at the Gehenna Vampire.
"The timing is entirely too convenient. Just long enough to be sure the Shinryu couldn't send a warning... but not a second to spare, after that." Jinho nodded. "And then there is the fact that the leader of the Uprising sought out Lilith himself, to kill her." His head tilted as he spoke to Michael. "You ought to be considering this yourself, Michael. You were the one who saved her."
He threw his hands up in the air. "So Azrael tried to cut her throat open! That doesn't make her a target!"
"Except for the fact that he said so!" Lilith snapped at him. "He said they needed me out of the way! That they had to make sure of it!"
"Yeah?" Michael's eyes burned into hers. "And tell me, why exactly should any Angel give a single fuck about you?"
That hurt Lilith a little more than she felt it ought to have... Her pupils thinned into cat-eyed slits, and her mouth fell open to snap at him all over again, but he continued grumbling and glaring.
"Here's a thought – maybe the world doesn't revolve around your ass, Princess! This Uprising thing? It started without you. Just like the Revolution started without you and the Rabbit Hunting started without you and every fucking war ever started without you! But now suddenly the leader of a rebel group tries to off you and, oh! This entire fucking political issue in Heaven must be about me!" Michael snorted. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"
Lilith stood and hear her chair tip over behind her, as she planted her golden hands on the table. "That's really fucking rich coming from an Angel with one of the biggest fucking egos ever! Does it bug you that maybe this stupid Uprising issue is tied in with a Prophecy a little Evil girl made? You don't get to play the 'Lilith has an ego' card! Because guess what? Right fucking back at you! The world is bigger than Heaven and whatever fucking stupid issues you have up there!"
"Enough." The single word was an echo between the Gehenna Vampire and the Earth Angel.
Jinho's voice was a whisper in Lilith's ear, which had gone red in all her anger. "Please sit. It's okay..." She lifted up her chair and dropped back into it with a grumble, and he continued. "Lilith has no reason to lie about herself being a target. We have to consider that the Uprising may have a very real part of the Prophecy, and if so, then we do need to stick together. The Shinryu said they needed the aid of the Elemental Angels and King Judas. Judas is Assiahbound. That means we must stay here..."
"... And what do you suggest we do, then, Jinho?" Serissa asked, seeming nearly as tired as Raphael, by this point. Just watching everyone else argue was so very draining... "If you insist that all of you Angels and Demons should keep taking up residence here, what do we do? I have children here. You're asking me to keep them in the line of fire, Jinho..."
"I know..." Jinho nodded, speaking quietly. Odd how the quietness of his voice seemed all the more piercing after all that screaming... "The best that I can suggest is that we treat your home like our fortress. Now more than ever, we need to be on the defensive. Anyone not fit to defend themselves should be given protection. Every child, Nema so long as she's unwell, and Lilith."
"Hah." Michael gave a short, sarcastic laugh. "Of course the Princess gets a personal guard. Of course she does."
"Well I'm sorry I don't have military fucking training!" Lilith hissed.
"You ought to."
"Well I don't!"
"Well you ought to!"
Jinho wasn't sure that he liked Michael's insistence. "Michael-sama, you can't possibly be suggesting..."
"If you are so fucking sure she's a target, then she needs to be able to defend herself! She can't count on a bodyguard every hour of the day and night! We do still have fucking lives, even if we have to spend them here." Michael said dryly. "So I'll do it. Train her and turn her loose."
Lilith blinked and felt herself recoiling at the very idea. "Are you serious?"
"Why? Princess feeling a little scared?" Michael mocked her, scowling.
"This isn't boot camp, Michael!"
"Oh, I'll make it boot camp!" He bit out harshly. "I can't say it'll be painless, but it'll be fucking quick. We don't have time to take it easy. It's not like we can ask the fucking Shinryu how much time we have!"
"You're insane!" Lilith cried incredulously. "You're going to end up killing me!"
"Honestly, if I fucking kill you?" Michael crossed his arms over his chest. "Then it goes to show you shouldn't have been running around preaching Prophecies of destruction in epic proportions. If you can't survive me, you can't survive a fucking Apocalypse of any fucking measure!" He strode over to the doorway, snapping as he went. "And who goes off to save the world without having any experience fighting? At least Setsuna knew how to punch a man's lights out! What the fuck can you do? Nothing!"
"Fuck you, Michael! I'm not entirely useless!"
"Then prove it! Tomorrow, 0500."
