neutral_omens | (no subject)

Date: January 25, 2000 (During Raphael and Gabriel's conversation)
Setting: Uriel's room
Status: Private - Uriel and Michael (Complete)
Summary: Uriel is happy and Michael is scared.

Uriel was singing.

Now, this was a fairly unusual occurance. Out of all the forms of art, music was the one most foreign to him. He did know its many forms, approving of some and disapproving of some, but he'd never bothered to attempt to master any of them. He could play a flute -- not even he would play a harp -- and sing, yes, but even then his choice of music was rather limited. As far as he was concerned, the only thing music was good for was praising the God.

Of course, where ever had somebody raised their voice in praise, he had heard and learnt it. However, he never truly felt the need for it, choosing to honour Him through his actions instead. Only around Christmas would he ever sing -- and whenever he was happy. It wasn't Christmas now, of course, but he was singing, feeling happier than ever since his arrival to the manor. In fact, he felt like he absolutely had to sing, fly, just move around, do something before he exploded with joy and energy.

He sang quietly so as not to disturb any of the demons in the Manor, should they be nearby. They hardly would appreciate hearing an angelic voice singing of His glory, after all. However, even though quiet, his voice somehow managed to convey his happiness. There was no reason for it that he knew of, just a feeling of energy and delight that made all his worries seem unimportant and far away. Why should he worry or feel down? The sun was shining, the world was beautiful, and He was great as always.

Suddenly he heard a knock from the door. "Come in, Michael," he said automatically in the middle of his song, already knowing who was behind the door -- after all, nobody but Michael even came to his room. And truly, as the door was opened, it revealed his fellow archangel.

Michael did not look good, not good at all. In fact, he looked absolutely dreadful. His expression was tired, a frown resided between his brows, and his hair was now messy from all the times he'd run his hand through it. In general he just seemed to be the embodiment of misery.

"What is it, my dear Michael?" he asked, now finally stopping both his singing and moving around the room. He hadn't been even aware of it, but he had indeed been moving around in a way that could have been called dancing had he not been an angel, his steps light and graceful as ever. Now, however, he stood still, looking at the other immortal. Worry wasn't what he was feeling -- he was simply too happy to even consider being worried at the moment -- but rather wonder and curiosity. Not many things could make Michael look like this.

"You look miserable," he then added as an afterthought.

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"Well, that might be because I am," sighed Michael, closing the door behind himself and leaning against it. Uriel was apparently on a good mood for once, he noticed, at least if his behaviour was anything to go by. After all, when Michael had opened the door Uriel had been hurrying around like a child after too much sugar, singing all the time. Even now as he looked at him there was a smile on his lips -- one that worried Michael almost as much as it relieved him.

"I'm scared, Uriel," he confessed, the words spilling forth before he could stop them. "I'm scared and I don't know why."

Except that it wasn't true. He knew exactly why he was scared, even if he would have loved to deny it.

"You? Scared?" Uriel raised an eyebrow. "What next, birds flying upside down?" He couldn't help but smile in amusement. The mere thought of Michael being scared was ridiculous.

"Oh, be quiet," sighed Michael. His eyes were more serious than Uriel could recall seeing them in quite some time. "Did you notice anything... unusual... a few days ago? Something involving angelic powers?"

Uriel frowned in thought. "No, I can't say I did," he finally confessed. "Not anything I'd remember, anyway. But then again, it takes a lot of angelic power before I notice anything. Demonic powers are a different thing, but anything angelic is usually drowned by the Presence." While he spoke his mind was busy going over all the possibilities that had sprung from his lively imagination as soon as Michael spoke. Very few of them were pleasant.

"Why so? What happened?" He took a few skipping steps towards the window while he spoke. It was such a beautiful day. Maybe he should go outside?

"Well..." Michael tried to compose a somewhat satisfying answer. However, speaking had never been one of his talents. Well, to be honest, very few things could be counted as talents of his. Nothing aside from fighting, really. He was a warrior and not much else.

"We went to the greenhouse, Raphael and I," he finally started to explain. "However, somebody was already there -- to be exact, the demon Crowley. He and Raphael started to talk -- well, argue, rather. Raphael told that the demon had tried to -- to molest him." He clenched his teeth. If he as much as suspected that the demon had done anything to his Raphael ever again he would kill him, Adam or no Adam.

"Anyway. Before I knew what was happening, Raphael... he attacked Crowley. Not physically, of course, but strengthened his aura so much that it hurt the demon. In the end he collapsed, and I ended up carrying him back to the Manor to rest."

Now, Uriel couldn't help but laugh. He didn't know Crowley very well, of course, but he highly doubted that Aziraphale would be interested in a demon that stupid. "And you believed him?" he asked disbelievingly. "Tell me, Michael, would any demon worth his fangs be stupid enough to try to molest an archangel? Especially one you have obvious interest in? And besides, if Raphael truly could hurt Crowley there, don't you think he could have done something about any attempt at molestation, too?"

He would have said more, had his attention not been suddenly caught by something else. There was a bird sitting outside the window, and, at the moment, it sure seemed more interesting than anything Michael had said.

"Oh, look!" he exclaimed, pointing at the bird, dashing towards the window. As he hastily opened it the bird got scared and flew away. He tried to reach his hand towards it, disappointed as it didn't return. Glancing down at the ground he then wondered how long it would take him to get his wings out and whether he could do that before hitting the ground if he jumped. In the air he might actually catch the bird. At least he could try.

At first Michael was too shocked at the mere suggestion that Raphael might not have told the pure truth to even realize that something was wrong with Uriel's sudden interest in the bird. Then, however, he realized that this was not normal. Not at all. What made him realize this -- to his great shock -- was the fact that Uriel started to climb out of the window, apparently planning to catch the bird in flight.

Even if he did have only one talent, at least he was truly great with it. The battle reflexes of somebody who had fought even before the beginning of time kicked in and he leapt forward, catching Uriel just as the other was about to fall from his unsteady position. Uriel was perhaps not as light as Raphael, but Michael still had no problem of any kind with simply picking him up from the window and setting him then down on the floor on his other side, placing himself between the other archangel and the place of danger. Miracling the window closed, he then gave Uriel a serious gaze.

"What exactly was that?" he demanded.

Uriel glared at Michael, pouting a bit. Why did he have to spoil his fun? "I just wanted to catch that bird," he said defensively. "It was pretty."

Completely oblivious to the fact that he currently sounded like a stubborn toddler, he then smiled, feeling suddenly very happy again. It didn't matter that Michael hadn't let him go out of the window. Surely he had nothing against him using the door.

"If I run out now, maybe I can still catch it!" he exclaimed, rushing towards the door. He completely ignored Michael's calls for him, hurrying into the corridor, wanting to get out of the Manor as soon as possible. He would catch the pretty bird. And then Michael would see!

Michael stared after Uriel. No, this was definitely not right. Not at all.

He bit his lip, knowing that there was nothing he could do in the end. He didn't know of any way to help Uriel, for help he obviously needed even if he didn't know it himself. Raphael would probably have known, he realized, but he also knew that he couldn't ask it of Raphael. His beloved healer didn't seem to be getting along with Uriel very well at the moment.

Well, at least when he was happy Uriel wasn't likely to hurt himself or anybody else. There was little he could do now. While he was strong, he wasn't very fast -- fast, yes, but not very much so -- and Uriel was just fast enough to avoid him, on feet or in flight.

He left Uriel's room, the fears he had hoped would fade away with some conversation now even heavier on his mind as worry for Uriel was added to them.