February 11, 2007

  • From Hell to Hell, Chapters 1-4

    HellsingDemon

    Here's chapters 1-4 of the co-write thingy. Instead of doing them each by seperate posts, I decided to just throw them all at you in one. Mostly because I'm a lazy person and this way works very well for a lazy person like me. So...enjoy? Hopefully?

    Quick warning: This is shounen-ai. Will most likely contain a few lemons later. Right now, there's a little limey goodenss at the end of chapter one. Just so ya know and don't flame me.


    Chapter One: Sara's Chapter

    Disclaimer: Only gonna put this once. Azazel isn't mine. He's Sara's. So is Ivan. Kaggren and Vlad are mine. We share whatever plot there is, so there. And this is her first lemony/limey thing. So flame and I will kill you for her. That or set fire to a couple of things. Yay fire. Enjoy.

    Azazel stood before the large window, basking in the breeze flouncing through the open glass. Silk curtains, pastel blue in color, billowed on either side of him in the pesky wind. With a happy sigh, Azazel ran a hand through his light blonde hair before glancing over his shoulder. The real reason he had come into the room lay huddled under the covers of a king size bed, sheltered from the daylight.

    “Guten Morgen! Treiben und schiene!” Azazel exclaimed, his thickly accented voice echoing somewhat in the spacious room.

    The lump on the bed shifted slightly, even gave a quiet snort, but it was quite content to remain in place.

    “Vlad, get up,” he said, yanking the protective covers from the fallen. “We have a big meeting to attend.”

    Foggy aquamarine eyes blinked at him sleepily, and Vlad murmured something incoherently before burying his face in a downy pillow.

    “Hmm? I couldn’t understand you.”

    With a deep sigh, Vlad finally pushed himself up. “I said, joy of joys.”

    Azazel rolled his eyes. “I made you coffee.”

    At this, Vlad instantly perked up. “Bring it here.”

    “I don’t think so. You’ll fall back asleep and- don’t look at me like that, I know you. You’re just waiting for me to leave the room.”

    The blonde was right, of course. With an acknowledging grunt, Vlad crawled out of the bed, his black wings unfurling behind him. He didn’t even bother to look at Azazel until he was in the doorway.

    “Are you coming?” the brunette asked.

    Azazel sashayed past him and glided down the hallway into the kitchen. “I even made breakfast for your lazy ass,” he called. “Hurry up, or it will get cold.”

    Vlad knew Azazel would simply warm the food up again, though, so he stayed put for a minute. His eyes slid shut again and he slid to a halfway standing position, leaning heavily on the door frame.

    “I said hurry up!”

    Startled out of his semi-conscious state, Vlad smiled guiltily at Azazel, who stood at the other end of the hall, wooden spoon in hand. Azazel only shook his head sadly.

    - -

    Fallen scattered out of his way like frightened cockroaches. And, to him, they may as well have been. Those who knew him personally moved out of respect, those who did not, out of fear. All moved, however, because messing with the black haired man was a terrible mistake.

    No, Vlad was not arrogant. He was confident. He strode down the hall with vigor, long hair streaming behind him, wings gleaming a deep crimson in the torchlight. The unfortunate fallen who met his gaze choked on their own words, fear in their eyes. Which only encouraged Vlad’s smirk to deepen.

    “Vlad, wait up!”

    Vlad turned, his aqua eyes peering into Azazel’s silver ones. “You’re two slow,” he replied.

    “Shut up,” Azazel muttered when he finally stood next to Vlad.

    “The sooner we get out of here, the better,” Azazel rushed on, glancing around, not for the first time. “I hate this place.”

    “A lot of bad memories for you lie down here.”

    “Some good ones too,” Azazel said, smiling brightly.

    How Vlad loved his smile. Azazel hardly smiled, which made these rare moments special, but when he did, it lit up the room.

    Before he knew it, Vlad was grinning too, though for a different reason. Without any real subtlety, he bent down and kissed Azazel with vigor, ignoring the cat calls and whistles throughout the room.He pushed his tongue through parted lips and ran it along Azazel’s teeth, he even went so far as to grind their crotches together, before pulling away.

    Azazel‘s dazed expression was priceless.

    “I’m not that good,” Vlad said, snapping Azazel to attention.

