lt_safe_house | Gabriel contemplates

Time: May 20th, night
Place: Gabriel's room
Status: Private (Gabriel and Raphael) - Complete
Summary: Gabriel thinks about Michael.

Gabriel changed the cats' litter tray and refilled their water dish and kibble before going into his bathroom. He could sense Raphael's faint but peaceful aura on the other side and silently thanked the Lord that thus far, everything seemed fine. At least Raphael seemed to be taking the first steps towards healing, even if he wasn't fully Restored yet.

As he stripped off his clothes and stepped under the showerhead, he thought about Raphael's reasons for keeping the cursed blade and hurting himself with it, and shook his head. Yes, Primoris's nightmares had been vivid - he could still remember how it felt to be completely drained of the Presence, to have dark wings, to watch as Lucifer impaled Michael to the wall, pinning him up in a cruciform position - but Gabriel simply could not follow his little brother's logic. How could hurting himself with a blade ensure that Gabriel wouldn't be killed? It wasn't even as though Gabriel was in immediate danger; as far as he knew, there were no demons hunting him in particular. And besides, he could certainly take care of himself.

Still, it wasn't as though Gabriel himself wasn't guilty of trying not to let his nightmares come true. Oh, he still spent time with Michael - ignoring the Warrior was simply impossible, he was too much a part of Gabriel – but he missed the closeness they had enjoyed once. Sighing, he turned the knob and closed his eyes as hot water pummelled bare skin.

A clear memory of Michael impaled to the wall, spitting blood at Lucifer, suddenly came to him, and he shuddered despite the heat.

"Don't, Michael," Gabriel manages to say. "It's not worth it. Please don't. He'll kill you."

And despite all the blood and pain, Michael gives him his best cocky grin. "Run, Gabriel, and it'll be worth it.”

The sheer pain of seeing Michael like that, at Lucifer’s mercy, more blood on the floor than in his body; the pain of watching Michael force himself to face Lucifer, for Gabriel’s sake…

And later, as he makes his way to the Dreaming to ask for the Dream Lord’s help, he encounters a darker Michael, a Fallen Michael, and as Gabriel stabs him it feels like he’s stabbing himself…

Gabriel wrapped his arms around himself and forced himself to stop thinking about that night. It’s over.

He found himself remembering the talk with Michael he’d had a few days afterwards, though.

"G' 'way 'n' come back when you figure out what the crap y're feelin', Gabe. It's one thing t' say y' not in love, it's another to say it when y' pretty much are."

He bit his lip. I’m not in love. But even as he thought it, something twisted in his stomach. Some angel of truth I am.

Gabriel could still remember the shared dream in which Michael had kissed him, as vividly as if it had been this morning, and shuddered again as the stream of hot water began to wash away the soap. He had tried to forget the kiss, branding it Lust, but he simply couldn’t.

He turned the shower off and stood there for a moment. It simply couldn’t be avoided any longer; Michael was more than a mere friend to him.

Gabriel clenched his fists, leaning against the cool white tiles. He didn’t know what he felt for Michael, but it was more than friendship. Groaning, he let his head thud against the wall. Oh, he’d always known Michael was attractive, but had never really thought much about it until now.

What am I supposed to do?

This… attraction would pass, surely, and then they could return to the way things had been. As much as was possible, anyway, despite the knowledge that Michael loved him.

Gabriel shook his head slightly as he dried himself; he still didn’t understand why. Couldn’t you have chosen someone who doesn’t worry about Falling every day? I don’t want to hurt you, Michael.

He quickly dressed and left the bathroom, smiling at the sight of Raphael curled up on the bed. Gabriel didn’t know what to do about himself and Michael, but at least he could try to help Raphael.

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Raphael shifted a little on the covers when he saw Gabriel emerge, brown eyes shining. His cheeks colored a little. "I couldn't sleep," he admitted sheepishly, showing him the results of his restlessness- a rather tangled bedsheet. Normally he'd have written in a journal, but with it gone and him never wanting to see that retched thing again or the pages within it, he had resolved to his next nervous tic... trying to turn anything close by into Origami.

And thus, the bedside table was now covered in an array of paper creatures. One of his cats now sported a rather interesting Origami hat.

Hopefully Gabriel hadn't needed that hotel notepad, he'd used it all.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at the sight of Earl Grey sporting a paper hat; the little grey cat looked adorably confused. Ta-Miu, meanwhile, was nowhere to be seen - she had probably slipped out of the window for some nocturnal exploration.

He climbed into bed, wrapping his arms around his brother. "Any particular reason why?"

Raphael snuggled against his chest. "Nothing. Everything. Just... wondering how this could all fit into Father's Will." His expression is sad. "I've hurt so many people, Gabriel... I've hurt those I love. I want to hold onto that Faith but I feel like Father broke trust. I trusted Him. I trusted Him and He hurt me."

"He's testing you," Gabriel corrected. "Father breaks trust with noone. It's us who break trust with Him. You've seen Him, Raphael. You've stood in His Presence. How can you doubt the magnitude of His Will?"

"I watched someone take their own life, Gabriel..." He clenched his eyes shut. "I watched you punish the Grigori and I should have been punished too. I watched... I watched Hadassah manipulate my powers to destroy. He said He forgave me but clearly He didn't if He sent that Hellbeast." He stopped abruptly, they'd been over this too many times already.

"I feel that I've lost Him," Raphael's voice was hardly above a whisper. "I see what became of you after Lucifer Fell, how you don't allow yourself to be loved by someone who deeply loves you. I think I just need to accept that I will always bear this scar, just as you do yours." He trembles a little, curling further into his brother.

Gabriel stiffened. "If you're talking about Michael, I... he could have someone not 'scarred' as you put it. Father loves you, Raphael, and that's different from my situation. Perhaps He's testing your faith in and love for Him. That's how you prove yourself. I have faith that you'll recover one day."

"What if I don't? What if I get worse?" The thought is enough to make him visibly shake in his brother's arms and he clings to him as if that could quell the tremors. "What if... What if you're not there one day and I..."

He stopped. He couldn't let the shadows take him that far. He couldn't!

"So uhm... Yeah that's why I'm having trouble sleeping," he said sadly. "Usually I have my journal to write all this stuff in, see..."

Gabriel said nothing for a moment. Then he unfurled his wings, arching them around himself and his brother; not touching Raphael, but close enough that he could probably smell the scent of jasmine and sandalwood.

"I think you have a choice. Choose to believe. And I'll be there for you. That's a promise." He began to rock Raphael, gently.

Wings... So fragile and delicate and yet capable of comforting his bleeding heart. He closed his eyes, senses filled with the scent of sandalwood and jasmine and the rustle of feathers that seemed to be his only connection, his only reminder of home. He buried his face in his brother's chest, a tiny child-like whimper escaping.

There was something about being gently rocked and he closed his eyes, feeling safe despite the shadows always ready to pounce.

At the sound of the whimper, Gabriel held Raphael tighter and began to stroke his hair, still rocking him.

"Try to sleep," he murmured, letting his halo glow very softly.

"I can't. Too much..." his voice trails off when he feels the halo and he remembers Venice and the church and everything he had felt there.

"You are the Healer of God! One of the Seven who stand before the Throne!"

He snuggled further into his arms, senses filled with fluttering wings and the gentle rocking. He was well-aware he probably looked like a small cherub but he didn't care. "I love you, Gabriel," he whispered.

He sank into unconsciousness, breathing slow and rhythmatic.

Gabriel kissed the top of Raphael's head. "I love you too."

Shifting minutely so that he wouldn't wake his sleeping brother, he leaned against the headboard and closed his eyes.

Gabriel contemplates

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