"What?"
"Five fucking AM! Jesus Christ..." Michael tore a hand through his red hair. "Are we done here? Please tell me we're fucking done, here."
Jinho blinked ink-black eyes and looked over everyone else's faces. "... Yes. I suppose we are done, here."
"Good. Nobody talk to me for the rest of the fucking night; it's been a shitty day." He left, and after a pause that was loud in all it's silence, everyone else began to slowly trickle away into their rooms, though Jinho poured himself another teacup full of blood.
He looked over to see the Water Angel stopping beside Lilith, offering a quiet, "I assume you'll need better clothing, for tomorrow."
"Obviously." Lilith snapped, not even bothering to look at her...
But Jibril was patient, even smiling, though it was small and sad. "I can stop by later with some of my clothes. I... don't think I have anything that will fit... around your bust." She paused when the former Dragonmaster dropped her elbow against the arm of her chair in frustration. "But I should have some pants that I rarely wear... they might fit a little better. Shoes and socks, too."
Lilith wanted to just scream at her and all her charity. The worst part was she could have a whole new wardrobe in seconds... but she would have needed to contact the Elder Council in order to do so. That was the very last thing she wanted to do... so how could she refuse this? "Thanks, I guess."
It was only then when Jibril left alongside her husband, the pair giving Jinho a short bow that he returned. He stood, sighing and sipping, until his cup was empty and Lilith was still slumped down in her chair... Jinho didn't bother trying to coax her to return to her room. After everything that had happened, maybe she deserved to sit in the dining room, if that's what she really wanted... He set down the cup and made ready to leave, his cane tapping the ground as he moved. "Goodnight, Princess."
"Jinho?"
He paused just past her chair, looking at her over his shoulder. "Yes, Lilith?" He frowned as he looked down at her. He couldn't fault her for feeling overwhelmed or stressed, after today, but it still seemed out of place to see her look so... troubled, one hand reaching up to rub one of her Dragonmaster earrings.
"... Why?"
"I don't think I understand..."
"No! Bullshit, Jinho! You understand perfectly!" She snapped, glaring up at him with dark red cat eyes.
Jinho frowned down at her. "Did you want to go back?"
No... No, obviously that was the very last thing she wanted, now that she was all breasts and hips and shapely legs and no Shinryu... When she heard another tap from his cane, saw him turn to leave all over again, she found the next two words clawing out of her throat and shooting off into the air. "Thank you...!"
"We can take care of this Prophecy without the Shinryu." Jinho's voice was simple and smooth, cool water over rocks again. "There's no need to thank me for convincing them of the obvious."
"I'm just saying you didn't have to-"
"I thought you didn't want to get married to a lecher with six wives."
Something about that statement cut into her. Something in the sudden iciness of his voice and the unreadable black of his eyes. "... Well... Well I don't!" That much was the truth. That had always been the truth. Why would she ever want to subject herself to being one wife out of many? Why had the Elder Council ever thought that would be a great idea, to begin with? The day they'd chosen Jinho for her was the day she knew just how little the Elders cared for her...
Finally, some strange, bitter kind of smile curled on Jinho's charming lips. "Well then... be happy. I've bought us some more time." He spoke over his shoulder as he left her there, sitting in the dining room. "Rest... you will need it when you start your training, tomorrow."
xXxXxXx
"That was quick..."
Of course she was still awake and nowhere near their bed. Michael had figured he'd return to that much, and though he knew that wasn't what Nema had been instructed to do... it still made him happy to see her sitting at the coffee table, wearing nothing but their infamous and wonderful black, button-down shirt. It may have been his, but she stole it often enough for him to think it was hers, too. "Sure didn't feel quick." His eyes, more blue than green, widened slightly as his gaze dropped to the table. Shards of broken glass from what must have been one of the bottles of root beer Nathan had become obsessed with drinking... A very welcome, excited smile suddenly pulled on his lips, and he hurried over to her. "Hey, you-!"
"No." Nema's voice was small, her snowy cheeks burning pink in embarrassment. "No, I... I just broke it in the sink. That's all."
The smile dropped from the Fiery Angel's face as he looked down and realized all the other things that were covering the table... a notebook with a pen sitting on top of it, columns marked on the top page. Three of them, each labeled, 'Attempt No.', 'Time', 'Damage'... A stopwatch sat in her bare lap, the blue dragon etched around her thigh seeming to reach for it...
