Category: Darksiders I & II
Rating: M
Couples: Azrael/War, Strife/Caim
Warnings: AU, Yaoi, Lemon, Mpreg
Chapter: 17
Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me and Food-for-mind
Author's Note: Sequel to Angel of War
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Caim replaced his healer around midnight to stand vigil over the prone lying Horseman. It had been several days and Death had driven the healers to exhaustion. Sitting beside the bed, he glanced at Strife when suddenly his vision became blurry. He hesitantly took the nearest hand and held it tightly. Leaning his head forward, he whispered: "Please come back..."
Strife's hand trembled, fingers twitching weakly.
Feeling the slight twitch, Caim felt hope flooding his body. He held the hand against his cheek, tears flowing down. "Strife? Please come back, your brethren need you. I need you." It was hard to see clearly due to his tears.
The Rider weakly moaned, fingers twitching again when feeling the tears of the angel. His entire body hurt and he felt so weak. "Ca...?" He croaked, throat dry and painful.
Shushing the Rider, the Commander gently stroked Strife's head while still holding his hand. "I'm here, no need to talk."
Strife smiled weakly, leaning into the stroking of the angel. "Gir...?" He coughed, his throat really wanting him to obey the angel. But he had to know, had to know whether they were okay or in a state like him.
Helping the Rider to drink some water, Caim answered his half-spoken question: "The girls are alright. Shaken, but not even a scratch upon them. They were worried about you, just like everybody else."
Though he relaxed in relief at both the drink and the news that the girls were unharmed, Strife snorted at the 'everybody'. His siblings surely were not among those... He had made certain of that.
As if he could read that thought, Caim smiled at him weakly. "Especially your siblings. Azrael kind of told them about your true feelings." He cringed at the memory of his brother yelling at the Horsemen, fuelled by War's Wrath. A sight he doesn't want to experience again. "They feel very guilty about it. And they know about 'The Deal'."
"They... weren't... suppo..." Strife blinked, first in surprise then horror. The angel had told them!? Creator-damnit! He coughed again. "Supposed to know..." Why did Azrael tell them? There was a reason why he kept all that hidden!
"Azrael couldn't stand it anymore. And besides, The Charred Council doesn't exist anymore." Still stroking the black-haired Rider, the Fallen continued softly. "It is your burden no more."
The Gunner sighed softly, deciding that it could wait for now. Instead he weakly raised his hand, touching the wet trails on the other's face. "You... cried..." He followed them up to cup the face. "For me?"
The angel took some shuddering breaths. "Of course, you damn Nephilim. After learning…" He fell silent, gathering himself for the next couple of sentences, shaking his head to clear it. "I... I am sorry for yelling at you. I..."
Strife moved his thumb to the angel's lips, silencing him. He hoped that his eyes could convey what his throat – hurting like Hell again – could not: it was okay, there was nothing that needed forgiveness.
Caim nodded, understanding what Strife wanted to convey. Carefully removing the hand from his face, he held it between his hands. "There is something else..." By the Creator, why is this difficult!
Strife tilted his head questioningly, wondering why it seemed that the angel felt... awkward? Well, that had been a while at least.
Looking down at the hands, Caim whispered. "I would like to get to know the real you… all of it." Eyes downcast, he began to play with the fingers between his own.
Strife blinked, then blinked again. He did that a lot today... "All...?" He echoed, tugging at the hands holding his when it seemed like the angel had not heard him.
With a sigh, the angel looked up, feeling surprisingly tense. "All of it." The black raven wings twitched in agitation. "I know we had an agreement about our escapades and your tastes. But I... You deserve better than me just… being too chicken…"
Carefully shifting so the Rider could reach the other's collar with his free hand, he pulled at the fabric to bring the head closer to his... and kissed the angel.
The kiss certainly shut up the Fallen, however after the initial shock was over, he returned the kiss. He later gently pulled himself back and stared at the Rider. "Strife?"
Having a sore throat at this moment was really unhelpful. "Better prepare yourself then." He growled with a rough voice, not letting go of the collar. His eyes burned in the gloom of the room they were in, fixed on the pearly eyes of the angel.
Caim blinked at the feral growl, he then laughed softly. He leaned against the Horseman, making sure he didn't hurt him. "Of course."
Strife grinned lightly, kissing him again. "I'll look forward to that..." He added softly, reclining back onto the bed with a hiss of pain. Fucking Hell, he was going to murder people for this... once he could move.
Helping Strife to get more comfortable in bed, Azrael's brother returned the gesture. "Try to rest, we can talk more later." He moved to return back to his chair to continue his vigil over Strife.
But Strife would not let him, pulling at the other. "Join?" He croaked weakly, patting the space beside him. He wanted someone close right now.
Carefully so he wouldn't cause Strife any more pain, the Fallen joined him hesitantly. Both of his wings folded behind his back, he moved as close as he dared. "Go back to sleep. I'll be here till you wake up."
Strife smiled weakly at the angel. Closing his eyes, he leaned against the Fallen, drifting off into some much needed sleep.