    Azazel blinked a few times before looking around. He blushed deeply at all the attention and hid his face in Vlad’s robes, causing the taller man to laugh. “Come on, the longer Kaggren waits, the longer the bastard will whine.”

    - -

    Even before the door opened, Kaggren was taking a breath to yell at the couple.Azazel stuck his head in the room and somehow, the King of Hell felt his anger melt away. Only for a moment.

    “Where the hell have you been?!” he shouted, glaring at the blonde.

    “Making out in a closet,” Vlad replied before Azazel could, pushing his way into the room. He waited for Azazel to close the door before continuing. “Unlike you, I still get some action.”

    Kaggren bit back his remark, instead returning his attention to Azazel, who fidgeted. “We weren’t…” he trailed off, letting the sentence die in the air. “What did you need us for?”

    Kaggren snorted. “Gentlemen, this is Ivan Winters. He is visiting under orders from Michael, the sniveling moron. Ivan has requested Azazel to take him around, show him the sights, you know, other worthless things I can’t be bothered with.”

    “This dump has sights? Why wasn’t I aware of this?”

    Azazel glared at Vlad before turning to the angel next to Kaggren.

    Dark brown eyes smiled at him from beneath darker brown hair. His wings were neat and trimmed, the ivory feathers glimmering in the torch light, a sharp contrast to his tanned skin. He wore typical robes, which were tied together by a thin golden cord around his waist. “So,” he said, clapping his hands. “Which of you gentlemen is Azazel?”

    Azazel and Vlad glanced at each other before turning back to the angel.

    “I am,” Azazel replied, stepping forward to shake Ivan’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

    “Likewise.” Ivan grinned. “I believe I’m going to enjoy visiting here. Tell me, are all fallen lovely as you?”

    Vlad growled, stepping toward Ivan, but Azazel held a hand up. “Mr. Winters, I appreciate the compliment, but let’s keep this strictly a professional relationship, please.”

    “Of course,” Ivan replied cheerfully. “My apologies.”

    Nodding, Azazel returned to Vlad, who wrapped his arm around the blonde’s waist.

    “Can we go now?” Vlad snarled. “You’ve wasted enough of my day, Kaggren.”

    “Yes, sure, why not. Go do something idiotic, like frolicking through the flowers; just get out of my sight.”

    - -

    Azazel sank into the soothing water slowly, relishing the warmth. The ends of his hair floated about him, but his wings, if he still had them, would have remained dry, hanging over the edge of the tub. “Perfect.” The heat did wonders for his sore muscles and tired body. “Just perfect.”

    Jets hummed rhythmically, gently spitting streams of water in all directions, causing the water to swirl.

    “I bet I could make it better.”

    Azazel peered at the doorway. “Really?” he asked. “How so, Vlad?”

    Vlad grinned lecherously and stepped into the room, shedding his clothes. “By joining you, of course.”

    “Of course. Silly me.”

    “Do you mind?”

    Azazel gave him an odd look. “Do I mind? Do you honestly have to ask?”

    “Well, just getting in would have been rude,” Vlad replied, stepping over the rim. He knelt down and settled on Azazel’s hips, still grinning.

    “Vlad…” Azazel groaned. “I wanted to relax.”

    “You can relax all you want.”

    “Not with you-”

    “Mm…”

    Slowly, Vlad licked down the side of Azazel’s neck and nibbled on his collar bone. Azazel’s eyelids fluttered in pleasure, a tiny whimper escaping his throat.

    Vlad continued lower to his chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and circling it with his tongue. He ravished Azazel’s upper torso, leaving no area of dry skin untouched. There would be no tormenting or harshness this time, only simple pleasure.

    When he reached the water, Vlad gazed up to Azazel’s face. His eyes were still closed, and his cheeks were flushed. Small, almost inaudible pants seeped through partly opened lips in a rhythmic pattern, which made Vlad smile.

    Because of the water, Vlad couldn’t follow through his original plan, so he retraced his path back to Azazel’s mouth, kissing him again as he wrapped his hand around his penis.

    Azazel opened his eyes, letting loose a strangled whimper. “Vlad…”

    “Shh.”

    Azazel sank deeper into the water as Vlad tightened and relaxed his grip. The brunette quickly fell into a pattern, adjusting easily when Azazel bucked his hips.

    The ecstasy began in his lower abdomen and spread, surging through his body like wild fire. Pleasure built until Azazel was at the peak, ready to go over the edge. “Vlad, I’m going to-”

    Before he finished the sentence, though, everything stopped. Vlad removed his hand and pulled away.