"I guess I just figured that the whole bottle might be a bit... much. I mean... start small. Right?"
He hated how... small and broken her voice was, broken like all the glass on the table. "... You just start?" The notebook didn't have much written on it... Attempt number one. Nothing else... He looked down at the crown of her snowy head, and Nema merely showed him the stopwatch. She must have stopped it as soon as he walked in...
45 minutes, 13 seconds... She'd been staring a single shard of glass for over half an hour with no result.
Nema watched when Michael cleared out the stopwatch and tossed it aside, grabbed the notebook and flung it to the floor. His hand brushed aside the sharp little shards, pushing them into a pile. "Nema." He ran his hand through her freshly washed, ivory strands of hair as she tilted her head up at him. "You are more than an Aion." She opened her mouth to speak, and he silenced her with a finger to her lips, just like she loved to do to him. "No. You're a tough fucking bitch who can take anything. Including this."
The sadness on her face softened, and she smiled between a pair of kisses she left on his fingertip. "So no experiments?"
"I'm not saying you shouldn't try. You should fucking try...!" He reached for the steaming cup of tea Nema had been sipping from. "But fuck, Nema... Raphael just had to put you back together like you're a jigsaw puzzle. Take it easy. I don't want your liver to randomly dislodge or some crazy shit..." He held the cup to his face, inhaling the steam, his red brows furrowing just a bit. "I mean, fuck bedrest. You feel good enough to get up and smash a bottle in the sink, do it. But I don't know. At least wait till tomorrow for your glass experiment. That's all I'm saying." He finally took a sip, and outright grimaced. "The fuck is this tea?"
Nema's head tilted, her smile growing. "It's just peppermint tea, Michael. Just like Raphael said I should drink."
He took another sip, and he set the cup back down. "Sure don't envy you, right now."
This time she laughed, though she pressed a pale hand to her stomach in the process. "Oh come on! It's not that bad! It's not even vaguely bad!"
"Hey, good for you if you like shit tea, I guess!"
She laughed again, tapping his hip with her free fist. "So do the others know about my, um..."
Michael allowed her to refrain from spelling out her condition. "It didn't come up at the meeting." He shrugged it off. "People will find out through the grapevine tomorrow. They don't need know right this fucking second. They know you're gonna be cooped up in here and bored out of your sorry skull for a while and that's all they need to know, right now."
"And then we're leaving...?"
As much as Michael had wished this wouldn't come up, he knew it would have. "... No. Your best friend Mr. Vampire convinced everyone to stay. I guess this mansion is a fort, now."
Sighing, Nema leaned over, resting her cheek against his hip and quietly reveling in the feel of his fingers threading through her hair. "Oppa wouldn't have pushed for that if he didn't think we could pull off staying..."
"Yeah, well we better fucking pull it off. Now that Lilith's basically worthless I'm gonna be training her so she won't get fucking slaughtered. Then hopefully we'll get this Shinryu shit figured out and she can get high and talk to them, again."
Nema looked up at him with a confused little frown. "Training her?"
"Yeah. It's gonna be a fucking nightmare, I know it. But somebody has to..."
"When do you start?"
"Tomorrow, bright and early."
"Oh..." Little snowy fingers curled around his belt buckle.
Michael's eyes were half-closed and very blue, as Nema's lips began to kiss the expanse of skin below his bellybutton. "Aren't you a bit too queasy right now?"
"We were rudely interrupted earlier today. I don't like being interrupted..." She was already picking up where they'd left off, her hands pulling open his belt.
Oh, how was he supposed to reject her, especially after a day like this one? A needy growl rumbled in his throat, and he took her by her elbows, lifting her out of her chair to pull her against his body.
But that action alone, simple as it was, sent a gasp from Nema's lips... a startled one, an unhappy one, and when she pressed her body against his, it was only because she would have stumbled over, otherwise. She looked down at herself, one hand resting over her stomach, the other clinging onto Michael's shoulder. She knew Raphael had said she'd be feeling really out of sorts for a while, but this was torturous...! Frustrated tears touched her eyes when she saw Michael's hand join hers, pressed against her fragile torso. "Sorry..."
"Don't be sorry." His voice was quiet but firm, rough around the edges, soft in the middle. He removed her hand from her belly and placed her teacup in her palm. "Guess we're gonna have to be good little Angels for a while, huh?"
They tried to laugh it off as he slowly took her to bed. Some other time, then... but soon. Oh God, hopefully very soon...