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[ Michael has never been good at dealing with grief. He's never been one to reach out to his brothers, even in the worst of times he was ever the soldier, and restoring order to the chaos had been his way of coping with it. If he was an unshakable pillar of faith and purpose, the other angels would fall in behind him. That's how it worked.
That's how it was.
But not with Gabriel. He had always been more like Lucifer, to Michael's eyes, so much so sometimes that it was hard to hide how painful that reminder was.
He doesn't speak. It's just an open channel, reaching out through the space that separates them. There's only an uncharacteristically quiet feeling that echoes through it.
[ The probably is that Gabriel didn't need a pillar or a general or whatever Michael thought he should be once Dad had gone. He needed a brother that wasn't distant and daunting. But that wasn't in Michael's nature, it's not his fault.
Like it's not his fault that Gabriel can't cope with this. How can it be gone? It can't actually be not there any more. He doesn't remember a time before Creation, he doesn't remember anything but being surrounded by wonderful things and places and amazing creatures.
Michael is a strange angel- harsh and sharp and unwavering, but not deliberately cruel. Gabriel feels the line reach out to him, finding its way like a look thread in the wind.
Time isn't real here, or in Hell itself, but Gabriel doesn't know how long it is before he reaches out to touch that thread. Most of the crying has stopped, his wings have stopped bleeding from where he pulled his feathers out. He feels calm, or maybe it's empty. He doesn't know which it is.
We're all alone together now. Does that make it easier?]
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voice (sort of)
That's how it was.
But not with Gabriel. He had always been more like Lucifer, to Michael's eyes, so much so sometimes that it was hard to hide how painful that reminder was.
He doesn't speak. It's just an open channel, reaching out through the space that separates them. There's only an uncharacteristically quiet feeling that echoes through it.
You are not alone, Brother.
Not in this place, not in the sorrow. ]
no subject
Like it's not his fault that Gabriel can't cope with this. How can it be gone? It can't actually be not there any more. He doesn't remember a time before Creation, he doesn't remember anything but being surrounded by wonderful things and places and amazing creatures.
Michael is a strange angel- harsh and sharp and unwavering, but not deliberately cruel. Gabriel feels the line reach out to him, finding its way like a look thread in the wind.
Time isn't real here, or in Hell itself, but Gabriel doesn't know how long it is before he reaches out to touch that thread. Most of the crying has stopped, his wings have stopped bleeding from where he pulled his feathers out. He feels calm, or maybe it's empty. He doesn't know which it is.
We're all alone together now. Does that make it easier?]