(no subject)

[stds-r-4-lovers.livejournal.com]

Date: April 2nd, 2000
Status: Semi-private Pestilence and Famine, but if it makes sense for others to join, more the merrier!
Setting: Outside the Manor Grounds then to the Infirmary
Summary: Famine finds his old mate in bad shape
Rating:  PG- some disturbing images....

Pestilence wasn't sure how long he had been unconscious, but he figured it must have been a long time by the amount of blood that surrounded him, sinking into the earth, crusting the long blades of grass along with his clothes and hair. In that moment between dark vacuum and consciousness, the former horseman couldn't remember how he had gotten there, nor what had taken place, nor why the bones in his hand were on the outside rather than the inside. Then it came back, and at precisely the same time that his body again realized it was in a world of horrid pain. His nerves screamed, and he almsot passed out again. He hadn't even moved and it had hurt that bad, he didn't want to even think about what would happen if he did try to move, or, even worse, have an involotary movement like sneezing. At that though, he figured half of his broken bones would be sneezed out right along with the bloody clots and bile. He didn't relish the idea.

The sun was high in the sky, baking into his pale white skin. He wasn't normally prone to sunburns, even in spite of his fair skin, mostly because he was usually wearing clothing that covered him fully. Yet, as he lied there, he could feel the damaging rays burning though the matted clumps of hair and he could tell that his scalp was already blistering.

He had thought about Death- hell, he'd worked with him for nearly six thousand years, but it had never really sunk in that he might, one day, die in a very human fashion like this. Closing lids over teary eyes he silently waited for his colleague to collect him.

At least in death he woudln't have to worry anymore.  He wouldn't have to question his existance.  And he woudln't have to live with the idea that Uriel had tried to kill himself because of him.

Comments

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

It had been quite a while since Famine had really gotten the chance to really sit down for a good chat with Pestilence, and he'd barely seen him since the impromptu party that Pest had thrown for Pollution and him in the bar. On a whim Famine decided to seek out his old friend for some drinks, but Pest wasn't in his room. He went outside to see if perhaps Pest was out riding, but before he reached the bike he caught a glimpse of something red and pale on the grass. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be Pestilence. Or what was left of him. Famine cursed under his breath and ran over, stopping himself before he touched Pest's shoulder. He didn't want to make things worse. "Pest? Pest, are you alright?" He pulled off his suit coat and carefully pulled it over Pest to hopefully sheild him a bit from the sun.

Pest was right that one of his collegues would come to collect him, he was just wrong about which one.

[stds-r-4-lovers.livejournal.com]

Pestilence was vaguely aware of the approaching figure. He wondered vaguely as the blood seeped out of his wounds, what Death would be like... not just the realm, but what DEATH would say when he collected his broken body. Something vaguely snide, he supposed. Maybe the leader of the horsemen might offer him a final chocolate, though, like he had given him for Christmas. 'That would be nice', thought his blood deprived brain.

Then he heard the voice. Famine? His old mate? The small part of his mind that was still functioning tried to figure out what Famine would be doing out here. And for a second he was scared that Pollution might be with him; he didn't want the kid to see him like this.

He felt the weight of the coat on him and he cringed. That wasn't a good sign, he thought.

"Famine, is that you?" He managed to mumble with his thick tongue. "Poll's not with you, is he?"

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, it's me." Famine patted Pestilence's shoulder gingerly in an attempt at reassurance, afraid to touch him let alone try to move him into the manor. "No, he's not. What the hell happened, Pest?" The question probably should have been 'Who happened.' Famine was worried, Pest was in really bad shape. Bad enough that he was afraid to try and move him, even to get him to the infirmary. And from the look of the blood and broken bones, he needed to get to the infirmary. What he didn't know, though, was if there was anyone in the manor able and willing to help him.

[stds-r-4-lovers.livejournal.com]

Pestilence tried to keep himself from twitching at Famine's pat on the shoulder. "I, um, I pissed someone off big-time Schwartzy." Swallowing hurt, but he had to clear some of the blood from his mouth before he could say anymore. "I've gotten myself into some, intersting situations lately."

"Schwartz, could I please die now?" He tried to smile, but it came out looking rather paltry. Well, it was only half-way a joke anyway.

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

"I can see that, Pest." He smiled a little at the old nickname, but it was weak. At Pestilences next comment though, he could swear that his heart stopped for a moment. "Wrong coworker, Pest. That's a little outside my job description." He was determined to keep his tone light, and he looked around desperately for anyone who could help get his friend inside.

[dontcallmegabby.livejournal.com]

He was almost beginning to wonder if he was bad luck when he returned to the manor.

As an angel, Gabriel of course had no serious superstitions such as this, but he couldn't help but notice that for the second time he'd come back to overwhelming sensations of anger and pain that settled over him like a metaphysical nausea when he reappeared just outside the manor grounds. It was unpleasantly reminiscent of Aziraphale's discorporation.

