the underground tunnels were full of a still, tense quiet, as if they, too, were waiting and preparing for the battle to come. not even the rats made a sound, for they had already made a mad dash for the sewers as soon as they felt the immense power building in the air around them. nobody and nothing wanted to be there for the destruction that was about to occur underneath the streets of the city of angels by the very same creatures it was named after.
andy wanted to think of the woman he just left behind to run—alone in a world with angels who wanted to hunt her down. hopefully, he had bought her some time, and they would be too distracted with him to go after her. he couldn't protect her if they did, and no matter how strong her will was, she was no match for a full-fledged, centuries-trained angel—but he didn't. he couldn't, because, if he did, he would become distracted. distractions made you weak, and he was weak enough.
"lucifer, dear," the voice of his brother purred out, echoing through the enclosed space. "i can smell you. you can't run or hide for much longer. you know we will find you. and when we do... i will end you, and then i will send you to the very hell you used to rule. you remember that, don't you brother?"
his nostrils flared, both angered and disgusted by the lack of empathy, or any feeling at all, in the heavenly angel's voice. but then...
then, andy wondered, like he usually would for the past ten years, about his father, and why, if gabriel's words rang true, hadn't he killed him, after all? he certainly had the means to, as he had seen that ill-fated day, so why didn't he?
everything gabriel did over the millennia, everything he was and who he sometimes pretended to be, came back to him as if it were his own life flashing before his eyes, and not his brother's. every word he had spat out in hatred towards andy, all the beatings and the cruel games he liked to play. nobody could be that cruel, not without a reason.
and that was when he started to figure it out, the twists and turns in the mazes of gabriel's consciousness coming to make sense to his own as he stood in that dim tunnel. he may not have had as much power as the rest of them, but he had knowledge, and boy, had the king of hell become wickedly cunning in the years he reigned over his kingdom.
he was the king, and kings do not bend the knee for anything but their crown. today, he refused to bend his.
"if you want to kill me, gabriel, then do it," andy spat, stalking further towards the creature hell-bent on revenge. "father will be so proud, won't he? tell me, does he know what you have been planning? or did you go behind his back again and hope he won't find out what you intend to do to me?"
"i am a millennium old, brother," he snarled, so close now that the devil could hear his footsteps clacking on the dirty floor, "i don't need anyone's permission to end the life of fallen scum."
the beast within him stirred, anxiously awaiting for the moment it got to sink its claws into him. there was no way for it to escape its cage on earth, but if he killed the men who were intent on killing him, the power released could be enough to return him to the place he had always belonged. not in the whitest of clouds, closed within the gates of a peaceful kingdom watched over by a god who was never there, nor in a tower of steel, tyrannically ruling over an endless pit of hell-fire, but with his home, his heart, his beloved. his emelia.
then, and only then, could they return to hell to unleash the beast inside on everyone who had dared to wrong him. the dark, hellish being inside him promised that the souls of his brethren would suffer in immense agony for the rest of eternity, pictures of their ravaged souls flashing in the two creatures whose minds were one.
that was enough to spur him on, to rally the strength he begged would be enough combined with his newfound wits. there was a weakness in everyone, an ocean of water that could destroy the fire in his enemy's bones, leaving a mark that would be etched in their minds for the rest of their immortal lives, heaven, earth, or hell.
"or do you?" andy snarled lowly. "do you remember what daddy dearest did to you, gabriel, those centuries you ran wild and rampant, disobedient to each and every one of his commands? the way he tore your wings out, one by one, before repairing them and doing it all over again? do you remember that? is that why you go behind his back now, forever the hated child, to destroy his favorite son? does he know how you ripped my wings out in the exact places he ripped yours? does he know-"
a mighty roar was unleashed, a blast of pure white power turning the corner, heading straight for the darkness andy had wrapped around himself. but he was prepared, had anticipated exactly when he would strike, and dived into the hole of the sewer, heaving the latch closed in an unseen beat. he raced down the completely dark tunnel that stank of human waste, burning his nose. he didn't need the light to see, for he already calculated exactly where he was going, running his fingers straight across the ceiling of the tunnel until they hit the next latch.
quietly, he pushed it upwards, using his darkness as a wind to help him out of the stench. gabriel stood still, a predator sniffing out his prey, but what he did not know was that he was the prey, and andy the predator.
dropping into a low crouch, he summoned every ounce of darkness he had gathered in the past few minutes, eyes closing, reaching out with that darkness to pinpoint the other bodies of power still moving towards them. he said one last prayer to the father that had never protected him, both a plea for help and a curse on his name. to hell with the god of humans. he damned all of them, and then damned his sons, too, to a life full of darkness. so he became exactly what his father had never intended him to. that darkness.
