Dumat: The Dragon of Silence (nearestvessel) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-08-28 17:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, abigail hobbs, samandriel |
Who: Abigail Lecter & Samandriel
What: Samandriel talks to Abigail about the fact that he has his wings and popping in and out of places is a thing that happens now. (Also, his mother is an awful human being, he has a new job and other such things.)
When: Monday - 8/26 - evening
Where: Abigail’s room, Paris
Rating: Low(ish) - They talk briefly about their respective relationships
Status: Complete
He knew he should have knocked or phoned ahead to make sure that she and Hannibal weren’t otherwise occupied, but the truth of the matter was that he hadn’t been thinking. He had to think about things in order to control them. This was mostly accidental, a passing whim of a young man who wanted very much to see his almost sister and who knew that he shouldn’t drop in on his brother because things might end very badly for him indeed.
And with a great flutter of wings, he was there in her room, on her unused bed all stretched out and staring at the ceiling like he’d been in his own. “Oh god damnit,” he said, frustrated and not even sure if he was alone in the room or not.
Abigail stepped out of the shower, unaware that there was someone in the house who wasn’t a resident. A fluffy white towel went around her body, another wrapped around her dark auburn hair. She hummed as she rubbed lotion into her damp skin, making sure she was mostly dry before stepping into the bedroom.
“Augh!” She flailed a little when she saw her best friend laying on the bed, laughing a little to herself. “Jesus, you scared me!”
“Sorry,” Samandriel said, rubbing his face. “Wings are a thing now, and the whole...instant transport crap that comes with it. I’m still getting used to it.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he fixed his gaze on the ceiling so she could get dressed properly. “Can we talk or is Hannibal expecting you?”
“Daddy’s got a patient,” she blinked. That meant they could talk. Had he just said wings? “May I see them?” She pulled on a pair of jeans, tugging hard due to wet skin. Skipping a bra, she just put on a tank top with one of her father’s cardigans over it.
Samandriel sat up and thought about it for a moment, deeply considering before he said. “I don’t know if you can see them properly. Most people can’t. It has to do with being able to perceive the divine, I think.” It wasn’t so much a religious thing, more a matter of ability and connectedness in the universe.
“Still…I think I can…” He got up and got the light on the ceiling, turning it off and then switching one on the desk, angling the lamp so it would point where he had the most room to stand. He moved over there, and thinking hard about it, brought out his wings enough to cast large shadows on the wall behind him. He wouldn’t risk her in the slightest by bringing them out fully.
When she saw the shadows he cast, her blue eyes went wide. “Do you like them?” It didn’t matter what she thought of them, as long as Samandriel was comfortable with them.
Samandriel put them away again and went to go sit on the bed once more. “I do,” he said and then flopped backwards again. It was a day for flopping. “Castiel and Lucifer says the colors suit me perfectly.”
“I like Lucifer,” Abigail offered. “He’s really ... I don’t know. I get why you love him.” She joined him to sit on the bed, curling her knees to her chest. “How’s your brother?” The meaning of family was something fluid for Abigail; she caught onto Samandriel’s newly formed, extended one fairly quickly.
Samandriel smiled almost dreamily thinking on Lucifer, and that lasted for a good long moment until he registered that she was talking about Castiel and he turned absolutely crimson. “He came on my face,” he said simply.
Abigail raised an eyebrow. “So you had a good weekend then.”
“That was ah...Wednesday.” Samandriel cleared his throat. “It was…unexpected. Not the coming at the time, that was definitely anticipated. The whole series of events unfolded in a very odd way.” He blushed. The ceiling was very interesting. “I’d gone over to his and Dean’s to speak with him and Dean assumed something was going on that wasn’t, not that I’d’ve minded if it were, but I’d never have without permission. Anyway, Dean called Lucifer and then permission was given and boundaries were set and Castiel and I were very thoroughly and delightfully punished.”
It was rare that Abigail felt normal, especially since she’d started sleeping with Hannibal, but sometimes when Samandriel opened his mouth, she felt downright average. “You’ve got the fastest learning curve,” she chuckled, ruffling his hair. “So you’re happy?” She hoped that he was; it was why she’d gone to visit Lucifer, after all.
