(no subject)

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

Date: May 21st, slightly before sunrise
Location: Outside the manor
Status: Public (Uriel and Gabriel at first)
Summary: Uriel arrives

The problem with leaving anything on Uriel's table was that said table was never clean unless guests were coming over, and Uriel was rarely observant enough to notice another addition to the usual piles of books, papers and half-finished projects already cluttered there. Well over a week had passed since Gabriel had sent his letter before Uriel finally discovered it, tucked under a tray of withered seedlings. The moment he set his hand on the note, he knew it was from his brother; that either meant it had to be condolences or a Message. He wasn't ready for any more sympathy, however heart-felt, and the idea of a Message from Gabriel was almost terrifying. Had he done something wrong? Was he to be permanently cast from Heaven?

So he avoided the letter for another week, letting it sit on the table as he came and went, half-heartedly moving things about the house in an attempt to stay busy and keep his mind from straying to thoughts of Miss Jeanie. Not that he was very successful. Much of his free-time had been spent either mourning the loss of the woman he had begun to think of as a mother or, less frequently, in a temper over the brevity of human life and the fact that she had been taken from him so soon.

Eventually common sense overcame grief. How could Gabriel possibly know of Miss Jeanie's death? And, surely, if the message were something dire, Gabriel would have delivered it in person. Suddenly curious, he pulled the letter out again, unfolding it carefully as he curled up in a chair and began reading.

Once done, he folded it up again, thumb and forefinger idly rubbing over the fold while he considered the invitation. Though he wasn't quite certain who Adam Young was and why Gabriel felt the need to mention him, it sounded like a pleasant place and he did miss his brother something terrible. Perhaps a change of scenery would be best, a new start in a new location without constant reminders of what he had lost. Yes, that sounded like a wonderful idea.

Over the next few days he cleaned up his house, discarding what was no longer necessary, miracling away all the useful items to people that truly needed them. The books he took special care with, returning them from where he had borrowed them many months before, much to the joy of many a librarian and museum curator who had never been able to explain their absence. The garden... well, at least he wouldn't have to fight off the raccoons anymore and it probably wouldn't be too long before the kudzu reclaimed everything anyway.

When all was said and done, he stood outside in the twilight with nothing more than a slightly lumpy pack of personal items at his feet and the letter in his hand. Looking over the letter again, he frowned. Lower Tadfield. England. That would require flying, flying would take wings, and he had not considered the state of his wings since shortly before he had been exiled. Did not want to consider them now, but there was no avoiding the issue. Not if he wanted to see his brother. Sighing, he shouldered the pack and unfurled his wings. He didn't want to look at them, did not want to see exactly how badly damaged they were; as long as he could still fly, it didn't matter. He could deal with them later, if it even came up again. He stretched for a moment, flexing muscles long dis-used, testing the balance of his wings, then took to the sky.

It was slightly more difficult than he remembered, but he regained the hang of it quick enough. Shortly before sunrise he was drifting in tighter and tighter spirals over the English countryside as he neared his destination. Finally sighting the manor - almost as much by Gabriel's presence as by its physical location - he dropped quickly to the ground and folded his wings back, letting them fade from sight before anyone could catch a glimpse of them. Satisfied, he took a good look around, surprised by the size of the manor and the number of angelic presences therein. ...And were those demons he sensed? Gabriel had some explaining to do.

Comments

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

Gabriel was in the Manor grounds for his usual pre-dawn flight; he loved the calm beauty of that time of day, before the sun rose, and he loved watching it rise.

Spreading his huge blue-white wings, the Messenger prepared to take off, but paused and frowned; he could sense a familiar presence coming closer. A smile began to appear.

Uriel?

He had been walking near the back of the Manor; he moved towards the direction Uriel was in, picking up speed as he drew nearer. Rounding the Manor so that the entrance was in sight, Gabriel smiled at the sight of Uriel. There was a hint of relief to it; he had often been worried about the younger Archangel.

"Uriel!"

Running to his brother, Gabriel pulled him into a tight hug.

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

Uriel had a couple seconds to react - to drop his pack, to hold out his arms, to meet Gabriel half way, to do something. Instead he stayed exactly where he was, with an expression slightly reminiscent of a deer in headlights on his face while Gabriel pulled him into an embrace. After a moment or two he brought an arm up in an awkward half-hug, patting at his brother's back. Hugs were something he had never quite gotten used to.