    “What?” Azazel asked as intelligently as he could.

    “I’m sorry, I tried.”

    Confusion began to fill his foggy head. “Vlad? What’s wr- Oh!”

    When Azazel finally returned to his senses, he yawned. “This isn’t what I meant by relaxing.”

    Vlad smiled and climbed out of the bath. “Really.”

    “Mm hmm.”

    “Tell you what,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll tuck you in to bed.” He didn’t give Azazel a chance to reply before he lifted him out. With one hand, he got a towel around the blonde and then carted him to the bedroom.


    Chapter Two: Crystal's(my) Chapter

    “Vlad,” Azazel yawned, curling up next to his lover, allowing the black wings to envelope him in a blanket of downy warmth. Nothing could compare to the wings of that of an Angel, unless they were the wings of a Fallen who was there during the first Fall. “Shouldn’t we be showing that….Ivan person around?”

    “Why would you want to do that,” Vlad asked, rubbing Azazel’s head. “Besides, Kaggren gave us the rest of the day. You know as well as I do that is a rarity in itself.”

    Nodding, Azazel began to drift off into a fitful sleep; one that he felt would leave him refreshed to stare down anything the next day would try to throw at him.

    Vlad on the other hand was wide awake, holding Azazel close. He didn’t like Ivan, the way he looked with those disconnected eyes, always like he was thinking and not really listening to what either of them had to say. And why would Michael send anyone down to Hell anyway, let alone make Azazel show them around the place where torture was commonplace and where those of Heaven’s decent were afraid to even tread since they would most likely never return from those gates. Things weren’t adding up in his mind, which made him more defensive of his naive Fallen then ever.

    “Look at the two little Fallen, all cozy and dozing,” Vlad heard a voice snicker. Peering up, he could see Ivan’s shadowed figure leaning against the door way, arms folded in arrogance and crooked cocky smile plastered on his face. Wings of icy white stood in contrast to the dark wood, which made Vlad want to jump up right then and there. However, Azazel was keeping the wing beneath him pinned and Vlad would rather keep both of his wings.

    “What the fuck do you think you’re doing in OUR fucking house,” Vlad growled. And those of the Wind were supposed to be the peaceful ones of the Elements. Well, everything had their black sheep, and Ivan was proving to be one of them. “I don’t remember either of us inviting you in here.”

    “Kaggren suggested it,” Ivan replied, eyes roving over the scene before him. “And where is Azazel? I surely thought that he would be in here with you.”

    “If you must know,” Vlad growled. “He’s right here with me.” Pealing the top wing off a little, showing Azazel’s sleeping face, he quickly covered it back up, not wanting to disturb the sleeping Fallen. It was bad enough that Ivan was there to disturb his peace; he didn’t need to disturb Azazel’s.

    “I see,” Ivan said, eyes narrowing a bit.

    “Did you honestly think that he’d be somewhere else,” Vlad yawned, wanting nothing more then to drift off to sleep. He knew that he’d have to deal with the irate Wind Angel the next day, showing him the torture chambers, different territories, and other such ‘sights’ that Hell had to offer. True, it was appointed to Azazel, but they had come to the agreement that he knew a little more about this plane and would direct the trio towards the most ‘impressive’ sights. “And why are you even in here? I’m sure you seen the spare bedrooms when you came in.”

    Ivan didn’t give him a response, and opted instead just to smile, flip him the bird, and walk away. Vlad growled at the gesture, but didn’t do anything about it. He figured that he’d just ‘accidently’ hit him with a whip or two during a demonstration. Oh, did that sound nice.

    Yawning, he laid his head down on the pillow, and smiled as Azazel instinctively curled closer, seeking warmth. Drifting off, he slept away the evils of the day, but hung onto the plans for revenge for later use.

    *Insert some sort of AWESOME scene separator here*

    “And this,” Azazel said, walking through the endless hallways of chained mortal and Fallen souls, each screaming a blood curdling scream. “The demons you see here are deaf, so the noise doesn’t affect the work. And as you can hear, they are good at what they do.”