This time there were - thankfully - no angelic auras staining the scene. On either side, he added to himself with a grimness tightening his expression, and then promptly dismissed the thought. What he found this time was a trim, dark figure hovering over a much paler casualty: horsepeople, he realized, with the unsettling feel of beings that resided neither in Heaven nor Hell, but were entirely earthly entities. Gabriel indeed had no idea what sort of injuries an apocalyptic personification might sustain, but he could tell that this one had quite obviously come to harm: Pestilence, he realized as he drew closer. Well, Raphael might not thank him for his involvement, but this did not figure in his thoughts so prominently as Adam.

After all, Adam had been the one to see to Aziraphale's limp, lifeless form after the angelic presence had been sent back to Heaven. Adam, when no one else would. Gabriel still did not know fully what the Antichrist intended by gathering so many mismatched entities in one place - what particular part of the Plan this might be categorized under - but he suspected it was not to stand by as others suffered.

He approached the horsemen, unsure if not timid. "What's happened?" he asked. "Is - is there anything I can do?"

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine looked up in surprise as a powerful aura approached them, and his eyes narrowed as he recognized the archangel. He debated for a moment, wondering if the angel could be trusted or not. Finally he decided that trustworthy or not, he needed help. "I don't know all of the details," he said. "I would appreciate it, though, if you could help me get Pestilence inside." He wondered if they should take him to the infirmary, or if that would just make things worse once Raphael found out. Raphael may even have been the one who'd attacked Pest, he certainly seemed the most likely.

[stds-r-4-lovers.livejournal.com]

Pestilence felt the angelic aura approaching, too. For just a minute he hoped against hope that it was Uriel, that his angel had come to help him, to make him feel better. But he soon realized that it wasn't. For a fleeting second he feared it was Raphael, the angel coming to finish what the old god had started. But no, it was another angel. An angel that was offering help. He almost sighed in relief, he would have, too, if it hadn't been for the broken rib threatening to puncture through the lung.

"Please, not infirmary. Somewhere dark. Somewhere he won't find me," he managed to wheeze.

[dontcallmegabby.livejournal.com]

"Of course," Gabriel replied to the dark horseman, only a touch distracted. Mentally, he took note of the horseman's most prominent injuries: it wasn't pretty, that much was obvious, but he was sure he'd be able to keep the other's vitals stable until they'd gotten him back into the manor. Back under Adam's care.

"It'll be all right," he continued, trying out a smile in the pale horseman's direction; it fell a bit flat. "I'll be able to stall any further damage while we get you inside.

"Perhaps it would be best just to take him to his room?" he asked pointedly, and waited for the angular figure to make the first move toward his companion.

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine nodded and gestured Gabriel over. "Thank you. You're right, his room would be best. I can show you where it is, if you'll help me carry him." He gently took hold of Pestilence's shoulders, trying not to look as worried as he was.

[dontcallmegabby.livejournal.com]

The archangel's movements were cautious, deliberate, as he stooped to support the injured horseman's weight; with what awareness he could spare, he sought to keep Pestilence stable, quelling what bleeding he could find, supporting broken bones with a thought that they should not grind against each other nor shift out of place and perpetuate what damage had already been done.

Just a few steps, and the mantle of Adam's awareness fell over them, blanketing the angel with sensations both strange and assuring; Gabriel felt it even more pronounced for his time spent away from it, and was reminded of the emotion on the boy's face when he'd realized he couldn't protect all of them. He wondered how soon the Antichrist would be aware of Pestilence's injuries, if indeed he might meet them in the halls, that same concern drawing lines across a young face.

Whether the nearest entrance had by chance been left open, or one of the three beings had willed it so, they soon had Pestilence's battered form inside.

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine could tell that Gabriel was doing something to keep Pest stable, and he was greatful for it. He carefully steered them to Pestilence's room. He quickly opened the door and helped settle Pestilence on the bed. He looked at Gabriel hopefully. "I don't suppose you have any skill in healing?" Famine certainly didn't, healing was usually the opposite of what the horsepeople were trying to accomplish.

[stds-r-4-lovers.livejournal.com]

Pestilence was not capable of forming many thoughts, the majority of his brain too preoccupied with being engulfed in pain. He slowly realized, though, that he was being lifted, that the angel and Famine were taking him to the manor. He was very relieved when they bypassed the infirmary and took him directly to his room. They settled him onto his bed, but in spite of their care and the efforts of the angel, he felt sharp pains thorughout his body once gravity yanked at his bones through the mattress.

"Please make it stop," he said to no one inparticular.

[dontcallmegabby.livejournal.com]

The horsemen's pained moan made Gabriel wince inwardly, and though the archangel seemed to have been healing his share of injuries lately - fellow angels, unwilling mortals* - apocalyptic personifications were beings he'd rarely had experience with in the past.

