neutral_omens | (no subject)

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Date: January 23, 2000
Setting: Michael and Raphael's room
Status: Semi-Private - Gabriel, Raphael (Complete)
Summary: Gabriel comes to find out what happened and Raph gets to feeling rather guilty.

Raphael woke up in a bed feeling like he had a massive hangover and it took a few moments to register the fact that the sound which had woken him up was somebody knocking at the door. He shook his head to clear it and saw Michael smiling at him from the bedside, his eyes colored with concern. For a moment, Raphael wondered why he felt so utterly drained and exhausted.

Then the memory of what he'd done came rushing back and he bit his lip nervously. There was a good chance that whoever was knocking was pissed off and possibly demonic. Michael was there though and he supposed he ought to see what the being wanted, just in case.

"Come in!" He called before Michael had to get up to open the door.

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It was always odd, feeling such a sudden shift in a presence that had been so steady for six thousand years before. It caught him like a hook in his chest, grappling for hold, pulling him towards the place where he was only vaguely aware that he would find Raphael.

He opened the door slowly to find not one but two of his fellow archangels. Their presence seemed to burst upon him, filling his senses like smoke unseen, heavy and almost blinding after days with naught but Belial's muted aura.

"Raphael, Michael." The words had a heavy familiarity on his tongue, and for a moment, there seemed nothing else in all the ages to say.

"Is everything all right?" he finished, casting a cautious glance about the room.

Raphael felt himself go red as he realized what - most likely - had drawn his angelic compatriot to his room. He coughed nervously and crumpled the sheets beneath his hands.

"I... um... well, that is.... I, uh... I guess I got a little bit upset. Slightly out of control." He coughed again. "There were some unfortunate things said, and I... well.... I do hope, I mean...

The demon didn't get discorporated, did he?" He asked in a small voice. He was extremely angry but at the same time knew the gravity of discorporation - and knew that if he had, Adam probably wouldn't be happy. "I mean, I did try to fix things..."

"Demon? You mean Crowley?" Because really, he couldn't think of any other demons in line for a discorporation, although he suspected that Crowley was a bit more accustomed to angelic wrath than the other archangel seemed to think.

Gabriel blinked, confusion creasing his brow. Somewhere between Raphael's nervous tension and the concern showing so plainly in Michael's eyes hovered the truth of the matter, but he couldn't quite piece it together. He added, gently but insistently, "Raphael, what happened?"

"Yes, Crowley." Raphael looked down at the sheets, now thoroughly embarassed by what had transpired. "We had a row, over... well..."

He sighed in frustration as he thought back to the altercation in Crowley's room and wondered how to explain without telling Michael that he hadn't been exactly forthright about the nature of that encounter.

"I suppose it began a few days ago. He did something in my surgery and he wouldn't tell me what and we fought; I've been rather upset with him since then so when Michael and I found him in teh green house, I... I was reminded and got rather annoyed. I suppose I might have picked a bit of a fight," he said, casting a nervous glance at Michael, "And it... well...

He called me useless and wondered why He kept me around," Raphael stated morosely, still smarting emotionally from hearing the criticism aloud. "Or something to that effect. And after that... I pretty much blew up. My aura got a bit out of control, I yelled, tried to fix things and ended up passing out. I don't remember much more than that, honestly.

Aside from being really, really angry, that is."

He felt ashamed to admit it - anger wasn't exactly angelic after all - but given how blantant and vicious his attack was it would have been hard to explain any other way.

Gabriel arched a brow faintly, keeping his expression otherwise composed, though his eyes lingered on the copper-haired angel. Michael's confusion seemed odd, but Raphael's anger, strong enough to cause such an ethereal stir, to cause him such embarrassment now, seemed wholly out of place, and the situation had an unrealistic quality about it.

Nevertheless, he shook his head sensibly, saying, "You shouldn't pay any attention to Crowley, you know." For both of their sakes, most likely, though Gabriel quickly shoved away thoughts of Aziraphale's peculiar arrangement as he moved to stand next to Michael at their fellow archangel's bedside. "Are you all right, Raphael?" he asked gently, eyes narrowed observantly. "This doesn't seem like you..."

Raphael kept looking at the sheets. He was beginning to wish the last few hours - no, the last few weeks - hadn't happened.

"I know, I know," he snapped. "But when he keeps saying things and... I don't know why I listened. It's just that he says stuff that I've thought about myself so it feels like maybe he's right."

He exhaled loudly and slumped against the pillows.

