Post by Azrael on Apr 9, 2009 13:26:39 GMT -5
Charity finished the video message to the Preventers HQ with a formal notification of his visiting, then printed off the flight tickets for him at the time requested, which was the very same day the message would be sent. When Charity had asked earlier, he had responded by saying, "They'll probably insist on getting some officer they approve of to see me, in full dress uniform and everything. They'll probably wanna set snacks, drinks, all that jazz to be formal and polite. I show up way too early and they'll be a little busy trying to get things in order, they won't notice me dabbling a little on the computer. And with a formal notification that arrived 'late', it'll explain my purpose and justify my sudden presence there."
Azrael could be a clever fella when we wanted to be.
Charity wondered how many times he set things up for her. Finally, she pulled it off, and walked out of the computer room, down the hallway to the large living room. "Sean!" she called. "I have everything, we just need to drive you to the airport!"
Silence was the response. She frowned a minute and looked around. "Sean?" She called again, then noticed a sheet of paper on his reading desk. It read:
Gone to visit my brother real quick. I'll be back in a moment.
"Brother?" she said, then frowned again, this time in thought. The only brother she knew of was Kevin Michael, who attempted to kill him more than once when they were children. And he was on the completely other side of the Emerald Isle. Now THIS was intrigueing.
She searched the outside, even in the ruins were he sometimes trained for urban combat, and found a little path leading through a small arm of trees. She hadn't traveled this area, usually remaining within the immediate sight range of the castle. She passed a little well, and then walked into yet another meadow were another small ruins was. In the middle, Azrael was knelt down in the long grass, looking at something on the ground. He was dressed in a simple black tuxedo top with green bowtie and a green kilt.
His kilt had a pattern unique and distinct to his family line, as did most Celtic kilts, and as with most royalty and nobility, it held a baldrage that went over one shoulder, with his family seal embroided on the top of it where it went over his shoulder.
"Sean?" She stared and tilted her head as her brow furrowed. She was clearly confused. "What are you doing...?"
Azrael turned around and smiled at her. "Hey, Charity."
Charity started in spite of herself. His smile, his expression was almost...boyish. He had always had a bit of a rugged handsomeness to him, but this was the first time he seemed to genuinely smile. He looked almost...innocent. She blinked and walked over slowly. "...SEAN?" She said in a little bit of shock. "Why are you...here?" She didn't know what to say.
"Visiting my baby brother," he said, and patted something on the ground. Charity turned and saw a little gravestone in the ground, polished to a loving shine with a shamrock on it. Engraved were the words: HERE LIES PATRICK ANDREW WATTS. WHAT WAS GIVEN BY TAKEN, HAS BEEN RETURNED TO GOD. NO ONE CAN TAKE ANYTHING FROM HIM, NOR CAN THEY GIVE ANYTHING TO HIM.
She covered her mouth with her hand, and stared at him. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know... I thought Kevin was your only brother."
"It's okay," he said, still smiling, and patted the grassy earth next to him. Mute and dumbfounded, she sat down on her knees besides him, as he turned back to the gravestone and caressed it with his hand. "He died at birth. Well...before birth. Heh... I, uh..." He looked down for a moment and closed his eyes. "I killed him."
Charity put her hand on his arm. "Sean, no. You could never do that."
"Ah, it was an accident," he said softly, still closing his eyes. "I was... I was angry. I was in a fight, and some things got broke. He was in a chamber."
"At a hospital?" she asked softly, staring at the pained expression on his face. This was so different... She had never seen Azrael so vulnerable, so emotional, so... human. For so long, he seemed hardened and unaffected. Fearless, merciless, cold-hearted. She knew he had emotions, just kept some of them pinned in. Expect his anger and passion for both God and righteousness, of course. His love of God was always stark. But this was so very different.
"Nah... Remember that place I told you about? Where I was raised?"
Charity slowly gave her head a nod.
"He was a back up. We shared the same father. I, uh... I didn't like what they did to me. Or him. So I struck the doctor." He grit his teeth, his voice cracking. "And... he hit the chamber..." He swallowed hard, struggling to keep his emotions in check somewhat, and rubbed at his eyes what would have been tears, then turned to smile at her. "He would have liked all this." He gestures to the ruins. "A little castle for him to play in. I thought about rebuilding it for him, you know? His own little playhouse. Something to play in, if his spirit ever needed to... come down." He passed his hand over the headstone. "He would have loved shamrocks, too. Loved his Irish heritage, would have been the most Irish in Ireland. I would have loved to teach him all about Ireland, everything, even if he wasn't born here."
Charity felt a stab in her heart. She looked at the sad little grave in the ground, and realized whatever was left of his humanity was probably nestled with that little body in the earth. She looked at the ruins, the shamrocks and saw a glimpse of something that few, if any, had ever seen. A glimpse of his soul, and how deep it was. A small shred of the humanity, the love, and the gentleness within his hardened, armored heart.
She saw the man crying inside the monster. And deep down inside, she wondered if this would be the man he would have been, were it not for religious madmen.
Azrael slowly stood up, adjusting his top and taking a deep breath. "I better go. He gets upset when I stay too long, sometimes. He gets mad at me, you know? Thinks I spend too much time with him... not enough with you..."