Still, with Famine looking at him with such hope hidden in his eyes while Pestilence lie bleeding onto his own bedclothes, he didn't feel he could exactly give up now.

"I can try," he said gently; and then, because he wasn't sure what part of the query was genuine trust and what part pure desperation, he added cautiously, "It might be best if he's unconscious, though, if neither of you objects."



*Though the mortal'd hardly been voluble at the time, Gabriel was still convinced, by the nature of their relationship, that Constantine would have thoroughly objected to his healing him had the man not been so, er, otherwise occupied.

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

There was genuine trust, angels generally didn't go around hurting people, especially essentially neutral beings like the Horsepeople, but there was a good bit of desperation there, too. At Gabriel's comment Famine glanced at Pestilence worriedly. "That might be a good idea...." He watched Pest for a moment, to see what he thought of the idea.

[stds-r-4-lovers.livejournal.com]

Pestilence's ability for rational thought was quite low, but in his gut he could tell that the angel didn't really hold any ill-will towards him. He briefly thought that the case may change as soon as the angel knew about his relationship with Uriel, but for now he was safe. Nodding weakly, he accenented to the angel's suggestion, praying desperately for any relief from the pain.

Slowly he felt a warmth spread through his limbs, starting from toes and working upwards. As the warmth spread, he could no longer feel his body. For a moment he felt like he was floating, but it didn't last. Unconsciousness soon overtook him.

[dontcallmegabby.livejournal.com]

He severed the ties with awareness cautiously, taking care to keep it as gentle a release as drifting into sleep. When he was sure the personification was no longer aware of any pain, Gabriel took a quick mental survey of the damage; while the corporation of an apocalyptic horseperson came about in a very different way, its physiology seemed very much like an angel's, which he was at least marginally more familiar with. Good. Then it was just a matter of finding everything...

He started with the internal bleeding, extensive by this time; it was all much more clinical in his mind, perhaps because he had so little emotional attachment to the horsemen one way or the other, or perhaps simply because he'd had such practice lately. Whatever the reason, there was a much smoother transition as tissue knit together into vessels, into muscle and bone, and whole, healthy organs. Smoother, but not yet easier. Time passed by him slowly, measured only by the strain that still wore at his inexperience, the weary blankness that grew in the corners of his mind as he worked. But Famine was watching him with a concern that he could feel without ever seeing, and that was enough for him to press on.

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine watched worriedly as Gabriel put Pestilence to sleep and began healing the extensive wounds. He kept his face composed, almost blank, but the tension around his eyes and the hand clenched tight in the bedsheet betrayed him. The slow closing of Pestilence's wounds reassured him, but he didn't relax until the wounds were healed and the exhausted angel took his hands away. "Thank you." The words were heartfelt, but seemed inadequate for what he had done.

[dontcallmegabby.livejournal.com]

"You're welcome," Gabriel said quietly, smiling at a gratitude that seemed to extend beyond the simple words. He ran the back of a hand across his brow as though he were sweating, but there was no such sign of the weariness that ached in his bones. "He'll be all right," he continued, surveying the pale horseman one last time, until he was convinced the healing had been successful. "But he'll likely need his rest. So unless you'll be needing anything else, I'll take my leave..."

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine nodded and rose to see Gabriel to the door. "I'll see that he gets it. Thank you, I owe you one." He extended a hand for Gabriel to shake, meaning every word.

[dontcallmegabby.livejournal.com]

Gabriel took the personification's hand with a solemn nod of acknowledgment. Then, with one last glance, he made sure that Pestilence was no longer unconscious, but lost simply in much-needed slumber; once assured, he left the horsemen.

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine closed the door behind Gabriel and pulled a chair up next to Pestilence's bed, silently watching over his old friend while he rested and recovered.

[stds-r-4-lovers.livejournal.com]

Pestilence felt the presence of the angel leave and felt some semblance of sanity return. The pain was not gone, but it was lessening, and he found he could breathe again without too much difficulty of anguish. For a moment he just lied there, remembering how it was to be alive, but he slowly realized that Famine's familiar presence was right next to him. Reluctantly he opened his eyes to see he old friend.

"The more things change, eh Schwartzy? Once again I can truthfully say that if it weren't for your presence I wouldn't be here(1)."

(1) Famine had usually visited villages and towns right before Pestilence showed up. It was the nature of their relationship.

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine had been trying to think of who would have had cause to attack Pestilence (no matter how he thought about it, the Healer just didn't seem like the type), but he was pulled from his thoughts by movement from the bed. He leaned forward and smiled at his old friend as he opened his eyes, relieved to see him awake. "Hey, Pest, you had me worried for a bit. How are you feeling?"

