As soon as Tanner left, Azrael just flopped over in bed, letting the little bit of giddiness in her chest ward off the pain for as long as she could. It was stupid, getting so flustered and warm and fuzzy over a hug and a kiss on the cheek, especially considering she'd been married to Tanner for four years, but that didn't stop the feelings.
How she'd ever thought she could leave him, she had no idea. It was fear, all fear that blocked out how much she loved him, how good he was to her. He messed up, they both did. Under normal circumstances, that kind of violence really shouldn't be tolerated but for the love of god they'd both lied about their fundamental make up as people for eight years, that much lying is bound to boil over at some point. It had, that was behind them now. She loved him, he loved her, and nothing like this would ever happen again.
Now it was just a matter of forgiveness. She really wanted to forgive him, but that little bit of trepidation hanging heavy in her chest refused to be ignored. They'd take it slow, that's all. Redefine some boundaries. They'd never go "back to normal" because their normal had been a lie. They'd find a new normal, however long that took.
A new normal. What would that look like? Raising one hand in front of her face, Azrael tried to summon a little light into it. She barely managed a tiny flash before dizziness ran her over like a truck. Alright, no more magic today. If she was unconscious, she couldn't eat her mac and cheese.
She needed to practice. Neglecting her magic in favor of supporting her human lie for eight years was downright stupid and just because those years had been wonderful and peaceful didn't mean fate was done dragging her through the dirt. Will Tanner be okay with my magic? Considering he didn't even want to know her age, the whole angel thing had to have freaked him out even a little and she wasn't about to make that worse.
But what if he is okay with it? Azrael had never once tried to imagine how angelic magic would work in a domestic setting. What could she do to practice? Destroying things had always been her specialty, for once she was grateful because she felt no need to practice that, but otherwise?
Azrael smiled to herself at the ridiculousness of it. She could bring down the power bill by acting as a walking lamp. Or in winter, she could be a living space heater. If Tanner would let her, she'd like to heal whatever injuries he had. Not just because she hated to see him hurt, but because she healed much faster than a human--not human. Same rules applied, though, angel healing beats mortal. Maybe she could help with his stress, too. Healing didn't just mean physical. Maybe after a few too many hours at his desk, she could pull him away for even just five minutes to hold him and use her light to soothe him. I'd love that, if he'd let me.
Azrael's fantasies about the future held her together for a little while, but unfortunately the warm and fuzzies couldn't last her forever and her reality pressed in on her, mostly in the form of constant, only somewhat bearable pain. Not just from her injuries, her whole body ached fiercely, burned out by her magic. Yes, Tanner had told her to stay in bed, but downtown was far and she needed a distraction. Without the crushing fear of her dangerous husband and crumbling marriage, Azrael was bored. Bored and feeling kinda gross considering she'd spent the last two days in bed.
Slowly, she unwrapped herself from all her blankets and slid off the bed onto her unsteady feet. At most twenty feet, you can do this. With an embarrassing amount of difficulty, Azrael made her way across to the bathroom, placed a towel on the edge of the tub, then sat down on it. Realistically, she needed a proper shower, but she doubted she could stay upright for that long without help. While their relationship was slowly repairing itself, she and Tanner weren't quite there yet. Or at least she wasn't.
She stripped off Tanner's shirt and turned on the shower, cleaning herself as best she could using the hotel soap and a washcloth she ran under the water to soap and de-soap as needed. After far too long, she shut the shower off and put Tanner's shirt back on again, satisfied by her attempt to get the hotel grime off of herself. Her hair, however, would stay in the nightmare of a bun she'd put it in until she could wash it properly.
As Azrael slowly made her way back toward the bed, a knock on the door made her stop. Right, I never gave Tanner a key. That was stupid. Using the wall to limp toward the door, Azrael realized she never doubted that he'd return. That anxiety from earlier, so sensitive it sparked up when he left her eyesight, had vanished entirely. Tanner was her husband and he wasn't going anywhere without her, she knew that now. Quite the opposite, he'd returned hopefully with heaven in a little to-go container.
With a deep breath to steady her, Azrael pushed off the wall to take a few steps back and twist the doorknob. As soon as she opened the door just a crack, Tanner shoved the rest of the way in, the force of the door throwing Azrael off balance and to the ground. She barely managed to avoid hitting her head, instead she hit the ground hard on her side, the impact sending an agonizing jolt up her body and forcing a pained gasp out of her mouth. If the fall hadn't popped some stitches in her shoulder, it certainly fucking jarred them.
God, the room had already been spinning just from being on her feet and now Azrael had to take a few seconds just to orient herself enough to look up to the doorway to curse out her stupid husband.
Except the tall figure towering over her wasn't Tanner.
"Christ, Azrael, are you alright?" Alan Katzmann, her fucking boss, stepped in and shut the door behind him before crouching down next to her. "What happened to you?"
