by Arithkenshin
Disclaimer: Stop rubbing it in, I don't own them, just playing.
Notes: *glomps* Sol. thanks again hon, for everything, not limited to infinite patience and bounce company while writing. *hugs* CYT btw. *hugs* Casey, *hugs* Trowacko and *hugs* Makoto
~#~ indicates flashback
A delicate hand rested on the door handle, and a frown crossed Relena's face as she turned away. Her mind was working overtime. The Ballroom was rarely used, it was true, but it was also rarely kept dark. The room had felt as if she shouldn't go in there, and so she hadn't, but curiosity had overwhelmed her. She really wanted to know what was in there.
It was only through sheer determination that she managed to turn herself away from the door in search of Uriel. The black-haired Archangel was the first person she remembered after the accident.
A small shiver ran down her spine as she tried to remember anything before that time. It was hard, and all she got were ghostlike memories of shadowed figures and vague events. The blank space in her memory was frustrating. Relena scowled and stopped in her tracks, lost in thought. The voice that spoke to her caused her to jump, not expecting it.
"Relena." The voice was smooth, and mildly condescending. It put her immediately on guard as it continued. "You shouldn't scowl, it'll crease your face. You have such a pretty face." One finger briefly touched her cheek before withdrawing.
"I'm not pretty, Gabriel. I'm normal. Stop the flattery, you know I hate it." Her voice was blunt, but not unkindly so. She took a step away from the golden Archangel. His proximity had never made her feel comfortable. There was something about Gabriel and Michael that made her wary, but she couldn't place the feeling, so she just acted on it as subtly as possible.
A golden smile flashed in her direction. "Where are you going?"
There was a tone underlying his query that was far more than simple curiosity. The question sounded like an interrogation and made her answer cautiously. "I was looking for. Uriel. I'm not sure where to find him today. Would you know where he is?"
Relaxation emanated from Gabriel's body, telling Relena that whatever answer she had given, it had been correct. "He's in the greenhouse." Golden eyes swept over her body, a small grin creeping onto the Archangels face. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to do something else?"
Relena forced a smile onto her face, deliberately appearing not to have noticed the underlying tones to Gabriel's suggestion. "Oh, no! I love the Greenhouse. I've never minded getting my hands dirty."
She was sure Gabriel's face blanched. If she cared, she might have dwelt on the many double meanings her statement could have. Since she didn't care, she simply continued on her search for Uriel. The Ballroom still weighed heavily on her mind.
Treize opened his eyes lazily. He was sitting cross-legged on the lounge chair in Blight's living room. His attempts at contacting his subordinates had been successful and he looked forward to spending the rest of the day trying to figure out what had happened to him.
He had ignored the earlier disturbance knowing that as a lesser, there was no need for him to try and give them aid. Besides, he would probably impede more than aid, considering the entire situation involved a Waking. There were more important things for him to concentrate on. Things that he knew the Fallen needed taken care of, things like one of the power sources.
Although the temples were under his direct supervision, Treize knew that those he had chosen to work for him were fully capable of working without supervision. They too had a vendetta they wished to exact. It was part of what Treize had played on in order to get them to lend him their aid. Being one himself, Treize knew that Demons had their own motivations. He'd just had to find common ground for them to work with. Manipulating others to his will was the talent that had drawn Duo's attention all those years ago. It was a talent Treize knew was highly prized - and one he enjoyed immensely.
He smiled, although it was more like a cold, calculating smirk, and turned his attention inwards. Treize knew that he needed to take stock of the damage he had suffered the previous morning. Like it or not, he knew that something was amiss. He focused on the broiling heat in his body, trying to discern what was happening.
A frown spread across his face as his brain took in the information. His entire system seemed coated in.raw power. He blinked and the frown deepened. The power was feeding him, increasing his capabilities. The pain he could feel came from the veins of power that were being expanded as his abilities reached their culmination.
