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moosestories2025-07-06 05:50 am
nyc_merlin) wrote in moosestories2025-07-06 05:50 am
Entry tags:
Angel AU: Judgment
20. Judgment - a reckoning is at hand for a character; a reckoning is at hand between characters; a character is transitioning from one thing into another
—
The sounds of Foggy’s apartment are different from the old church. There’s no creaking, for one. The sound of cars is more frequent but quieter given the distance from the street. He can hear the nearest neighbor through the walls but that’s only because he’s blind. Other senses compensate for his lack of sight.
He appreciates Foggy letting him stay and it is safer. As much as he misses St. Amandus it is smarter and safer for everyone if he stays away while waiting for the trial to start. The church offered to put him up in a different parish but Foggy’s apartment was fine.
Maybe he’s feeling a bit sorry for himself right now because Foggy’s out. He misses conversations with Phil and Mobius, usually in the kitchen. St. Amandus had a comforting presence that he felt in the silence. Foggy’s apartment was just… nice but not home.
Something heavy drops onto the fire escape startling Matt out of his little pity party. Someone pounds on the window.
“Matt…”
Matt is up off the couch and stumbles to the window. He searches for the latch before yanking it open. The smell of blood hits him first. It’s so strong Matt can taste it in the back of his throat.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, a little worry in his voice. He can’t help it. Frank just called him Matt. Frank never calls him Matt. Sometimes he’ll jokingly call him Father Red but that’s about the only other thing he calls him. Never his name.
A thud follows his question and he thinks for a second Frank’s collapsed. Hands damp with blood reach out and grab his slacks. The heat and wetness of it starts to soak into the fabric.
“Forgive me father for I have sinned…”
“What, Frank… what are you…” Matt feels across his bowed head and shoulders, bumping to his wings. There’s more blood on Frank’s shirt. It must be fresh because it’s still slightly wet. He realizes with a start that Frank is kneeling in front of him.
“I didn’t mean to kill her. She was innocent. I didn’t mean.” There’s something heavy and panicky in Frank’s voice.
“Frank.” Matt puts some authority into his tone and that does the trick. For a moment there is only Frank’s heavy breathing and the sounds of the city coming in from the open window. “You need to get out of these clothes and clean yourself up.”
He grabs a fistful of Frank’s shirt and pulls. Frank gets to his feet. Matt switches on his demonic vision. Frank looks haggard. His expression is tense and there’s a pained look in his eyes. There’s blood spattered across his face that glows faintly and Matt finally understands why Frank came to him.
That is angel blood. As it dries its brilliance dims but there are streaks of it across Frank and now also staining Matt.
Matt says nothing as he leads Frank through Foggy’s apartment and into the bathroom. He pushes Frank to the shower clothes and wings and all. He turns on the water. Frank flinches as it hits his face but he stands under the water.
He means to leave him there. Frank can handle a shower on his own. But Matt finds his hands reaching out for the edge of Frank’s shirt. Their hands tangle a bit as they work Frank’s shirt off. He’s never undressed an angel before. It’s different with the wings.
Frank’s shirt gets dropped to the floor of the shower with a wet thud.
Matt takes off his own shirt and then steps into the shower with Frank. The water soaks his pants and socks immediately. Their hands again work together to get rid of his jeans. Matt gets down on his knees to untie Frank’s boots.
“Matt…”
He nudges Frank’s leg with his elbow to get the Fallen angel to pick up his foot. He tosses the boot out of the shower and does the same with the second before getting to his feet.
“How did this happen?” Matt asks when he gets back up. He tugs on Frank’s hips to bring him further under the shower spray. Small streams of golden angel blood run down his shoulders and chest. Each time they pass over the core of Frank’s remaining Grace a little firework goes off in Matt’s demonic vision.
“He used her as a shield and I… I didn’t see it. Didn’t realize it until I had ripped her open already.” Frank’s words are heavy with shame and grief. “The wrath…”
“Demons are creatures of emotions,” Matt says. “They feel so much the emotions can take over. I feel it in my chest mostly. Anger builds and builds and I want to scream. Scream and hit things.”
Because a demon lives in Matt too. It’s how he has his sight. His soul given up and replaced with a little bit of demonic power. He knows how strong and overwhelming it can be. How that little part of himself takes control if he’s not careful.
“I wanted them all dead… but not her.”
Matt meets Frank’s eyes. “I can give you forgiveness, Frank, but it is meaningless if you don’t forgive yourself.”