there was an echoing silence as he lashed out, a violent strike of the darkest night into the hearts of his betrayers. it moved in visible waves, but it was so quick it couldn't be seen, like lightning in a storm. andy could feel it, their deaths, as it licked at the strands of his power. he recoiled as soon as he felt it, not allowing himself to feel the guilt. they had no time to protect themselves, which was exactly what he wanted, but they were once his brothers.
they deserved it, he told himself. they were far from innocent.
there was no sound but gabriel's breathing hitching not even a millisecond before the power was released, erupting through the tunnels with no leash or damper. it was as if he sensed the souls of his brethren falling in submission to the knives of the wicked, sending them far, far below, to where only true evil lay.
before it could reach them, the devil's hell-flames wrapped themselves around the white-hot power that shot like a comet through endless space, might and roaring. instead of suffocating it, they consumed it, the immense power a rushing river through his bloodstream. he felt the flames, felt the power, but the whole time, he was watching the way his brother crumpled to the dirty cement, riddled with dust, a coarse scream echoing through the empty hallway.
he was breaking, his brother, a complex riddle of steel and broken glass unwinding right in front of him. for a moment it was painful to watch, but andy reminded himself who this was and what he had taken from him, forced him to leave.
"you wanted to be the favorite," the king of hell empathized, "but he would never let you have that, would he? so you became greedy, and envious, watching as i grew up the ever-loved son. you tried to break me those centuries, pinning me down and watching as you murdered the humans i loved, the blame falling on me. i loved the humans, and you knew that, so you made me evil in their eyes, and so they called me satan. they cursed me, shunned me, all because of you."
"first, you took them. all of them. and then you made me play that damned game when the man who hated you wasn't looking. i thought it was over, but you framed me once more, convincing our father to condemn me to hell, as if it were a better place for me. i decided, then, that i would become the very devil everyone feared, a version of myself that i despised with every corner of my being. the only reason i hadn't completely lost who i was, was because of emelia, and today you tried to take her from me. she is my only family, gabriel, something that you never we-"
"enough!" gabriel bellowed, slowly standing up from where he was bent over at the knees, turning to face the brother he despised. his eyes of blue were rimmed with angry red, the tears of a mortal flowing freely down his face. he spoke with a deadly calm, "they were my family, lucifer. the angels you just murdered, they were my family, and you don't touch them."
"well it's too late," andy hissed, quick footsteps bringing him to the angel's face, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. "i loved them, too, but you turned them against me along with everybody else. you took everything, you son of a fucking bitch. for ten years i have lived in shame and sorrow because of it and my wounds have not yet healed and you will pay for this, brother."
his nostrils flared, eyes darkening from blue to the darkest night, a wicked, inhuman grin spreading across his features. and he said, "you will pay for this, brother."
"do it," gabriel dared, defeat written in the way he slumped into his brother's arms, defeated. it was all over for him, and they both knew it. the power unleashed from the deaths of the only ones he loved was enough to remove the cage that kept his beast captive for ten years. "let the worst version of yourself take over, brother. end it, as you have wanted to do for centuries. killing me would give you enough power to go back home and you know it, so do it. end me."
but he couldn't. the hesitation, that was the problem. there was sympathy in his eyes as he looked down at the angel he had come to loathe, begging for a death that would only bring him eternal suffering. the person he had locked inside of himself, right before his wings had been ripped off and his power leashed, that was no longer him. he did not gain satisfaction feeding off the souls of the damned, nor did he revel in the pain and misery of others. in the ten years he had gone without this creature, something inside of him had changed. maybe it was the isolation, or emelia, that brought out the light he had never seen in himself. whatever it may have been, it led him here, standing over gabriel with mercy in his heart.
he had no clue he would ever be capable of mercy towards the angel he used to fall his brother, but here they stood.
andy shut his eyes, head hanging low as he reined in the darkest parts of his soul once again. he did not open his eyes until his brother started shaking with sobs, turned the brightest blue once more. he leaned his forehead against gabriel's, slowly moving them to the floor and moving the hand that had fisted his shirt to his shoulder, the other hand resting above his beating, immortal heart.
"i'm sorry, brother," andy murmured with a surprising sorrow. "perhaps, in another life, we would've loved each other."
gabriel was still sobbing as he said, "please, luce... please."
"i did love you, once," he continued, "and i loved them once, too. i still would, if you hadn't turned into the monster you are. but i forgive that. all you wanted was to be loved."
andy allowed himself to shed a single tear as he whispered to him, "goodnight, brother," knowing full well where the angel would go.
he unleashed his power, and darkness swept through gabriel's heart.
