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mekachu04this was not Lucifer's fight, for once; crowley was not one of his anymore, so he really had nothing invested in this face off. just, more angels fighting among themselves, and for once, his influence had no part. But Amenadiel was his brother; and it was more than just a word now, but a true part of his family. Crowley and Aziraphale were only involved because Amenadiel had appught them out for help with charlie; Lucifer's own nephew. But crowley had /begged/ for help, and Aziraphale , the definition of ;stiff upper lip' had been quite a dear during the whole ordeal, and it was actually quite nice to dine out with an angel who actually and truly appreciated fine dining.
Also, he was still at odds with Michael over his own banashiment, and then to find out that hey /used/ Amenadiel, /used/ his fear over charlie to trick Aziraphale and crowley out of hiding, before trying to destroy not only the do but to turn on Amenadiel too.
He could walk away from this. It wasn't his fight.
But then he was Gabrial, healed and smug, looking down at crowley with his first tightening on his sword. he saw Sandlephon looking at Aziraphale like he could wait to finish the job he'd started.
He looked at the way michael sneared down at Amenadiel. Judging him.
Angels he vaguely remembered, some standing at arms behind Micheal. Others, rallying behind Amenadiel.
Is this how it felt in heaven, to be one of those on the sidelines; told to defend God without having been told why. To look between two of the highest angels and to take up arms for one of them, without being told which one. How many of Lucifer's Fallen where only there because they didn't know the stakes. They didn't know michael OR lucifer at all. When told defend God, chose Lucifer because was he not God's favoiute, surely to defend him is to defend God?, only to be thrown out of the silver city once the fighting ended because they'd chosen the wrong side for the right reasons?
Maybe Lucifer deserved his punishment, but had they?
Had Crowley?
Did the angels following michael deserve to fall when Amenadiel won this fight? Despite Lucifer's opinion on gabriel and sandalphon, did he want them to fall - did he want them to be his subjects for eternity. Did Amenadiel deserve to fall?
Would Lucifer had accepted Amenadiel into his ranks if he Fell in the beginning. Could he subjugate his brother, should he fall now?
War cries.
Swords Clashing.
It was the field in england a few weeks ago.
It was the streets of heaven a few millinia ago.
it would be golden angelic blood forever staining the ground under his feet all over again. Los Angeles would be another place filled with the loss of more of his family.
Hell... Hell would be prefered to this.
His silver tongue seemed heavy in his mouth, his arms heavy at his sides. He'd only ever been good at starting fights. how does he stop one?
He's never known how to stop the fight once it got going. all he knew was to buckle down harder.
Mazikeen was at his side; a gentleness to her that did not belong as she stood at his right. His most trusted. His only trusted. But not the only one that would still stand at his side.
He pulled them up now from his court. His loyal. The ones that did /not/ understand him, but never question him. Never judged, just blind loyalty since the beginning.
One, by one, by one; dragging them to earth. His army as his side.
His demon didn't deserve was was going to happen. they never did. but neither did the angels about to slaughter each other because michael said so.
No shame for a demon to die trying to take down an angel; they'd be remembered in hell's court for eternity. ballads of their braver in battle would keep them alive sould they fall today.
No shame for an angel to die trying to slay a demon. They would rest in Her Glory for eternity, there would be no question of loyalty; no Fall after should they survive their injuries today.
Michael wanted bloodshed. Well, was it not his role to provide?
Amenadiel caught his gaze across the field; his face open and distraught, desperately trying to call off his supporters. Dear Amenadiel, ready to fight Heaven, but hesitant to fight Hell.
"Be merciful." he told mazikeen, "quick and clean. do not let them linger long enough to fall."
She didn't voice any questions, but she did look at him.
"They don't deserve Hell. and the ones that do, I don't want them"
-
It would not solve anything. not in the long run.
But in the short run, it left michael too disorganised to lash out at Amenadiel on a large scale again. Lucifer did not give any orders on which side to target; mazikeen had seen what he did not want to ask for, and he'd directed the demons to target michael's angels harder, even if they'd failed to take down any of the stronger angels.
Only foot soldiers, slaughtered pointlessly. they would have died either way that day, were prepared too. but how many had been relieved to die fighting demons instead of brothers.
