let me be the one you call / if you jump I'll break your fall

[impudentsongbird]

Book Four: Dark Days
1 | into the breach
2 | finding skulduggery
3 | retreat to the tunnels
4 | into the cacophony
5 | sanctuary in the cathedral
6 | reuniting old friends
7 | kenspeckle's new patient
8 | holy water and disinfectant
9 | objecting to china sorrows
10 | the roadtrip
11 | baffling guild
12 | shenanigans at the safehouse
13 | reassuring fletcher
14 | valkyrie's intervention
15 | solomon's revelation
16 | visiting the edgleys
17 | recalled to the sanctuary
18 | guild's confusion
19 | gabe is busted
20 | the psychic tattoist
21 | envisioning the cacophony
22 | angel's first migraine
23 | the morning after
24 | china and solomon
25 | detectives' council of war
26 | china's foolishness
27 | the collector dethroned
28 | finding crux
29 | skulduggery's vileness revealed
30 | sorrows in aftermath
31 | finding equilibrium
32 | the devil's number
33 | at the carnival
34 | meeting authorities
35 | solomon's confession
36 | the stray soul
37 | sanguine unsettled
38 | solomon's choice
39 | a cowboy underground
40 | in scarab's basement
41 | striking midnight
42 | craven contested
43 | emergency services
44 | on your feet
45 | and don't stop moving
46 | easy recognition
47 | a deuce of an evening
48 | engines roaring
49 | compromising judgements
50 | solomon's conflict
51 | axis turning
52 | thinking circular
53 | blasting the past
54 | reviling vile

Book Five: Mortal Coil
55 | sanctuary unsanctified
56 | shudder unravelling
57 | catching an angel
58 | layering dimensions
59 | dead men meeting
60 | when it rains
61 | power plays
62 | sing on gold
63 | the valley of death
64 | grand aspersions
65 | no evil feared
66 | new days rising
67 | angelic neuroses
68 | step-brothers working
69 | the many sorrows of china
70 | peacefully wreathed
71 | tarnished gold
72 | the secret in darkness
73 | magical intent
74 | scars worth keeping
75 | benefits of a beau
76 | grand magery
77 | lighting the darkness
78 | old dogs and new tricks
79 | flouting traditions
80 | drawing lines
81 | brothers and sisters in arms
82 | channelling angels
83 | return of the carnies
84 | the death bringers
85 | meriting agelessness
86 | knick knack, paddy
87 | give a dog a bone
88 | americans propheteering
89 | the right side of honour
90 | tailored shocks
91 | hosting angels
92 | elders anonymous
93 | rediscovered strays
94 | changings and changelings
95 | a state of reflection
96 | adding hope
97 | the devil's truth
98 | dead mens' hospitality
99 | lives half lived
100 | next to godliness
101 | devilish plans
102 | beached angels
103 | lights of revelation
104 | heroes worshipped
105 | new devilries
106 | angels under the yoke
107 | brains frozen
108 | father, mother, daughter
109 | parental guidance recommended
110 | driven round the bend
111 | ongoing training
112 | privileged information
113 | reasonable men
114 | passing the buck
115 | gifting magicks
116 | strengths and weaknesses
117 | immaturity's perks
118 | priests and prophets
119 | scaling evil
120 | blowing covers
121 | marring an afternoon
122 | lie detection
123 | five-dimensional pain
124 | reliving nightmares
125 | taking stock
126 | sampling spices
127 | sleeping prophets lying
128 | rueful returns
129 | dead men reunion
130 | medically-approved hugs

The life of an angel was a contradiction in changes and stability. On one hand, they understood very well the way the cosmos was shaped by events within it. On the other, they stood at one step apart from it—or at least had, for a very long time, up until their Master's recent wager with Lucifer. Changes in the recent past had, even for angels, been fast and turbulent, but there were none that concerned Raphael more than Gabriel's abrupt reserve.

