Angelology

Chapter Thirty Two: Horseman of the Apocalypse

There was a dim light and whatever she was touching was soft. Her head was pounding but it didn't mattered, she felt safe. After all, anything was preferable than having the Devil fingering you when he's supposed to watch over you. It depends on how you look at it. She didn't know to who give her thanks to: that she wasn't fully, physically, violated. Because, on her mind, she wasn't right anymore. Deciding to find out who was her savior, or kidnapper, Delilah opened her eyes fully and as slow as her curiosity permitted. Her smelling senses were coming back too; there was liquor near. But not any liquor, no, this alcohol was expensive, really fine. It smelled like fancy. She tried to sit but it was a dumb move, everything was aching and she barely could move her eyelids. She decided to stay still then.

At the right wall, she saw a beautiful painting of a beach. It was alone on the dark red wall, and she continued to stare around: right in front of the bed she was at, there was a huge window but it was half covered by a huge curtain. At her left, she almost shrieked of surprise when she saw a blonde man with a glass full of the expensive drink she was smelling before, wine, it was wine; he was wearing a black buttons shirt that was half covering a grey v-neck, black pants and no shoes. He was looking at her with such intensity, she didn't know if it was alright to blush or to feel like under an x-ray scanner. His piercing blue eyes looked at her, but no emotion was shown at first.

"Hello," was all he could say, he wasn't sure how to behave, but he continued after a pause, "I tried my best to heal the large wounds on your body but all I could do was to stop them from bleeding." his accent was a serious distraction, "Whatever he used to make them was intended to stay."

"Probably." Delilah managed to say but in a thin, low voice. Her vocal chords was aching to its limits, her throat was still sore probably of all the screaming. A tear escaped her eye and he stood up and swiped it away from her face.

"And, don't talk. At least not now, not like this, don't struggle. As I was saying, there'll be permanent marks. Scars, here," he said pointing at her stomach which was covered with the sheets she was wrapped on, "and here." he completed pointing at her face and she remembered Lucifer's nail cutting from where the ear lobe ended to the right edge of her mouth. She nodded, accepting her luck, good or bad, it was luck. It didn't change anything to cry, nor to fight, nor to accuse anyone. She should've entered the motel room and if indeed there was a creature outside, ask for one of her brothers' backup. And she was one hundred percent sure, Dean was still up when she appeared in front of the door. "Gabriel is downstairs. Almost destroyed the entire house, consumed in a mixture of rage and guilt. I asked him to be quiet or otherwise I wasn't going to allow him to come."

"He can come now, if it's possible." Delilah muttered dryly, but it wasn't her intention: pain didn't let her talk right. But he seem to understand since he gave an apologetically smile and walked towards the door.

"The Archangel Gabriel and you? Never would I have imagined it." he said chuckling and Dellilah threw a pillow at him.

"Thank you, Balthazar." Delilah said softly before he left, nodding and grinning. She actually counted how many seconds passed before Gabriel appeared. Suddenly, there were three soft knocks on the mahogany door and it opened slowly. The figure behind the big door wasn't as familiar as it should've been: angels don't sleep, but Gabriel had black bags below his eyes, exhausted and mad. He was trying to remain calm but his breathing gave him away: he was furious, and sorry, and regretting every single step he made the night before.

He walked in and closed the door, not muttering a word, and her heart skipped beats: she smiled at him but he didn't smiled back at her, he just sat on the bed as close to her as he could and embraced her. She flinched at first, and almost kicked him out of the bed, his touch was burning, her skin wasn't prepared to feel any touch but the necessary. Gabriel started to move slowly, like he was carrying a baby, and tucked Delilah, embracing her more tight. She cuddled up against him and he started to mutter a melody, she recognized it from somewhere but wasn't sure exactly where. She was looking at his chest, and he was looking at the half covered window, his mind lost in thoughts.

"He'll pay for this." was all he said before planting a hard, loud kiss on Delilah's head. "I promise."

"How?" she asked tiredly, her voice wasn't steadier and she was almost falling asleep on his embrace. His hand was softly caressing the cheek where her new mark of recognition was. Then, he pulled off the covers and looked at her: it was cold, and he would put the sheets back on her soon, but first he wanted to catch a glimpse: she gave him a silent permission, and he upped his shirt just to where her boobs ended, leaving the entire abdomen for him to look at. There was a huge "L" written in a proper cursive, it looked wonderful. If it had been a tattoo, it would've been perfect, but since it was, all Gabriel could do was cover it again and wrap Delilah on the sheets again.

"You're tired." he replied.

"Just, tell." she said yawning.

"Homework for later on, when you can do a little research. The four horseman of the Apocalypse." he spoke slowly as he was trying to make a five year old understand. Maybe it was okay, because Delilah was mid asleep.

"And their help will be?" she said, fully concerned, but her eyes were closing already.

"You can't kill Lucifer," he said frowning and kissed her cheek, saying to her ear, "but you sure can shove his ass back to Hell.