"He called me weak," Raphael said coldly. "He pressed every button, played on every fear I had. What he did... it wasn't even about respect. You're right - you did listen. So you know how I feel, know how frightened I've been.
Crowley deliberately used that to verbally jab me. Before that he purposefully kept me in the dark, insulted me, disparaged my efforts and shut me out of where I belonged."
The weight of the gun seemed gradually more certain in Raphael's hands and with each moment that passed he grew used to the feel of it and appreciated the sense of power it lent him.
"Well good for him - maybe you shouldn't have been selling your soul in the first place. Why on earth you would do something so foolhardy is beyond me. But I really don't care what he did for you; he used my space as the site for his demonic practices, didn't tell me - didn't even ask. And then he had the nerve to call me useless, after pushing me out of my own practice, after picking me up and throwing me down like a rag doll, someone he could just smack around.
I'm tired of being that angel, the 'weak' one, the healer, the one without a weapon.
And if I shoot you it won't be because you associate with Crowley; it will be because you treated me with that same disrespect that he did, that same casual arrogance that feeds the insecurities that made me run to Michael in the first place."
He took a deep breath and adjusted his grip on the gun.
"Nothing I can make you say would ever be sincere - no apologies, no words of regard. It would all be lies to save your hide.
But while you're here - why don't you tell me exactly what debauched thing he did in my hospital that nobody else seems to want to share?
no subject
Crowley deliberately used that to verbally jab me. Before that he purposefully kept me in the dark, insulted me, disparaged my efforts and shut me out of where I belonged."
The weight of the gun seemed gradually more certain in Raphael's hands and with each moment that passed he grew used to the feel of it and appreciated the sense of power it lent him.
"Well good for him - maybe you shouldn't have been selling your soul in the first place. Why on earth you would do something so foolhardy is beyond me. But I really don't care what he did for you; he used my space as the site for his demonic practices, didn't tell me - didn't even ask. And then he had the nerve to call me useless, after pushing me out of my own practice, after picking me up and throwing me down like a rag doll, someone he could just smack around.
I'm tired of being that angel, the 'weak' one, the healer, the one without a weapon.
And if I shoot you it won't be because you associate with Crowley; it will be because you treated me with that same disrespect that he did, that same casual arrogance that feeds the insecurities that made me run to Michael in the first place."
He took a deep breath and adjusted his grip on the gun.
"Nothing I can make you say would ever be sincere - no apologies, no words of regard. It would all be lies to save your hide.
But while you're here - why don't you tell me exactly what debauched thing he did in my hospital that nobody else seems to want to share?