Saint Patrick ☘ (shamrocked_) wrote in nevermore_au, @ 2012-07-19 16:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | saint agatha, saint david, saint patrick |
Who: Evil!Patrick, Evil!Agatha, Evil!Gabriel and Saint David
What: Dewi wanted a little evil!action too! Part 2.
When: A month or so after George killed him and a week after this
Where: David's scummy apartment
Warnings: Dog Death, Torture and assault
After his little brother had shot him and killed him, Patrick had spent a week or so in Hell, recovering from the shock of David actually fighting back. He hadn't expected it at all. David with guns was something Patrick hadn't even imagined.
When Patrick re-surfaced, glad that since the injury to his eye hadn't happened in Hell he wasn't left blind, he made it his mission to see David again. The patron saint of Wales had shown that he could feel and express anger. He would be a worthy comrade, and Patrick wanted him to renounce his faith now more than he had before.
David had moved since he had lived with Patrick, but Agatha knew where his new apartment was. The pair of them went to pay him a visit together. And since David was now apparently armed, Patrick made sure he was too. He had a gun with a silencer on the end in his coat pocket, and he only hoped they could surprise David before he could get to his own guns.
Patrick really didn't want to get shot in the eye again.
Still outside the apartment, Patrick turned to his fellow fallen saint. "Should we try going through a window, or just break in through the front door?"
Everything had changed for Agatha except for one thing: she was still focused on little but her fellow Saints.
When Patrick asked his question Agatha turned on him and then - because she could - she wrapped her hand around his throat and squeezed with a smile. "You have no subtly," she crooned, giving him a slight shove as she let him go and then from her pocket she produced a key and unlocked the door quietly.
Patrick grinned as he followed Agatha in. She remained his greatest masterpiece. Patrick glanced around the tiny apartment that David now lived in and he frowned. "What a shithole."
David had been watching TV, late-night Adult Swim stuff and Daily Show reruns that he was only half paying attention to. He'd told George what he'd done to Patrick, and George had said he'd done the right thing, but hadn't looked at him the same way since then. They spoke even less than before, if it was possible.
Downpatrick had been sleeping on the sofa next to David, but he perked his ears and lifted his head, looking towards the door. David ignored him, too deeply sunk into his navel-gazing. The dog ruffed softly, and slipped onto the floor, snuffling and whining slightly, tail half wagging. David cast a glance at him.
"What're you looking at, boy?" he said, just as the door swung open. The dog barked, running towards whoever was there, whining and wriggling on the spot. The front door opened into the tiny kitchen area, then the living half of the room was off to the left, so David didn't see who it was until Patrick spoke.
Shit. Oh shit. Where had he left that sodding gun? It was in his bedroom, in case he got startled in his sleep. Dammit! He got to his feet, trying to edge to the door to his bedroom before Patrick realised he was there.
Patrick glanced down at the dog which had once been his ever-present companion. The dog was wriggling and he looked so excited to see Patrick and it sort of turned Patrick's stomach. "Stupid mutt," he growled and he drew the gun, shooting the dog right between the eyes. The sound was swallowed by the silencer, but Downpatrick's body hit the floor immediately sending blood spraying across the wall. Patrick lifted his head to glance into the room beyond him.
"Saint David!" he said, since David had requested he be called that. "Don't you dare move. I'm onto your game now. I have a gun," he said, kicking the dead dog aside. "And I brought a friend with me."
Agatha spared a glance towards the dog, but nothing more. She stepped over the body and looked around before calling out, her voice gentle. "David?" she asked. "Won't you please come out?"
If there was anything to prove that Patrick wasn't who he was meant to be any more, this was it. David felt sick to his stomach, even though he'd seen what Patrick's face had looked like after he'd shot his eye out. He should have burned the body, he should have done so many things. Despite that dog piddling on everything, he'd been the last constant friend David had left.
He raised his hands slowly, showing he was unarmed. "What a pleasure. Won't you please come in." Perhaps sardonic wit wasn't the best recourse, but David had little else left.