Treize's cruel smile grew wider. He could feel more power than he had ever had, though he wasn't deluding himself. He knew that the Fallen were in a league of their own. But the Archangels didn't know that Duo's messenger had gained access to increased powers.
A plan began to form in Treize's mind, and the smile on his face grew positively sinister, his blue eyes glowed with an angry red tinge. As the idea developed, a malign aura began to envelop the demon, beginning to show his true form. Treize rose from his seat in one fluid motion, and went searching for his Master.
"They know we're back?" Duo failed to keep the incredulity out of his voice, as he repeated his lover's statement.
"I believe I just said that, Duo." Quatre's tone was just short of snapping at him, and Duo scowled.
"I realise this. It was a rhetorical statement, of which I am sure you are aware." Duo watched Quatre closely, aware of the tension in his lover's body. There was something feeding into him, some emotion from somewhere Duo wasn't aware of. He realised that Dorothy and Hilde had made themselves scarce and so he tried a more intimate way to get Quatre to calm down.
He stepped closer to Quatre, resting a hand on the blond's shoulder, and spoke softly. "How do they know we're back?" They'd been so careful. Quatre's response caught Duo off guard.
The blonde shoved Duo's hand away, causing him to stumble and glared at him. "How should I know? They obviously know we're back, since their void is pointedly blocking us out. You're the one with farsight. You should have seen this coming."
Duo's patience snapped. "Don't take your bad mood out on my good intentions, Quatre." He regretted the words the moment they were out of his mouth. Quatre's expression was shocked, like he'd been slapped. Duo suppressed a groan as he remembered where he had uttered that phrase the last time. He wanted to apologise, a feat very rare for him. Duo took a step forward, but Quatre's eyes stopped him cold.
Blue-green eyes observed him. They were icy, full of disdain and a pain that Duo knew he had inflicted. He reached out a hand to stop Quatre when the blond began to move, but withdrew it when he saw Quatre flinch. "Quatre, I."
Quatre sighed, a portion of the disdain leaking out of his eyes, leaving behind a deeper pain and a tinge of sadness. "Don't, Duo. I'm not . sorted. Don't touch me or. I'll react again." The look of pain was followed by a briefly wistful glance as Quatre let himself fall out of the window and into the gardens.
Duo's shoulders slumped. If Quatre was overwhelmed, it meant he had used his gift and extended it. It meant that he hadn't separated himself completely from the quagmire of feelings he had waded through to gather the information he had. He was feeding off the thousands of feelings from millions of human's and they were all bottled into one being.
Violet eyes closed with a sigh, as Duo remembered the last time he had touched Quatre when the blond wasn't.sorted.
~#~
Quatre was moody, broadcasting his emotions on almost every frequency. Duo couldn't figure out why, and he approached his lover from behind with caution. He gently placed a hand on Quatre's shoulder, and he expected any reaction but that which he got.
A blast of pure emotion smashed Duo backwards, into a wall. He was lucky that his shadows, as always, were near enough to cushion his fall a bit. Rising to his feet with less grace than usual, Duo looked at Quatre in confusion, shaking his head to clear out the foreign feelings. "Now, what the hell was that for?"
Quatre's eyes finally focused on Duo's form and the blond Fallen sank to his knees, closing his eyes. "I scryed. and the connection.its hard to lose. It rarely closes off properly. It. it happens." His voice was so soft and forlorn that Duo barely recognised it, but watched in rapt fascination as he saw his lover give in to the softer side of his nature.
The blond let out a small sob, and the tears started to run down his cheeks. Duo could see the emotions passing through those blue-green eyes, assaulting Quatre's own feelings before leaving room for the next to do the same. The pain and constant battle evident on Quatre's face made Duo move towards his lover. It made Duo want to hold Quatre until it was over.
But the blond scrambled backwards, pure fear on his face. His voice was hoarse and tormented. "Don't come closer. don't touch me, Duo."
Duo felt helpless, he couldn't understand why he couldn't help Quatre. "Why not?" He kept his voice soft, not wanting to seem impatient.