"It is good to see you, Gabriel." That, at least, was completely heart-felt.

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

"It's good to see you too," Gabriel smiled, pulling back slightly as he sensed Uriel's discomfort. "I've been worried. How have you been?"

Uriel smiled back, but it was slightly forced, didn't quite reach his eyes. "I have been okay. Things are... Thank you for the invitation."

Gabriel scrutinised Uriel's face for a moment, noting the forced smile. "You're welcome. Do you want to come inside? We can talk over breakfast or something."

Uriel brightened at that. "That sounds good! Can I cook?"

Gabriel couldn't help but laugh at that. "I've never asked if we can cook; there's a restaurant I eat at. But I don't think that they would object. We'll ask them."

Still grinning, he entered the Manor and held the door open, waiting for Uriel.

"A restaurant?" Uriel asked, incredulous. The only hotels - motels, really - he was familiar with were run-down one or two-floor affairs with old beds and broken TVs and, if the kids were really lucky, maybe a tiny little swimming pool in the back.

Adjusting his pack - it was getting awfully heavy - he followed Gabriel. "What else do they have here?"


Gabriel began to walk towards the restaurant, wondering if it would even be open at this time. "There's a bar, a recreational room and a ballroom, though the ballroom has only been used once since I arrived if I recall correctly. And a library, which I'm in charge of. And the grounds, of course. We had a paintball fight once." He grinned at the memory. "I wish you could have seen us after it was over; we were all so colourful."

Noticing the adjustment out of the corner of his eye, Gabriel paused and held his hand out for Uriel's pack. "Would you like me to carry that?"

"A library?" He ignored everything else in favor of that word, lighting up like a kid on Christmas day. "Can I see?"

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

Gabriel laughed again. "Of course. Here, let me carry that." He reached towards Uriel's pack. "At least you're more enthusiastic about it than Michael or Raphael. It's upstairs."

"Raphael? Michael?!" Uriel blanched at that, drawing back. "Michael is here?"

Gabriel bit his lip, looking uncomfortable. "Yes. I should probably warn you that Raphael isn't in the best of states. And Michael is still recovering from some... injuries, so I'm keeping him in his room."

Uriel's knuckles went white from the force of his grip on his pack strap. "Michael? He would- He is going to- I cannot stay here, Gabriel." He looked as if he was moments away from bolting.

Gabriel touched his shoulder gently. He looks like a hunted animal. "Uriel, he will not hurt you. I give you my word," he said softly.

"But Michael is... I have been..." Uriel bowed his head, his hair sliding forward to hide his face. "I do not want to be Judged."

Sighing, Gabriel pulled him into another, gentler hug. "He won't Judge you. He misses you, I think, though you probably don't believe it."

Uriel didn't resist this time, though he did slouch in defeat. "I was not expecting this. I thought it would be..." he paused, trying to find words. "Quieter, at least."

"What would be quieter?" Gabriel blinked confusedly.

"More peaceful. Less stressful. Something of that sort." Uriel gestured vaguely.

A small smile tugged at Gabriel's lips. "It's peaceful now. Some time after I sent you that letter, there was... an ancient nightmare, of sorts. He was bringing everyone's nightmares to life."

He paused, one hand still on Uriel's shoulder. "I saw your corpse. I knew it wasn't real, but it certainly seemed so. The nightmare's been defeated and banished, so trust me, I consider the Manor peaceful now. For that one night, it was chaos."

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

Uriel winced. The last few weeks had seemed like a nightmare to him, but to lose Gabriel? He did not think himself capable of bearing the weight of that illusion. His mind swirled with questions - A nightmare? I thought you said it was safe here? Are you certain it will not come back? - but he discarded them all and instead tried to summon a small smile for his brother as he changed the subject. "Can we- where is the kitchen? Perhaps I can make breakfast? It would give me something to do."

Gabriel smiled back. "Of course. Come on." He turned back to the direction in which the restaurant lay.

Uriel followed him quietly, attention straying as he took in his surroundings. After everything he had heard in the last few minutes, he half expected some sort of nightmare1 to jump out from a darkened corner or empty room.


1 Or Michael. Same thing, really.

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

The restaurant door was closed, but Gabriel could see the staff moving about inside, setting things up. Knocking lightly, he spoke to the staff member who opened the door, and managed to obtain permission.

"Come on in," he smiled at Uriel, holding the door open for him. "What dishes do you have in mind?"