Several things ran through Azrael's head at once. The first being a very long stream of curses, the second being the realization that she had no pants on and that was her boss and third being screams of absolute horror considering the state he found her in. This is bad. This is very, very bad.
"What are you doing here?" She asked instead of answering any of his questions, trying to keep the strain out of her voice as she used the wall in an attempt to drag herself back to her feet. Without an invitation or permission, Alan surged forward to wrap one of his arms around her waist.
"I was worried about you. Apparently with good reason to be", he said softly as he transferred most of her weight onto him. "Where would you like me to set you down?"
"Bed." Azrael said without thinking, wincing as he slowly walked her across the hotel room. He used both of his very cold hands, one around her waist and the other around the backs of her bare thighs to lift her and place her onto the mess of blankets she'd left. Trying her hardest not to squirm at her fucking boss touching her half dead, half naked body, Azrael refused to make eye contact with him until he pulled his hands back. She hoped he couldn't tell how nauseous she suddenly felt.
Alan sat down next to her on the bed, dark eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Who did this to you?" One of his hands reached for her face.
Azrael shrunk back a little before his fingers ran along the gauze Tanner had taped to her forehead. Right, right. Doctor. Wound. Makes sense. While he distracted himself with her injuries, Azrael blurted out the first lie she thought of, one that wasn't quite a lie. "I was attacked by a dog." Werewolf actually. Werewolf who happens to be my husband. Dog was true enough.
"A dog?"
The slight nod she gave made her head hurt. "Big dog."
Alan thankfully pulled his hands away from her face, "You said you were sick."
"It wasn't actually, uh, that big of a dog." God I need to learn to lie. "Kind of embarrassing." Yes, because a professional who for years hadn't missed a day of work aside from pre-approved vacation days would lie about why she couldn't come in. Because the dog that attacked her wasn't big enough.
If Tanner wanted to come back any time now, that would be great.
"You're seriously trying to tell me a dog did this?" Alan gestured to her head before pulling one of her hands from her lap, the one covered in bandages. "Weird collection of wounds for a dog attack." As Azrael pulled her hand back as quickly as wound be polite, the collar of Tanner's shirt slipped a little too far to the side. Alan's eyes immediately locked onto the much more heavily bandaged portion of her shoulder. "What happened there?"
"Nothing." She quickly pulled the shirt back up. "Really, I'm fine. It was just a few stitches and-"
"Stitches?" He cut her off, slate-grey eyes wide under raised brows. "You never came to the hospital. You didn't do them yourself, did you? And considering how awful you look, please tell me you have some kind of painkiller."
"No, no painkillers. Although--" Azrael gave an awkward little laugh, feeling her chest tighten the longer he lingered "--if you wanted to get me some, I wouldn't complain." He nodded. "I didn't do the stitches, I don't even think that would be possible. It was Tanner."
Alan's face immediately soured. "You had a lawyer do your stitches?"
"Yep."
"This doesn't make sense to me." Alan shook his head, making it feel even harder to breathe. "You call off saying you're sick when you've actually been beaten to hell, you have your non-medically trained husband do your stitches instead of going to the hospital, where you know I would have taken good care of you. And now I find you not at home, but in some tiny old hotel without even your own clothes."
"Oh no, I had clothes when I came, they're just too dirty to wear. Tanner's getting me more now I should be f-"
"He did this to you, didn't he?" Alan phrased it like a question. They both knew it wasn't.
"What?" Oh god, this is bad. Regardless of how things were with her and Tanner, if this got out, a domestic abuse charge or even rumor would be enough to ruin his career.
"Tanner hurt you."
"No." Azrael could hardly get the words out of her rapidly closing throat. "No, of course not."
"That's why you never went to the hospital, injuries like that would invite questions", Alan grabbed both of her hands and held them tightly. "That's why you're in this hotel, isn't it? He's hiding you away where no one can find you until you're healed, so no one can see what he did to you."
Azrael's eyes flickered toward the door. Tanner, please help. "You've got the wrong idea about hi-"
"Azrael." Alan's tone was calm, contrasting the earnest way he held her hands. "I promise, you're safe. Please, look me in the eye and tell me your husband didn't do this to you."
I can't. Biting her bottom lip hard, Azrael let her eyes find his again and fought the urge to cower under such an intense stare. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, the pain in her body, especially her head, pulsing along with its rapid rhythm. It doesn't matter what I say. Instead of lying again, she just ducked her head and broke from his stare. "You don't understand. Please, just forget about this, forget that you saw me. I promise, I'm taking care of it."
"Let me help." He squeezed her limp hands. "I'll get you out of here, take you to the police so they can keep him away from you. After that, I'll take you back to my home, I'll take care of you and I'll come with you to any hearings, any time you'll have to see him again."
"What? No." Azrael forcibly pulled her hands from his and scooted backwards on the bed. "No police. No court hearings. I told you, I'm taking care of it. We're working it out, I don't need any help."
"You're working it out?" Alan's words, spoken harshly through grit teeth, made Azrael shrink back further. "You mean you still want to stay with that fucking beast?" He stood abruptly, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Look at yourself, Azrael, look what he did to you!"