Aziraphale had arrived imdeiatly at lux afterward, offering assistance to Lucifer's wounded. his miracles may not affect demons, but he moved with the ease of someone who has moonlighted on many battlefields as a field medic through a long range of human history. even if sending the demon's back to hell would help them more than letting them lingur, lucifer idi not offer it to any but the most fatally wounded.
The demons openly googled at Aziraphale's presence. the angel needed this, this act of penance. but maybe seeming him humble himself to them would help Lucifer's loyal too.
They did not understand Lucifer's fascination with humans. But if they could at least understand it was humans that brought an angels to his knees before them, maybe they could see that there was something to earth, even if they could not see what.
He could not miracle wounds closed, could not miracle demonic essence back into demonic cores. but in lifetimes working closely with humans, he'd learned how to encourage healing without humans noticing at all. He;d been reprimanded enough about mirnile use over the centuries to learn the line between a mircle, and a blessing. Miracles must be reported, there was a paper trail involved. blessings though. blessings where not pulling heaven down, but instead overing human's up. micicles must be approved by head office. blessings where on offering to the almighty for Her favour, not heavans. Aziraphale had figured out how to bless bandages to hold fast and sure, bless them to prevent infections and encourage faster healing. He'd learned to bless food to be more nurasing for faster healing, bless wine to ease pain from a battered body (he'd blessed the bentley to always keep crowley safe; she's already been on board with the idea, but the extra juice had been welcome)
Lucifer watched the angel, watched him begin to lag, but made no effort to stop him. Crowley watched from the other side of the room, alert and guared, but also made no effort to stop Aziraphale . Mazikeen was the last demon he checked on, the one needed the least amount of help. He fussed over her nonetheless, and she did allow him to bless her jacket when he was sure she was okay, when she assured him the cut on her face was nothing, and that if it *did* scar, it would look pretty bad-ass, so hse wanted to keep it.
The angel then tried to turn his blessing to Lucifer himself, the devil guided the exhausted angel over to where crowley stood in the shadows. "Spend the night, rest up. the room's just as you left it. tomorrow we'll see about getting you two back home finally."
He couldn't help but linger. His corporation might look a decade younger than the two before him, but when he looked past that, saw the tired, war weary forms of two celectail children. Aziraphale, an angel who still believed in God's ineffable plan, still loved Her even when heaven hated him, and Crolwey, a demon who still looked at the universe like it was wonderful and new, and fell because he couldn't understand why if small actions had such explosive consicensives, that no one was warned of it first. Ageless warriors and children wondering if they are loved all in the same form.
He pulled each being close, Aziraphale's injured arm tucked against his left side, crowley under his right, his bad eye pering up over the frame of his newest pair of shades. Lucifer didn't manifest his wings; he didn't need to. the gesture of protection was there, both to the demons in the room, and the the pair at his sides.
he cast his own suggestion over them; no more worrying or fretting or dithering. not tonight at least. Tonight they would rest. safe. tonight they were under his protection once again. when the elevator doors opened, he didn't cross the threshold, only paused, a hand on each other their shoulders.
"rest easy little brothers," he suggested, not quite enough to thrall them, but more than enough to ease them out of any hangups they might be labouring under from the last few days (or millina), "no looking over your backs tonight, no waiting for the proverbial ofterh show to drop. Tonight, tonight care for each other the way you were meant to, before all this family infighting made it complicated."
He squeezed each hand reassuringly, breofe propelling them gently into the floor of his home that had become their space over the last few weeks. "I'll call on you in the morning for breakfast, and we shall get you both home safely after we've eaten."
Facing him, the angels wing was out, loosely curled so corlwy was tucked under its protection. in thrun, crowley could look fondly upon his angel with his good eye. Under Lucifer's hospitality, they could exist like this as they always have.
Turning away from him, they would be okay too, once they returned home. They'd have to learn a new dance, but Lucifer could see they would be fine. well, most demons were horrible at dancing (lux employees aside), but crowley's managed to find possibly the only angel that would at least try (even if he was likely to be equally as bad) They would learn these new steps, would learn how to watch each other's new weakside, keep anyone taking advantage of the other. Crowley would stand tall on Aziraphale's weakend right. Aziraphale would stand earned on corley's muted left.
They'd be fine.
And if they played host to the devil and party in theor south england home from time to time, that was no one's business but their own. and once charlie was old enough to fly (in an aeroplane) comfortably, the angelic part of the the LA ensemble made regular trips each year as well.