"Nothing in particular, just a simple breakfast. Pancakes. Eggs and hash browns. Maybe biscuits and gravy. Do you suppose they would have fresh fruit? French toast - which has never made sense to me because it certainly did not originate in France - omelettes - at least those are French - muffins, bacon, sausage..." Uriel continued to list foods, and it was hard to tell if he was offering suggestions or if he planned on cooking everything.

To Gabriel, a simple breakfast was his usual breakfast of coffee and a bowl of cereal or some toast. About once a week he treated himself to something like waffles or pancakes.

"Do you plan on cooking all of that?"

To Gabriel, a simple breakfast was his usual breakfast of coffee and a bowl of cereal or some toast. About once a week he treated himself to something like waffles or pancakes.

"Do you plan on cooking all of that?"

"No?" It was more question that reply, perhaps with a hint of embarrassment to it. "What would you suggest?"

Gabriel shrugged, amused. "Whatever you want."

Uriel considered Gabriel's reply for a long moment - he almost always cooked for other people, rarely bothering to do so for himself. "French toast? Perhaps with fresh fruit?" It was still a question, as if he were seeking approval.

Gabriel smiled. "That sounds nice. I should warn you that I'm a horrible cook, though, so the most I can do to help is pass you things."

"Perhaps I can teach you while I am here. Most things, especially breakfast, are not that difficult to cook once you have the hang of it."

Gabriel grimaced lightly. "Uriel, when I say 'horrible' I mean 'tends to result in minor explosions'."

Uriel stared at his brother for a moment, puzzled. "How is that even possible?"

Gabriel's cheeks began to turn pink as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I don't know. I really don't. I follow recipes to the letter and do everything as instructed and somehow something goes wrong."

Uriel cocked his head to the side. "How... odd. Perhaps I should do all the cooking and you can simply keep me company."

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

Gabriel grinned. "Sounds like a good plan. Let's start cooking-and-keeping-company, then. What are you going to make first?"

"French toast? I thought you told me not to make anything else."

"No, I said you can make whatever you want," Gabriel pointed out, handing him a loaf of bread. "Here. I don't think anything will blow up if I just pass you things."

Uriel took a moment to familiarize himself with the kitchen before taking the bread from his brother. Cooking at home was one thing, working in an industrial kitchen was another. Satisfied that he would be able to find everything he wanted and wouldn't be in anyone's way, he began to look for a place to set down his pack. "I would certainly hope not. I would hate to be tossed out before I even check in."

Gabriel laughed. "That's why I'm not helping. I'd like to have you around for a while, at least."

Uriel set his bag in an out of the way corner before heading toward the fridge for eggs and milk. Grabbing a bowl, he began whisking things together. "Nothing will spontaneously combust if I ask you to find some cinnamon and sugar, will it?"

"Nothing has so far," Gabriel grinned, looking around the huge countertop. "Ah, here's the sugar."

Some poking about in the larder yielded cinnamon powder, and he handed it to his brother.

"So far? I hope there isn't a first time for everything." Uriel's expression was stern as he accepted the cinnamon, but he quickly dropped the façade and broke out into a smile. He mixed cinnamon and sugar into the bowl without bothering to measure them out first, then moved everything next to a flattop grill.

"So..." He dipped a piece of bread into the egg mixture and laid it on the hot grill-top. "Besides the nightmares and things, how have you been?"

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

Gabriel bit his lip. "I came here hoping for a short break, and for a while it was lovely. I managed the library, adopted a couple of cats, met some interesting new people, and when Michael joined me, we had some fun together as well. The whole nightmare problem... complicated things with him, though. And then Raphael arrived." He sighed. "He isn't in the best of states, and I'm worried about him. Please don't ask him about his wings. How have things been for you?"

Uriel winced, not quite willing to talk about his own situation. Dancing around the question, he tilted his head to the side and stared at his brother. "His wings? And what do you mean by 'complicated'?"

"I mean that it has complicated our relationship." Gabriel wasn't willing to discuss his situation either; not just yet, anyway. "It's a long story. As for Raphael, he - he has been through a lot, and I suppose he was unable to cope. He cut off his own wings."

Uriel dropped the piece of bread he had been holding into the eggs. "He did WHAT? How do you... Is that even possible?"

"Trust me, it is," Gabriel sighed. "I should know, I'm the one who has to patch him up afterwards."

The bread gave one last, desperate burble from beneath its eggy coating, but Uriel remained unaware. Somewhere*, another piece of toast began to burn. "But WHY?"

