Of all the things he had thought Raphael might do, the possibility that he might pull a gun, of all things, had never crossed John's mind. As far as he knew, no angel in history had ever used one. Christ on a trampoline. He really is insane. The curse words sounded clumsy and unconvincing on Raphael's lips, but the simple fact that he was using them was evidence enough that he was not in a normal or stable frame of mind.
John knew very little about firearms, but Chas had shown him a bit and he could see that Raphael wasn't holding it properly. And that he was just as scared of the thing as John was. The safety was definitely off, however. Not a good combination at all; the angel could just as easily shoot himself, or someone else through a wall, by accident as shoot John intentionally.
"All right," he said as calmly as he could manage, his mind racing for a solution and his eyes fixed on the barrel as he slowly raised his empty hands, "I believe you. You could kill me. You wouldn't need a gun, but that'd do the job, right enough." He shifted his gaze to meet the archangel's. "So what do I have to do to get you to put it down?"
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John knew very little about firearms, but Chas had shown him a bit and he could see that Raphael wasn't holding it properly. And that he was just as scared of the thing as John was. The safety was definitely off, however. Not a good combination at all; the angel could just as easily shoot himself, or someone else through a wall, by accident as shoot John intentionally.
"All right," he said as calmly as he could manage, his mind racing for a solution and his eyes fixed on the barrel as he slowly raised his empty hands, "I believe you. You could kill me. You wouldn't need a gun, but that'd do the job, right enough." He shifted his gaze to meet the archangel's. "So what do I have to do to get you to put it down?"