@geraniumshurricane asked:
“Calm down, you are safe.”
Delirium. Agony. Pain.
He was abandoned, cast aside like he was nothing. He'd protected his Divine so He could be removed from the warzone by the others, the God injured heavily from something he didn't quite understand.
But this left the male broken and vulnerable as poison from the bullets of the townsfolk leeched into his veins and burned his body hot. He'd lashed out until his mind went blank and his meat sack finally gave out.
The last he'd seen was vibrant teal reaching for him.
Twisted dreams haunted the apostle, ripping screams from his throat as he writhed in bouts of awareness that had thrust him from the chilled throws of wretched agony. He knew not his words in those moments, knew not his pleas for the Divine to end his life, nor had he know frantic confessions of fear and terror. Least of all the prayers for forgiveness, for his sins and his weakness.
When the fever finally broke, the nightmares grew violent, foul and cruel as parasitic growths formed on his body, when clawed out tendrils of viscera was hauled with it. Each movement pulled through his muscles, making him feel like strands of his body were tugged free with the strange writhing mass of soon congealed blood.
To which, a beak-like protrusion formed, gelatinous to the touch before the many mouths parted to let forth a horrid cacophony of screams;
And he awoke to his own voice, raised in weakened terror at the veil, writhing as pain followed from his dream, morphing the sound to unholy agony. It's not too long before hands find his body, pushing him down to the bed, a soothing voice of an angel easing the mangled mass of frayed nerves and tortured thoughts.
Golden rings blearily tried to focus, seeing a halo of light framing a soft face laced with fear and concern as the Angel looked upon his pathetic form. Shame filled his gaze, but he relented into the demanding hold, sinking down into the surprisingly plush surface. It wasn't lavish, but for one used to a stone cot, it was paradise.
The words laid upon him were like a blanket to his soul, the metal in his mind resonating with the tone of the other's voice, settling from the presence of Divinity above. Though the pain still ran rampant through his body, crashing and thrashing like a wild devil, he'd managed to restrain it's reveal to ragged breaths and full body tremors.
"Forgive me, Angel. I should be stronger." though vocals were torn, they were found in whispered prayer to the one above him, eyes glossing with agony once more as he bit to blood vessels to silence the sounds threatening his form.
"Please, worry not over my wretched form. For this is how I shall atone for my sins. Or be sent to the devil should it not be enough." a hand found his rosary, still thankfully intact despite the horrors his body faced against the betrayal of the Undertaker and the poisoned foray of the townsfolk.
The blissful grasp of dreamless sleep reached for him, clawing his mind down into the frozen abyss as tears formed in his eyes yet never fell.
When next he woke it had been weeks since he'd dropped, in another place, the soft bed he'd been in replaced for the desert sand. The roaring fire beside his frame eased the chill of the evening nipping at his skin. Lids flutter open as he stared upon the darkening sky, lights twinkling from an unfathomable distance away, offering soft sparks of wonderous dreaming.
He shifted, a dull groan echoing from his ribs as slowly pain threaded into tired bones. He'd known not that he'd been tended to for so long, that his whole survival had been treated to in the throws of barely registered awareness and raw weakness. He knew not of his murmurs of gratitude and mewls of affection, though he feared for what had transpired in his lost mind.
Finally, he sat up of his own accord, an arm tucked around his sweatered chest, noting his usual bulky jacket had been discarded somewhere. He felt bare, despite the clothing adorning his skin, free hand drifting to his head where blood had trailed from his right ear, a soft sigh at the reveal of another bleeding event from within his skull. The Doctor would be displeased.
Eyes slowly took in the space he was in, fear itching at his veins, threading through to the Strands within as a meek whimper left his disoriented throat, finding the vocal net torn beyond use, causing only a deeper thread of dread to plunge into his body;
Where was he, what had happened, to him and to his God?
"Calm down, you are safe."
There is was again, those same words whispered in faint glimpses of a dream, or was it reality? They reached for him just as teal glinted in firelight, making him recoil from their arching path. Eyes narrowed in pain as he pushed himself, threading the frailest shard of his power to freeze the arm before it could reach further.
Though even that was too much for him, releasing the grip on the other's body with a ragged breath as eyes slowly focused on the golden halo once more. They cleared, noting details and soon he froze, staring Divinity in the eye with a new fear lacing through mortal flesh;
This was not his God. But the brother He'd so desperately reached for.
Which only meant he had been abandoned by God.