* About a hands-breadth to his right, in fact.

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

Of course Uriel wouldn't have known. "He's been exiled," Gabriel said quietly. "And he has been stripped of most of his powers and Presence. He claims he is no longer an angel, and considered the wings his last link to who he was. And something's burning."

Uriel grabbed for a spatula and quickly scraped the piece of toast of the stove, turning it over carefully to survey the damage before frowning and discarding it in the trash. Sighing, he fished the soaked piece of toast out of the eggs and set it on a plate to drain before dumping more bread into the mix.

"Raphael too? Has our Father left anyone in Heaven?"

Gabriel squeezed his shoulder lightly. "Raphael lost hope too soon. Don't make the same mistake; have faith that this is not permanent. I have faith in you."

Shying away from the touch, Uriel began looking around for a baking dish. "It has been so long, Gabriel. I do not know if I have any faith left."

He pulled away completely, heading to the fridge to grab some butter.

Gabriel did not know what to say. He simply could not fathom this loss of faith; even during his own exile, after the initial pain, he had refused to let himself believe that it would be permanent. And it hadn't been. It was why he could not understand exactly how Raphael and Uriel felt.

"I apologise. Is there anything else you need?" He gestured to the cupboards.

Uriel had started doubting long before being cast out from Heaven. Having spent so much time so far from his Father had only served to reinforce those doubts and let new ones slip in.

"It is hardly your fault." He tried to summon a little smile for his brother, to set him at ease. "Do you think they have any nuts? Pecans, or perhaps walnuts? I think I might be able to salvage rest of this mess."

Gabriel nodded, rummaging in the pantry. "I found walnuts!" he announced, holding them up. "I don't think you're doing badly, though. It was only one burnt piece, wasn't it?"

He longed to help his brothers, but he did not know what to do.

Uriel smiled at Gabriel's enthusiasm, but it started to slip away at the reminder of the burnt toast. "I do not think I have ever burned anything before," he mused.

"I think I'm a walking culinary disaster even if I don't do anything," Gabriel grimaced. "I'm sorry."

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

"It was hardly your fault. I should know better than to turn my back on things in the kitchen."

"Especially if I'm around?" Gabriel grinned, trying to get Uriel to smile again.

Uriel did smile at that. "Especially if you are around." He turned to arrange the mostly-soaked bread in the pan, then headed for one of the ovens.

"This might take a bit. If you have something better to do, I understand." He spoke with some reluctance, sincerely hoping Gabriel would keep him company while the bread was baking.

Gabriel smiled back, noticing the reluctance. "I'll stay. Normally I just have breakfast and then check on the cats or go to the library early, after all. Besides, you've just arrived, and on my invitation too. I'd be a terrible host if I disappeared now."

"Thank you for staying, I do truly mean that, but it will probably be some time before this is done cooking. Is there a table or somewhere else we can go that is out of the way, but not too far from the kitchen?"

Gabriel peeked out of the kitchen. "There's a table fairly nearby."

Moving out towards the table, he pulled a chair out and looked at Uriel expectantly, hands resting lightly on the chair's back.

Uriel looked from Gabriel to the chair and back again. "I am capable of seating myself, you know. And I promise not to bolt. Unless I should smell something burning. Again." Despite the protests, he smiled as he moved toward the chair his brother had pulled out.

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

Gabriel smiled back. "I'll stay out of the kitchen. The food should be fine then."

He poured them both some water. "We can get you a room afterwards. Do you have any preferences regarding that? I mean, I would like to have you nearby but Michael's room is right next to mine, and we're keeping Raphael in there at the moment too so that we can keep an eye on him, so I understand if you'd prefer some privacy."

Frowning, Uriel considered his options. "I think I would prefer to stay as far out of Michael's way as is possible."

Gabriel nodded, biting his lip. "I understand. I was avoiding him for a short while, but... I couldn't. Not for long. Anyway, the rooms are nice enough, and if you like we can try to get you one that's near the library."

Uriel thought for a moment, trying to remember what little he had seen of the manor. "Are there any rooms on the ground floor? I would like to be able to come and go easily, without worries as to whether or not I might be disturbing anyone."

Gabriel shook his head. "Not on the ground floor, but there are rooms on the first floor. Raphael's room is on the first floor, though as I said, we're keeping him in Michael's room for now."

