Author's Note:

I have yet to see the extra footage that will be available on DVD for the US in two days (this footage was shown as part of the finale for the UK). From what I've read, that footage would probably impact my Noma/Alex storyline greatly as well as Alex's relationship with Gabriel. But since I haven't watched it, my idea for this story as a second season has now turned more into an alternate universe. But such is all fan fiction, so hope you can still enjoy it.

Apologies for such a long break between updates. Was distracted by NaNoWriMo.

Happy Holidays all! Enjoy!

~~**D**~~

Chapter 11: Turmoil

Sitting on the ledge of the windowless opening in the Space Needle, Michael's legs dangled off the edge as he watched over the abandoned city of Seattle. The clouds were roiling about and there was a threat of rain in the air. He was alone at the moment, feeling groggy and pensive after the previous night of drunkenness.

He closed his eyes, remembering vaguely how Azrael had run her fingers through his hair and embraced him, calming him for the moment. Michael felt mildly embarrassed that he had succumbed to his baser instincts, seeking her arms for some sort of respite from all that was plaguing his mind. She had taken him by the hands and encouraged him to lie down. And when he reached for the bottle of whiskey again, she had taken it away and placed it across the room, causing him to sigh in disappointment.

"You need a clear head, Michael."

He understood, of course, but hadn't wanted to comply. Being under the influence drowned out most of the anger and pain that seemed to have taken hold in his chest. Having made her point, Azrael had pulled him onto the bed and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close to her warm body. His head rested on her shoulder, his face close to her neck and his arm around her torso, legs wrapped around each other. It calmed him down as she continued to stroke his head, smoothing his hair back and running fingers down his cheek. Her touch made him relax as everything drained away. After a while, he had fallen asleep. For the first time in weeks, Michael was able to sleep through the night. Finally.

Only to wake to an empty bed.

Michael opened his eyes as he heard thunder off in the distance. The tumultuous sky was an apt reflection of how he was feeling at the moment. He wasn't sure where Azrael flew off to, but it was disconcerting to him. How had she found him and why? He would like to believe that her loyalty was still with him after all this time, but his bleary mind understood that she might have other plans. It had been many years since she went off into the Cradle. Since they had parted ways.

Originally, he had asked her to go and gather as many humans as possible, to save as many as she could and assist where it was warranted. He had suggested that she perhaps go to Helena and blend in as they organized their new settlement. Although the other higher angels often thought she was brutal and callous, he knew her in a different light. He had witnessed her unusual ability to slip in among the humans, emote as they do, push and pull here and there, pulling strings as if she were working her way through a chess game. Among their kind, she was usually in a state of detachment, often coming off as cold and alienating. He had told her before that it made the others uncomfortable. Azrael had shrugged him off in that nonchalant way of hers.

Michael had heard rumors of the Camp and then the newly-formed settlement, New Delphi sprung up. He had visited New Delphi from time to time, but the Camp always took too long to locate as it moved often. And Helena had been off limits to him over the years. Not surprisingly, they were not open to male angelic visitations. He always assumed Azrael was still doing her duty, keeping to the shadows and playing her game of chess, all in the efforts to help Michael and thwart Gabriel. Of course, he had missed her as time went by, but he wondered now if she had something else in store, or perhaps her loyalty had changed all together and she was no longer on his side.

All his dealings with the humans and Gabriel's rebellion had made him distrustful even of his most loyal allies. After Becca's actions, it was hard for him not to question everyone's motives. After Becca…

Oh, Becca, he thought. The archangel sighed and his shoulders slumped slightly.

Lightening crossed the sky and a few moments later more thunder echoed throughout the city. Michael stood up, still standing at the edge, glancing down at the long drop. It had been a few days since he'd flown. It would feel exhilarating with the danger of the incoming storm.

And then something strange happened. He felt a great pressure in his head and he could have sworn that he heard a voice whispering to him. Michael tried to shake the bizarre feeling of someone suddenly watching him. Taking a few steps back, he blinked to clear his abruptly blurring vision. A moment passed and his vision cleared, but he felt confused and disoriented. Something was incredibly wrong.

Stumbling back inside, his head started to hurt intensely with variable pangs of sharp pain, as if someone was smashing into his temples. Or as if someone was trying to hammer their way inside. Everything in his vision was tilting and bopping about, and he rapidly felt sick to his stomach as it threatened to rebel against him.

He clutched his head with both hands and moaned for a second. "What…" he gasped as the air in his lungs suddenly felt scarce. And then he stumbled away from the glassless window and closer to his bed.

"Let me in…" a voice whispered and reverberated through Michael's body.

Michael moaned in pain for a moment and then it occurred to him why he was in pain. He realized immediately what was happening.

Letting go of his head, he stood still, standing upright and as balanced as he could. Blinking for a moment, he kept his vision as still as possible, bracing himself as the hammering continued in his head. Michael steeled himself, trying to withstand the onslaught. He swallowed hard and then growled into the room, "NO!"

"Let me in… come on, brother…" Gabriel's voice was loud and coaxing, echoing through Michael's aching mind and causing the archangel to cringe.

Gripping his head again, Michael squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as he tried to concentrate on his mental defense. It felt as if someone was drilling into him and then the pain intensified as he continued to resist. Severe pain zinged through his body and radiated down his back. The pain was so much so that he staggered to his knees and his wings suddenly appeared, as if to protect him from the onslaught.

Breathing heavily, he tried to remain somewhat upright. Images of a grand hall where Gabriel must have been sitting at that very moment flickered through Michael's mind as he tried to gain control of the tenuous situation by shoving the connection back in the other direction. He could almost feel Gabriel gasp as he fought for control.

"NO!" Michael spat out loudly into the empty room, as if he could somehow counteract Gabriel's attempt with his voice alone. He tried to slow his breath and made the effort to put his wings away. Anger fueled his efforts as he continued to make his stand. The two brothers were locked in a mental power struggle and Michael felt like he was on the verge of throwing up everything he's ever eaten.

And then another image of the same room flickered past, only now Alex was standing in front of him, looking concerned. "Alex?" Michael whispered, feeling stunned suddenly. And then Michael felt a flash of Gabriel's own anger zing through him as Gabriel wrestled for control. Alex was saying something but Michael couldn't understand him. The image went dark for a moment and Michael sat there, gasping for air and blinking, trying to regain some semblance of himself.