lux_mariko (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lux_mariko) wrote2019-03-04 12:38 am
lux_mariko) wrote2019-03-04 12:38 am
Entry tags:
Wanted
Story: Wanted
Year:
Word Count: 334
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Gabriel
Warnings: References to war/civil war, parental abandonment/neglect, memory erasure, brief reference to interspecies sex. I think that covers everything. If I missed something, please let me know.
Notes: Gabriel is here referring to Simon, and uses his birth name.
Gabriel had never wanted to have a child.
It wasn’t what he was made for--he was a messenger, not a parent. But Michaela had asked, and he had never refused Michaela before. It wasn’t in his nature.
If he’d known how much his poor child would suffer, though, he might have tried.
But Michaela had asked, and so he had gone to Earth, to a sweet human woman, and he’d told her everything, of course, because that was what he was. He told people things.
He wondered, sometimes, if Michaela had allowed her to remember him.
And then his son was born, and he’d kept watch over him, of course, and learned too late what was expected of his child. He’d been angry then. He’d actually dared to be angry with Michaela. And his sibling had simply given him one of those blank, cool looks that meant he’d crossed a line. And he’d quailed, and cowered, and backed down.
And as time went on, as he watched his son grow, as he made occasional attempts to help him (which were rarely, if ever, successful), he came to the sad conclusion that he was a poor excuse for a father, and he should have refused the order. His son might have been better served if another angel had done Michaela’s work.
But, at the same time, he couldn’t regret his child, his Judas. As much as he’d failed him, and as much as that child suffered, and as little direct contact as they’d been able to manage, he couldn’t help but feel that, without his child, his Judas, his world would be darker and emptier. He couldn’t imagine life without him, any more than he could imagine life without his remaining siblings--any more than he could, for that matter, stop wishing that, somehow, his beloved lost sister would come home, and things would be as they were.
No, Gabriel had never wanted to have a child, but the one he had, he worshipped.
Year:
Word Count: 334
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Gabriel
Warnings: References to war/civil war, parental abandonment/neglect, memory erasure, brief reference to interspecies sex. I think that covers everything. If I missed something, please let me know.
Notes: Gabriel is here referring to Simon, and uses his birth name.
Gabriel had never wanted to have a child.
It wasn’t what he was made for--he was a messenger, not a parent. But Michaela had asked, and he had never refused Michaela before. It wasn’t in his nature.
If he’d known how much his poor child would suffer, though, he might have tried.
But Michaela had asked, and so he had gone to Earth, to a sweet human woman, and he’d told her everything, of course, because that was what he was. He told people things.
He wondered, sometimes, if Michaela had allowed her to remember him.
And then his son was born, and he’d kept watch over him, of course, and learned too late what was expected of his child. He’d been angry then. He’d actually dared to be angry with Michaela. And his sibling had simply given him one of those blank, cool looks that meant he’d crossed a line. And he’d quailed, and cowered, and backed down.
And as time went on, as he watched his son grow, as he made occasional attempts to help him (which were rarely, if ever, successful), he came to the sad conclusion that he was a poor excuse for a father, and he should have refused the order. His son might have been better served if another angel had done Michaela’s work.
But, at the same time, he couldn’t regret his child, his Judas. As much as he’d failed him, and as much as that child suffered, and as little direct contact as they’d been able to manage, he couldn’t help but feel that, without his child, his Judas, his world would be darker and emptier. He couldn’t imagine life without him, any more than he could imagine life without his remaining siblings--any more than he could, for that matter, stop wishing that, somehow, his beloved lost sister would come home, and things would be as they were.
No, Gabriel had never wanted to have a child, but the one he had, he worshipped.