"I'm upset. Under stress, I suppose. Like whatever it was he did - why wouldn't he tell me? But there were traces of demonic aura everywhere and if he's not telling me it can't have been good. And why wasn't I even included?

Nobody tells me anything, except for Uriel who keeps insinuating that I'm going to Fall. I'm tired of being here, I'm angry I can't leave, and... and..." he bit his lips. "There are other things too." He looked up at the warrior archangel. "Michael? Could you leave us for a bit?"

Michael nodded and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Raphael resumed looking at the sheets and took a deep breath.

"I've been doing some things that maybe I shouldn't..."

Gabriel's eyes strayed to the door as it closed behind Michael's imposing figure. He stayed that way for sometime, chewing pensively on the inside of his lip, and it was only when Raphael spoke that he turned his attention back to the disconsolate angel. Not sure what to make of his companion's confession, his concern at least seemed to be getting him somewhere. Seating himself cautiously on the edge of the bed, Gabriel placed a soothing hand on Raphael's shoulder and asked in a soft, even tone, "Raphael, what's going on?"

Raphael touched Gabriel's hand and looked into his eyes. His stomach twisted as he thought of how his fellow archangel might react to an admission of near deceit or at the very least manipulation. Then again, it was Gabriel and he tended to be understanding.

"Promise you won't tell anybody?" Raphael whispered. "And that no matter what I say you won't get mad at me? Promise?"

The very air around them seemed tense with something larger than his own worry, and the weight of it closed upon his lungs when he breathed, in and out, slow and steady. His blue eyes never left Raphael's.

"I won't be angry," Gabriel said, fighting a little more now to keep his voice even. "Raphael, you can tell me."

His throat grew dry and his hands trembled. Yet Raphael still managed to speak; quietly, but he managed.

"I... I've been upset by the presence of that... that disgusting disease breeder," he whispered, his face contorted. "So I entertained... entertain thoughts against him and... I just wondered why he was needed!" His face grew pale. "But Uriel said that it wasn't good to ask and implied... he implied I'd Fall!" He shivered. "And nobody else in this place cares, they all want it, except...

Except that to Fell me Uriel's sword has to touch me. And maybe if there was... you know... something... somebody to fight for me, stand in the way, maybe it wouldn't happen that way. Maybe I could get away or... or something."

He refused to look at Gabriel as he came to the worst of it.

"And he was already two-thirds of the way there anyway, and if he's that thick, it's not my fault!" He burst out in an effort to rationalize it. "I just... gave him a nudge. Exaggerated a little. So maybe I said somethings that weren't exactly true, or that I didn't really, really feel but I only did it so that I wouldn't Fall because I was scared but now..."

Raphael's voice quivered.

"He thinks I love him! And... and I don't know what to do! Because if he's not there I could Fall but what I've been - no, what I am doing..."

His he hung.

"And I... I twisted things too. To provoke a fight with the demon Crowley. I was angry so I said stuff that wasn't exactly not true but... but it made Michael think that Crowley tries to molest me. I was mad at him. He mocks me. Says I'm weak. Wanted Michael to show him. Hurt him.

I was scared and angry. And I think I'm in over my head," he told Gabriel in a very small voice.

Then he waited for the blow to come, for Gabriel to be horrified, disgusted with him. Maybe he'd run off and go tell Michael or worse, Uriel or Crowley and then things would really take a downward turn.

He felt ill inside and wanted to cry but instead just sat there, looking at the sheets and wondering how he was going to get out of the mess he'd made.

For a long while, Gabriel could not find the words to match this confession, and he sat, unblinking, as though he could absorb just as much of its meaning from the other angel's troubled expression. And Raphael did look troubled, looked on the verge of tears, and Gabriel wondered how long the archangel had been caught up in this, imprisoned in his own lies. Wondered how he could bear to betray another angel thus.

"Raphael..." but the words fell away, weak and faded for all the wrenching feeling in his stomach. He'd known about the rivalry with Pestilence, understood it in part, but that it seemed to have taken such a hold, to have sparked the flame of such a deception... He leaned his cheek in his palm, his own touch seeming cold compared to the memory of Belial's, and started again. "Raphael, I understand your fear. I know it's not always as easy as it should be, even when we were created for no other purpose, and this place... this place is trying, to be sure. But, Raphael, you can't - you've got to realize you can't keep on this way. Maybe you've led Michael to believe your feelings are deeper than they are, but you do care for him. I know you do.

"What if something happened to him? Would you be able to forgive yourself if he Fell for you?"

My greatest downfall and my only saviour.

