#soaringthornwings

“Listen...” Behemoth sighed as he glanced at Behemiel “I am sorry about how hostile Jorg is with you, but try to understand him, he is not fond of angels in the lands he is devoted to protect”. The primodial was feeling slight guilt about his soulmate’s behavior as the angel was trying to be nice, but he still understood Leviathan could not neither wanted to trust an agent of Heaven.

“Ithuriel, look at me… look at me, sweetheart… Hold on. Everything is going to be alright…” Valak stroked the angel’s messy golden hair and soothed him softly.

Ithuriel trembled violently, bloody tears dripping from his tigtly closed injured eyes, a weak wail escaping his lips from time to time. The angel’s bruised face was damp from sweat. His whole half naked body was covered with scars, bruises and gashes. The angel looked unnaturaly slim and ill, only his stomach morbidly swollen, and his wings had lost nearly all of their glow, completely limp.

“There is no time in spitting venom that I am a demon, fallen. We need to get him out of here right now because he won’t make it for much longer” the demon growled after feeling Kushiel crash the dark room.

Azazel was curled up against a wall in fetal position, eyes tightly closed. His vision was barely functioning from the sacred needles stabbed into his eyes multiple times anyway. Nearly all of his vessel’s tears were drained, and the few bloody ones that still fell from time to time burned like acid. The demon’s whole body was covered in rotting wounds and painfully dried cuts from all the torture he had gone through, blood and strange black liquid dripping from the corner of his mouth, a clear x-ray crack of essence on his shoulder… Whips, blades, fire… All sanctified. And many said Church was merciful…

Azazel held up tougly for a long time. But finnally, he started to scream as his toturers got more and more vicious. Then, he fell silent once more. Just laid doubled above his round stomach, still trying to protect the children inside him even his sanity was slipping away further and further, the agony so horrible he barely felt it anymore.

But suddenly, he heard the door flinging open, heavy steps approaching. The demon flinched, thinking it was his torturers. But a blow or a slash never came. There was a shot that didn’t hit him, but the devil’s trap containing him instead, breaking it. Strong arms wrapped around him. Azazel snuggled inatinctively to the comfort the man radiated.

Wait… was that… John?..

Azazel laid curled up, a weak smile on his lips as his hand softly brushed his slightly rounded stomach. That John… even now he didn’t quit the plan to kill the demon.

The pain was excruciating. Azazel had no idea how John’s soul ended up stuck inside him instead of going to Hell, or how did he begin growing. But it happened, and now the demon was carrying his worst enemy in the same way mothers carried their infants.

The new being was absorbing all the energy from Azazel to sustain the new life - his power and his strengt. His essense was painful and his vessel was in constant agony - it’s vitals were reforming to adjust to the… fetus?

And though Azazel refused to get rid of John despite all the cirumstances. Some kind of maternal instinct, or his obsession with children it was, didn’t let him to. He will protect that little creature with his life or death. He will raise his little soldier strong. No, not for Lucifer. For himself. Only for himself, nobody will touch his John.

Suddenly, his gaze shot up, eyes wide as two people crashed into the place. The… Winchesters?