B e f o r e G e n e s i s
Begins for a moment to think such things a ludicrous construct that Gabriel came up with just to pull his wings–
Would it truly have been too much to ask for some form of entertainment while he was doing his time?
( Time, because surely Father would let him back out.
This was a misunderstanding; a harsh lesson; a TIME OUT… right? )
‘And you call yourself benevolent…’
It was the single most hilarious thought to hit him in some space of… time - eons? - and he laughs. High, ringing, joyous but beginning - like every single part of him - to crack and SPLIT.
It begins to sound hysterical after a few m o n t h s.
He’s gotten the hang of it now. How ‘time’ seemed to pass down in this pit. Counts it away with a rapidity that could almost be mistaken for eagerness.
Michael comes to him then, all resplendent fire and depressingly serious overtones. Lucifer always did think he should smile more. Ah, consequences of being the experimental firstborn.
‘O brother, why wouldn’t I be?’ The Fallen Star doesn’t yet seem to catch the vibratory waver of Michael’s voice. Doesn’t see through the illusion. – He never will.
Gabriel came for a visit sometime after.
After the broken angel ( ‘monster, Luce. That’s what you are.’ ) had sat and endured his elders continued abuse for Father knew how long… he couldn’t help the leap his heart had made into the mildly raw remains of his throat.
( tears were such horribly draining things… )
Gabriel, their youngest, their gentle heart wrapped in soft edges, remains silent. It is enough for Lucifer to begin to d o u b t.
‘…Gabe…?’ No. Not Baby Gabe. Can’t be…
There are hard lines upon a face that doesn’t quite know how to wear them correctly. His precious honey’d brother - he who’d been comfort and pupil. Who’d sit underneath the brightest of wingspans because there, and only there, would he ever feel calm…–
There was a look of such BETRAYAL and HATRED that it stole the very breath from his lungs.
‘You could have fought harder!!’
Oh he was small and his Grace so pure and unstained. His Sweetest Brother; golden warm and innocent and how could he have done this to him how DARE he–
Lucifer buried his head in his hands, and wept.
Raphael was last, in this particular circuit. The first of many.
‘You look… terrible, brother.’ Noted with all the inflection of a detached veteran war medic. Which was to say; none.
‘…I don’t want to talk about it.’ Please give me mercy. ‘Tell me how you have fared, in my absence.’
‘Jerusalem has fallen; Rome risen, and then torn asunder.’ Casualties, casualties. Somehow Raphael seemed just faintly to waver. Of course the magnitudinal loss of roach life would bother him. ‘I have been busy.’
Of course the suffering of his elder mattered little…
It was then that he truly began to become b i t t e r.