    The burly beasts resembled orges, or more of the beasts resembled them. Thick green skin covered bulky muscles and beady red eyes watched their handy work. On them they wore rags of brown and deep forest green, making the fable turn reality in the firey depths of Hell. In their oversized hands, they held cat of nine tails, clubs, and whips with curved blades at the end, and handled them expertly. The souls would cry out in their tortured state as one of the weapons connected to them, tearing the souls bit by bit.

    “I never knew that souls could tear so easily,” Ivan said, much more steadily then any Angel of Heaven should have ever been able to. “They seem so fragile without their egos to hold them up.”

    Azazel shuddered, at the screams and moans of those that had been sent to Hell because of their transgressions. He had been here so many times, witnessing the same thing over and over again as well as experiencing some of the same tortures. Even if they weren’t from the hideous creatures before him, it didn’t change the fact that he had been chained up once. By his own kind, whipped for things that he never had seen as evil before, torn because he made a few slip ups, and now wingless and one of the Fallen. How one of Heaven’s direct decent and never knowing such evils could ever be able to stomach such sights and sounds, he could not fathom, nor really wanted to.

    “Then you don’t know the mortal soul very well,” Vlad replied, watching passively. “They are what they were when they had a mortal body. The same fragile personality with the protective masks and even the strength of the heart removed. That is their divine punishment of disobedience. You of all beings should know that.”

    Ivan didn’t look at Vlad, but kept his eyes on Azazel, watching how the other was nervous around such goings on. Yes, this was working out rather well. He was learning Azazel’s weaknesses very fast, and he was sure that the other was having some memories return. Yes, he had been there for some of the punishments he had to go through, Michael wanting a public example and all. Upper lip curving slightly upward, Ivan had his gears turning, as they ever were when planning mischief.

    Azazel took in a deep breath as they passed the last of the main torture place, determined to get somewhere else for a little while and not have to listen to those ever present screams. They reminded him too much of his own. Vlad had suggested a few other places, but each of them contained the same horrors that existed over here. Sighing, he decided in the end to get them over with. So that he could return to Kaggren’s castle and get some rest at least. Then, hopefully, both of them would get leave and be able to go up to the mortal plane and take a break from this place. However, he had a sinking feeling that such an option was just a foolish hope, but hung onto it anyway.

    “Where are we going next,” Ivan asked passively, trying his hardest to make Vlad defensive. Oh, the looks the older Fallen gave him were priceless and he couldn’t seem to get enough of them. That and it was fun, which was always a bonus in his book.

    “To the pits,” Azazel responded with a deep sigh. He hated it down there, the heat was at its most intense down there and the smell of brimstone and burning souls were everywhere. Not to mention a pain in the butt to get out of his robes and hair. “That will be all for today.”

    “Why will that be all?”

    “I don’t want to go into it,” Azazel replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I really don’t.”

    “I have yet to see what’s so horrible,” Ivan shrugged. “After all, it’s not you that they’re doing all of this too.”

    It took everything Vlad had not to go kick Ivan where the sun didn’t shine, grab a whip, and just show the Angel exactly what it felt like to be under such administrations. He had a feeling that Ivan had been there to witness some of the tortures that Azazel had to endure under Heaven’s rule, and that fact just angered him more. For some reason, this little punk was intent on pissing him off and trying to make Azazel feel like nothing but a speck of dirt. To tell the truth, he was getting rather sick of it.

    Azazel didn’t respond, but led the way to the pits. He could see the orange glow in the distance from the cavern that the whippings took place, and just the fact that they were so close made him shudder. True, he had never had those horrors thrown upon him, but all those screams, all those that had transgressed against the law was sickening, as were the treatments that were bestowed upon them. It just reminded him of the ‘horrors’ that he had inflicted upon the mortal realm and therefore caused most of them to be trapped in this place for all eternity with no hope of ever escaping. That fact was ever eating away at him, although he tried his hardest not to let it.

    When they arrived at the place, they were greeted by tall cliffs with dragons carved into the sides, guarding large black iron gates. Smoke billowed from the pits of fire and agony as the screams made their way up from the place. Staring at them with glaring icy violet eyes was a goblin, sickly green skin wrinkled and scrunched all over, covered only by a loin cloth since his position demanded that he try to keep himself cool, although it seemed that most of his efforts were in vain with the constant sheen of pea colored sweat.

    “What do you want here, Fallen,” the rough voice growled out. “And why are you with one of those Heaven brood? They aren’t supposed to be down here.”

    “I am here by orders of Michael,” Ivan said passively.