"Which room is closest to the doors? Is it available, do you know?" He toyed with his water glass somewhat nervously, subconsciously planning a route of escape should Michael suddenly decide to come looking for him.

Gabriel frowned as he noted the other angel's nervousness. "101, I suppose. We can always ask."

He reached out to touch Uriel's hand. "What's wrong, Uriel?"

Was someone after his brother?

Uriel stilled, glancing down at their hands before looking away. "Nothing, nothing. I like being outside in the sun. It reminds me of— it reminds me... I enjoy the warmth."

Ah.

Gabriel squeezed Uriel's hand lightly. "Raphael seems to like it when I let my halo or wings become visible."

Inwardly flinching away from the mention of halos and wings, Uriel summoned up a little smile for his brother as he tried to steer the conversation away from uncomfortable topics. "There is little better than the sun's light, the warmth and brightness of it. I think I could sit outside forever, would the sun shine down on me that long."

Something to be avoided then, unlike with Raphael.

Gabriel smiled as well. "I know. I'm not nearly as in love with the sun as you appear to be, but its warmth and light are indeed special and I love being outside. I like watching the sunrise."

It's almost, but not quite, like being in His Presence. Is that why you love it so?

If Gabriel had half a clue whose presence Uriel was subconsciously thinking of, he probably would not have been half so approving of their conversation.

"I cannot quite put it in words - in fact, sometimes I doubt the words for it even exist - but the sun is special to me somehow. It is always there and always reminds me of so many beginnings." He paused, pulling his glass closer, drawing wet circles on the tabletop as he considered something. "If they decide to never let me back in the kitchen again, do you think I could maybe stake out a small patch of earth as my own? For a little garden?"

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

"Why wouldn't they let you back in the kitchen? As for the garden, I think you would have to ask Ms Hodges, but it sounds like a lovely idea." Gabriel grinned warmly at his brother as he toyed with his napkin. "How long will the toast take, by the way?"

"Well," Uriel frowned. "I did burn something after being in there for less than ten minutes and I would imagine they would rather not have any repeat performances. At least it is slightly harder to destroy a garden in any truly spectacular fashion."

"As for the toast, it will still take a bit, but I suppose we should go check on it and I can add the walnuts."

"You could always blame me," Gabriel offered. "It wouldn't matter if I was banned, considering I never go in there anyway. Anyway, it is my fault, since I distracted you."

He stood up. "And I believe you mentioned fruit? I don't think anything will explode if I help you cut fruit."

Uriel looked slightly aghast at the suggestion. "It would be a deception at best, a lie at worst, and I could not live with myself if I let you take the blame for it. I should have known better than to let myself be distracted."

"Anyway, hopefully no one will say anything and it will not become an issue. Until then, less worrying and more cutting of fruit. If that ends up burning, I say we both flee the kitchen and never return."

"Well, I did distract you, and anyway I didn't think you'd take me seriously." Gabriel held his hands up, laughing at Uriel's last comment.

"Definitely."

"But you said- nevermind." The intricacies of exaggerated conversation were something he feared he would never quite understand.

Standing, he gestured toward the kitchen. "Shall we, then?"

"I was joking, Uriel, or at least exaggerating. You know I wouldn't lie." Still grinning at his brother, Gabriel stood as well.

Still confused, Uriel continued the conversation as they returned to the kitchen. "Why say it if you do not mean it? It seems terribly confusing."

Once back in the kitchen, Uriel quickly made a praline topping using the walnuts Gabriel had found earlier. Opening the oven, he checked over the bread before adding the topping and returning everything to bake a bit longer.

Gabriel frowned thoughtfully. "It's... simply a figure of speech. I never gave it too much thought. Generally people can guess whether or not I mean something."

He watched his brother's efficiency almost wistfully.

The smell wafting out of the oven was, well, divine - a tempting combination of cinnamon and nutmeg and caramelized praline that was more suited to dessert than breakfast. Uriel hardly seemed to notice as he cocked his head and considered Gabriel's response. "I am not certain I understand these figures of speech. For all that I understand the words, the language is a complicated thing."

Gabriel inhaled deeply, a small smile playing on his lips as he smelt the toast.

"It's not so hard to pick up," he murmured absently. "That smells wonderful."

"Cooking makes sense, people do not," Uriel mumbled to himself as he began searching through the fridge for suitable fruit.

Gabriel laughed. "Cooking doesn't make sense to me. What are you looking for?"