Patrick stepped forward, moving aside so Agatha could stand beside him. "Calm down, brother, we just want to talk. You impressed me last week. Though I'm glad I didn't lose my eye to you, or I would have to take yours," he said, lifting the gun so it was aimed at David's eye. "Agatha, say hello to our friend."
Agatha rolled her eyes. "With the loss of his soul, Patrick has picked up the ability to talk like a Bond villain. Sorry about that." She smiled at David and it was just like any of the warm smiles that had passed between them before.
David bowed his head a moment, clenching his jaw. "We've done all the talking we can do, Patrick, he growled, narrowing his eyes and looking from Patrick to Agatha. It still tore him up to know what Patrick did, and how it'd broken Agatha so completely. He didn't smile back.
Patrick had smirked as Agatha apologised for him. He didn't care. "David, you had enough anger in you last week to shoot me in the head. Even George had to suffer hunger and thirst and torture before he could kill me. And he has the temper of a pissed off rhinoceros. I'd say we have lots to talk about."
Agatha walked into the house a little further, jumping up to sit on the counter as she watched David. Her long legs were exposed in the short skirt she word, a skin-baring outfit she never would have worn before. But now she was all about baring skin, because why the hell not?
"I think you should shoot him in the head again," Agatha told David conversationally. "I LOLed."
"We learn from others in life, Patrick. George couldn't do anything to help you, so what good could I do? There was no use trying to do much else." David shrugged as if it was no big deal, using the gesture to mask a slight step sideways. "You chose your path and now you must deal with the consequences."
He didn't say anything to Agatha, and barely looked at her. It was easier to focus on Patrick, who he held anger for.
"You know you liked the feeling of it," Patrick said darkly. "The power of taking another life. You enjoyed it. You can admit it to us, David. We won't judge you."
David sighed and rolled his eyes. "I said, we're done talking. I'm not going to join you. You cannot turn me from my path." He sidled another step over, inching closer to his bedroom door, which stood half open.
"Hey," Agatha said, sliding down off the counter. "You're going to want to stop trying to get to a gun right about now," she told him sweetly. "I don't feel like getting shot."
Patrick lifted the gun and aimed it at Dewi's face again. "Sit on the couch, David," Patrick growled. "Right now."
David hesitated, wondering if he could make the half dozen steps before getting shot, but it was a small room, so he kind of doubted it. Resentfully, he moved to the couch, perching on the very edge of it.
"So what happens now?"
Agatha walked over towards him and then pushed David back onto the couch properly so she could straddle him. "You're kind of adorable," she said, pinching his cheeks.
Patrick laughed and he kept the gun trained on David's head. "Now you let Agatha have her fun," he said with a smile. "And trust me, she's rather creative." Patrick would have showed David the scars she had left on him, but they were gone just as his blind eye was.
David frowned, turning his face away to try and escape her grasp. "You're just the same as he is," he said, as if saying it aloud would convince himself of the fact. He scowled at Patrick, not quite making the connection in his mind, but furious at feeling so helpless. "Worse than damned."
"Look at me, David," she asked, hand on his cheek. "Please just look at me? From the first time I met you I knew we were kindred spirits. All the others were different but I got you like they didn't. I came to think of you as my closest friend in these dark and horrible days."
She kissed his cheek, innocent and chaste. Her voice was a whisper meant only for him. "So why weren't you there to save me, David? When Patrick and Satan came to my door to rape and defile my sacred body and I screamed and cried, why weren't you there to protect me?"
"I didn't know," David murmured, closing his eyes and keeping his face averted. "It shouldn't have happened." He didn't want to hear this. Agatha wasn't meant to be like this. This was all Patrick's fault. If he could do something to Patrick right now, he would. Like strangle him with his bare hands.
Patrick hadn't heard Agatha's words, but he watched as she worked her magic on his little brother anyway, completely amazed and incredibly turned on by it.
Agatha grabbed David's hand and setting it on her thigh, holding it there with all her strength so he couldn't yank it away. "Look what they've made of me," she told him. "This body was a testament to God's sacred purity and now..." she leaned forward and kissed him forcefully.
David scrunched his eyes shut and clenched his lips and teeth together, not giving an inch. It was so very weird and wrong, this happening with Patrick standing there watching. It was wrong this happening at all. He kept his fingers as straight as he could, not wanting to feel the curve of her bare thigh.