“Mostly,” Samandriel said. “My mother’s still absolutely intolerable, but there’s nothing for that.” He sighed heavily, feeling his heart sinking in his chest all over again.
“What did she do now?” That sigh was familiar and heartbreaking. Rolling to her side, Abigail worried her lower lip with her teeth. She hated that woman.
“Lucifer offered me a position to play at Lux,” Samandriel said, staring up at the ceiling. “Only you know how she feels about my interest in music so we had to come up with a way to get her on side so I could quit Jamba and do something I love. Not that Jamba isn’t fine and all, but it’s...it’s food service. It’s not the most intellectually or creatively stimulating job.”
He took another deep breath. “So we came up with this sort of plan to have him come last night and pretend like he’d just discovered me there and was very interested blah blah blah. Not only did she buy the ruse but...but she just stood there treating me like some kind of commodity.” He slipped into the mocking voice he used for his mother when he was particularly upset over something, which wasn’t all that often. Usually, he just let it roll off his back and moved on with his life, “I’m sure a man of your considerable connections would be a great benefit to Samandriel, but I’d hardly be willing to simply sign my son away without some assurance to his future.”
He looked at Abigail. “Direct quote. I felt like a fucking golden retriever.”
“And this is different from how she usually treats you how? It just sounds more overt than usual.” Abigail rolled over to hug her friend, sighing a little to herself. “I kind of wish I could hit her.” She hated his mother, and made no move to hide it. “Did she do it?”
Before, Samandriel had been able to just pretend like she was busy or it was just how she was. His mother was a brusque woman. Some people were like that. Now? “It’s just startling to realize that your mother doesn’t actually love you,” he said quietly, turning his attention back to the ceiling.
“Regardless, she consented to him employing me, and went so far as to refuse to give me a ride after she made me retake the SATs this morning. Again. Not that I need it now anyway, but the point remains.”
“Why is she such a bitch?” Abigail sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest. “Just ... you deserve someone who loves you. You’re fantastic and amazing and I just - anyone who doesn’t see that is an idiot.” Which meant that his mother, by proxy, was the queen of the idiots.
“I can promise you I got a perfect score this time, though so at least I’ll stop being a disappointment in that area.” He sighed again and rolled onto his stomach to cuddle one of her pillows. “I have Julia. Sometimes I wish she was my real mother and not ‘just the maid, Samandriel.’ I don’t think mother even understands how important she’s been.”
“Samandriel, I don’t know how else to say this, but she doesn’t. Don’t think she doesn’t understand, know it. You were cursed with a milquetoast dad and a bitch of a mother, but it sort of balances out because you’re better than both of them put together.” Hell, she half hoped his stupid mother could see his wings, so she’d know what she’d snubbed.
“Abigail,” he sighed. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m leaving at winter break and they can’t stop me.” He looked over at her. “You don’t try to sell Lucifer Morningstar something that’s already his.”
“He cares about you, though. Not that you don’t know. But with your mom, you just shouldn’t have had to put up with her shit this long. She’s done this to you as long as I’ve known her.” Abigail had never enjoyed going to Samandriel’s house if his parents were there. “What is it about college? The first day of the rest of your life?”
“I thought that was high school,” Samandriel said, rolling his eyes. “And anyway, I’ve decided I’m not going to bother with college. At the rate I’m going, I’ll have the whole of human history in my head from Creation to the present and I really doubt that there’ll be any need for me to study anything. Why would I waste my time and money even though both are, on a grand scale, utterly inconsequential to me.”
“High school kind of sucked, didn’t it?” She rolled over to kiss his forehead. “Nothing’s going to stop you. The rest of us, though, well. We’re not as smart, so we have to have some school.” She wondered what he wanted to do, but didn’t ask. When he found out, he’d tell her.
“It’s less to do with smart and more to do with not being the same species,” Samandriel said quietly.
She felt a bit odd, almost like he was moving onto some other journey without her. She didn’t know what else to do besides being supportive as usual, so she didn’t say anything. She could hear Hannibal’s voice in the back of her head, saying that the transition from best friends who did everything together to two individuals with different lives would be bumpy, but doable. “I suppose,” she said, equally quiet.
