Work Text:
The confrontation was over, she had heard the trumpets sounding the end in the distance. It had lasted months, long months without resuming. She was promised freedom, a better life, free will... And now, on her knees and injured she realized, this rebellion had been for nothing, they had lost.
" Get up, traitor, " said the voice of an angel whom she had not seen approaching because of her eye injury which reduced her field of vision by half. " Anything to say in your defense ? "
" I- " she began but was cut off by a sharp blow to the jaw with the shaft of a spear splitting her lip completely open.
" It was a rhetorical question, we don't care about your excuses, " said the angel, putting a chain around her neck, strong and golden, the kind of chain she couldn't free herself from. He dragged her around like a common fairground animal, it was so humiliating. " Come on, line up, with the others. "
All the rebels who had not died during the battle had waited for days, standing at the edge of the precipice that would send them to an unknown place. She had understood that Lucifer, the leader, was already outside of heaven, already in this place where she will also go once the judgment is over.
She started to panic as the first ones were pushed, one by one. She had waited her turn, patiently, anxiously, even surprising herself by praying, by reflex. It would be useless now so she just stared at the ground until someone appeared in front of her, she didn't even dare to raise her head. The last thing she felt was a sharp impact on her shoulders before she fell backwards.
Her vision quickly blurred and all she saw was the receding clouds above her as she fell. She saw around her, the others having fallen at the same time, like little grayish blurry dots. At first it wasn't so terrible, she tried to use her wings to slow her fall but it didn't work. But this fall was not normal after all, she could only endure it, not stop it, it was as if an invisible force was pulling her downward. And then quickly everything started to darken and get hot, really hot, and on and on and on.
She hadn't even had time to get used to it when she had hit something hard head-on, repeatedly as if she were going through a multitude of layers of rocks. Many of her bones and wings had broken during these impacts, but it was not over because afterwards came one of the worst sensations of her life. To add to her fear, she was one of the unlucky ones who landed right in this pool. The burning liquid sulfur had instantly stuck to her skin, burning her flesh and what remained of her angelic grace. She had difficulty getting out.
The next few days she spent shaking in pain and shock just a few meters from that damn pool and more weeks suffering curled up in a corner. When she had recovered sufficiently, she was finally able to see her condition. All the wounds she had had during the war had given way to large scars instead of healing and the majority of her burns had now become areas of bluish scales. She had also destroyed her vocal cords by screaming, the sulfur had not helped, and had not been able to utter a word for those same weeks, when she was finally able to speak again, her voice sounded broken and hoarse.
She had become the Dagon known today. What was her name before ? She had forgotten, of course she had forgotten...
----
She opened her eyes in panic, nearly falling out of bed, and instantly stretched her arm to her right to find a cold, empty spot. It had been a long time since she had a nightmare about her fall, about four thousand years.
" Angel ? " she called but there was no response. " Michael ? "
The room was completely empty and dark, it was still night, it was only 3am. Usually she didn't care about being in a dark place like this, it was very similar to hell. However this time she was not at all comfortable, it even made her very anxious. Why did she have to have nightmares about this now ?? She wanted her angel, she needed her angel, now.
" ...Michael ? " she tried again.
She realized that she was alone and decided to get out of bed and walk towards the bathroom before leaning, head down, against the sink and took a deep breath. However, when she raised her head, she was not helped by the mirror there, reflecting back to her the truth that she had preferred to ignore for a long time. So she watched, even though she hated it. Her scales which could be sharp on certain parts of her body, especially those of her spine, sharp and shiny fangs, skin of an almost sickly color and so dry. How could Michael really like her touch with such rough skin ?
She wondered what she looked like before she looked like this, but she couldn't remember. What she was currently seeing seemed so horrible to her, she was quite grateful that there were no mirrors in hell, at least not in the areas she frequented.
Look at you, you are a failure, you're pathetic, a voice sounded in her head.
Maybe that was why Michael wasn't there. Maybe she was gone. That she had realized.
" Piss off ! " she shouted.
Out of shame, fear or disgust, she didn't know, maybe all three, she smashed her fist against the mirror. It broke into dozens of sharp pieces that seriously cut her hand and wrist, she didn't care. She backed up to the wall behind her before sliding down to the floor. She ran a hand through her hair, still pressed against the wall and trying to breathe properly, her heart was beating violently in her chest and her thoughts were swirling in her mind.
She pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms, she could feel her rough skin under her fingers and had the urge to rip off her scales, she had done that before. She felt tears gathering in her eyes and couldn't hold them back for long, it had also been four thousand years since this had happened. She was Duke of Hell, she was feared and respected, yet now she just looked like a scared child and thinking about it she furiously wiped her tears.
About an hour passed and she was so focused on her thoughts, or rather lost in her thoughts, that she didn't hear the front door open and close, nor the footsteps that followed. She also didn't notice when the bathroom door opened.
