I Thought of Angels, Choking On Their Halos [open]

[wentdowntogeorgia]

Lucifer falls.

This is old news for everyone involved. He fell from Grace, he fell from Heaven, and after the so long awaited confrontation in Stull Cemetery, he and his once-beloved brother and the promise of violence, he fell back into the Cage in the body of Sam Winchester.

Now, when he falls, he feels a shift around him like the universe cracking open at the seams; there is the smell of ozone and a lightning-snap that’s louder than even Sam’s fearful internal monologue, louder than the terror that pounds his frantic mortal heart at the sight of Perdition yawning wide beneath him. He is yanked sideways, sudden lateral movement that would be dizzying if he had a center of balance to upset, a rip-tide pulling him in and down and through the rabbit-hole, shadow-thin and darkling deep.

The body that is supposed to be his—that has had his name written over and across and around every fiber of its being since its conception—is suddenly far away, and he is wrapped in the old, familiar skin of a vessel he’d left dying in Detroit, flesh given freely rather than claimed by divine right. And then he is a streak in the sky that hits water and sinks like a stone.

Under the water, cold and getting colder from the seed crystal that is his freezing Grace in its mortal house, he can feel the vast emptiness where Heaven should be above him and isn’t; the universe is silent and it is deafening, a tinnitus ring where there should be angels’ voices. Lucifer grabs two fistfuls of space-time and pulls, moving himself from under the water to standing in the shallows at the bank, and behind him the lake’s surface is already frozen over thick like it’s the dead of winter. The water around his feet is sluggish and barely liquid, filmed over top with a thin frozen layer that breaks and flows around his ankles.

Someone approaches him with a towel, and there is no Hell below him and above him only sky, and he makes no reply; he banishes the water from his clothes with a thought before he puts his fist right through the man’s chest.

[[ooc: So this is going to be the hottest of messes; see mod comment for post instructions and fun stuff like that.]]

[[TW: gore, major character death.]]

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[peeta_mellark]

Lying there on the ground, Daine snarling in his face, Peeta clings to her more tightly. He doesn't have to be an animal to understand what she's saying.

"No. Daine, stop. Please. Whatever that man is, you won't be able to stop him. You probably won't even be able to hurt him. He'll kill you, he'll kill you just like--" His voice cracks and he cuts off abruptly, unable to say their names. Unable - now that he has looked away - to look back at their still forms. "Daine, please."

In this form, Daine is too much for him to drag or carry. So he simply adds his legs to the mix, rolling to his side and wrapping his legs around her as well, holding on to her for dear life with his whole body.

[wildmage_daine]

He doesn't know that. He can't know that she couldn't have done anything, couldn't have saved them… all he did was make sure she never got the chance to try. How dare he look at her with Edgar's eyes and ask her to give up?

She twists around again, angry and heartsick and unable to look at him any longer. With his legs wrapped around her, all she can manage is an awkward half-rotation, but it's enough for her to look back across the lawn.

The monster is gone.

Daine wrests a paw free and digs her claws into the dirt, straining for a glimpse of him, but there's no sign. It's as if he's vanished into thin air, leaving only two sorry little forms crumpled on the grass. Trembling, she lets out a cry that could almost pass for a 'no,' but it doesn't summon back the monster, and it doesn't stop Peeta. He just won't let go of her, not even when she roars her protest again, and again, too weary to lash out at him and too angry to stop fighting entirely.

[peeta_mellark]

Even as a cat, the blame in Daine's eyes is unmistakable. The roar she lets out as she twists away sounds almost human, and a shiver runs up and down Peeta's spine. There's something different about the way she is straining against him, though, and he forces himself to look around.

The man - the thing - is gone. Peeta quickly pulls his gaze away from the small, distant forms on the ground where he was and makes a quick survey of the surrounding area. Finding it clear, he finally lets go of Daine.

Even as he pushes himself to his feet, arms shaking slightly from the effort of holding Daine, his eyes swing back to Edgar and Almondine's bodies.

[wildmage_daine]

For a few moments she stays crouched low to the ground, her only concession to her belated freedom a slight shift to get her paws beneath her again. Then, she pushes herself upright, bones and muscles aching. It's with no small amount of bitterness that she realizes Peeta got his dratted wish. She isn't in any shape to fight anyone, now; she's used up too much of herself trying to get away from him.

But she can still do right by her friends. There's no threat of stormwings, here, but she won't… she can't just leave them out here for someone else to find. She'll bring them home back. She has strength enough for that.

It's without any feline grace that she approaches the bodies, her movements stiff and sore. She can't bear to do more than glance at Almondine as she slowly walks past - Almondine who was so clever, and so good, and who Daine failed so completely. When she reaches Edgar, she sits down heavily by his side. This close, it's clear that there was nothing gentle about his death, however it looked from a distance. Reaching out a paw, she carefully wipes away the blood streaking his jaw, where the thing had grabbed him.