-
"i'm tired," andy murmured, his voice losing itself in the cold night. once again, he was sat upon the same windowsill in which he started, his sock-covered feet doing nothing to hold off the cold. he didn't mind, though, because the numbness of his skin matched the numbness of his heart.
"i'm tired of the games, of having everything to lose and nothing to gain. i'm tired of playing into the hands of others and waiting on the world to–to change and stop hating the angel i used to be. i'm tired of fighting, of hurting... living, sometimes."
he waited for a response only to be met with an empty silence, cursing himself as he remembered he was alone on this windowsill, in this room.
it had been two weeks since the day in the tunnels. the power was still with him, as was the guilt. killing used to come so easily to him, as familiar and comforting as his lover's presence, but she was far away now. he didn't know where she'd gone, but she had not returned. he waited for her still, alone in every other sense of the word.
"i do not know what it is that makes me feel so... so dead inside. these human emotions, however long they have stayed with me, are foreign. i do not know how to control them. i feel so much at once that i have become numb, a mindless human in the thrall of time. that's all i have, time..." he chuckled to himself as he trailed off, his story falling on deaf ears.
"i know she will return," he continued with confidence. "we will always find each other, in the end. and until then, i will be here, forever waiting for my forever love, wherever she may be."
andy's eyes trailed down to the single red rose he held in his hand, a thorn pricking his finger. it did not bleed, or even seem to pierce the skin. two weeks ago, it would've left a stinging pain behind. now, there was nothing.
that was all he was ever going to have; all he was ever going to be.
"i am tired of this place, living in a world twisted in their beliefs to hate the angel that had always loved them. i am tired of wandering around, afloat on a never-ending sea of aloneness. i have an eternity of life, but what is the purpose of having it if there is nobody to spend it with?"
he returned to silence once more, his body still hunched and resting against the side of the window. there he sat, and for hours he both admired and scorned the world in front of his eyes. most of all, he waited on a woman that did not return.
please come back to bed, she would say to him, if she were there. he would, after a few more tries, reluctantly oblige, crawling under the sheets and holding her to him, his only home.
he sighed, blinking away the thought. "perhaps another day, another world."
when the clock struck 2 am and the city had finally gone to sleep, andy took a deep breath, scooting forward and gripping the windowsill tightly. he did not allow himself to cry. his lip started to quiver, but he bit down on it. there would be no more tears.
he wondered for a moment if anybody would record this moment, though he knew it would be full of false truths. god's favorite son and the ruthless angel of hell, finally meeting his possible end.
what a story it would be.
with one last inhale, andy pushed himself off of the ledge, diving headfirst towards the vacant streets below. the wind ripped at him, an invisible hand that could not catch him. the sound of it was so loud he could no longer hear his own thundering heartbeat. falling was almost like flying, a euphoric sensation spread through every nerve in the body, except the broad horizon and the edges of space were not there to greet you. instead, all you were met with was the frozen, cracked concrete.
he was too afraid to close his eyes, but so, so terrified of keeping them opened. andy had never felt so much terror in all of his eternal life, no matter the things he'd been through. at the same time, there'd never been so much exhilaration.
he laughed a melodic, heavenly sound of euphoria before spreading his arms, welcoming the adrenaline rush. it was over in seconds as he plummeted towards the earth.
then, in one massive swoop, he was twisting his body and barreling upwards towards the cloud-covered stars. large, magnificent white wings spanned far past his fingertips. he had escaped death once before, but he hadn't expected this to work.
just ten seconds ago, he had accepted that he was going to die, that he had been imagining the old, familiar weight upon his back and his wounds were still opened. every ounce of regret and despair he had felt in those last few seconds had dissipated, leaving him with a happiness so pure he did not know how to begin to comprehend.
so he opened his mouth and let out a whooping howl, soaring across the dark horizon. wind-dried tears stained his face, but he no longer cared. when the day broke, he would return, but tonight, he would live.
for what was true happiness if you didn't let it radiate from every fiber of yourself?
A/N: and that's the end! to be honest, i had decided on an ending a few months ago, but while i was writing this yesterday, i decided to change it. this entire short story was supposed to be revolves around andy and how he struggled and tried to cope with his past and his emotions as he sat upon that windowsill. my original idea was to have gabriel kill him off, but i wanted to give gabriel a little bit of humanity and weakness instead, along with showing that andy's 'beast' was not a different creature altogether, but rather a metaphor for a version of himself he had created while he ruled over hell. i wanted andy to return to his windowsill one last time, this time alone, making him more vulnerable. he had assumed that, because of all of the power he had gained, his wings had grown back (like lucifer if anyone's seen that show). he had accepted his possible death and would've been okay with it, but instead he lived, and the rest is open for interpretation.
i hope you loved this story as much as i do, it was an inspiring piece to write and i will forever hold it dear to me.