comedianhealer: (that's not a plane that's me)
Raphael ([personal profile] comedianhealer) wrote in [personal profile] impudentsongbird 2013-02-21 07:21 am (UTC)

Part of Raphael wanted to argue. There was shock value and there was shock value--Rafe had done what he'd done, how he'd done it, because he was angry, no other reason. That was ... well, not unforgivable, to be honest. Arguing was only being a hypocrite: pretending his guilt was worth as much as Skulduggery's own.

With an air of relief, still looking somewhat shamefaced, Rafe said softly, "You're welcome."

He was extremely aware of Merlin's shocked soul brewing in the background. The way the Ancient was wrestling with that little bombshell he'd dropped. An Archangel, giving a mortal his own name. Not just any--Gabriel. Their Lord's closest companion. It was just like him and something no one would even remotely imagine happening at once.

Still, Rafe felt he would have much rathered answer the questions swirling in Merlin's being than have Gabriel return when he did. At least it wasn't a few seconds earlier, but it was still so close on the feels of recent events that the instant Gabriel entered the room he zeroed in on Raphael, a slight frown crinkling his brow as he felt his brother's guilt.

'Rafe, what did you do?'

Raphael paused only for a moment before reluctantly showing him the memory. Gabe's eyes widened slightly and for a moment he looked as if he wasn't sure what to do about it, if anything, before he consciously relaxed. He mustered a reassuring smile and his wings brushed across the backs of Rafe's in silent forgiveness.

"Actually," Solomon murmured, "it was more what happened during the torture than the actual torture."

His face had turned, almost like drawn, toward Raphael. Rafe looked at him in turn and all of a sudden felt very small beside that gold-burning soul. Not guilty, but humbled. Here he was concerned for a very minor trespass for which Skulduggery gave him no blame, and which Gabriel apparently didn't either, while Solomon Wreath was laid bare to his most brilliant core after having, almost literally, been through Hell.

Rafe meant to say something, but then Erskine's words sank in.

"Gabe did what?" he echoed in surprise, and Merlin's voice had joined with his. Gabe's cheeks reddened.

"It wasn't exactly blackmail," he mumbled as he crossed to the exam table Kenspeckle was pointing to, even as the professor rummaged around his cabinets, grumbling. "It was more just ... pointing out some facts that Tenebrae had apparently overlooked in his eagerness."

Merlin was staring, still looking shellshocked, his expression and tone a mixture of wonder and disconcert. "Only a year and I almost don't recognise you at all, Gabriel."

He didn't say it out loud, but the stunned memory of what Rafe had said was still forefront in his being, and Gabe's blush deepened. He didn't quite look at anyone as he laid Solomon down, very carefully. "You can put that jar down, Erskine. Gently."

Gently. Abruptly Raphael sobered, crossing over to where Solomon lay and taking the man's hand, the one not occupied with holding one of their Lord's bears. He took the burden of the pain from Gabe, allowing the other Archangel to step back, closer to Skulduggery, without quite yet leaving Solomon's side. "Don't think you know everyone here, man," Rafe said with a grin that made Solomon smile back without thinking. "I'm Rafe. The old jailbird over there is Merlin."

He jerked his head at the Ancient and Merlin's focus snapped together. "I beg your pardon. Who was it who tripped over a dimensional boundary and fell into that Gaol? It certainly wasn't me."

Bingo. "Sure, you can go ahead and beg, old man." Rafe turned his grin on the Ancient, broad and teasing. "Don't suppose you can grovel at my feet while you're at it?"

"Only in your dreams, angel," Merlin shot back. "If you had any, at least. I suppose you'll just have to continue on deprived, in that case."

Solomon's breath hitched as he laughed, breathless and quiet with his weariness, but in a way that made the golden beams of his soul seem to wash over everything in the room.

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