Tears continued to stream down Quatre's face as the emotions assailed his senses. "I'm still scattered. If you touch me, you'll feel this as well."
Duo smiled and moved closer to Quatre, ignoring the pleas his lover was giving him. But Quatre was too weak with the onslaught to protest too much. Duo was willing to go through hell and back for the blond, so he didn't think that sharing feelings would be such a hard thing.
He was wrong.
The moment he touched Quatre, it felt like their skin melded together. Duo was on fire, and it hurt worse than damnation. A scream tore from his throat as he lost who and what he was, into the sea of emotion that sucked him in. There was anger and happiness, sadness and joy, torment and agony, contentment and depression, pain and fury, faith and hope, dejection and misery, angst and loss. The negative far outweighed the positive and it wrenched at Duo's entire being. His soul felt battered, his heart felt bruise and his mind was overcome.
He blacked out.
When he came to, he could feel Quatre brushing sweat-drenched bangs out of his eyes. Duo was lying with his head cradled in Quatre's lap. He didn't open his eyes, but Quatre sensed that he was awake. Duo could feel Quatre shift a little, and then a soft kiss was planted on his forehead. The whisper of Quatre's breath made Duo relax further.
In a voice filled with a weary sadness, Quatre spoke softly to him. "See? It isn't a gift, Duo. It's a curse."
The words made Duo's heart ache for his lover.
~#~
Duo sighed. It was a dangerous position for a Fallen to be in. Curse or not it could still be seen as a weakness, and Quatre couldn't afford that; none of them could. So Quatre would shut himself off and try and block out his gift. It was just that sometimes it didn't work like that; sometimes it was needed. Duo wished he could help Quatre sort himself, but he knew he couldn't. His pain from sharing those engulfing emotions would make Quatre feel guilty and cause him more pain.
So Duo sat down on the window ledge and dangled his legs over the side, balancing precariously. It made him concentrate on something else, something trivial.
Wufei felt Trowa's eyes following his every move. It felt strange to have that sort of attention on a constant basis. He didn't know how he felt about the fact that it didn't seem to bother him like he thought it should. Instead, he actually felt.flattered.
A small smile spread across his face, the expression felt foreign, but it wasn't unwelcome. He could feel Trowa shift behind him, and turned to look at the green-eyed man curiously. "What?"
Trowa chuckled and Wufei could see the way it made Trowa's body ripple. Memories surfaced briefly like a passing cloud in the sky, and Wufei frowned without realising it. It wasn't until Wufei saw Trowa stand up, looking at him in concern, that he realised he was frowning.
He waved a hand dismissively, and forced a more relaxed expression. "No, its nothing. Just fleeting memories I can't quite grasp yet." All Trowa did was nod, and sit back down on the bed, face still creased by a small frown.
"Am I making you.uncomfortable?" Trowa seemed to be searching for the right words to use to describe exactly what he wanted to say. "Would you prefer it if I left?"
Wufei shook his head and approached the bed, reaching out a hand. "No, and no. If I keep fighting this." It was hard for him to say, but he knew the truth in the words he was about to utter. "If I keep fighting this, I will lose myself. It's time I listened to reason.to everyone's."
Trowa took the hand and stood up, looking down slightly. "What would you want to do, then?"
Wufei frowned briefly, considering his options. Reaching his decision he looked up at Trowa, a small smile dancing across his lips. "Remind me of.other things?"
Trowa grinned. "Definitely."
Uriel splayed his fingers in the cold, soft earth. He smiled slightly as he tended the plants in the greenhouse, listening to his brother rant.
Raphael was warming up to the subject matter. "He's taking it too far this time, Uriel. I mean, look at what lengths he's going to."
Uriel sighed and stood, dusting off his hands. The dark Archangel turned to face his brother, who was leaning against one of his experimental tree-breeds. Black eyes glinted thoughtfully, taking in the tension in Raphael's body, noting how much the current situation was grating on his brother's nerves. "So what do you mean by this time?"