In the aftermath of the wager Gabriel had been almost the only one to know where their Lord was at any given time, a fact which had put the Archangel very firmly under Lucifer's radar. Raphael had joked that Gabriel ought to arm himself with more jokes or worse clothes to drive the fallen angel away; Michael had offered the peace of the Garden Coast. (Rafe thought his idea was better.)

Either way, even though their Master was fair hidden, every angel knew that they had only to ask Gabriel and the Archangel would pass on a message.

Then Gabriel had simply blipped off the radar himself. Poof! Gone! No one had noticed at first, because, well, they weren't exactly in constant connection. It was just when Raphael had taken a whim to seek out his younger brother that he'd noticed it, and let it be, because there was absolutely a reason for it. Gabe did not just off and vanish, except that once with his self-exile, and that didn’t count.

But when Gabriel had come back, he had been strangely agitated and yet close-mouthed. The younger Archangel had vanished off to wherever their Master was hidden for a long chat Raphael was dying to have listened into, and yet couldn't (but only partly because it would have been rude). Now he was here, floating among the stars and examining a black hole with unnerving intensity.

For a time Raphael watched without letting on that he was there, but eventually Gabriel spoke. “I’d rather you came to join me instead of lurking, brother.”

Absolutely refusing to feel chagrined, Raphael let himself manifest with an arm around Gabriel’s shoulders and ruffled the younger angel’s hair. Gabriel threw a fond, longsuffering glance up at him, but there was something in his eyes, something distracted and sharp, which indicated that Gabriel still wasn’t truly present. Raphael only wished he knew where the other Archangel was.

“Just wondering what you’re doin’ all the way out here,” he said teasingly. “There’s a party going on down there on Earth, Gabe.” There was always a party going on down on Earth. “You oughta be down there bobbin’ for apples and switching up party-hats!”

“I can’t,” Gabriel said quietly, with a sort of seriousness Raphael had, for all Gabriel’s literalness, rarely heard from him. So Raphael fell into the same seriousness, lost his playful accent, and spoke directly.

“Why not, brother? You’ve been reserved of late. I conf—I’m worried for you.”

For a very long time Gabriel said nothing and stared into the slow-turning swirl of the black hole. Raphael waited patiently, his arm still companionably across the other Archangel’s shoulders. Eventually Gabriel spoke. “Did you know, Raphael,” he said, “that the universe you see around you here isn’t the only one our Master has created?”

Raphael was so startled that he couldn’t answer. That wasn’t what he was imagining. He hadn’t been sure what he’d been imagining, but that wasn’t it. “I’m not sure what you mean, Gabriel,” he said after a moment. “Our Lord told me the story of Creation not all that long ago, and he never mentioned anything of the kind.”

Gabriel nodded. “He told me that story as well. And then He asked if I really wanted to know details.” He hesitated. “I … admit, I declined. It’s something He said—about faith. I decided I didn’t need to know details. But it’s true, nevertheless. Just beyond this …” The Archangel reached out his hand and touched that gossamer and unbreakable fabric that supported reality. “There are other universes, even with different versions of us.”

“Different versions of us?” Raphael repeated, appalled and uncertain and entirely confused. How could that be possible? What could their Master want with more than one of any of them? What was going on? Where had Gabriel gone in that time he’d vanished? Then something occurred to him and he smiled with relief. “This is a joke, right?”

Gabriel looked up at him and smiled back with such a gentle understanding that for a moment Raphael felt very small indeed. “No, Rafe. I’m not joking. It was a shock to me too. That isn’t the point, though.”

“Isn’t it?” Raphael asked, feeling as dazed as an angel possibly could, especially when he wasn’t even inhabiting an actual physical body.

“No.” Gabriel returned to watching the black hole intently. “I met some people from other realities. One of them is in a kind of Hell, and he very much does not deserve it. I promised him that, if I could, I would save him from it.”