[peeta_mellark]

Peeta is a little surprised that Daine doesn't take off after the thing as soon as he releases her, despite her obvious weariness. When she begins to move toward the bodies instead, Peeta follows close behind, understanding her intentions.

He stops by Almondine, a few paces away from Daine and Edgar. Edgar is on his back, eyes open, staring blankly up at the sky. For the space of a heartbeat, Peeta sees other eyes, other faces, memories imposing themselves on the scene. But the horror of his own empty eyes, his own pale face - younger and so achingly still - cuts through all of that. He has a moment where he feels untethered, as if his insides aren't lining up correctly with the outside of his body.

The signs of violence that were hidden by distance are now startlingly clear, and Peeta looks away from the marks on Edgar's neck. Daine isn't meeting his eyes, but he focuses on her anyway.

"We should take them to the base," he says, voice barely above a whisper. They shouldn't have to lie out here any longer, and the thing could always come back.

[wildmage_daine]

Daine still can't quite look at Peeta, but her ear swivels in his direction when he speaks. At least he's had the same idea. She's sure she has one more shape in her, but two trips would have been difficult.

Can she get Edgar without help? Despite her lingering anger toward Peeta, she'd as soon spare him the grim task of carrying the body of someone who could be his twin. If she can just get under him, and then change her shape very carefully… as if he's just asleep, and she doesn't want to wake him…

We will help you, wing-sister. Daine lifts her head and blinks. A hawk has landed on the grass a few feet away from her. A moment later, a familiar raccoon waddles over, and he's soon joined by a few of the larger stray dogs she's been tending. All of us will help you, one of the dogs agrees as another hawk and an osprey alight on the lawn.

Thank you, Daine says gratefully, thinking to herself that it's just as well that leopards can't cry.

It takes a few minutes for her to get Edgar arranged on her back, her friends gently tugging at sleeves and cuffs to keep him from falling off as she slowly shifts into the larger, sturdier shape of a mountain pony. The bigger dogs brace their paws on her flanks to make sure he's centered, and the birds grip talonfuls of his shirt to tug him forward so he won't slide off the back. Thank you, Daine says again as most of the animals move off a little - enough to give them space, but not so far that they can't jump in if needed. The raccoon - Cleverpaws - has wound up sitting at the base of her neck, Edgar's head cradled in his tiny, almost-human forepaws.

Daine's an experienced enough rider to have a good idea of what a pony needs to do to keep a person from falling off, but she still takes extra care as she slowly turns herself toward the base. She glances toward Peeta to see if he's ready, her head jerking a little in an equine wince at the sight of Almondine bundled in his arms. Then, she resolutely steps forward.

[peeta_mellark]

Peeta watches in muted fascination as the gathered animals help Daine with Edgar's body. He feels that providing his own assistance would be intrusive and unwanted, so he stays where he is while the People maneuver and Daine slowly changes her form. Once Edgar is settled on Daine's back, head held by a raccoon in a position that feels like it should look silly but instead makes Peeta's chest ache, Peeta kneels by Almondine.

Gently, he lifts her from the ground, cradling her against his body. She's still warm, but heartrendingly still in his arms. He holds her close.

He turns to Daine, who - seeing that he is ready - sets off, Peeta following a few steps behind. He hears the flutter of wings behind them as the birds take to the air again and knows, without looking, that the People are following them. Supporting Daine, honoring Almondine and Edgar.

Peeta keeps half his focus on Daine, half on the area around them. He keeps putting one foot in front of the other, heartsick and angry and weary to his bones. It's a familiar combination, but it takes him a few minutes to recognize why. He feels like he did in the arena, in that time between fights for his life, when the desperate rush was over and the horror of what had been seen and done finally had room to stretch inside him.

[wildmage_daine]

The walk seems to take much longer than it should. Most of Daine's focus is on the subtle shift of the body on her back. Each little movement sends a jolt through her as some small, desperate part of her thinks Edgar might be stirring, though hope never has a chance to fully materialize before a fresh stab of loss hits her. Followed, inevitably, by the worry that she'll accidentally drop him.

She can feel the tickling of little claws as birds briefly alight on her mane, lending her bits of their strength before flying off and letting others take their place. She can't thank them all individually, but she knows they can feel her gratitude beneath the heavy weight of her sorrow.

They're nearly halfway back before she even realizes that two-leggers are staring. She doesn't bother to acknowledge the gawkers, though if any tried to get too close, she wouldn't hesitate to bite them. Most of them just look, though, hands over their mouths - or phones out, filming. She and her friends must be quite the spectacle, she realizes with mingled resignation and contempt. Don't any of them have better things to do?