[stds-r-4-lovers.livejournal.com]

Pestilence peered at Famine. "I feel like a pnemonia germ after a tri-cyclic antibotic." He tried to look wry, but it ended up in a pained squint. "I thought I was a goner, there, Fam. What the hell were you doing out in that field? You haven't taken up partitime work as a guardian angel, have you?"

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

"No, but fortunately one happened to be in the area." He relaxed a little, even if Pest was still in pain he was worlds better than he had been before Famine found him. "I was looking for you, actually, haven't seen you in a while. I didn't see you inside so I went to see if your bike was still here, I thought you might have gone out for a ride." He paused, wondering if he ought to wait, but decided it was better to know now in case something else happened. "What happened, Pest? Who beat you?"

[stds-r-4-lovers.livejournal.com]

Pestilence sighed and closed his eyes, wondering how much if anything he should tell Famine. He hadn't seen much of his old friend recently. He had figured that Famine and Pollution needed 'quality time,' and had let the two love birds nest. But now things were different. He had made himself a burden onto his old friend. The least he could do is tell the truth. Even if it was abridged.

"Its complicated. I've been, or, had been seeing somebody," he suddenly looked up to Famine with tears in his eyes. "I fell in love. I didn't mean to, it just happened. Oh Famine."

He felt Famine's thin hand patting his on the coverlet, and it gave him strength, even if just a teaspoon full. "You're wise, Fam. Always more so than I. At least you fell in lov with someone that understands you. Someone who knows the score and can take care of themselves. The one I love is troubled. That's probably a large part of the reason I fell for them in the first place.

"But there is someone who doesn't think we should be together. Hence, why I'm in this state."

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine was surprised, he hadn't expected that to be the reason that Pest had been beaten up. He also noticed that Pest had neatly avoided telling him any names. He squeezed Pest's hand reassuringly. "Do you need me to take them a message, to let them know that you're alright?" He paused, then frowned slightly. "And you still haven't told me who beat you up." He wouldn't have pressed, but he was afraid that whoever it was would come back to try and finish the job, protection from Adam or not.

[stds-r-4-lovers.livejournal.com]

Pestilence squeezed his eyes together. He should have known that Famine wouldn't be satisfied, just like a larder, is old friend woudln't be happy until every last secret was laid bare. He was too tired to skirt the issue, though, so he simply decided to spill it.

"Old god. Calls himself Wednesday. Big mother," he said, tears beginning to gather in his eyes. "He's the adopted brother of the one I love."

Tears started to roll down his cheeks. "Fam, your looking at one of the biggest fools this side of immortality."

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine nodded slightly, deciding that he was going to be keeping an eye out for this Wednesday. He'd probably seen him around the manor, there weren't that many gods around that he was aware of. He patted Pest's hand again, trying to be reassuring, and offered him a handkerchief. "You're not a fool, Pest. Sounds like this Wednesday is, to me." He paused, not sure if the offer would be welcomed since Pest had continued to avoid mentioning a name. "Do you need me to tell your lover where you are?"

[stds-r-4-lovers.livejournal.com]

Pestilence shook his head. "No, I was a fool. Twice. I thought I could win the love of an angel. And I didn't think my influence would hurt him." He turned his head. "Don't tell anyone, Schwartzy, but I fell for an archangel."

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

An archangel? That had been the last thing Famine would have expected, especially considering the animosity Raphael held for the former horseman. "I won't tell anyone." He might not be very good at this whole emotional support thing, but he could do that much at least.

[stds-r-4-lovers.livejournal.com]

Pestilence leaned his forehead against his best friend. It was such a different experience for them. They had always been friends, but personifications always lacked the three-dimensional characteristics of actual people... at least until recently. With Pestilence's retirement, and more recently, Famine and Pollution's love, they had all taken the step towards self-determination.

"Thank you, Schwartzy. It means a lot to me," he said not only meaning Famine's silence, but also for all his help. Without Famine he knew he would be one very dead horseman.

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine smiled and gave him a half hug, all he could really manage with Pest on the bed. "Any time, mate. Just don't scare me like that again, alright?" And he had been scared, especially once he'd had a chance to think, finding his best friend in pieces on the ground was right up there with the discovery of food preservation when it came to things that Famine Does Not Like and would greatly prefer if they never happened again.

[stds-r-4-lovers.livejournal.com]

Pestilence settled back into bed, glad for Famine's company. "Thanks again, mate," Pestilence said, closing his eyes.

"Schwartzy, would you mind staying here until I go to sleep?" He knew it must sound kind of pathetic, but at this point he didn't much care. He was just happy to be with someone that cared about him. The only person, now that Uriel was out of his reach. A tear traced down his cheek as he settled into sleep.

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine squeezed Pestilences hand and smiled reassuringly. "Of course, Pest. Get some rest, you need it." He noticed the tear, but didn't draw attention to it. Instead he settled back into his chair to watch over him, one hand still covering Pestilence's.