Which did not in the least explain why Gabe was staring at a black hole, let alone a million other questions Raphael would have liked to ask and for which he couldn’t find the words. Finally he found one. “How?”

“First,” Gabriel said with a sort of tranquillity Raphael had heard in his brother’s voice a million times but never after delivering so turbulent a piece of news, “I’m going to jimmy open a crack in the door through this hole.”

Raphael stared at Gabe, and then at the black hole, and then back at Gabe. He opened his mouth to ask whether their Master knew he was planning this and then closed it, because that was a stupid question. He opened it again to query if Gabriel had asked whether he could go around lifting the sheets and then realised that was also a stupid question, because whether he had or not, their Master probably would have told him to do what he felt was best.

It was equally clear that Gabriel very much planned to go through with this, no matter what Raphael said, and really, did Raphael have the right to object? Surely if this carried a risk, their Master would have already forbidden Gabriel from making the attempt?

“I’ll come with,” Raphael said at last, and this time when Gabriel glanced back the younger Archangel’s expression was startled. A moment later that expression shifted into grateful apology.

“I’m sorry, Rafe, but I’m not entirely certain I’ll make it through, and we can hardly leave Michael here alone.” He grinned. “Did you see what he was wearing last festival day on the Garden Coast? He hasn’t moved out of the eighteenth century yet. How would he possibly handle the rest of the world?”

Raphael laughed out loud, warm but startled, and the sound of it rang through space. Gabriel chuckled quietly beside him, and for a few minutes there was just companionable humour that faded into an equally comfortable silence.

Still, Raphael had a lot of questions. How did Gabriel plan to find his friend, let alone the universe he was in? How was he going to get back? What would he do if he met another version of himself? Or, worse, Lucifer? Finally the Archangel just asked, “Have you figured out how to crack open the door?”

“I think so,” Gabriel said, considering the black hole. “Once I figured out what to look for. I wouldn’t have gotten even that far if it weren’t for some things our Master said.”

Which meant that, in some fashion, this expedition was sanctioned by their Master, Raphael translated, and something tense in him relaxed. “Something do to with this drain here, I’ll bet,” he said, falling into his casual accent once more. “Gonna rip out the kitchen sink, li’l brother?”

“Just to see what’s hiding underneath,” Gabriel said with a grin.

“I’ll try’n keep it open for ya,” Raphael promised, and Gabriel sent him a smile which lit up the very space around them with its brilliance.

“Thank you, Rafe,” he said, and straightened. Raphael took his arm away as Gabriel lifted his hands, not exactly stepping back so much as giving Gabriel space. The youngest Archangel didn’t often reveal his power, but it was always a sight to see, a song to hear, when he did.

As it was now. Gabriel’s voice started deep, lifted high, split and wove and became more melodies than one would think a single being could possibly sing at once. The sound of it made Raphael’s heart soar, made him want to fly and laugh. It was so deep, so light, so resonating that it was physical; it touched the slow turn of the black hole and made it, for just the briefest of moments, still. In that moment Gabriel sent a carefully-aimed bolt of energy into the heart of it.

It was the kind of sight Raphael hadn’t seen in thousands of years, a play of physics and metaphysics which he hadn’t thought possible, let alone imagined. There was an eruption in the centre of the black hole, where gravity was condensed; the cascade of energy plumed upward and was dragged back down as quick, a tear in the fabric of the reality not allowed the time to widen or become a danger.

Raphael didn’t even know Gabe had moved until the younger Archangel was gone, he was so busy staring in awe. With a start the Archangel stretched out his senses and just barely managed to catch a glimpse of his brother shooting toward the hole at speeds few angels could have achieved through such a gravity well. Raphael certainly couldn’t have.

How, he suddenly wondered, was he meant to keep that open if he didn’t even have the speed of thought to track Gabriel’s movements through it?

