neutral_omens | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Time: June 12, 2000 - late afternoon
Place: Hermes' room
Status: Public
Summary: Patheticness.

He stood before the mirror, the blade glinting in the harsh bathroom light, and wondered where to start. His face was pale from too many tears, and he looked bedraggled again, like the homeless boy he had been.

Glittering, glinting...

He pressed it to the skin of his chest, shaking, then set his jaw and lowered his brows.

"I DON'T WANT ONE!" he screamed, slashing over and over, glittering, sky blue pouring all over the white marble tiles. "No more! No more...please..." With a precision that terrified him, he sliced under his ribcage, reaching in as he lay half-curled in his pool of blood.

He marvelled at what a pretty shade of blue his heart was, before the world went black.

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Why? was the only word lodged in Adam's brain as he ran for Hermes' room. Why did they have major crises like this so often? Adam tried to give them free will, he really did, but it was frustrating when they went and did stupid things with it. He charged into the bathroom and picking up the bloody god, carried him swiftly to the hospital, heart still in his hand.

"Gabriel!" he yelled as the entered. "I need your help!" Adam carefully placed Hermes on the nearest bed, trying to get a better glimpse of the damage.

He'd been in the hospital on a whim, with no real purpose other than the vague hopes of soaking up something of what Raphael's more experienced aura had left painted across sterile walls; he might have thought that it was a coincidence, the fact that those few stray moments he'd spent straightening supplies in the back would be just when he heard Adam's hurried footsteps in the hall, followed by an urgent call.

But then, he thought, Adam rarely dealt in coincidence.

He entered the room to find Adam huddled over a slim figure: his gaze was quickly drawn to a gaping wound in the young man's abdomen, and the sickening organ clutched in one hand which the angel did not wish to confirm was a heart. He blinked, horrified to see pale blue liquid oozing from the hollow in the wounded figure's chest, wondering for half a second if the Antichrist was asking him not to heal, but to resurrect...

But there was life here yet, he realized in the next moment; recognition of something much older, much more otherworldly than any mortal.

A noise of disbelief catching in his throat, he turned apprehensive eyes to Adam, awaiting some explanation, some sort of clue. "What on Earth...?"

"Hermes," managed Adam, tired from carrying the god so far, even if he didn't weigh that much. "He cut his own heart out 'cos he was in love with Aziraphale and Aziraphale didn't know and didn't feel the same, anyway. We've gotta help him. What can I do?"

"In love with - ?"

Gabriel shook his head; certain of those statements could be dealt with later. He looked down at the limp deity, focusing on the details: they were dealing with a god, who, despite the unprecedented severity of the wound, was still alive.

He wasn't sure how similar the ancient deities were to angels; whether this was this being's only corporation, or if something that looked this drastic was even enough to kill Hermes. "He's - he's still alive," he said, feeling somewhat dull and useless in the face of this. "Are you doing that, or...?"

Adam shook his head. "I'm not doin' anythin'." He looked up at Gabriel, anxiously. "I'd be afraid of makin' it worse. Maybe we can try takin' care of him the reg'lar way?" He rocked back on his heels, concerned eyes darting between Hermes and Gabriel.

"There's a regular way of taking care of someone who's had their heart torn out?" Gabriel asked caustically, and immediately wished he hadn't. Adam's eyes, when they flicked up to meet his, were filled with such abundant concern that he felt the emotions echoed in his own chest, even for this strange immortal.

Brows knit, he cast a critical glance over the prone form; once he managed to look past the gaping cavity which marked where the blue heart should rest, Gabriel noted that the god seemed to show signs of pain or further injury. Resting a hand on the other's forehead, as much to focus his thoughts as his powers, he confirmed his initial instinct: the being was still alive. Not aware, no, nor in conscious pain, but life flowed steadily through the veins where the seeping blue blood did not.

"Adam," he asked in a calm, deliberate tone, "the Greek gods, can they live when they shouldn't be alive? I mean, without vital organs? Do you remember anything like that?"

Adam's jaw tightened but he didn't say anything while he thought. Gabriel's words had provided something concrete to focus on and now that he'd mentioned it, Adam did recall something about greek gods and organs. What was it? He let his mind drift away, certain that it would provide the answer he was looking for, eventually.

"Prometheus," he finally blurted out. "Not really one of the gods; a giant like Loki. But Zeus chained him to a rock and an eagle pecked out his liver every day for twelve generations until the eagle was killed by Zeus' son Heracles. Does that help?"

"Right," Gabriel said decisively, and set about cleaning the wound as best he could. It didn't make perfect sense - or, well, any kind of sense at all, really - but if one god could live without a liver...

"And he was all right afterward, this Prometheus?" he continued, snatching some antibiotic ointment from a nearby cabinet as he pursued the issue. "It didn't kill him? He just - what, grew another liver?"

"I dunno if he was all right..." said Adam doubtfully. "I mean, that would hurt, I'd guess, or it wouldn't be much of a punishment, but he grew a new liver every day and didn't die. I think at the end he got to go back to Olympus but was still chained to the rock.

He watched Gabriel work, relieved. Hermes wasn't going to die, but he wasn't going to recover quickly either. Maybe that would make him think before he tried such a thing again.

"Well, this one doesn't seem to be in any pain," Gabriel replied with a nod to indicate the unconscious Hermes. He was hesitant, as Adam had voiced earlier, to use his powers to simply heal up the wound, because he feared it would interfere with whatever healing protocol the god already had. He did, however, apply a liberal amount of the ointment to a large sterile pad before placing it over the gaping wound; it seemed like so little, as once again the severity of seeing the niche where a beating heart had once lain struck him.

But at least it was something. Glancing up at Adam as he finished securing the bandage in place, he said unsurely, "So I suppose we'll just... keep an eye on him?"

Adam nodded. "I think that's about all we can do for now. Do you need me to stay? Maybe we can take turns lookin' after him just in case there's an emergency or somethin'..." He didn't know how much more of an emergency there could be, but if the god died because no one had been there to watch him, Adam would be very upset.

Gabriel gave the boy a tight-lipped smile, and, noting the raw look to his eyes, leaned over to put his hand on Adam's shoulder. "I'll stay," he said gently. "You go. Get some rest, perhaps."

Adam smiled back faintly. "I will. But I'll be back soon to check on him and so that you can take a break. Thanks, Gabriel."

With that, he headed back to his room for a nap. He wasn't sure how late he'd be up that night, so he thought he might as well sleep now.

Gabriel pulled a chair over to the slender blue figure's bedside and settled down to wait, trying not to remind himself that he in fact had absolutely no idea what he was waiting for.

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