    “And I have been instructed by Kaggren to show him the sights of Hell,” Azazel sighed.

    “And what is this other Fallen doing,” the goblin asked, staring at Vlad disapprovingly.

    “I am here because I know more then him,” Vlad replied, leaning an elbow on Azazel’s shoulder. “And I would like to keep an eye on the Heaven brood so that there is less chance for trouble.”

    Nodding, the goblin opened the rusty gates, and the trio entered into the heat, smoke, brimstone, and screams that made Hell famous for being a place of utter torment and damnation.


    Chapter Three: Sara's Chapter

    “It certainly was hot in there,” Ivan commented as they made their way back to Kaggren’s palace. “What are we going to do next?”

    “Nothing,” Vlad growled. “Go away.”

    Ivan looked put out. “You don’t really want me to leave,” he turned to Azazel, “right?”

    Azazel stared blankly at the brown haired angel. He was tired, his feet hurt, and he didn’t particularly care what Ivan did. “Sure,” he replied quietly. “Fine… wait… what?”

    Ivan smiled. “It’s settled then,” he said, clapping his hands. “We’ll play cards or something.”

    “I didn’t mean-” Before Azazel could finish the protest, Ivan was walking away from them. He looked over his shoulder once, waved for them to follow him, and disappeared into the portal to the mortal realm. Azazel sighed deeply and turned to Vlad, who was fuming.

    “He’s so annoying! I want to wring his neck,” Vlad exclaimed.

    “We know the way home better than he does,” Azazel pointed out. “We can throw his luggage out the window and lock the doors.”

    Vlad smiled for the first time the entire day. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

    - -

    Unfortunately for the duo, Ivan seemed to be one step ahead of them. When they arrived at their home, he was perched on a counter, drinking a mug of (Vlad’s!) coffee. “Took you two long enough.”

    Vlad, whether it was exhaustion from the day or the failed attempts to make Ivan leave, stood in the doorway, eyes wide and mouth forming silent words. After a few seconds, he gave up. “Fine!” he yelled. “Whatever!”

    Both Azazel and Ivan watched curiously as the man stormed down the hall.

    “Oh dear…” Azazel whispered when a door slammed. He automatically moved to follow, but Ivan grabbed his wrist.

    “Give him time to cool off,” Ivan said. “Come on, we can talk for a while.”

    Azazel was caught between what he wanted to do, be with Vlad, and what he should, as the host, do. Eventually, accompanying Ivan seemed the best choice, so Azazel led him to the living room.

    “You have a lovely home,” Ivan said, looking around the comfortably decorated room. There was nothing lavish in the area, just a fluffy couch and two chairs forming a semi-circle around a coffee table. An oil painting of a mountainous landscape hung above a captivating fireplace. “It complements you very well.”

    “It should,” Azazel replied coolly. “I do, after all, live here.”

    Ivan nodded absently. “Did you paint the picture?”

    He received no answer for quite a while; Azazel was lost in thought. “Yes,” he said sadly. “A very long time ago. I haven’t had time to do so as of late.”

    “Because of Vlad?”

    “Of course not. I’ve been too busy.” Azazel stood. “Please excuse me. It’s been quite a day and I think we should go to bed.”

    Ivan followed him. “There’s no need to hide,” he whispered. “Vlad simply isn’t cultured like you and I.”

    Azazel’s glare could have stopped even Kaggren in mid step. “Don’t talk like he’s below you, Mr. Winters,” the blonde growled, opening the door to his bedroom. “He’s plenty cultured.

    “What I meant was,” Ivan leaned in closely, “are you sure he’s the right match for you? After all, Vlad is a fallen, trained to kill. He’s more harmful than kind. How long until his true nature is revealed and he takes his anger out on you?”

    “I have nothing to worry about,” Azazel replied. “Vlad wouldn’t hurt me.”

    “But, if he does?”

    “I have nothing to worry about,” Azazel repeated, closing the door in Ivan’s face and leaning heavily against the wood. “Because I’m a fallen too.”

    - -

    The next morning was calmer. For the first time ever, Vlad woke before Azazel. He smiled at Azazel’s sleeping form before slipping into his robe and quietly slinking from the room. To his joy, Ivan was still asleep as well. Yawning, Vlad began the first coffee pot of the day, one of many, and rooted around in the pantry for something edible. Unfortunately, he didn’t cook very often, sans toast and bacon, so the location of the cookbooks was somewhat of a mystery. Even after he found them, they were little help; one was in German, the other filled with complicated recipes he could never hope to decipher.