Charity turned her head sharply at him as he said that, but right as she would have loved to see in his eyes the meaning behind that, he turned around and walked away. She watched him walk back towards the thin stretch of trees, then slowly stood up.
"I love you," she whispered softly.
Azrael could be a clever fella when we wanted to be.
Charity wondered how many times he set things up for her. Finally, she pulled it off, and walked out of the computer room, down the hallway to the large living room. "Sean!" she called. "I have everything, we just need to drive you to the airport!"
Silence was the response. She frowned a minute and looked around. "Sean?" She called again, then noticed a sheet of paper on his reading desk. It read:
Gone to visit my brother real quick. I'll be back in a moment.
"Brother?" she said, then frowned again, this time in thought. The only brother she knew of was Kevin Michael, who attempted to kill him more than once when they were children. And he was on the completely other side of the Emerald Isle. Now THIS was intrigueing.
She searched the outside, even in the ruins were he sometimes trained for urban combat, and found a little path leading through a small arm of trees. She hadn't traveled this area, usually remaining within the immediate sight range of the castle. She passed a little well, and then walked into yet another meadow were another small ruins was. In the middle, Azrael was knelt down in the long grass, looking at something on the ground. He was dressed in a simple black tuxedo top with green bowtie and a green kilt.
His kilt had a pattern unique and distinct to his family line, as did most Celtic kilts, and as with most royalty and nobility, it held a baldrage that went over one shoulder, with his family seal embroided on the top of it where it went over his shoulder.
"Sean?" She stared and tilted her head as her brow furrowed. She was clearly confused. "What are you doing...?"
Azrael turned around and smiled at her. "Hey, Charity."
Charity started in spite of herself. His smile, his expression was almost...boyish. He had always had a bit of a rugged handsomeness to him, but this was the first time he seemed to genuinely smile. He looked almost...innocent. She blinked and walked over slowly. "...SEAN?" She said in a little bit of shock. "Why are you...here?" She didn't know what to say.
"Visiting my baby brother," he said, and patted something on the ground. Charity turned and saw a little gravestone in the ground, polished to a loving shine with a shamrock on it. Engraved were the words: HERE LIES PATRICK ANDREW WATTS. WHAT WAS GIVEN BY TAKEN, HAS BEEN RETURNED TO GOD. NO ONE CAN TAKE ANYTHING FROM HIM, NOR CAN THEY GIVE ANYTHING TO HIM.
She covered her mouth with her hand, and stared at him. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know... I thought Kevin was your only brother."
"It's okay," he said, still smiling, and patted the grassy earth next to him. Mute and dumbfounded, she sat down on her knees besides him, as he turned back to the gravestone and caressed it with his hand. "He died at birth. Well...before birth. Heh... I, uh..." He looked down for a moment and closed his eyes. "I killed him."
Charity put her hand on his arm. "Sean, no. You could never do that."
"Ah, it was an accident," he said softly, still closing his eyes. "I was... I was angry. I was in a fight, and some things got broke. He was in a chamber."
"At a hospital?" she asked softly, staring at the pained expression on his face. This was so different... She had never seen Azrael so vulnerable, so emotional, so... human. For so long, he seemed hardened and unaffected. Fearless, merciless, cold-hearted. She knew he had emotions, just kept some of them pinned in. Expect his anger and passion for both God and righteousness, of course. His love of God was always stark. But this was so very different.
"Nah... Remember that place I told you about? Where I was raised?"
Charity slowly gave her head a nod.
"He was a back up. We shared the same father. I, uh... I didn't like what they did to me. Or him. So I struck the doctor." He grit his teeth, his voice cracking. "And... he hit the chamber..." He swallowed hard, struggling to keep his emotions in check somewhat, and rubbed at his eyes what would have been tears, then turned to smile at her. "He would have liked all this." He gestures to the ruins. "A little castle for him to play in. I thought about rebuilding it for him, you know? His own little playhouse. Something to play in, if his spirit ever needed to... come down." He passed his hand over the headstone. "He would have loved shamrocks, too. Loved his Irish heritage, would have been the most Irish in Ireland. I would have loved to teach him all about Ireland, everything, even if he wasn't born here."
Charity felt a stab in her heart. She looked at the sad little grave in the ground, and realized whatever was left of his humanity was probably nestled with that little body in the earth. She looked at the ruins, the shamrocks and saw a glimpse of something that few, if any, had ever seen. A glimpse of his soul, and how deep it was. A small shred of the humanity, the love, and the gentleness within his hardened, armored heart.
She saw the man crying inside the monster. And deep down inside, she wondered if this would be the man he would have been, were it not for religious madmen.
Azrael slowly stood up, adjusting his top and taking a deep breath. "I better go. He gets upset when I stay too long, sometimes. He gets mad at me, you know? Thinks I spend too much time with him... not enough with you..."
Charity turned her head sharply at him as he said that, but right as she would have loved to see in his eyes the meaning behind that, he turned around and walked away. She watched him walk back towards the thin stretch of trees, then slowly stood up.
"I love you," she whispered softly.
Hahahahaaaaaaaa!