“You know how to do that?”
Matt chuckles softly as he wipes a trace of angel blood from Frank’s cheek. “I don’t.”
—
The sounds of Foggy’s apartment are different from the old church. There’s no creaking, for one. The sound of cars is more frequent but quieter given the distance from the street. He can hear the nearest neighbor through the walls but that’s only because he’s blind. Other senses compensate for his lack of sight.
He appreciates Foggy letting him stay and it is safer. As much as he misses St. Amandus it is smarter and safer for everyone if he stays away while waiting for the trial to start. The church offered to put him up in a different parish but Foggy’s apartment was fine.
Maybe he’s feeling a bit sorry for himself right now because Foggy’s out. He misses conversations with Phil and Mobius, usually in the kitchen. St. Amandus had a comforting presence that he felt in the silence. Foggy’s apartment was just… nice but not home.
Something heavy drops onto the fire escape startling Matt out of his little pity party. Someone pounds on the window.
“Matt…”
Matt is up off the couch and stumbles to the window. He searches for the latch before yanking it open. The smell of blood hits him first. It’s so strong Matt can taste it in the back of his throat.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, a little worry in his voice. He can’t help it. Frank just called him Matt. Frank never calls him Matt. Sometimes he’ll jokingly call him Father Red but that’s about the only other thing he calls him. Never his name.
A thud follows his question and he thinks for a second Frank’s collapsed. Hands damp with blood reach out and grab his slacks. The heat and wetness of it starts to soak into the fabric.
“Forgive me father for I have sinned…”
“What, Frank… what are you…” Matt feels across his bowed head and shoulders, bumping to his wings. There’s more blood on Frank’s shirt. It must be fresh because it’s still slightly wet. He realizes with a start that Frank is kneeling in front of him.
“I didn’t mean to kill her. She was innocent. I didn’t mean.” There’s something heavy and panicky in Frank’s voice.
“Frank.” Matt puts some authority into his tone and that does the trick. For a moment there is only Frank’s heavy breathing and the sounds of the city coming in from the open window. “You need to get out of these clothes and clean yourself up.”
He grabs a fistful of Frank’s shirt and pulls. Frank gets to his feet. Matt switches on his demonic vision. Frank looks haggard. His expression is tense and there’s a pained look in his eyes. There’s blood spattered across his face that glows faintly and Matt finally understands why Frank came to him.
That is angel blood. As it dries its brilliance dims but there are streaks of it across Frank and now also staining Matt.
Matt says nothing as he leads Frank through Foggy’s apartment and into the bathroom. He pushes Frank to the shower clothes and wings and all. He turns on the water. Frank flinches as it hits his face but he stands under the water.
He means to leave him there. Frank can handle a shower on his own. But Matt finds his hands reaching out for the edge of Frank’s shirt. Their hands tangle a bit as they work Frank’s shirt off. He’s never undressed an angel before. It’s different with the wings.
Frank’s shirt gets dropped to the floor of the shower with a wet thud.
Matt takes off his own shirt and then steps into the shower with Frank. The water soaks his pants and socks immediately. Their hands again work together to get rid of his jeans. Matt gets down on his knees to untie Frank’s boots.
“Matt…”
He nudges Frank’s leg with his elbow to get the Fallen angel to pick up his foot. He tosses the boot out of the shower and does the same with the second before getting to his feet.
“How did this happen?” Matt asks when he gets back up. He tugs on Frank’s hips to bring him further under the shower spray. Small streams of golden angel blood run down his shoulders and chest. Each time they pass over the core of Frank’s remaining Grace a little firework goes off in Matt’s demonic vision.
“He used her as a shield and I… I didn’t see it. Didn’t realize it until I had ripped her open already.” Frank’s words are heavy with shame and grief. “The wrath…”
“Demons are creatures of emotions,” Matt says. “They feel so much the emotions can take over. I feel it in my chest mostly. Anger builds and builds and I want to scream. Scream and hit things.”
Because a demon lives in Matt too. It’s how he has his sight. His soul given up and replaced with a little bit of demonic power. He knows how strong and overwhelming it can be. How that little part of himself takes control if he’s not careful.
“I wanted them all dead… but not her.”
Matt meets Frank’s eyes. “I can give you forgiveness, Frank, but it is meaningless if you don’t forgive yourself.”
“You know how to do that?”
Matt chuckles softly as he wipes a trace of angel blood from Frank’s cheek. “I don’t.”