Alright, fine. If no one else is going to be bothered, then Gabriel will take up the torch, so to speak. So... he does just that, deciding to wrap his arms around Lucifer in a tight hug. He recognized that it could be an inadvisable move, but he also recognized that he didn't care much. His heart was too heavy. " ... I owe you one, " he explained before any questions could possibly be raised. " I would've asked first, but I feel like poetic justice would've kicked me in the ass on that one. So... "
to say this was a shock to the system would have been an understatement. lucifer went stiff as a board the instant arms wrapped themselves around his middle, ready for the- what he believed to be -inevitable pain to blossom in his back. such was what he deserved, frankly, after having let his guard down enough to allow the younger this close this suddenly. and who better to do it, too, than someone he’d already tried to kill.
that night at the hotel came flooding back like a tsunami. unwanted and unbidden and so very, very awful.
“ you know, i never understood you pagans. you’re such... petty little things. ” oh, how the little sparkle of fear twinkled in mercury‘s eyes fed the fire in the devils belly. he so loved it when the insects realized their mistakes. he loved watching the gears turn in their heads, the pieces fall into place, the ‘ oh, shit ’ moment. he loved watching this sad excuse for a god telling itself ‘ this was a mistake. i’m going to die. i thought i would be spared but i will not. ’. it gave him the warm and fuzzes. “ always fighting. always happy to sell out your own kind. no wonder you forfeited this planet to us. ” he’d pointed at the ‘ god ’ behind the desk. “ you are worse than humans. you’re worse than demons. and yet you claim to be gods. ” and just like the, the roman god of messengers dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. all the others followed quickly there-after. at least, until he’d gotten to that fiery little number. then it all went to hell.
why did he have to be there? of all the beings in this world, of all his brothers, why did it have to be gabriel.
“ so you’re willing to do die, ” no. wrong. the words coming out of his mouth felt so wrong. “ for a pile of cock-roaches? ” well, those felt right. “ why? ”
“ because dad was right. ” don’t say that. not you. anyone but you. michael, raphael, but not you. “ they are better than us. ”
“ they are broken, flawed, abortions- ”
“ damn right they’re flawed. ” that’s his thinking face just then. human meatsuit in the shape of a pagan worm or a wave of celestial intent, he knows how to read his baby brother. “ but a lot of them try. to do better. to forgive. ” lucifer couldn’t look at him anymore- eyes turn down to the floor lest his heartache overflow from his mouth. “ forgive what?! ” he’d wanted to scream at the top of incorporeal lungs. “ forgive who?! michael?! father?! you?! you, who neither helped throw me in the cage nor stood by my side, but ran away, turning your back on us- on me! ”
“ and you should see the spearmint rhino. ” moment over. ice-cold gaze found his brother again. “ i’ve been riding the pine a long time, but i’m in the game now. and i’m not on your side or michaels. i’m on theirs. ”
lucifer closed his eyes, head shaking slowly, mind far off in a better place, a better place, a happier time. “ brother, ” his voice was soft. pleading. begging. he was crying. “ don’t make me do this. ”
“ no one makes us do anything. ” lucifer deflates and he knows his brother is lost to him. knows there’s no more point in trying. gabriel has become tainted by the filth that is humanity and its sins and its darkness. he knows this. but that’s not going to make what comes next hurt any less. won’t make it any easier. ruined and twisted as he may be, this is still his baby brother. the youngest of the four princes, light on his feet and with a wit sharp as any thrown long before roses came into being.
“ i know you think you’re doing the right thing, gabriel. ” so had he, once upon a time. this would be a much more merciful fate than what he’d been given. “ but i know where your heart, truly lies. ” lucifer steels himself. this is the oldest trick in the book. the blade is raised behind his back, poised to strike him down. but, while gabriel was always so very quick, as one must to be the messenger of god, lucifer still had him beat. he’d twisted on the balls of his feet, arms reaching up, hands grabbing and pulling down with all his might. the blade sunk into gabriels vessel like a hot knife through butter. it made him sick to his stomach. the sound, the look on his brothers face, the blood seeping through gabriels clothes and onto his fingers, dripping down his forearms. “ here. ”
a glance over his shoulder to watch the visage of the younger fade away. gaze returns to what he believed to be the real thing. his eyes held no softness anymore. no chance for forgiveness. it had been one thing to run, to turn tail and hide in the shadows. it was a whole other to raise his blade against his older brother. “ armature hocus-pocus. ” his head was shaking, disbelieving what he was seeing. what he was doing. what he’d done. who he’d become. “ don’t forget- ” voice caught in his throat as he stared gabriel in the eyes. how are he express such betrayal in his tears. “ you learned all your tricks from me, little brother. ”
he twists the blade, lips curling into a snarl. he does not blink from the light exploding from gabriels eyes and mouth. he must watch, must be witness to what he’s done. what the other made him do. his hand had been forced, but it was still his hand. he pushed the body to the floor.
when the light faded, the anger went with it to a point. in its place came waves of sorrow and heartbreak and, maybe, just a touch of guilt. a breath he’d been holding blew from his mouth in a rush. he sucked in another, exhaled, inhaled, backed away, blinking the tears from his eyes. yea, there was more than just a touch of guilt. he stared down at the imprint of wings spread out over the floor and one table, of the halo scorched into the other.
he was no better than michael. he’s worse, really. the realization settles into his mind like a cloud, dark and stormy and cold. he hates it so, so much.
taring his gaze up and away, he stared past the ceiling of the hotel, tears steaming freely down his face, teeth bared in rage. “ this is what you made me into! ” lucifer screamed to the heavens. to michael, and to their father. “ you made me do this! you- he- he gave me no choice! ”
unneeded lungs take in a sharp, painful breath. no pain flared in his back. nothing split his flesh. there were only hands and arms and a body against his front. blue hues blink a few times, bringing the present back into focus. the look down to a nest of soft brown hair slicked back from the face against his chest. lucifer doesn’t know how long he’s stood there, ramrod straight, prepared to die. when he comes to terms with the fact that he’s not, the floodgates open.
bending down just a touch, the morningstars own arms come up to grab desperately a gabriels shoulders, hands clutching the youngers clothes as though for dear life. as though the other would fade away into thin air should he let go. a sob racked his body. it’s harsh and ragged and ancient. head bows down into the crook of gabriels neck as ethereal wings manifest from his shoulder blades, white as a freshly fallen snow in the dead of winter. they close around their bodies, grace rolling off them like a waterfall at the end of a raging river. it washes over the two of them with a force that pushes lucifer deeper into his brothers embrace. it surrounds them, cold and sad and desperate and so, so sorry- another sob gouges its way through his chest and throat. arms tighten their grip, wings pressing in close, both shaking.
he wasn’t owed this. didn’t deserve it, frankly, but he’d take it. he’d take it all, even if it had come with a knife in his back.
