((Follows the events of Turn of Fates.))
Blood and pain came together in the awkward process of removing destroyed clothing with care to fill the quiet air of Ayden's bedroom in the dorm she shared with her best friend with some highly colorful curses. Despite how recently the slashes on her neck and arm had been inflicted, it had been long enough that the blood had begun to clot, sticking the wool of her top to her flesh as she and Ares worked together to peel the cloth away from her injuries. She was hoping not to have to call on a certain archangel, but the new flow of blood from her arm as her top was dropped to the floor was too much to countenance trying to pass it off as an accident of any kind. She whimpered softly at the pain in her neck, too, wincing as she looked up at Ares. "I'm gonna have to call someone to heal me," she told him, awkward and regretful. She had a feeling he wasn't going to get along with the angel on her shoulder.
He had been remarkably gentle as together they peeled the torn and bloodied clothing away from her wounded flesh. He, too, had been bloodied - and with a blade from which it would take time to heal - but the pain of his wound was nothing compared to the agony in his heart at seeing her hurt. He was only happy he hadn't lost her. "It's my fault, Ayden. I shouldn't have marked you. It was reckless and foolish on my part." He wished in that moment that he knew something of healing, but he was a warrior. The healing arts had never interested him much, until now. "Do you wish me to go?" he asked, not wanting to stay where he was not wanted or needed, though he was starting to care for her more than even he cared to admit.
Odd, how she had been so shy of him just a couple of days before, and yet here and now, she was perfectly content to sit close on the edge of her bed with him, virtually topless but for her bra, which wasn't exactly the most modest piece of clothing she could wish for. "None of this is your fault," she told him sternly. "If you hadn't been there, we'd all be dead. Seriously, a few cuts and bruises is worth it for what we managed to do today, and we couldn't have done it without you." She glanced at his wound with a frown. "Remind me when we're done with me to take a look at that for you." Pressing a fresh towel to her bleeding arm, she met his gaze as he offered to leave, sincere and certain in her reply. "Stay. Please. I-I feel safe with you around."
He waved off her concern over him with a shrug. "It's nothing. I'm fine." He'd had far worse, and in all truth, he was happy to offer up his own blood in sacrifice, so long as she was safe. "It was a trap, Ayden. They knew I marked you, and they set a trap to kill you," he pointed out, insisting her wounds were his fault, despite the fact that they had actually succeeded. He frowned at her, knowing who it was she would call on for help. Apollo was most likely busy watching over Dean and Nimue. He hoped they had succeeded in their quest, as well, but for now, all his thoughts and concerns were for Ayden. "You will call on the angel then."
"And they failed," she pointed out with a rueful smile. "Quit worrying about what?s done. And no getting out of it - I'm a med student, I'll drug you if I have to so I can clean that wound." She paused as he mentioned Gabriel, uncertain whether she was surprised or not that he knew about her archangel guardian. "He's gonna be pissed with me," she warned him quietly. "Try not to take too much offense. He's an *ss, but he tries."
He grunted, reluctantly admitting defeat. "And I'm a God. I'm afraid your drugs won't work on me." He shrugged again, stepping away so that she could call on her angel and he could do what he needed to do without him getting in the way. "He can be....pissed with me," he said, the modern vernacular a little awkward on his tongue, though he was slowly getting used to it.
"He might be," she snorted with laughter, taking a deep breath before raising her voice just a little. "Gabriel. Gabriel, I know you're sulking, but I really could use your help right now." She was startled by the almost instant response, her little dorm room suddenly feeling very crowded as the last remaining archangel on Earth popped into existence, deliberately putting himself between her and the Olympian God of War.
"Ares," Gabriel greeted the other being through gritted teeth, twisting to look over his shoulder at Ayden. "You ditched me for an oiled up poser like this?"
"Ditched?" Ares echoed, swinging a puzzled look at Ayden at all of the unfamiliar slang. He didn't really have to understand the words to know he was being insulted, however, and by a being he thought beneath him. After all, the Olympians had been there first, at least in Ares' mind, but in truth, it was all a matter of perspective. Chicken or the egg, anyone"
"Cast aside," Ayden provided the translation for Ares without thinking, without even realizing she was doing it, leveling a steady gaze on the archangel who was blocking her view of the Olympian in the first place. "And I never ditched you. I told you what we were doing."
Gabriel snorted, rolling his eyes. "After you'd already called this wuss into the mix," he pointed out. "I'd have told you what a dumb*ss idea it is to try and kill a Fate."
"Wuss?" Ares echoed, bristling. He no longer guessed the archangel was insulting him; he knew it for fact. There was no mistaking the tone of the angel's voice. "And you'd have been wrong. But I'm not really surprised to hear that from someone who was too cowardly to stand up to his own brothers. Do you know how Gabriel spent the last two thousand years? Trying to pass himself off as a god. Loki, no less. The Messenger of the Christian God playing tricks on humanity. How very becoming of you, Gabriel."
"Look, macho, I've been down here long enough to know how humans work," Gabriel bristled right back at him, the anger in his voice palpable following the mention of his brothers. "I stood with them against my brothers. Don't give me that crap - you're only here because you want in her panties."
Ayden scowled, reaching out to thump the archangel firmly in the back for that comment. "Less bitching, more healing," she informed him, and despite his obvious irritation,
Gabriel turned to lay his hands on her, the seeping wounds on her neck and arm swept away without evidence that they had ever been there. He looked her over, one brow raised as he took in her lack of attire. "Never stripped your top off for me before, Aydee," he commented. "You're pretty buff for a Winchester."
