neutral_omens | (no subject)

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Date: December 26, 1999
Setting: The Lobby
Status: Public (Complete)
Summary: Raphael brings home a slightly odd pet.

For having met with a man who experimented with the demonic, was constantly on morphine and tended to smell like death in general, Raphael felt that their meeting hadn't gone too badly. There had been tea and cookies and a tree even. Faust VIII was a strange doctor, but a doctor at heart who (though extremely unorthodox) did tend to work towards a somewhat mutual goal. And deep down, Raphael felt that he was, at his core, a rather decent man whom he'd missed more than he cared to admit.

Dr. Strange had been right to suggest patching things up.

He had not anticipated, however, Faust's insistence upon giving him a 'Christmas gift' beyond his hospitality - no pun intended. When Raphael intimated his concerns about the tensions surrounding him, Faust insisted upon giving him a 'companion' to help look after the ward, deliver messages, guard what needed watching and serve as a supernatural companion.

Raphael looked down at the necromanced bone dog in his arms and sighed. He really couldn't have refused...

Then the dog began barking.

"Be quiet Frankensteiny," Raphael said, shushing him and walking towards his quarters as quickly as possible. "I don't want anyone knowing you're here before they have to..."

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"Sometimes, Uriel," he said tersely, "There are reasons that we do not own to feelings or even allow ourselves to feel. It is not our place; and regardless of whether you disagree with me or not, I have no interest into falling into such a temptaion.

After all, feelings are chaotic. Give them free rein and who knows what might transpire?"

He looked straight ahead.

"And I don't care if any condescending bastards think I'm a coward for hesitating."

Crowley watched the interaction between the two angels and sighed.

"Yeah, I'm a bastard, Raphael, but I'm only trying to help. I've only ever been trying to help. Maybe I'm not going about it the right way - it's not like I have a lot of experience - but believe it or not I have no interest in being cruel to you just for the sake of it."

He looked away for a moment, took a deep breath, and continued.

"It took me five thousand years to recognize my feelings for what they were. Then it took another thousand and a couple of really dangerous situations before I'd admit them to myself or act on them. I've wasted a lot of time when I could have been happy. And I've learned that it's not about what you're supposed to do. It's about what you can't help but do. I... I just don't want you or anyone else to make the same mistake."

Raphael's attention shifted to the demon.

"Help me? Don't make me laugh. You are a demon; your purpose is cruelty. And why would I believe someone who serves a being with the title of Prince of Lies? You aren't to be trusted."

He paused and looked down at Frankie, petting him softly.

"And you don't know that feeling wouldn't be the mistake. Or that acting on something might make me happy. That allowing myself to become more emotional would be a good thing.

What do you know of what I might be like?" His hand on Frankie's head trembled. "Nothing. You know nothing. But I do. I've seen what happens to doctors who feel too much and go to far.

You - and I - and others might very well regret it."

Crowley shrugged defensively.

"Believe what you want. Angels always do, rather than observe and think for themselves, the idiots. But you sure as hell aren't happy now. What do you have to lose?"

He turned to leave.

"I am NOT an idiot!" He shouted at the demon indignantly. "And I'm happy. Very happy, as happy as I've any right to be."

He swallowed.

"I have everything to lose. The Presence. Comfort. Familiarity. Friendship. For what? Some vague promise that if I'm physically sexual I'm going to be happy?

The truth is that I might be miserable if I try. Once you ruin the peace of not knowing you can't get it back. In fact, I seem to remember you promising a certain female that she would be happier if she just tried what you suggested. Remember that? Was she happier?

I have no guarantees that this wouldn't be the exact same thing."

Uriel raised an eyebrow at the demon's back. "Quite an interesting generalisation, calling all angels idiots, Crowley," he commented. "But I have to admit that, for the most part, you do have a point. You may serve the Prince of Lies, but that does not prove anything. To judge a servant solely by their master and not their own value is foolish -- after all, that Prince of Lies was once a servant to Him."

He now turned towards Raphael. "You fascinate me, Raphael," he said levelly. "Many things do, but at the moment, you are what especially draws my fascination and interest. You talk as if doctors and physicians -- your 'kin', like you said -- are completely separate from all other beings."