"You don't understand!" Azrael insisted, panic rising in her throat. "This isn't what you think! We got in a fight, it's as much my fault as it's his and we're fine. We've moved past it and we're fine. I'm fine!"
"If you think any of this is your fault, you're not fine at all!" A flush rose to Alan's cheeks as he yelled at her. "He's in your head, Azrael, you're not thinking clearly! You're the one who doesn't understand."
"I understand perfectly fucking well and I can make my own decisions!" Boss or no boss, Azrael yelled right back at him. "My husband is good to me and I love him and we're working it out so I appreciate your concern, but I don't need your help!"
Alan slammed his hands on the bed on either side of her, making her jump. Tanner please. She couldn't fight him off, the realization nearly made her sick right there. "You need my help!" Alan insisted, loudly and right in her face. "More than you could ever know." Both of his hands shot upward to grab the sides of Azrael's face. Alan leaned closer, his expression softening. "He's not good to you, you have no idea what good even is. Let me show you. I will be good to you, I'll never hurt you." His face drew closer and Azrael only realized what he was about to do a second before his lips pressed against hers. Her stomach dropped out and she could only shout her protests against his mouth as she tried to twist her face out of his hands.
He pulled back, but not far enough. Not fucking far enough. He could have thrown himself out the fucking window and it wouldn't have been far enough. No, he kept his hold on her head, kept his breath against her skin as he whispered. "Shh, Azrael, it's okay. He's not here. He's not going to hurt you for letting me touch you." And then he was on her again, more forceful this time, shoving his lips on hers while pushing forward, forcing Azrael to lean backward.
With one hand braced on the bed behind her, keeping her from falling all the way back, her other shoved at his chest. Not strong enough. Why wasn't she strong enough? She threw Tanner across the fucking room just two days ago why the fuck couldn't she move him?
Magic. Her strength was magic. Everything was magic, everything that made her strong, that gave her the ability to defend herself. Without that, she was just some tiny mortal woman. And she was terrified.
Finally, she managed to shove hard enough to at least dislodge him, to put some distance between their faces at least. "Get out!" She screamed the second she had the space and breath to do so. "Alan, you need to fuckling leave, Tanner is going to be back any second and-"
"We'll be long gone by then, he won't get the chance to hurt you." That's not what I'm saying.!
"I'm not going anywhere", Azrael shoved at his chest again and he finally relented, standing back up with pursed lips. "But you, you need to get out. Now."
"He really has brainwashed you, hasn't he?" Alan frowned, something truly sad in his eyes. "I don't want to hurt you, Azrael, but I have to get you out of here. One day, once you're away from him and I've taken care of you, you'll thank me."
He lunged forward and grabbed one of her arms, yanking her up off the bed, the motion wrenching her shoulder and sending pain burning across her skin. "Let me go!" Azrael tried to pull herself out of his grasp but fuck it hurt so badly, the harder she pulled more her body screamed for her to stop. While she struggled, he just grabbed her other arm and twisted both behind her. "Stop!" She was begging now, agony and vertigo flickering her vision. "Please! Please stop! You're hurting me!"
There's nothing I can do! No matter how many breaths she took, she couldn't seem to get any air as panic squeezed her lungs. Fuck, I can't get him off of me! No matter how hard she twisted, his grip never gave even a little. For some reason, she'd always found his background with the marines to be a comfort in case anything went down at the hospital. She never imagined he'd use those skills to bring her to his mercy.
No. I'm not at his mercy, not yet. Fuck being discovered, at this rate she was going to end up chained up in his goddamn basement. Azrael had to have some magic left in her, something to save her. Just a little power to her hands, just enough to fucking scare him if that's what it took. Please. Please let it be enough. Whatever magic she still had swelled in her hands and flashed into being for just a second.
Azrael hit the floor and she hit it hard. The buzzing swelled in her ears again, deafening and terrifying as she fought to keep her eyes open. I can't pass out. If she lost consciousness, it was over for her. He could do whatever he wanted with her. I can't pass out. But god, it was so hard. Nothing sounded right. Alan said something from where he stood above her, looking up at the light, but his voice was so distorted, she couldn't make it out.
The ceiling light. The fucking ceiling light. All the magic she had left managed to make him think the ceiling light flickered for a second. At least it startled him enough to drop her.
But not stop him, not for good. Alan knelt down to where she'd collapsed and slid his arms around her. He was saying something else. Just sounds, it was all just sounds. God, she was so tired. I can't pass out.
"No..." She didn't even know if her lips had managed to properly form the word or if she'd just groaned. "Please..." He lifted her from the ground, her body limp and useless in his arms. Azrael's vision blurred as he moved her again, she wasn't even sure what he was doing with her now. "No..." She was tired. So tired. Too tired.
Everything Azrael had left she used to stay awake so at least she'd know whatever he did with her unresponsive body.