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An Angel's Touch: Chapter Nine
Warnings: Language

"You fucker! You did it again, didn't you?"
"Why do you always ask questions that you already know the answer to?"
"Bastard!! Why are you betray-"
"I am betraying nothing! I have no allegiance to this world."
"No- Oh, I know what this is about. You're tired of being beaten by me, aren't you?"
"You don't want to make me angry. Just drop it."
"Oh, no. You're sick and tired of being beaten by your little brother. You could never stand that I was better than you, could you. You couldn't stand it. Even on the battlefield I was-"
"SILENCE! At least I didn't crack my sanity trying to save those who were already too near death to be saved!"
"...Too far, brother. Too far."
"Oh, my heart bleeds."

***

Ameron woke up in a slow, about-faced kind of way that had been common to him since his fall.
There was something warm across his lap. He touched it. Furry. That meant Suzie. Okay... He was leaning to one side... his head was on something. Something... moving. Hmm... He opened one eye a slight amount, squinting a little, then opened the other. There was a hand in his and it didn't take a half-asleep genius to figure out whose hand that was. He froze. Perhaps sensing his anxiety, Suzie lifted her head and yawned, the high, puppyish whine coming when she closed her mouth causing Natalie to stir and stretch slightly.
"Mmph..." The woman mumbled, moving and glancing over at Ameron as he shifted his head from her shoulder. "Oh, morning."
"Morning..." Easing up he winced and rubbed the back of his neck as it twinged uncomfortably.
"Stiff neck?" Natalie asked with a grin.
Ameron chuckled softly. The story behind his learning what a limb being cramped meant was a funny one, when Suzie had been lain across his legs and he had shown great surprise when she moved and he had attempted to stand, finding that his left thigh had gone completely numb.
"Yeah."
She grinned again, easing straight and cracking all her fingers. "Hungry?"
Surprised as he nodded eagerly - normally all she got was a vague, uncertain reply - she got up and stretched. "I have to go up to the attic today. There's still come stuff up there that needs moving out, okay?"
"Okay..."
He didn't understand, she knew, but she'd get him to help anyway. Ameron being Ameron, he wouldn't complain about it.

After breakfast, she told Ameron to follow her and he soon realised what she meant by 'some stuff up there that needs moving out'.
The attic was stuffy, and the dust thick in the air made his nose itch. He sneezed,
looked utterly and completely surprised that he had done so, but was satisfied in his realisation that sneezing had stopped the tickle in his nose. Natalie had gone up first. The attic stretched the entire length of the house and was floored with rough, stained wooden slats that didn't look capable of supporting the weight they were on.
He looked over to Natalie, who was already shoulder-deep in a box almost as big as she was.
"Hey," she said, muffled. "Take this." Her hand stuck out of the box at an odd angle, holding a small picture frame. The words were lost on him, but the meaning wasn't as she wiggled her hand. Hesitantly, he took it from her and she emerged from the box with a black leather briefcase. Ameron kept his gaze on her a she sat on the floor, then looked inquisitively at the picture in the frame she held.

It was in colour, and of a girl of around twelve, he judged, sat next to a younger boy.
She was sat on a bench in a garden, and he could tell it was windy by the way her long brown hair was all over her face. The boy's hair was short, and black, and they were both laughing.
"Nat?" She looked up and then beckoned him over, taking the photo from him.
She smiled as she looked at it, and patted the spot beside her. He sat, and she pointed to the girl. "That's me," she told him. "And this is my brother."
"Brother...?" That was a new word.
"Oh, um..." She rubbed the back of her neck and frowned, standing and ducking back into the box, rummaging around for a moment before coming out with a photo album. Opening it she flicked through until she found what she was looking for, pointing to one of the pictures.

It was obviously a family - even Ameron could see that.

"Me," She pointed to a girl in the photo who Ameron recognised as Natalie. He
nodded. "And this is my brother, and our mother, and our father."
He knew the word 'our', and guessed the rest.
"What is his name?" he asked softly.

"Daniel." Was the reply, though Natalie only sounded half there. Her gaze was lingering on the photograph. She sighed, then put it down, turning to Ameron with a
smile. "He lives in Cornwall. A long way from here. I don't see him often... but he calls me sometimes."
"Oh." His gaze flicked back down to the picture. They looked happy, he thought, smiling slightly. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice her saying his name. She prodded his side and he squeaked in surprise, scooting away. Natalie stared at him.
"You're ticklish!" she stated incredulously.
Ameron simply blinked. "I'm what?"

She crept over and prodded him again, giggling as he twitched violently. He felt an
overwhelming urge to laugh, and quickly got to his feet. Natalie didn't go after him again, but she made a note of it for future use.