"Come on, David, let her give you what you've been needing for centuries," Patrick called out, as if offering helpful encouragement. "You won't regret it!"
Agatha pulled back from the kiss and gave David's cheek a light, friendly tap with her fingers before looking over her shoulder at Patrick. "Hey, less from the peanut gallery or I'm going to rip your sack off and use it as a purse."
She looked back to David and shook her head sadly, trying to move the hand on her thigh up further. "He's lost all his manners with his soul."
David snatched his hand back, then shoved at Agatha, trying to get her off him. "Get out of my apartment, foul creatures," he growled, trying to summon up the memory of an old exorcism. "Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei-"
While an exorcism may have seemed like a ridiculous way to go to get rid of two human beings, immortal as they were; Patrick and Agatha were beings created by belief. And as belief influenced them, so did the effect of belief in an exorcism ritual.
Patrick doubled over, feeling ill, like his body was suddenly trying to separate itself.
"Make him stop!" Patrick yelled at Agatha.
Agatha was feeling the same sudden agony and she slammed her elbow up into David's face and then slapped a hand over his mouth to silence him. The words had made her temperature rocket and she felt like she might actually be on fire. Only the sight that she wasn't could convince her otherwise.
"You little shit!" she snapped and then glared at Patrick. "Get a gag!"
The elbow to the face made David see stars a moment, but as soon as he blinked it off, he crossed himself with his spare hand, continuing to recite the words as best as he could behind her hand, though his mouth hurt because she was gripping it so hard. "Patris omnipotentis, et in noimine Jesu Christi Filii ejus, Domini et Judicis nostri-" It was muffled, but he was shouting it as loud as he could, thought it didn't carry far.
Patrick tore around David's apartment until he found a dirty tea towel in David's kitchen. The feeling of burning was becoming intolerable and he practically hurled the towel at Agatha. "Shove it in his mouth!" he screamed, covering his ears.
Agatha didn't need to be told what to do because as soon as the towel was in her hand she was pulling open David's mouth so she could jam as much of it in as possible. Now David could only make sounds and without the actual words the burning stopped.
Agatha shuddered, a light sheen of sweat across her skin. Then she grabbed David's nose so he'd have to just breath through the thick cloth. "You worthless little fuck-up."
David choked off mid-word as the cotton was shoved in his mouth, the dry fabric almost going down his throat as Agatha pushed it in. He gasped for air, going red in the face as he tried to breathe around the fabric. He grabbed Agatha's wrist with one hand, the other swinging up and striking her in the throat as he tried to push her head back, to force her to let go of him. He was starting to see spots though, coughing into the cloth and barely able to get oxygen in again.
Agatha finally removed her hand from his nose to allow him to breathe, but she did it grudgingly and the flicked the tip of his nose. "We won't have any more exorcisms, thanks."
David glowered at Agatha, nostrils flaring as he gulped air in, muffled sounds that could have been something less than complimentary coming from behind the gag. He was still pushing at her, keeping her at arm's length, and when she flicked his nose he jerked his head back, then slapped her. He hated feeling so powerless.
"You fight like a girl," Agatha growled, leaning in towards him so she could nibble on his ear. "I'm going to take out your insides and eat them."
Once upon a time he was subtle. Once upon a time he gave a shit about maintaining a low profile. Things change.
The door Agatha had so carefully picked open was kicked in, splintering it. He walked in before the last pieces of wood hit the floor, his expression none too happy.
His nose wrinkled in disgust as he looked around. "I'm sorry. I thought I felt an exorcism here. I must have been mistaken."
David's eyes widened in shock, and he tried to twist away from Agatha's mouth on his ear. He called out to Gabriel, asking for help, fighting harder against the woman pinning him down.
Patrick glowered as Gabriel practically pranced into the room as if he fucking owned it. How did he even find them? And why was he so dramatic? Angels. Even fallen ones. They were such drama whores.
Patrick moved over to his brother and he patted Dewi's hair. "Gabriel's not going to help you," he said, bored now. "Agatha tamed him with her cunt."