Raphael gaped like a fish, before snapping his mouth shut. Uriel managed to suppress a chuckle at the sight, and he pushed his point. "You said that he's taking things too far this time. When has Michael ever done anything by halves, Raphael?"
The Wing Archangel frowned. "Ok, so he's always been melodramatic. It's his flair, part of his power."
This time Uriel did chuckle. "Stop exaggerating. Even you have an underlying respect for him. You wouldn't be here if you didn't." The flat statement let the truth hang in the air, both briefly lost in thought.
"You're right." Raphales subdued voice broke the silence. "But the respect I had is dwindling. We've lost sight of what this should be about. He's solely focused on being the only powerful force. Damn it, Uriel." Raphael's eyes were fiery. "He's blinded himself to what it would mean if we no longer had our counter balance."
Uriel nodded. He had never been an Angel of many words. Raphael's words had truth to them, and Uriel knew it all too well. "We've become complacent. Now we'll reap what we've earned."
Raphael's face blanched. "Do you realise just what we've earned?"
The black haired Angel sighed. "As do most of us. It's the lot we chose, learn to accept it."
"No!" Raphael's voice was angry. Wind whipped through the greenhouse as the Wind Angel momentarily let his gift loose. "No. He's gone beyond the norm, taking liberties we shouldn't, liberties we have no right to. In taking Milliardo, he's gone against yet another rule of our pact."
Uriel regarded his tempestuous brother impassively. "The rules were broken once, brother mine. They are forfeit now."
Zechs's head snapped up as he heard the door open. He hadn't really been sleeping, as it was rather hard to sleep when dangling in the air. His gaze followed the crack of light spreading through the mist in the room, almost scared to focus on the figure closing the door behind it. He didn't know if he could deal with another vision like the one he had earlier.
A pale golden light surrounded the being that walked into the room, and it took a moment for Zechs to realise that it was Michael in his true form. The light emanating from him was almost blinding, and Zechs wished nothing more than to be able to shield his eyes. However, he didn't want to lose sight of Michael, for he no longer trusted and revered the Archangel. There was a voice inside Zechs screaming at him to run, to get out if he could.
The tendrils suspending Zechs began to lower him to the ground, and he had to resist the urge to squirm. Instead, he held his head high and kept his expression defiant as he looked directly into the eyes of his captor.
Michael's smile made Zechs shiver in apprehensive anticipation. Those blue eyes were laced with a malice and disdain that Zechs didn't understand. If he was about to come to the harm he thought he was, Zechs wanted to know why that malevolence was directed at him.
The word fell from his lips almost involuntarily. It was a breathy whisper that didn't quite sound like he remembered his voice to be. "Why?"
Michael's eyes flashed, molten gold cruel in its fiery glow. "Why? You ask why?" An irate sneer crossed Michaels face as his expression grew more furious. "You chose your path. You should no longer exist, damn it. We did everything right! You shouldn't even be a probability. And you ask why?"
The question, just one word, had clearly angered the Archangel, and Zechs couldn't figure out the reason. Even the answer Michael gave only raised more questions in the prince's mind. But then, he didn't really have the presence of mind to try and place anything after that.
A scream erupted from Zechs's throat, as a boiling hot tendril whipped at his flesh. There were things clawing at him, their hot touches searing his flesh while whispers inundated his mind.
Something inside of him broke and Zechs felt himself engulfed by a presence that while completely foreign to him, somehow seemed extremely comforting. It leant him clarity, strength and sanity. He clung to what was proffered as he felt the presence slip away, and he was left with a feeling of safety.
Zechs didn't know what it was. He no longer believed in guardian angels, but it gave him the power he needed to persevere. His tongue bled from biting it to stop from screaming, while his mind refused to focus on the sluggish liquid he could feel beginning to pour from his body. He focused on a single thought as another torturous stroke ripped through his awareness.
If Michael was an Angel, Zechs didn't even want to contemplate what a demon was.
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