"But cooking is so easy," he protested as he stepped out of the fridge, a bowl of mixed berries in hand. "I was looking for fruit. Is there anything in particular you would like?"

"I'm not too fussy about fruit," Gabriel smiled. "Mixed berries will be fine. And I can't say the same about cooking; my attempts never end well."

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

Uriel matched his brother's smile. "Perhaps I should have you take care of all the conversing and I can stick to cooking. It would certainly make life easier for everyone. And mixed berries it shall be."

He returned to the oven to remove the bread, carefully moving the pan to the counter. He made quick work of slicing and plating the sinfully sweet concoction masquerading as French toast, lightly dusting everything with a coating of powdered sugar before spooning some berries on each plate. After taking a moment to tidy up after himself - returning supplies and leaving dirty dishes next to the sink - he grabbed the plates and motioned back toward the dining room.

"That seems to be the best solution, yes." Gabriel's eyebrows went up at the sight of the toast. "The toast looks... very nice, to say the least."

He quickly set out the cutlery and two glasses. "What would you like to drink?"

Uriel set the plates down on the table, fussing for a moment until he was happy with the placement. If Gabriel's plate seemed to have more food on it, that's because it did. "Thank you. I had to make some changes to the recipe, but I think it should be fine. And water, if you please."

Gabriel poured his brother a glass of warm water, then looked at his plate with some apprehension. "I'm not sure I can finish all that..."

Uriel looked at his own small portion which he had little intention of finishing anyway. "I apologize. Perhaps I should take my plate back for someone else and we can split your portion?"

"Good idea," Gabriel smiled. "I'm afraid I'm used to light breakfasts by now."

"I do not usually eat much either, but I grew used to cooking larger portions for everyone else, especially at breakfast." In an uncharacteristic gesture, Uriel waved his hand, instantly sending the extra plate back to the kitchen. He would much rather spend more time with his brother than try to explain yet another kitchen mishap, even if it were something as minor as an extra portion.

"Everyone else?" Gabriel asked curiously, pushing his plate into the middle of the table and unfolding a napkin.

Uriel went curiously still for a moment, his hand hovering over Gabriel's plate. After a moment, he drew his hand back, choosing instead to fuss with his own napkin. "You never did get a chance to meet my neighbors, did you?"

Gabriel watched him, wondering what was going on. "Unfortunately, no. I would like to, though if you would rather not have them meet me, I would understand."

Uriel dropped his head, mumbling to the table, "No. It is not- I did not mean- I cannot."

Gabriel rose, moving to Uriel's chair and wrapping an arm around his brother's shoulders. "What's wrong, Uriel?" he asked softly.

Uriel stiffened, unable to decide between drawing away from or sinking into the embrace. He worried at his napkin, at a loss for words.

Gabriel rubbed Uriel's shoulder gently, soothingly, trying to get him to relax. "I'm worried about you. Please tell me what's wrong?"

When he finally replied, it was barely more than a whisper. "She is gone, Gabriel."

Ah.

Gabriel himself had been close to various humans; he knew the pain of losing them, though perhaps not quite as much as Uri.

"She?" he echoded quietly.

"Miss Jeanie. She is- was-" His fingers went white from the force of his grip on the napkin. "I miss her so much."

Gabriel silently hugged his brother, one hand going up to stroke long red hair gently while the other rubbed his back.

Uriel silently pulled away from his brother, clearly uncomfortable with the contact.

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

Gabriel pulled back. "I apologise," he murmured. He stood there silently for a moment, not knowing what else to say or do, before returning to his seat.

He could see how much pain his brother was in, and he ached for him.

Uriel kept his head down, guilt creeping in to join pain as the silence stretched on. His voice was rough when he finally spoke, grief mixed with a touch of anger. "She meant so much to me."

"She sounds like a good woman," Gabriel said softly. "I wish I could have met her."

That finally made Uriel look up, his gaze cool and unblinking. "She was my mother." He said nothing more, but the unspoken "and He took her from me" hung in the air.

Gabriel held his gaze for a moment before dropping his eyes to the table. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I don't pretend to understand your loss, but I really am sorry." He didn't bother trying to defend Him, or attempting to console Uriel by saying he was sure that she was in Heaven now; Uriel was exiled, after all.

After a long moment, Uriel ran a hand over his face and sighed. "I suppose I should find a room to stay in, make sure my things are put away." Of the breakfast sitting untouched between them, he said nothing.

Gabriel bit his lip, waving towards the French toast. "Then your culinary efforts would be wasted."