Standing up, she pushed off of the bed and folded her arms, pulling her sweater tighter over her chest.
Samandriel closed his eyes, feeling very keenly like he’d fucked up on a rather epic scale. “Abs,” he said, voice keening. “Nothing changes between us. Promise.”
“Just you. Just all of you. I’m happy, just scared.” She looked out the window and shook her head. “Just ignore me.”
Samandriel got up and walked to wrap his arms and his wings around her from behind as though he could protect her or maybe they were on the cover of some cheesy romance novel that they were reading the back of in the used book store.
“Never,” he promised.
Sniffling, she chuckled and leaned into him. “Love you too,” she murmured. “I’m glad you’re happy, Samandriel. It’s ... it took too long.”
He kissed her temple, nose gentle in her hair. “Come on,” he said softly. “I want you to see something.” But instead of letting go or moving at all to show her, there was the great beating of wings and they were at the very top of the Eiffel Tower before it opened, watching the sun gradually start to peek over the horizon and the city wake up.
If it had been anyone else flying her somewhere, she’d have screamed just from the sheer unexpectedness of it all. But it was Samandriel, and her brother had never steered her wrong. So she simply gasped, eyes going wide, reaching up to cling to his hands as they were wrapped around her. “Oh, Samandriel,” she murmured, biting her lower lip. Belatedly, she wished she’d brought a camera to take photos. “This is beautiful.”
“That’s the color of my wings,” he said, watching the shifting oranges, purples, golds and pinks. “The bend of the main joint is about four feet above my head and the tips still nearly touch the ground.” He let go and stepped back, marking the start of the joint on his back on hers and then finding the bottom of it angled just slightly as though if given enough length it would have created a perfect v at the small of his back. “Like that.”
“Then everyone is right. That does suit you.” The wingspan was impressive, though she suspected he knew as such. “Do Castiel and Lucifer have theirs yet?”
The wingspan wasn’t so much impressive as it was proportional. His bones weren’t hollow and he needed the lift. This body wasn’t truly the scale of his own either. “No,” he said softly, wrapping around her to cuddle again.
“Castiel’s will be like that, though.” He turned them around to face the other side, deeper purples and blues, bits of black all glistening in the distance. “And judging by what I can see of Lucifer, his will be white. Perhaps with hints of blue in it, but it’d be very pale blue.”
“It makes sense you’d all be beautiful, though.” She squeezed his hand and wondered if this would be enough to make her believe in God. It surprised her that her immediate answer was no; not in this universe. Maybe in whatever world Samandriel dreamed up, but not where they were currently living.
“We’re not,” he said softly. “The three of us, perhaps, yes, but there is different beauty in others. Joshua, for example, has wings the color of rich, healthy soil, so brown as to almost be black. Another angel might describe them as simply dirt. Or shit, I suppose if you’re speaking to Zachariah. Angels are as beautiful as people are. It all depends on how you look at them.”
“You’ll always be beautiful, because you always have been. So there.” She looked down at the ground below them, letting herself get dizzy before looking back at solid ground. “What are you going to do after you graduate, then? You and Lucifer should go on adventures.”
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I suppose with everything I’ve taken I could probably put in to graduate at semester, which is a bit unorthodox, but they’ve allowed it before. It just means that I wouldn’t be taking any AP exams, but frankly, with my GPA and the SAT score I’m anticipating I’m not worried about having to pay for college if I do ever decide to go.”
“You’ll only have forever, right?” She looked up at him, blue eyes filled with worry. “You have to promise that when I’m old, you’ll find someone else to laugh with.” He’d been human once, and she felt that he needed to remember that sometimes. “God, this is such Anne Rice bullcrap.”
Samandriel shrugged. “Who says I won’t just fix you up?”
“You can do that?” She raised an eyebrow. “Are you allowed?”
“I don’t know if we’re actually held accountable here,” he pointed out. “Lucifer walks the earth, doesn’t he? That’s not supposed to be a thing that’s allowed and honestly, I really don’t think that Castiel is going to let Dean meet old age. I don’t think he could handle it.”
“That makes sense, I guess. You guys probably aren’t supposed to be having orgies, either.” If she couldn’t tease her best friend, who could she tease?