"What is this?" He was by a mahogany dresser in the corner, running his fingers over
the dark wood. It was a pretty thing and very elegant, with slim legs and intricate carving around the mirror and the edges of the drawers. It reminded him painfully of the delicate furniture from home.

Natalie came over and looked at it fondly, one fingertip running over a chip in the wood, probably sustained when it was being moved up to the attic.
"It's caked a dressing table. It was my mother's."
Ameron smiled, curiously sliding the drawers of the dresser open, finding a few papers and finally a small, tatty, blue suede box which he tentatively picked up. Turning it over in his hands, he opened it and heard Natalie's breath catch behind him.

It was obviously not meant to go in that box, and he scooped it up - a bracelet made
of what looked like age-dulled silver, set with small pieces of amber.

He looked at Natalie, who was staring at the piece of jewellery.
"I thought they buried her in that..." she murmured softly, gently taking the bracelet from him.

Ameron watched her face, saw the odd spasm that flickered over it. Her bottom lip trembled and she caught it in her teeth, sniffing back a whimper.
"I miss her." She lowered her head as her breathing shook, and with an expression of infinite sympathy, Ameron put his arms around her and held her close.
This unexpected gesture of comfort surprised her as she burst into sobs and buried her face in his chest. It was the first time he had voluntarily touched her and it was such a sweet gesture - of trust as well as kindness - that it pushed her into floods of tears.

Natalie has always been close to her mother, and even though her death had
occurred nine years ago it was still fresh in her mind. She didn't want to think about it, and sniffled, listening to Ameron's strong, steady heartbeat.
"Are you alright?" he asked her, chafing her shoulder gently. Now the barrier of contact had been broken, he found that he was quite comfortable just to stand here. It reminded him a little of home, and a time when Trysios had been suspected dead - killed defending Heaven's boarders from demons - and he had spent countless hours comforting Sirae. She had told him then that perhaps he should have been the embodiment of kindness, as she was always called.

The Sight had been growing less active in her since Ameron's disappearance, but it
wasn't worrying her just yet. It was nice to be aware for once for more than an hour at a time. It had led her to believe that perhaps her and Ameron's destinies were liked somehow, but as of yet she wasn't sure how.

Recent events had forced her to turn her thoughts to people who she hadn't thought
about for a long time now - her brothers and sister.

Sae, she had always loved with all her heart. He had been a reclusive child, a shy adult, and now, he hated himself. She knew this, and even though it wasn't her business any more (so she was told) it hurt her that he was so unhappy. She rarely called him by his demonic name, even though she saw him flinch whenever she called him Azriel.
Sari, previously Lerdona, and herself had never been all that close, even from a very early age. Sometimes Sirae thought that jealousy had always been dominant in her sister from the start. She had been the first to go, and hadn't even required the persuasion before she turned to Lucifer.
Maz... her dear older brother, Zokiel. When she was young he had always been the one who had been there for her... picking her up when she cut her knee, listening when she had a problem, talking to her late into the night and laughing with her in later years when she could understand the jokes he told.
Sirae, Zokiel and Azriel had all been given the power to heal. Sari had not... which (Sirae thought) may have contributed to her growing resentment of her siblings.
The power was strongest in Zokiel. He could heal other angels, himself, even demons if he wished to, and he soon took up a career of sorts, working with injured angels. He did a great deal of good work, and then the Rebellion started.

Sari was the first to go. One day she was a sullen, but still good, angel, and then she was a demon. It was so sudden and Sirae had never even got to say goodbye. Azriel had long given up his healing abilities - being the shy person that he was he simply could not handle the responsibility that the gift entailed, and the Archangel Michael reluctantly bound his power, telling him that it would return when he was ready.
Healing took a lot out of an angel, draining them both physically and mentally, and Zokiel had worked so, so hard...

Then, one day, he simply snapped. According to witness reports, he stopped in the middle of his work, snarled out several profanities and shouted 'What is the point in this!?'. In the inquest, some days later, Raphael - another healer, and Archangel - had said that Zokiel had mentally exhausted himself helping others, and had left himself open to his Sin... the Sin that lurked in the back of even the most loyal angel's heart.

Before he could be stopped, he had persuaded the naive, trusting, weak-willed Azriel
to join him, and Sirae did not see either of her brothers for a long time after that.

When she next saw Azriel, she was shocked and devastated by what had become of him. It was like losing him all over again to see the way he looked at her with eyes darkened by the evil tainting him. However, when he had smiled and held a hand out to her she could do nothing but run to him.
They'd talked for hours, and even though he had never said she could tell he was unhappy with what he had become.

But still, he was still her brother, and she loved him, even as she still loved Zokiel and Lerdona.

Perhaps she was just naive herself, or perhaps clinging on to the vain hope that one day they might return to her... but it helped.