She was pulled out of her trance by the sensation of a hand sliding up her arm to her wrist where the pressure increased. Raising her head slowly, Dagon was greeted by an even pair of soft but worried blue eyes.
" Michael... "
" Try to breathe slowly, can you ? " said the brunette who was kneeling in front of her, holding her wrist firmly to slow the bleeding.
" You are here ? " Dagon asked to her in an almost detached voice.
" Of course I'm here, Dagon, I live here, we live here. "
" You weren’t there, I thought… you weren’t there. "
" I'm sorry, they asked me, upstairs, to come in the middle of the night. You were sleeping and I didn't want to wake you, " Michael told her while using a miracle to heal her hand. She had seen the state of the mirror and understood that the redhead had broken it herself. " Why did you break the mirror ? "
" It does not matter. "
" Dag... " muttered Michael, placing a hand on her cheek, wiping away a tear in the process.
" Stay with me ? "
" I stay with you. Come, " she took her hands to help her get up and bring her to their room.
They both sat side by side on their bed, Dagon refusing to let go of Michael's hand.
" Will you tell me what happened now ? " Michael asked her in her sweetest voice.
Dagon simply stared at their linked hands for several minutes without saying anything before dropping her head on the angel's shoulder.
"Just old memories. Stupid things I can't do anything about, " she replied.
" Old memories like memories of...that ? "
" Hmm, " muttered the redhead.
She leaned more against Michael who quickly understood what that meant. She lay down, allowing Dagon to settle more comfortably on top of her, her head resting against her chest. The brunette nevertheless managed to pull up the blanket to cover them.
" Hey, it's okay, you're safe now. I'm sorry, I won't leave without warning you anymore, " assured Michael, untangle a few knots in the mass of red hair.
Dagon nodded in understanding. She wanted to talk to her about it, she had for a while but for now she was just enjoying the feeling in her hair and the beating of her heart against her temple. About thirty minutes passed before she broke the silence.
" ...I miss them, " she whispered.
" Who are you missing ? " Michael asked while continuing to make tiny braids in the demon's red hair.
" My wings, " clarified Dagon.
" You can let them out here. I know you don't use them down there, you already told me. Beside, I'd love to see them. "
Once again, Dagon could not hold back her tears. She wiped her cheeks but it didn't go unnoticed by the angel. Michael wanted to ask her why she was crying but the redhead spoke first.
" ...I lied, " she said on a low voice.
" You lied ? " asked Michael, seeming surprised. Even though demons were known to lie, Dagon never lied to her.
" About my wings... " the demoness let out another sob. " I lost them the day I fell. That's why I don't use them... I just don't have any anymore, I'm sorry. "
She liked to tell herself that she didn't care... she was lying, she missed it and it always hurt her.
" Oh Dagon no, I'm sorry. I did not know. "
Michael thought about how she had never seen the demon's back. How many times Dagon had stopped her from touching her back, especially her bare back, even during their intimate moments, the redhead always managed so that she did not reach it. She always thought she just didn't like it, not that she was hiding something. Now she felt stupid for not thinking about it.
" Dagon, " said Michael hesitantly. " Can I see your back ? "
The redhead froze for a moment before simply tightening her grip around Michael's waist, without responding. Which the brunette interpreted as a yes.
" Okay, " muttered the angel.
Still lying on her stomach, Dagon was wearing only a gray shirt that was much too big. Not wanting to bother her, Michael simply made it disappear with a miracle. They had been together for two years now and this was the first time she had seen her like this.
Bright blue scales were on her shoulders, along her spine especially between her shoulder blades and a large number on her lower back, extending down to her hips. Her entire back was also dotted with visible scars but it was nothing compared to the two large vertical ones located at the level of her shoulder blades. They were long, almost thirty centimeters, red and inflamed, with burn marks, even physically it seemed painful. She was really struck by the vision.
Asking if she had ever had treatment for that would be stupid, it was obvious she hadn't.
" I can't give them back to you, " the brunette told her. " But I can cure this, if you want. "
" Hmm, " Dagon muttered again, squeezing the angel's waist tighter, it was her way of accepting.
" Alright then. "
Michael hesitantly placed her hands over the two large wounds. Dagon jumped at the contact, it had hurt her of course and the angel felt guilty for being the one who hurt her.
" Sorry, I have to do. "
Dagon quickly felt heat emanating from the Michael's hands. She knew she had no reason to be afraid so she tried to relax as much as possible and go back to sleep. She kept telling herself that she was safe with her angel.
These scars wouldn't disappear, their origin was divine after all, even Michael couldn't do anything about it. However, she was pleased with their new appearance, pink and slightly smaller. At least the wounds were permanently closed now.
" It shouldn’t hurt you now, " she said without having any answers.
She leaned down slightly and smiled when she saw her partner asleep and serene.
Her angel, that's all she wanted, all she needed right now.