“It was a threesome, not an orgy,” Samandriel pointed out, pinching her playfully in the ribs. “The orgy’ll be later. Who knows, maybe we’ll invite you and Hannibal.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Abigail giggled, squirming away. “Daddy’s kind of possessive. This only started because I kissed Fred and George.” She gripped the railing, leaning backward onto her heels.
“So are Lucifer and Dean,” Samandriel said quietly. “But the things men do to their subs to teach them lessons, right? He actually made Castiel watch while he sucked my cock.”
“Daddy almost wanted to hit someone for kissing me, I don’t know what he’d do if he watched someone else go down on me,” Abigail shrugged. “Speaking of. I made this new friend, and we ... do you have sexual tension with anyone you know you can’t have? And don’t even want, not really?” She didn’t want to speak to Hannibal about this for obvious reasons.
Samandriel closed his eyes and answered softly, “Yes. For as much as I have sexual interest in anyone, yes. Though I wouldn’t really call it tension as I’m almost certain it’s not mutual.”
“If you want to talk about it with me, you can. But ... what should I do? I told him I have a boyfriend, but I’m ninety percent sure I leaned in when he touched my scar.” Abigail chewed her lip in worry, sighing a little to herself. “I’m so mean.”
“My attraction to any one person doesn’t matter. I have Lucifer and the promise of perhaps one day playing with the Winchester men again.” He touched her scar gently, brushing her damp hair back over her ear.
“You do nothing. Let the attraction run its course and stay where your heart wants you to.”
“I just feel like I owe Brandon more than apologies. But if I lost Daddy...” She closed her eyes when Samandriel touched her scar, smiling when she felt nothing but the warmth of his skin. Feeling sexual attraction toward him would feel wrong, incestuous. (She was aware of the irony.) “You’d like him. He’s the kind of boy Daddy would want me to date.” Hannibal had even stated his preference that she find someone her own age. But if there was any quality that Abigail had in spades, it was stubbornness.
“So long as you let me be the one to take you to prom,” he said simply. “I don’t think I’d like anyone else dating you. You and Hannibal...you fit. I’m glad you have him and I wouldn’t want to imagine anyone else with you.” Which perhaps sounded odd, but he’d had time to accept it now, properly and the experience to see things through her eyes. He’d done unspeakable things with his brother on a celestial level after all.
“You owe Brandon nothing. You promised him nothing. It’s simple enough.”
She smiled, tiptoeing up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You can take me to your prom. Promise.” She’d stayed home for hers and had dinner and dancing with her father. He hadn’t quite taken her virginity that night, but it had only been her third time. She still had the dress. “Did I show you the dress Daddy got me for our two-person prom? You’d like it.”
His advice was sound, and she knew Samandriel was right. She’d told Brandon that she had a boyfriend. He’d just have to ignore the way her breath hitched when he touched her scar. She just regretted it; it was a fairly simple solution. “Who’s the person you have the tension with, then? Anyone I know?”
A thought and they were back in Abigail’s room. He didn’t want Hannibal upset with him after all.
“No,” he said softly. “And it’s not proper tension if it’s one-sided, like I said. There has to be pull from both ends, otherwise it’s just fruitless yearning and will pass.”
“It’s not Dean, is it?” That name had been bandied about a bit, so she shot in the dark.
“No, it’s not Dean,” Samandriel said, wrinkling his nose. “Or even truly Castiel, though I wouldn’t mind falling asleep on him again or perhaps a lazy make out but nothing more. Will you stop guessing, I’m not telling you.”
She laughed at his nosewrinkle. “As long as it’s not Daddy, we’re fine.” She took off the sweater of his she was wearing and moved to put her hair up. “Do you want food? I could make you something.”
“No, but thank you for offering.” He didn’t dignify the Daddy comment with an answer. “And uh, maybe don’t tell him I stole you away briefly to Europe. I wouldn’t want him mad at me for it.”
“He wouldn’t be. I keep telling you, he trusts you.” Abigail sat down, looking at him. “I’m just glad these changes make you happy, that’s all I can say.”