Uriel frowned at the toast. "You can have it, if you like. I am not particularly hungry."

The awkwardness hanging between them now was nearly tangible, and Gabriel shifted uncomfortably. After a moment, he carefully wrapped the toast in a napkin.

"I'll help you get a room first."

Uriel rose slowly, almost as if it pained him to do so. "I am sorry, my apologies. I should not have..." He trailed off awkwardly.

After a long pause he looked up, reaching a hand out to his brother, fingers settling ever so lightly against Gabriel's arm. "Thank you. For everything."

Gabriel wished he could hug his brother, hold him and soothe the pain, but he knew that Uriel would likely rather not be hugged. He smiled instead.

"Come on."

Offering a tentative smile in return, Uriel pulled his hand back and gestured for Gabriel to lead the way. "After you," he said, reaching for his bag.

Gabriel waited at the restaurant entrance, holding the door open.

Uriel followed his brother quietly, largely lost in his own thoughts. After a moment, he remembered something that had been bothering him almost since he had arrived.

"Gabriel? Who - and what - else is staying here?"

"Er." Gabriel glanced out across the lobby, trying to remember the rest of the guests. "You know Michael and Raphael are here. Aziraphael, the Principality of Europe, is here as well, as are Belial and a couple of lesser demons. There are also a few of the old gods, like the Norse god Loki. And some humans, like Joe the barman, and Immortals - as the name suggests, they're basically immortal humans unless they're decapitated."

He paused. "And Jarod. The Saviour."

Uriel blanched a bit at the mention of demons and old gods, but fear and distrust quickly segued into confusion at the last name. "The Saviour?"

"His Son," Gabriel answered quietly. "The Second Coming."

Uriel stopped suddenly, going still in the middle of the lobby. When he spoke, his voice was hushed, barely more than a whisper. "Second Coming? What have I missed? Is this- Is it Armageddon?"

He did not want to fight, would not fight, would refuse to pick a side.

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

Gabriel's reply was not much louder. "I don't know. I think so. We've already had one false alarm. Adam doesn't want the world to end, but Michael is trying to persuade him otherwise. And with Jarod and Adam here..."

His eyes were closed. "I don't want the world to end, but..." He would not go against the Plan.

Uriel frowned but bit his tongue instead of speaking his mind about Michael. Instead, he focused on something else Gabriel had said. "Adam? Who is he?"

Gabriel opened his eyes. It's not happening right now. Stop being silly. "Adam? He's the Antichrist," he answered.

"The Antichrist!?" Though Uriel was still speaking barely above a whisper, his voice was none-the-less frantic. "This place is run by the Antichrist?"

Gabriel nodded. "Well, yes. But he didn't want to be. He stopped Armageddon the last time, and he doesn't want a repeat. I've met him; he seems nice enough. And it's his rule that the inhabitants of this place refrain from any actions that may cause harm."

Uriel stared at his brother, idly wondering if Gabriel was speaking in some strange, new language that he did not understand. "He stopped Armageddon? Last time? You mean this has happened more than once?"

A room would be nice about now. Some place quiet and safe where he could collapse by himself and ponder exactly when the world had decided to turn its self inside out.

"Er." Surely Uriel hadn't been completely ignorant of it?

"It was in 1990. It was supposed to be Armageddon, but there was some sort of mix-up, and then Adam simply decided he didn't want the world to end."

"Oh." That was it. No further comments, no elaboration. If there was anything else to be said, he couldn't think of it at the moment.

Gabriel touched Uriel's shoulder lightly. "I'm sorry. I thought you knew and had chosen to stay out of it."

Uriel shook his head in denial. "It seems much has happened in my absence." He smiled a bit sadly, refusing to admit he would not have fought even if he had been there.

Gabriel squeezed his shoulder lightly. "You're here now. And everything still depends on Adam."

"I hope he- I hope..." Uriel trailed off, not quite certain what he was wishing for. "Will it all come down to hope?"

"Perhaps," Gabriel answered. "Hold on to it. I am."

Uriel had precious little hope left, but what did remain, he clutched tightly to his heart. "I will."

Gabriel smiled at him and moved towards the desk.

Rose looked up at Gabriel from her position behind the desk and smiled at him and the stranger with him.

"Hello Gabriel. Is your companion a new guest?"

"Hello, Rose," Gabriel smiled. "Yes, he is. This is my brother Uriel. We were wondering if Room 101 was free?"