Fortunately, they manage to make it to the subway entrance without any ugly incidents. Daine pauses there as it belatedly occurs to her that she's going to have to navigate stairs. In this shape, it's not a problem, but with what she's carrying… well. She'll just have to be careful, and trust her friends to be quick. Still, she allows herself a moment to heave an audible sigh and gather her strength - and the strength she's been gifted - for this last stretch.

[peeta_mellark]

Thanks to the Games, Peeta is used to attracting attention. He's used to stares and pointing and whispers, so the actions of the people they pass don't faze him. If anything, he finds them comforting - if there are spectators, it means they aren't running from anyone (anything). It means that, for the moment at least, whatever it was that was in the park isn't nearby. So while he doesn't make eye contact with anyone they pass, he keeps individuals in his peripheral vision.

After what feels like hours, they finally make it to the subway entrance. When Daine pauses there, Peeta does, too. For a moment, he isn't sure why she stops. Then he remembers the stairs.

"Do you - do you need me to help you?" he quietly asks. He isn't sure if she wants his assistance, or if she even needs it. There's every chance that she can manage the stairs without any problems.

[wildmage_daine]

Daine flicks her ears back at Peeta's question, then she shakes her head. He can't do anything her friends couldn't do just as well. And she's had about as much of Peeta's help as she can stand.

She gathers her haunches beneath her so back stays level as she carefully makes her way down the stairs. It's a surefooted shape she's in, which helps a great deal, but it's still not easy going. In the end, it takes two of the hawks to keep Edgar from sliding off as Daine makes her way down to the entrance to the base.

Once she's reached it, all her friends except Cleverpaws leave her. She can feel Sarge and Molly just on the other side of the door - they must've broken out of her room - and it's not overly surprising when Phil cracks open the door before she can knock her hoof against it.

"Daine," he says, and then he sees what she's carrying and falls silent, stepping back to let them in.

[peeta_mellark]

Peeta isn't surprised when Daine declines his offer, but it still hurts to watch her edge her way down the stairs and not be able to help. He waits until she reaches the bottom - the base door opening before she even makes a move to request entrance - before hurrying down after her. He meets Phil's eyes as he follows Daine inside, and reads the horror in his gaze.

When Peeta spots Sarge and Molly, his first reaction is mild surprise; Daine never lets them roam free inside. But then he realizes what must have happened and is sick all over again at the thought of them sensing Daine's distress but having no idea what was happening and not being able to get to her.

Almost immediately after the thought crosses his mind, he belatedly thinks of what he's carrying and what it will mean to them. Too late, he attempts to turn his body to block the dogs' view of Almondine.

Sarge sees her first, having turned to check on Peeta even as Peeta moved to turn away. He goes still for a heartbeat, then hunches over, head and tail drooping so much he seems to shrink in size. His whine draws Molly's attention, and the second she spots Almondine, her tail - already abnormally low - dips between her legs and her ears go back. She looks back to Daine, but Peeta keeps his gaze on the floor. He can feel all the emotions roiling just under the thin layer of numbness that shock and weariness have stretched around him, and he's half convinced that the combination of the dogs' and Daine's reactions will be his undoing. So he looks at the floor and waits to be told what to do.

[wildmage_daine]

Once Daine's cleared the doors, she stops and lets her head drop, her nose almost brushing the floor. It's both to put herself in reach of the dogs, who lick her face in frantic relief at finding her in one piece, and because she just can't hold her head up anymore. It's enough just trying to hold the shape, and she wants to - she has to make sure Edgar and Almondine are taken care of before she does anything else.

What happened? Molly asks as Sarge turns to check on Peeta. We heard you - all of us heard you! - and we thought…

Where's Edgar? Sarge asks, baffled and frightened. Then, Where's Almondine?

Daine shivers. It's not that either dog has missed the bodies - it's just that they don't understand where the rest of Edgar and Almondine have disappeared to, and they know enough to know they all ought to be of a piece. I'm sorry, she says, a tired exhalation stirring the dust and grit on the ground in front of her. I… I couldn't save them. She wants to say that she tried, but she'd rather not have to explain why she failed. Then, her mind-voice steady in a way her human voice couldn't be, They're dead.

But, Sarge starts. He doesn't seem to know where to go with it, though, and he whines. But… he says again, glancing between Daine and Peeta as if one of them will explain things in a way he'll understand.

Daine plods forward another pace, then halts again. She doesn't know where to go, either. If the rebels have a - a system for this kind of thing, she doesn't know what it is. So she stands, Molly nosing anxiously at her face, and half-listens as Phil makes a call on his little radio.