Desperately the Archangel cast about for something to jam in the door, as it were. There was some dark matter nearby and with a thought he fashioned it into a spear and pitched it toward the centre of the black hole. It struck just as Gabriel flitted through the crack nearly wholly collapsed in on itself; the star’s gravity caught it, pulled it in, and plugged the opening like a metaphysical sink.

Slowly Raphael made every part of himself relax. For good or ill, Gabe was gone on this quest of his, and now Raphael should probably go and round up some of their younger siblings to guard the area. Just in case.


Book Four: Dark Days
into the breach | finding skulduggery | retreat to the tunnels | into the cacophony | sanctuary in the cathedral | reuniting old friends | kenspeckle's new patient | holy water and disinfectant | objecting to china sorrows | the roadtrip | baffling guild | shenanigans at the safehouse | reassuring fletcher | valkyrie's intervention | solomon's revelation | visiting the edgleys | recalled to the sanctuary | guild's confusion | gabe is busted | the psychic tattoist | envisioning the cacophony | angel's first migraine | the morning after | china and solomon | detectives' council of war | china's foolishness | the collector dethroned | finding crux | skulduggery's vileness revealed | sorrows in aftermath | finding equilibrium | the devil's number | at the carnival | meeting authorities | solomon's confession | the stray soul | sanguine unsettled | solomon's choice | a cowboy underground | in scarab's basement | striking midnight | craven contested | emergency services | on your feet | and don't stop moving | easy recognition | a deuce of an evening | engines roaring | compromising judgements | solomon's conflict | axis turning | thinking circular | blasting the past | reviling vile

Book Five: Mortal Coil
sanctuary unsanctified | shudder unravelling | catching an angel | layering dimensions | dead men meeting | when it rains | power plays | sing on gold | the valley of death | grand aspersions | no evil feared | new days rising | angelic neuroses | step-brothers working | the many sorrows of china | peacefully wreathed | tarnished gold | the secret in darkness | magical intent | scars worth keeping | benefits of a beau | grand magery | lighting the darkness | old dogs and new tricks | flouting traditions | drawing lines | brothers and sisters in arms | channelling angels | return of the carnies | the death bringers | meriting agelessness | knick knack, paddy | give a dog a bone | americans propheteering | the right side of honour | tailored shocks | hosting angels | elders anonymous | rediscovered strays | changings and changelings | a state of reflection | adding hope | the devil's truth | dead mens' hospitality | lives half lived | next to godliness | devilish plans | beached angels | lights of revelation | heroes worshipped | new devilries | angels under the yoke | brains frozen | father, mother, daughter | parental guidance recommended | driven round the bend | ongoing training | privileged information | reasonable men | passing the buck | gifting magicks | strengths and weaknesses | immaturity's perks | priests and prophets | scaling evil | blowing covers | marring an afternoon | lie detection | five-dimensional pain | reliving nightmares | taking stock | sampling spices | sleeping prophets lying | rueful returns | dead men reunion | medically-approved hugs

Comments

[comedianhealer]

There was an answer to that, but since it wasn't a question asked out loud, Raphael let it pass by. The rules had changed once people knew they existed. Before, answering unspoken questions in some fashion was the only means they had to answer them at all; now, waiting until they were actively asked seemed like the best way to avoid too much interference--which, regardless of his usual actions, Raphael agreed with his brothers was necessary.

It would just be self-policed in a way none of them had ever expected before.

Besides, that silent question aside, the one Skulduggery was really asking was far more important. The Archangel was taken by surprise by the sudden blast of anger, and before he could control himself his eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean, Skulduggery?" Merlin asked, regarding the skeleton with confused patience.

"I know," Rafe cut in tersely, and Merlin's head snapped around to look at him in surprise. Raphael didn't look back. He was too busy wrestling with that upsurge of anger, even while he came nearer to where the skeleton stood. Even so, his voice was tightly controlled--but furious. "My brother gave you his NAME."

"He what?" Merlin's startled voice was a background noise. Raphael ignored it.