"There are humans who heal, yes. There are angels who heal more than other angels, too. But that doesn't make them very different from the others of their kind. So a doctor may be frustrated that they cannot help more. And? What about other humans, who are frustrated at not being able to help even the little than doctors can? Their frustration must be even worse. At least a doctor can, however frustrated, be confident that he has done his best. What can the other human say? That he was there and watched very closely as the doctor did what he could? How very useless that other one must feel."

"You are not that different from others of your kind, my dear Raphael -- and I am not talking about healers here. You say you are not unique, yet you seem to think so. So you are a doctor? Fine. That is a wonderful thing; the world certainly needs more of them. But that does not make you that different. You claim to have 'seen what happens to doctors who feel to much and go to far'. You have? Excellent. So have I. And I have also seen what happens to 'destroyers,' like you call them, who do the same thing. Do you know what? The end result is not that much different. Your feelings, their nature, or their consequences -- the fact that you are a healer first and foremost does not make those things any different from those of other angels."

"And what is this thing about destroying? That others destroy -- a negative thing, as you portray it, one that brings only suffering and pain -- and you and other healers are the ones forced to watch from the side and suffer? Really, Raphael, I thought you knew better."

"Sure, Michael is destructive at times. And what about it? That is the purpose He created him for. If he is aggressive, that is how He made him to be. He needs weapons to destroy just as much as He needs hands to heal. Michael just happens to be one of those weapons, while you serve as a pair of healing hands. That does not make him any worse than you are; rather you two complete each other. What would you sew together, if nobody destroyed?"

"And the Horsepeople? They are just doing their job. In the end, however much they make the humanity suffer, they have been sent onto their quest by Him. We may try to stop them from doing any outrageous damage, but in the end, they are doing what He has set them to do; they are a part of His plan. Their task is not, unlike you seem to think, to make you and other healers suffer. Until the End comes and they will do what they were originally created for, their task is simply to make the humans appreciate His gifts more by showing them the dark side of the life."

"Those who destroy are only serving their purpose, playing their own part of His plan. Yet you bind them all together with demons -- ones that, I happen to observe, you consider the vilest of creatures. Is anybody who destroys instead of healing below you somehow, be they a demon, a personification, or even a fellow angel? That is what your words make me feel like, my friend -- and that is not true. A doctor is not better than a warrior by default, however much you would like to feel so."

"You say you do not want to lose Presence. Loving has never made anybody lose that. However, you seem to me to be treading a dangerous path, Raphael -- a path of pride. Pride is what made Lucifer Fall. Therefore, I advise you to think."

Spinning back on his heel, Crowley stared at the archangel.

"Oh, for fuck's sake. I never said anything about sex. I was talking about love. Even you should know that they're not the same thing. And what the hell does 'As happy as I've any right to be' mean? Who decides how happy you get to be if it's not you?"

He glared at Raphael.

"Leave Eve out of this. That was work. Besides, I never told her she'd be happier, just that she'd have knowledge, which was perfectly true. And of course you have no fucking guarantees. You never do. So what? If something bad happens, you go on."

Nearly panting in anger, Crowley couldn't figure out why he was trying so hard to convince Raphael. It was like beating his head against a brick wall and he was doing it for no apparent reason.

"Sod this. Do what you want."

"As for you, Crowley," he muttered, "I do love, even if you disdain my particular way of loving. And I have no right to be happy at the expense or harm of others, no right to be happy again His law. If murder brought me joy, would you advocate that? Possibly; but that wouldn't make it right."

He glared back at the demon.

"And what's this but work? You cared so little about Him that I'm sure 'going on' was no trouble for you; but I would be destroyed. What I want is to remain secure - and there's only one way to ensure that."

"Now you are the one talking of things he knows nothing about," growled Crowley.

He threw up his hands in disgust. "You know what? Go ahead and find out the hard way. See if I care. But don't say I never told you."

Turning his attention to the other archangel, Crowley said, "Uriel, I would like to speak with you whenever you have the time. I'll be around. Good day."

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