Gabriel faltered, feeling his heartbeat most prominently in his throat, drowning word and thought until he'd managed to slow it with a deep, deliberate breath. He wasn't looking at Raphael any longer, though he knew the other angel wasn't aware of it; his eyes were fixed somewhere beyond the deep blue of the sky outside the bedroom window.

"It's not fair to either of you," he concluded after a moment, his lost gaze finding Raphael once more. "You've got to be honest with him. You know that, Raphael, or you'll only be treading deeper. You know what you're doing isn't right. But it's not too late, not yet. Not if you tell him now."

Raphael lifted his face to look at Gabriel. There were tears in his eyes but they remained unspilled.

"You don't understand - nobody does, nobody is in my position! I can't," he stated in an agitated but firm voice. "Don't you see that? I can't because then if something happens I won't have anybody to help me. He won't Fall. He can fight and protect himself. That's something I simply cannot do. Of the four of us I'm the least powerful in terms of combat. Do you think that's easy, knowing that I can barely defend myself?

I need him. Maybe... Maybe just until were out of the House or whatever happens, happens... I don't know. But I don't want to Fall!"

He took another deep breath.

"Besides... besides maybe it's already too late." He looked down at his hands again. "We've... I've... I mean... Michael and I have done a lot of stuff together. A lot of stuff. If he finds out I was, well... faking it, something bad could happen. He might get mad at me. Or at himself. He might do something stupid."

Suddenly, his face contorted and he grabbed a pillow, throwing it violently against the opposite wall.

"Why did he have to be such an idiot? So gullible?" He ranted hysterically, but low enough so that no one outside the room would hear. "It was like an invitation to do what I did! If he wasn't so dumb then this never would have happened! I wouldn't have tried if I didn't know I would succeed!

Stupid Michael," he pouted, flopping back down on the bed. "Stupid Michael, stupid house, stupid horseman, stupid everything."

Raphael sighed.

"I can't tell him, Gabriel. I can't. He might be my only chance. It feels like I'm going to explode, keeping it in, and I know I'm trapped...

But I can't."

Gabriel's expression remained quite neutral through the unstable tide of the other angel's emotions, the mask behind which his thoughts whirled with all the force of driving winds. The situation, for all its sobriety, still had the subtle, shifting air of something unreal, and he couldn't quite seem to comprehend all he was hearing. Yet one thing he was sure of was the wrenching in his gut at seeing two of his fellows caught in such a painful game.

He drew a deep breath, composing his thoughts and trying to keep his words from spilling forth too harshly. "Perhaps I've not been in your position, but Falling is not something any of us take lightly. And the truth of it is, Raphael, physical strength will make no difference in the end. There is only one who decides if you Fall, and He already sees what you're doing."

His eyes on the other were chill, unyielding, though Raphael had yet to meet the icy gaze. "Don't you think you should be honest with Michael, before you lose your chance?"

"It's not that simple!" Raphael protested indignantly. Spot of red spread on his cheek as he grew more agitated, looking at Gabriel half angry half frightened. "And what do you mean by that, that 'He already sees' me? You I thought, of all beings..."

He turned away.

"He won't Fall. I won't Fall. It won't happen!!!! You understand?" He snapped, nearly yelling. "I merely... exaggerated. Blurred a few lines. It's not so bad.

I'd rather that than be alone. If loneliness and insecurity are a confession's only rewards - why should I say anything? Then he will be unhappy and I will be unsafe and neither of us would have a companion.

This way we both win. Sort of," he rationalized defiantly.

Raphael's eyes met his, startling in their honest emotion: a lucid mix of fear and anger, glittering, feral. Caged.

Gabriel rose when the other had turned from him, wondering how best to go about this. His words had obviously made some impression, or Raphael would not have reacted so, but some sordid reason still had hold in the other's thoughts. He realized there was little more progress to me made here; but though he'd made no explicit promises, he wondered if he shouldn't keep Raphael's secret, give the other a chance to seek his own forgiveness first. Although Gabriel didn't know how he would face Michael, knowing this twisted truth.

"I never said I wanted it to happen, Raphael." Since neither angel would meet the other's gaze, he spoke quietly, for all intensive purposes, to the floor at the foot of the other's bed. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't care. But I'm not so sure of your plan, and from the fear in your voice, I'd say neither are you. Just think about what you're doing; really think about it, and I think you'll come to a very different conclusion."

And then Gabriel turned away from his fellow, hanging hesitantly in the doorway for only a moment before closing it behind him.

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