"This is exactly what I was talking about in the car. There is no manipulation of that kind. There will never be any manipulation of that kind. You know that, and yet here you are: asking me if Gabriel would make you feel things because you are so bound up in neuroses you cannot help but wonder."

It wasn't just the fear of what Skulduggery was suggesting. It was that Skulduggery was expecting, assuming, that it was a foregone conclusion. That was the part that made the Archangel so angry--that Skulduggery would bend to his own neuroses enough to assume that Gabriel, the gentlest and most loving of them all, would actually be capable of such a thing.

Under any other circumstance, Raphael would understand. He would. But this was Gabriel, and Raphael was finding he was far less objective when things came to his loving, reckless little brother. The worst part was that he knew his words would do nothing to convince Skulduggery of anything at all, except that he wasn't worthy. The fear wasn't worthy, not Skulduggery, but he was so busy chaining himself to his guilt that he couldn't tell the difference between the two.

So in a fit of recklessness worthy of Gabriel, Raphael showed him.

"Hey there, li'l bro, what's cookin'?" Raphael appeared suddenly with his arm around Gabriel's shoulders, sudden enough that the younger Archangel actually looked startled. Rafe was prepared to feel smug, except that startle segued easily into amused incredulity.

"What was that? That wasn't any accent I've ever heard."

"I was experimenting," Rafe admitted, torn between chagrin and amusement, and wound up simply laughing as he sat beside his brother on the middle rung of the H in the HOLLYWOOD sign. The Archangel looked down at the city sprawled beneath them, all shining into the night sky like a reflection of a much more rainbow-coloured moon. "What are you doing here? After--"

He cut himself off, surprised by the sudden well of emotion. After so long away from our Master, I would have thought you'd want to stay close.

Gabe heard it anyway and shifted a little nearer, enough to press their shoulders together. "I needed to think," he said softly. "After some things He said. I didn't want to ask Him more about them because, well ..."

"We're meant to be thinking for ourselves?" Raphael finished for him, and Gabe nodded. The younger Archangel looked at him with puzzlement in his eyes.

"But there's something else I've been wondering, Rafe. You've taken to ... all this ... so well. You weren't even involved in the wager, but you don't seem to be finding this hard at all. Your horrible accents notwithstanding."

The last was said dryly, with a fleeting grin. Rafe grinned back before sobering. "He didn't have anyone to talk to while you were gone, Gabe. I think He was lonely without you. So He came to me, and there were some things He said--I didn't understand them at all, at the time. But now I do."

He didn't wait for Gabe to ask before sending over the memory; the question was in his brother's face, as was the uncertainty over whether he should ask.

In real time, the here and now, Raphael dulled that memory-within-a-memory for Skulduggery. Most of it was private, but there was one thing--just one--which was relevant, and that, Rafe let Skulduggery see.

He wouldn't usually have done this. He wouldn't usually have done this at all. But Skulduggery needed to understand why Gabriel would never, ever do what the detective was thinking. Know it, understand it, not merely think it and then continue to worry. Gabriel's name should have been enough, but apparently it wasn't, and some part of Rafe was angry enough to hit Skulduggery a bludgeon.

Enough that he showed more than, perhaps, he intended or was wise.

"You know how much time I spent down here trying to fix the massive neurosis Lucifer had inflicted on those sad innocents, but they were too convinced I was angry at them to trust Me. I tried reassuring them. I tried jokes. I even tried punishing them, hoping they'd feel expiated and leave it behind. But nothing worked ... and that's when it hit Me, Rafe."

They were on a snow-capped mountain, a strong wind all around them, enough to make the mountain groan. Yet in spite of that, the Creator's voice was the thing most solid in the memory, audible over everything, as if everything else were simply background. That voice, glowing with excitement.