Agatha laughed, smiling over her shoulder at the angel she'd once loved so innocently. Not quite that innocent any more. She squeezed David's face in her hand. "Never knew how easy it was to make a Fallen angel. I'm going to try and collect the whole set. Probably Michael next."
Shadows flickered across his eyes as he stared flatly at the three of them. Humans, even corrupted ones were so deluded.
He arched his brows at Patrick as he pointed at him. "You. Watch your mouth." Then he strode over to wrap his hands around the back of Agatha's neck to pull her not entirely ungently from off of David. "And you..." he curled his arm around her, pulling her against him, "don't even think about it."
David looked from one to the other, suddenly rather confused by the turn this had taken. With Agatha pulled off him, Gabriel had his hands full of fallen woman, who was being held in, and Patrick was standing over him. he wouldn't get another chance. He yanked the tea towel out of his mouth, threw it in Patrick's face, and made a dash for his bedroom door before anyone could stop him, going for the gun in the bedside drawers. "Et in virtute Spiritus Sancti, ut descedas ab hoc plasmate Dei-"
Patrick yelped as the tea towel flew into his face. He flailed with it for a moment, gun still it hand, and then he tossed it aside. Then he got angry. The angel was ruining everything. He had just let David up and Patrick would never catch David and Patrick knew he was running for the gun.
Quickly, Patrick grabbed a table lamp and he hurled it at David's head, hoping to hit him hard enough to at least drop him. As he did so, he screamed at Gabriel who had allowed this to happen. "What are you, retarded?! You don't just let the fucking prisoner up! For fuck's sake! From now on you listen to me, fuckwit!"
David felt the lamp smash on his head, and the world went spinny for a moment, until his found himself with his face pressed into the carpet of his bedroom. He tried to peel his eyes open through the dazed throbbing in his skull. Oh Lord, Patrick had a good arm.
It took David a moment, but there was a bottle under his bed, just over half full of water. He'd got the water from a font in a church, and kept it under his bed. Reaching out, trying to blink the white spots out of his vision, he managed to snag the bottle and pull it to him, and unscrewed the lid for the inevitable attack before he could get to his feet. He groaned and tried to get his hands under him, pushing towards the drawers.
Patrick growled at Gabriel and Agatha and then he chased after David. He grabbed the Saint as David tried to scramble to his feet, and he tackled David to the floor. "Stay down!" Patrick screamed at his younger brother.
David kicked out, spinning onto his back and hurling the water into Patrick's face. "Quod Dominus noster ad templum sanctum suum vocare dignatus est-" he tried again, raising his voice, struggling to get out of Patrick's grip.
The water splashed into Patrick's face and though he spluttered, it had no effect other than to piss him off. The prayer hurt him, however, and he growled and grabbed David's jaw, yanking it hard to dislocate it.
"Shut up!" he screamed. Then he got off of David and dragged him, by his hands, back to the lounge room where Gabriel and Agatha were.
"Now you both are going to watch me. This is my brother and I asked Agatha for help. You have well and truly proven you are useless!" He had been at this far longer than they had. "Watch and fucking learn, morons." And he straddled David once again, pinning his arms to the floor.
As soon as the Latin started to flow he had curled Agatha closer to him. His wings appeared, wrapping themselves around her to shield her from the holy writ. It hadn't been comfortable for him either, his jaw clenching against the presence of Faith more than the exorcism. It threw his thoughts into chaos. Unable to focus he just stood there, sheltering Agatha until Patrick got this under control again. Idiot!
His eyes landed hard on the ex-saint as the man dared to take him to task. His Father may have ordered that they serve man, and while he had his Grace he had done that willingly. Things have changed.
"Darling, I do believe we are unappreciated." He lifted Agatha into his arms whether she wanted to be there or not. "Or at least I am." Patrick had crossed a line. Gabriel intended to make him aware of that when he was done here.
"Finish it, little Mick." Gabriel sneered slightly at Patrick then turned for the nearest set of windows, Agatha still held in his arms. He started walking towards them with ever quickening steps. His wings snapped out, clapping together to send a burst of energy out that blew out a chunk of the wall then leaped out to take flight. Lucifer would hear of this.