He thought about it for a moment and went and sat on the bed with her, and then flopped on his back again. He was silent for another long moment before he spoke, soft and almost nervous. “I came to see your father yesterday.” He closed his eyes. “It’s just as hard dealing with it for me as it is for you, except you feel like you’re losing your best friend and I’m terrified I’m losing myself.”
Abigail nodded. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how difficult it must be to start changing, to find one’s own body changing - her empathy only stretched so far. “I hope he helps,” she murmured. “I can’t imagine. Are the changes mostly good?”
Samandriel looked at her. “You know how before I said I could see what people truly were, like how I knew Lucifer was Lucifer even though he hasn’t even begun to dream and the exact hue of Castiel’s grace?” He didn’t wait for confirmation, that wasn’t a thing you forgot. “It’s gotten worse. Angel sensitivity, I suppose, but those senses seem to have increased to the point where...where I’ve started to hear prayers.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” She closed her eyes, trying to think of the words to say what she wanted. The words just didn’t come, so she settled for moving closer and wrapping her arms around his waist. “It must be awful but wonderful at the same time. Is it awful that I think if anyone should be able to hear them, I’m glad it’s you?”
“I can’t understand most of them,” Samandriel said softly. It made him jealous of Castiel, being able to hear but not know. He didn’t tell her that he was still learning to turn that off. “No, it’s not awful to think that, but there’s nothing I can do about any of it.”
“Better that someone hears them at all,” Abigail shrugged. “I used to think nobody did. Even if all you can do is hear, it’s a step up from them just bouncing in thin air.” She still didn’t like to think of the possibility of there being a god. Too many awful things had happened to her and other people in her dreams for Abigail to think God existed.
“From what I can gather, most people only pray when they’re desperate,” he whispered. He was a kid, technically. He didn’t know how to do this.
“Or in pain. You shouldn’t have to hear it if you can’t help.” It must have broken his heart. She moved closer to him, wrapping him up in her arms.
He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, closing her eyes and accepting her comfort for what it was. “Maybe soon, I’ll be able to understand and I can at least go listen for a while.”
“I hope you’ll be able to help at some point. I know you’d want to.” She stroked his hair, fingers light. “You’re the kind of person who cares a lot, so you’d be perfect.”
“I’m only one angel,” he said softly, “and there’s the balance to consider. I can’t go fucking up fate.”
“I never thought I’d say this but I wish God were here to help you.” She wrinkled her nose, letting her hand drift to his ear. Her fingers ran over the outside of his earlobe, massaging a little. It had soothed her as a child when her biological father had done it.
Samandriel sighed softly, but burrowed closer for more contact anyway. She helped. He couldn’t put this all on her, but that was why he was hoping he could make seeing her dad a regular thing, right?
“Maybe Daddy can at least help with the stress? Teach some techniques or something. He helped a lot after my bio dad died.” She continued gently massaging his earlobe, touch light.
“I’m hoping, or at least just...be someone to listen whose penis isn’t ever going to be around me at all ever.” He might have let out a very soft, contented noise, but only because contact felt good. “Problem is I need parental consent and...you know my mom. She’ll flip. So I either deal with this for another few months until I’m legal, or I get my dad to sign something and hope he doesn’t realize what, or I just forge it and hope no one says anything.”
“I could even forge it for you, if you wanted. You could say you didn’t know, or ... I don’t know. I just want to help keep you out of trouble. God, I hate that woman.” She normally tried not to hate anyone, but she really did hate Samandriel’s mother. Abigail could feel it rolling off of her in hot waves.
“Stop it,” Samandriel said lowly. She wasn’t the only one who could feel the hate rolling off of her.
She bit her lower lip. “I’m sorry.” Abigail closed her eyes trying to think of other things. She had a quick temper and she knew it, and she tried to think of things that made her happy: her mother’s laugh, the way her father nibbled his lower lip when he was nervous, and Samandriel’s smile.
“Thank you.” His eyes drifted gently closed again, and he was pretty sure he was about ready to just fall asleep there. It wouldn’t do him much good to. Quietly, he said, “I should probably go home and get to bed.”
“Okay. I love you, sweetheart. I really do.” She hoped he felt free to come over and see her more often.
“Love you too,” he said and lifted his head to kiss her forehead before he disappeared just as suddenly as he arrived.