"I remember standing on a hill one day, watching them burn down each other's little villages, all trying to shove their own shame onto others' shoulders, just as Lucifer had done to them, and suddenly thinking, "Oh my God! They really are totally out of control! Even Mine! Raphael, awful as I felt about what they were doing, I could not have been happier about what they were! I swear, Rafe, if Lucifer could have just stopped trying to eradicate his shame by getting rid of them all, I might have invited him back with open arms and a hero's welcome!

"Of course, this hardly excused Me from addressing all the damage My own angel had inflicted. So I hung around, trying to shove them back on course: forcing them to apologise when they'd maimed someone, thwarting their little wars, telling them over and over that they couldn't be God no matter how angry they were, scaring the crap out of them when it was necessary. Let's face it, Rafe, I was a world-class party pooper, and yet the most amazing thing happened. A few of the little buggers began to get what I was after, and, Rafe, they liked Me!"

The smile. The child-like smile of wonder, a silly little smile of a kid who had been all alone for a very long time and was all of a sudden invited to a party. That smile, and those tears. "Love. My greatest creation took Me by surprise."

"But ... I do not mean to contradict You, Master," Raphael said, and in the memory his own voice sounded disconcerted. Hesitant, at a loss, no idea what was going on or why his Master should look like that. "But how could Your own creation take You by surprise?"

"Oh, I created the things that created love, but while I was more than able to make them obey Me, nobody made them like Me, not even Me! This wasn't just an empty imitation. It was the real thing! Don't you see? They chose, Rafe. Well, I saw right off that the whole thing had to stay free, or none of it would be real. You can't control the bad stuff and pretend the rest is spontaneous. So I backed off. I still do what I can, of course. I'm not one to leave the building before the fire's out, especially when I helped set it. But even knowing too certainly that I exist would kill the whole thing. Like what you said earlier, why would you lie to Me? Why would you try? You wouldn't, even though you could. And I don't really want you lying to Me, Rafe, but in another way, you'll never love Me the way they do--the ones that do love Me, at least."

The rest of the memory-inside-the-memory faded deliberately into background noise, but in the memory Gabriel heard it all and had tears in his eyes.

"He's right," said the Archangel, and there was a mix of misery and wonder in his voice. "All this time and we were never what He really wanted. I--"

He was cut off by the sudden arm around his shoulders again, by Raphael pulling him in for a sideways hug. "You know that's not what He meant, little brother," Rafe said, a little gruff because of the tears in his own eyes. "We're capable of it, just like them. We just didn't know it, and couldn't until we'd figured it out on our own. But that's why I don't seem to be having as much trouble as you." He smiled through the tears. "Though you're better off than me, you know. You've already experienced what it means to love Him without being asked. I haven't, yet. I just know ... because He told me."

For a very long time, long enough that night had turned to day had turned to night again, they sat in mutual, silent contemplation of the cityscape below and their own existence. Then, abruptly, Gabriel laughed, and there was such a wealth of understanding in that laugh that Raphael almost laughed with him. "Do you remember that pair of sisters? The doctor that wouldn't stop praying to you, and the aimless student who was always jeering about her sister's piety but at night, she'd write those little stories about you?"

For a moment Raphael looked at him, nonplussed, before the memory clicked and he laughed. "Do I! Some of those stories were amazing. Completely wrong, but so funny."

Gabriel grinned. "You spent so much time with the first sister because she was always asking you for help during surgeries."

"But it was the second sister I liked being with more," Raphael said quietly, Gabriel's meaning hitting him like a lightning-bolt of intent. "Because even though she didn't believe I existed, she still liked me. For me."

"I think that's probably what it's like, Rafe." Gabriel leaned into him, resting his head on Raphael's shoulder. "We've all had people like that, haven't we? People who think they have to like us just because of what we are, and then the people who really do."

"I think you're probably right." Raphael looked back toward Los Angeles, still smiling.

When the memory ended, Raphael looked silently at Skulduggery, and didn't hide the tears on his cheeks.