    “Toast it is,” he muttered, reaching for the bag. This was pathetic! Here he was, lost in his own kitchen. He was growing too dependant on his blonde counterpart.

    Even as he thought this, Azazel came in, rubbing his eyes. His loose bathrobe hung over horrifyingly thin shoulders, giving way around his knees to cotton pajama bottoms.

    “Good morning,” Vlad greeted.

    Azazel replied with a smile and sank into a chair. Vlad joined him at the table, coffee mug in hand. He set a cup of tea in front of Azazel. “Did you sleep well?”

    The tired blonde nodded. He hadn’t slept well, but why ruin Vlad’s seemingly good mood? “What about you?” he asked, sipping his tea.

    “My night could have been better, in all actuality. It would have been wonderful if he wasn’t here.”

    Azazel nodded and returned his attention to his tea. He jumped, however, when the toaster popped, which made Vlad laugh.

    “It’s not nice to laugh at people,” Azazel murmured, watching Vlad smear butter on the crispy bread.

    “Sorry,” Vlad replied, setting the two pieces on the table. “And sorry about breakfast.”

    Azazel looked forlornly at the toast. “Do you want me to cook?”

    Vlad tried hard not to show his enthusiasm for the idea, he really did. Suddenly completely awake, Azazel began to move about the kitchen energetically, pulling things from the cupboards and the refrigerator. Within moments he was whipping batter in a bowl like a crazed man. Vlad was awestruck, not a single drop escaped the bowl.

    “You should open a restaurant up here,” he said. “You’d put those humans out of business.”

    “Perhaps.”

    When Ivan entered as well, the kitchen became congested in Vlad’s opinion. “Good morning, Azazel,” Ivan exclaimed. “And you too, Vlad. I wasn’t expecting you to be up.”

    Vlad opened his mouth to speak, but Azazel was quick to interject. “He was up before I was. It was a pleasant surprise. He even made my tea,” he said brightly.

    “Did he now?”

    “Mm hmm.” Azazel poured the batter into neat little circles on the skillet. “Which was very considerate, don’t you agree?”

    Ivan glanced at Vlad, who was beaming at Azazel. “Yes, I suppose it was.”

    Twenty minutes later, the group was too busy eating to talk.


    Chapter Four: Crystal's(my) Chapter

    “Vlad, was that really necessary,” Azazel asked, following the fuming Fallen down the hallway.

    Vlad didn’t look at his companion, but kept on walking at his fast pace. He needed to get out of there for two reasons. One was a very angry Leader of the Fallen of Shadows and the other would most likely be a few other beings that would be after them shortly. He pissed off more then his fair share of important beings in one sitting, and still came out pissed. This whole situation was going from bad to worse in very short periods of time which made him feel like his hair was going to fall out.

    “I’m sure that Kaggren got the point though,” Azazel continued, looking back at the empty hallway. “Apparently, they were all too shocked to move…”

    Again, no reply from Vlad was forthcoming as they walked rather briskly down the halls of Kaggren’s palace. He was too busy fighting the two sides of his mind that said that either said that he had gone too far or not far enough. He couldn’t believe that he had lost his cool like that, and in front of the Leaders of all the other Elements as well. How stupid could he be?

    “You are so dead!!!”

    Upon hearing the roar of the Leader of the Shadows, Vlad threw all caution to the wind, took Azazel by the hand, and had them both running as fast as they could to the portal to the Mortal Plane. Ivan or not, he had to get out of here and let it cool down as much as Hell could. He had voiced his opinions, and knew that he was going to catch an earful for it. And he was stupid enough to have taken Azazel with him on his little venture. Well, misery and trouble both liked company and he sure was proving to be their little bitch.

    Upon arriving at the house, Vlad didn’t let up the pace until he was in his room, Azazel breathing just as heavily from having to keep up with him and happy to finally be able to question the Fallen of Shadows of his actions. Vlad sat on the bed, face buried in his hands as he took deep breaths, trying to calm his burning lungs. He knew that he was in for it by Azazel, which he thought was much better then Kaggren or the others, but that didn’t mean that he enjoyed it any better.