Rose smiled at the newcomer.

"Hello Uriel and welcome to Lower Tadfield. My name is Rose Heerkens and I work here. Would you please fill in this form to check in?"

Then she checked the documents and turned back to Gabriel.

"Yes, Room 101 is free. Do you want to show your brother upstairs or should I accompany you? And will you explain about the door sign for people who want their room cleaned or should I?"

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

"Thank you, Rose," Uriel spoke softly as he accepted the paper from her. He scanned over it quickly, then shot Gabriel a questioning glance.

Gabriel noted the glance. "We qualify as having supernatural abilities, which means you don't need to pay for accommodation as long as you abide by the rules." He pointed to the small text at the bottom of the form. "I suppose he wants to keep track of all the guests."

Turning back to Rose, he smiled. "I'll show him upstairs, thank you, but maybe you can explain the door sign to him now."

Rose nodded to Gabriel and turned back to Uriel.

"Some of our guests value their privacy very much so we don't just enter occupied rooms. In every room there's a sign on the door handle. One side is the usual 'Do not disturb' that you find in almost every hotel, the other side has a few icons on it and is for when you want your room cleaned. You just put the sign on the door handle on the outside and when I'm finished cleaning I put it back on the door handle on the inside.

Of course you can just miracle your room clean if you don't want a stranger there..."

Uriel still found it a bit odd to not hide who - and what - he was, but Gabriel seemed to find nothing amiss with the questions on the form, so Uriel dutifully filled it out as Rose began to speak. Signing it with an intricate sigil rather than plain script, he slide it back across the desk toward her.

He cocked his head to the side as she finished speaking, considering her words for a moment. "Why would I need someone to clean my room? I am quite capable of doing it myself and would have to impose upon someone else."

Rose took the form, checked that Uriel didn't miss any necessary fields and then filed the form away before she concentrated on him again.

"Well, it's just a service we offer. Some people prefer not to clean their room themselves when they're at a hotel. You don't have to take us up on the offer. As long as you don't put that sign on your door handle nobody will enter your room uninvited and nobody will clean there."

Uriel nodded, smiling lightly. "As long as no one objects, I think I would prefer to clean my own room. I promise not to let things pile up too much."

Not that anyone would believe him if they had seen the cluttered mess he had lived in before, but he truly did mean well.

Gabriel generally left the "Do not disturb" sign on his door and kept it clean himself; he didn't want to make Rose deal with the cat hair, for one.

"Thank you, Rose." He smiled, wondering if she had eaten; it was rather early, after all, and the restaurant hadn't even been open yet. Remembering the napkin-wrapped bundle in his hand - it was still warm, because he expected it to be - he unwrapped the toast and proffered it to Rose. "By the way, would you like some toast? Uriel made it."

Rose nodded at Uriel's decision and then smiled at Gabriel.

"You're welcome."

Her nose had already caught the scent emanating from the napkin and had told her that there was no meat inside. She hadn't had breakfast yet, but the scent from the napkin most surely didn't make her mouth water.

"Thank you for your generous offer, Gabriel, but I'm not hungry."

Rose smiled up at him and hoped the half-lie - she was hungry, but not for the contents of that napkin - wasn't discernible.

[safehouse-guest.livejournal.com]

"You're sure?" Gabriel smiled back, wrapping it up again. He turned back to his brother, holding his hand out for Uriel's bag.

"I'm sure, thank you."

Rose got up from her chair and went to the board with the key, taking down the one for room 101. Then she went back to her desk and held out the key to Uriel.

"Here, the key to your room, sir."

Smiling gently, Uriel took the key from her. "Thank you Rose, but, please, call me Uriel. 'Sir' is far too formal and is not a title I have earned."

He turned to Gabriel and stared at his outstretched hand in mute confusion for a moment. Finally figuring out what Gabriel wanted, he pulled his pack a little bit closer. "I can carry it, I promise. I will not break under the weight of one bag. But if you would, please, lead the way." He smiled, hoping his brother wouldn't find offense in his words.

Gabriel nodded with a smile, clearly not offended, and turned to lead the way to 101.

Rose smiled at the new guest.

"Alright, Uriel. I hope you enjoy your stay here."

"Thank you. I can only hope the same." With that, Uriel turned to follow Gabriel to his new room.

Gabriel led his brother up a flight of stairs, turned to 101 and opened the door before standing aside, motioning Uriel in.