Blood and pain came together in the awkward process of removing destroyed clothing with care to fill the quiet air of Ayden's bedroom in the dorm she shared with her best friend with some highly colorful curses. Despite how recently the slashes on her neck and arm had been inflicted, it had been long enough that the blood had begun to clot, sticking the wool of her top to her flesh as she and Ares worked together to peel the cloth away from her injuries. She was hoping not to have to call on a certain archangel, but the new flow of blood from her arm as her top was dropped to the floor was too much to countenance trying to pass it off as an accident of any kind. She whimpered softly at the pain in her neck, too, wincing as she looked up at Ares. "I'm gonna have to call someone to heal me," she told him, awkward and regretful. She had a feeling he wasn't going to get along with the angel on her shoulder.
He had been remarkably gentle as together they peeled the torn and bloodied clothing away from her wounded flesh. He, too, had been bloodied - and with a blade from which it would take time to heal - but the pain of his wound was nothing compared to the agony in his heart at seeing her hurt. He was only happy he hadn't lost her. "It's my fault, Ayden. I shouldn't have marked you. It was reckless and foolish on my part." He wished in that moment that he knew something of healing, but he was a warrior. The healing arts had never interested him much, until now. "Do you wish me to go?" he asked, not wanting to stay where he was not wanted or needed, though he was starting to care for her more than even he cared to admit.
Odd, how she had been so shy of him just a couple of days before, and yet here and now, she was perfectly content to sit close on the edge of her bed with him, virtually topless but for her bra, which wasn't exactly the most modest piece of clothing she could wish for. "None of this is your fault," she told him sternly. "If you hadn't been there, we'd all be dead. Seriously, a few cuts and bruises is worth it for what we managed to do today, and we couldn't have done it without you." She glanced at his wound with a frown. "Remind me when we're done with me to take a look at that for you." Pressing a fresh towel to her bleeding arm, she met his gaze as he offered to leave, sincere and certain in her reply. "Stay. Please. I-I feel safe with you around."
He waved off her concern over him with a shrug. "It's nothing. I'm fine." He'd had far worse, and in all truth, he was happy to offer up his own blood in sacrifice, so long as she was safe. "It was a trap, Ayden. They knew I marked you, and they set a trap to kill you," he pointed out, insisting her wounds were his fault, despite the fact that they had actually succeeded. He frowned at her, knowing who it was she would call on for help. Apollo was most likely busy watching over Dean and Nimue. He hoped they had succeeded in their quest, as well, but for now, all his thoughts and concerns were for Ayden. "You will call on the angel then."
"And they failed," she pointed out with a rueful smile. "Quit worrying about what?s done. And no getting out of it - I'm a med student, I'll drug you if I have to so I can clean that wound." She paused as he mentioned Gabriel, uncertain whether she was surprised or not that he knew about her archangel guardian. "He's gonna be pissed with me," she warned him quietly. "Try not to take too much offense. He's an *ss, but he tries."
He grunted, reluctantly admitting defeat. "And I'm a God. I'm afraid your drugs won't work on me." He shrugged again, stepping away so that she could call on her angel and he could do what he needed to do without him getting in the way. "He can be....pissed with me," he said, the modern vernacular a little awkward on his tongue, though he was slowly getting used to it.
"He might be," she snorted with laughter, taking a deep breath before raising her voice just a little. "Gabriel. Gabriel, I know you're sulking, but I really could use your help right now." She was startled by the almost instant response, her little dorm room suddenly feeling very crowded as the last remaining archangel on Earth popped into existence, deliberately putting himself between her and the Olympian God of War.
"Ares," Gabriel greeted the other being through gritted teeth, twisting to look over his shoulder at Ayden. "You ditched me for an oiled up poser like this?"
"Ditched?" Ares echoed, swinging a puzzled look at Ayden at all of the unfamiliar slang. He didn't really have to understand the words to know he was being insulted, however, and by a being he thought beneath him. After all, the Olympians had been there first, at least in Ares' mind, but in truth, it was all a matter of perspective. Chicken or the egg, anyone"
"Cast aside," Ayden provided the translation for Ares without thinking, without even realizing she was doing it, leveling a steady gaze on the archangel who was blocking her view of the Olympian in the first place. "And I never ditched you. I told you what we were doing."
Gabriel snorted, rolling his eyes. "After you'd already called this wuss into the mix," he pointed out. "I'd have told you what a dumb*ss idea it is to try and kill a Fate."
"Wuss?" Ares echoed, bristling. He no longer guessed the archangel was insulting him; he knew it for fact. There was no mistaking the tone of the angel's voice. "And you'd have been wrong. But I'm not really surprised to hear that from someone who was too cowardly to stand up to his own brothers. Do you know how Gabriel spent the last two thousand years? Trying to pass himself off as a god. Loki, no less. The Messenger of the Christian God playing tricks on humanity. How very becoming of you, Gabriel."
"Look, macho, I've been down here long enough to know how humans work," Gabriel bristled right back at him, the anger in his voice palpable following the mention of his brothers. "I stood with them against my brothers. Don't give me that crap - you're only here because you want in her panties."
Ayden scowled, reaching out to thump the archangel firmly in the back for that comment. "Less bitching, more healing," she informed him, and despite his obvious irritation,
Gabriel turned to lay his hands on her, the seeping wounds on her neck and arm swept away without evidence that they had ever been there. He looked her over, one brow raised as he took in her lack of attire. "Never stripped your top off for me before, Aydee," he commented. "You're pretty buff for a Winchester."