    “What were you thinking,” Azazel yelled, sitting on the floor. “Kaggren is going to have both of our heads for this!”

    “It’s his fault for making that damn annoyance stick around,” Vlad replied, taking his head from his hands. “I mean, Michael wants him to study us? What’s there not to know? He’s one of the reasons any of us are down here at all. After all, he cast a rather good portion of us down to this level himself.”

    “I don’t know,” Azazel admitted. “But I’m sure he has his reasons. And why Kaggren is making us do this is beyond me, but did you have to voice your…opinion…so loudly and with so much color?”

    “They got what they had coming to them,” Vlad replied dryly. “However, I do think you’re right on the colorful thing. But too late to take any of that back now.”

    Nodding, Azazel jumped as he heard the door creak open, with a pair of dark brown eyes staring at them. He was afraid that Vlad was going to snap and finally take care of Ivan right then and there, but something seemed to be holding him back. Intelligence? Azazel could only hope.

    “What are you doing here, Ivan,” Azazel asked, his tone more surprised then angry.

    “I heard yelling,” the Angel sighed. “And I hoped that I could finally make you see that he’ll never be what I could be for you…”

    “Get. Out,” Vlad ground out. “Before. I. Fucking. Kill. You.”

    “Vlad,” Azazel said in a small voice, scooting out of the way if the Fallen was going to go on the war path.

    “That’s no way…” Ivan began, but left too much in a hurry to finish after Vlad stood up, eyes promising a very slow and painful death. Something both knew that he would be able to pull off without much trouble.

    “Vlad,” Azazel said again, as the one in question sat back down on the bed, falling down, staring up at the ceiling. “What’s wrong?”

    “Why am I such a natural born fuck up,” Vlad sighed. “It seems that no matter what I do, there’s always something going against me. “

    “Don’t I know the feeling,” Azazel sighed. “But don’t worry. I’m sure that everything will clear up soon and they’ll leave us both alone for awhile.”

    Getting up, falling to his knees, Vlad held onto the only being that gave his life meaning anymore. The only voice of reason in the chaos of his mind. As corny as it sounded in his mind even, he couldn’t find the willpower to take it back, since it was the truth. He just held Azazel tight, trying to get his bearings straight again, although his efforts seemed futile.

    -scene change-

    Ivan ran down the hallway, until he got to what was deemed as ‘his room’, where he wanting nothing more to hide under the bed. That was the first time that he had ever really been face to face with such an old power before. He knew that Vlad was slightly older then Azazel, but the younger didn’t have that imposing figure, that essence of danger. Vlad had it, and he had shown that he could use it as well, with just by the look of his eyes.

    “Michael,” he called, and almost instantly, there was a projection of the Arch Angel in all his glory, arms folded and golden hair flowing around him with huge pure white wings folded loosely around him. “How am I supposed to go through with this with Vlad constantly watching my every move?”

    “Faith, little one,” Michael replied. “You are my best, and I have faith in you. You must have faith in yourself, and you will achieve what I have sent you for. I rarely make mistakes, Ivan. Azazel was the first in many millennia.”

    “I understand,” Ivan replied with a bow. “But he’s always with his protector. I don’t think that I’ll be able to get him alone, and he ignores my advances.”

    “He did some work himself,” Michael smiled. “He and Kaggren are neck and neck right now, meaning that a brief separation is coming and then is when you strike, Ivan.”

    Bowing again, Ivan watched as the image shattered into billions of small golden shimmers. So all he had to do was wait for Kaggren to summon Vlad for something. He had heard a little of the conversation as he was curious as to why Vlad was practically running with Azazel struggling to keep up. Azazel. He was an Angel as far as he knew and therefore higher then Vlad. Then why did it seem that he’d rather have Vlad boss him around like he did? What was really going on?

    Deciding not to meddle in affairs that were above his status, Ivan fell face down into his bed, inhaling the soft scent of the laundry detergent that the covers had been washed in. Yes, Azazel deserved so much better. And with Michael promising that he would have his prize, to show him what a real lover would be like, he was sure that Vlad would fall into a pit of madness. Would serve him right, thinking that he could take what rightfully belonged to Heaven and therefore himself.

    Allowing himself to drift off and plot, a small smile crept across his face as the images of Azazel smiling only for him filled his fantasies and dreams. Even if he knew that with the current set of circumstances, it would never happen like he wanted.