Chapter 3: The Return

Sitting still against the cinder block, Michael stared up at the figure darkening his windowsill. The crisp Seattle air blew in, filling the room with a light chill. There was a mixture of both relief and sadness that fell over Michael. He had wondered if maybe Azrael was dead, lost to him completely. Or perhaps the World had finally gotten the better of her. It had been so many years since he had last seen her. Since he had last embraced her.

And now she stood in front of him, wearing a soldier's uniform. Her dark hair blew about in the breeze and her unflinching glower made her eyes seem even brighter than usual. Along with the standard-issue Kevlar and guns in holsters, she also had her two short swords sheathed and strapped to her lower back. The uniform looked similar to the Archangel Corps uniform, except that it was black with red accents and a strange red sigil on the front of her vest. Azrael looked well rested and strong as usual.

She jumped down from the windowsill and stood not far from him, glaring down at him with a palpable fierceness. "Where is the Chosen One, Michael?"

Michael picked up the bottle of bourbon and took another swig. "Why don't you ask Gabriel."

Azrael moved quickly, quicker than Michael had expected, as she knocked the bottle from his hands and yanked him to his feet. "What are you doing? Wake up! Everything is falling to pieces!" she yelled in his face, hoping to break his stupor.

He stumbled back for a moment, dazed. But she succeeded in waking his anger again, zapping some life into his exhausted limbs. Michael growled at her, "And how would you know, Azrael? Where have you been all this time?" And then he gestured at her uniform and spat out, "Playing soldier in New Delphi?"

"I have been trying to do what you asked me to do. Keeping the peace, moving pieces into place, playing chess. Uriel has been doing the same!" she responded, loudly.

Michael's expression went blank as he stared at her. His still-drunken body swayed slightly as he quietly asked, "What do you mean? About Uriel?"

"You didn't know? She's been in Helena. She's been playing sides. Even speaking with Gabriel. Who knows what game she is playing now, except that she must not be trusted. Only to serve herself as usual."

"But she…"

Azrael sighed. "They're your siblings. They are treacherous and you know it."

Frustrated, Michael balled his fists and yelled, "I KNOW THAT!"

His outburst didn't faze the other archangel. Her expression didn't change. She didn't even flinch when he stepped closer to her and grabbed her by the upper arms. And then he slammed her against the nearby wall, pinning her against it with his hands still on her. She didn't seem to stop him nor make any defensive actions as she glared back at him and let him rage, hoping she wouldn't have to resort to putting him in his place.

His face was close to hers as he harshly said, "And I am just as treacherous as they are. I'm a monster."

Azrael shifted ever so slightly causing him to look down the length of his own body only to find that she had a small curved blade pressed against his leg where his femoral artery would be.

Quietly, almost hissing, she countered, "If you're a monster, then I am too."

Looking into her face again, Michael spoke in a clipped tone. "Father always turned a blind eye to your way of doing things."

"He needed me to do the things I had to do as much as he needed you to enforce them."

Michael moved even closer to her, despite the blade digging sharply into him. His body leaned heavily into hers, his breath warm against her as he spoke into her ear, "Why did you leave me? I could have used your help in Vega."

"You had Noma. You were fine." Azrael said, evenly without emotion. "And I didn't leave. You left me, remember? To take care of the Chosen One."

Exasperated, Michael gently rested his forehead against hers momentarily, his eyes closed. "I've missed you."

They stood still for the moment as Michael's emotions threatened to tear him apart. The fury that tightened his chest was at war with his need to pull her close. He knew that he had asked her not to reveal herself to the humans, to go to Helena, to play a part. How she ended up in New Delphi as a soldier was beyond him. What had happened to her all this time? And if she knew so much, why hadn't she reached out to him during all these years? He had long since lost track of her, worried about Alex and Vega. And Gabriel's nonsense.

"I didn't leave you, Azrael," he whispered, pained.

"I know."

"The Chosen One needed to be cared for."

She sighed, and then whispered, "And I thought I lost you. Again."

Michael opened his eyes and studied her for a moment. "And yet you found me. Somehow. Now. After all this time."

"I searched for you. No one knew where you had gone. After…" Azrael explained, breaking off only because she didn't know how else to explain her own fears.

The tall angel stared at her in that unnerving, unblinking way of his and then he abruptly yanked the curved blade from her hand and viciously threw it to the floor, his anger winning out. Spinning her around to face the wall, he shoved her against it and pinned her there as he roughly pulled her weapons from their holsters and sheaths and chucked them carelessly at the floor.

He unloaded, angrily, "But you come here as if you're going to WAR, Azrael!"

In his tirade, she hadn't made a move, but her own ire had been woken now. Enough! she thought as she threw back an elbow and was glad that it connected. Michael stumbled only for a moment, just enough time for Azrael to turn and defend herself. Only to have her Kevlar vest unceremoniously yanked off by an enraged Michael, leaving her with only her black shirt with red sigil across the chest.

Michael's fury had taken a deeper hold as he grabbed her roughly by the neck and leaned into her again, squeezing it and almost shaking her like a doll. His face was very close to hers, almost kissing distance, as he fiercely spat out, "And yet… what?" He searched her eyes, hoping to find something else. "You've come here now for what reason? You come here for war, Azrael?"

Azrael's panicked expression met his momentarily and then it was gone. She stilled, all the tension purposefully draining out of her. She didn't squirm or move, nor did she pull at his hand squeezing her neck; only her face betrayed some concern as she said quietly, "I heard about House Thorn. About what they were doing in Vega. Doing to our kind, Michael."

His eyes immediately closed tightly as the image of Becca's dead body flickered past and he felt suddenly overwhelmed by the grief of it all. The anger in him suddenly drained out and he came to himself again. Roughly letting go of Azrael, he stepped back and stumbled for a moment, standing in front of her, trying to regain some composure.

Azrael continued, "I was worried. For you."

Michael looked at her with such despair that it reminded her of all those years ago. Just like after the Flood when he was so distraught by what he had done. Azrael wanted to hold him then, as she did now.

He stumbled backwards a little more and then sat on the bed. "Who told you?"

"Does it matter?"

"So you thought I would slaughter all of Vega?" Michael stated, coldly and detached.

"No. I thought you were…" Azrael lost her voice just thinking about it. It had made her feel ill when she had heard about what they were doing in House Thorn. All she could think about was Michael and the possibilities of him being hurt or killed.

Michael looked stricken. "Experimented on, like Louis?"

Azrael cautiously moved closer to him. "I came here because I was frightened that I had lost you. That I may never see you again. Because we can sense each other no longer, I could not tell if you were…gone."

Standing in front of him, she stopped just shy of his legs, causing him to look up at her. The blank look that he gave her changed after a moment as she finally gave him a small smile, her own features softening.

"I've missed you too, Michael," she said as she gently touched his cheek and then cupped his face. He leaned into her hand for a moment, remembering her touch, remembering their friendship from so long ago, and remembering her kindness back then. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, leaning his head against her torso.

She ran her fingers through his tousled hair as he closed his eyes and gave into a moment of comfort.