Demonic Influence (I hate my co-workers)

A Mockery Of Incredulity

"Brett! How nice of you to join us!" The angel's tone was pleasant, though his eyes burned with a righteous fury. "Though I suppose I expected you up earlier... I suppose some exceptions can be made, adjusting to Earth is hard."

Brett spared his watch a glance, his breathing heavy with nerves. His muscles were wound up like springs. It was five thirty in the morning.

The angel continued talking, taking in Brett's distress. "You're lucky I got here when I did, just in time to find this scum trying to break into your house." He gave Eddy a little shake.

"Put him down, Gabriel." For as scared as he was, Brett's voice was surprisingly steady. If he didn't know himself so well, he would even think to say that he sounded intimidating.

"What?" Gabriel's mockery of incredulity gave Brett shivers. "I thought you would be happy with me, for saving you from this monster."

No, not Eddy, never Eddy. Brett shook his head, it was all he could think to do. You're the real monster here.

"Unless, of course... you'd been so foolish as to invite this demon into your home," Gabriel said slowly, and Brett knew where this was going before he even finished his next sentence. "And that's something no proper angel would ever do." Gabriel examined his perfectly filed nails. "But then again, do you know what else no proper angel would ever do?"

Brett bit his lip. Silence was for the best now. Silence wouldn't get him into any more trouble than he was already in. But silence won't keep Eddy alive.

In a time where it felt like he had none, Brett found his voice. "Challenge you."

Gabriel looked genuinely surprised for only a moment, before his golden eyes flashed with mirth. He chuckled. "Come again?"

"Challenge you," Brett repeated, chin up. "No proper angel would challenge you, but here I am." He paused, biting his lip. "Since you're in my home, basic guest rights allow you the option to stand down and accept my terms without a fight. But I have this strange feeling that you would rather choke on your own tongue than go for that option. So drop the demon, and fight me."

Gabriel outright laughed at that, though he did let go of Eddy's throat. The demon slumped to the floor in a pile. "Don't even try to lecture me in guest rights, Yang, I made the guest rights. Besides, it'd be pretty hard to challenge an angel when you yourself no longer qualify as one."

The blood was slowly draining from Brett's face, he could feel it. He began to feel faint. "I'm sorry?"

"You heard me," the archangel outright sneered. "What, you thought we wouldn't find out about your little slip up in the alley? Tsk tsk, Brett..." Was it just him, or had the archangel began to grow? Gabriel's eyes seemed to glow brighter even as Brett backed away from him on shaking legs.

Eddy chose that moment to make a strangled kind of coughing noise from the corner, and Brett felt his heartbeat doing somersaults. "I-i don't know what you're talking about," Brett finally replied, doing his best to keep the archangel's attention on him. Then again, bolder. "I can't think of anything that I have done that would concern you."

"That's bullshit and you know it." Gabriel's words cut like knives. "You killed a man, Brett. I'm pretty fucking sure that concerns me, as your superior."

"It wasn't my fault." Brett's head was astoundingly clear, even as his back brushed the wall. Nowhere else to go.

"Oh come on, don't draw this out," Gabriel all but rolled his eyes. "I'm on a tight schedule here, you aren't even my most important meeting today." He cracked his neck, left then right, and rolled his shoulders. Brett's eyes zeroed in on the sudden movement behind Gabriel. Rustling feathers, white as snow.

Gabriel's wings seemed to take up the whole room. They curved almost inward, and the primaries must have been as long as Brett's forearms. They shone like a beacon in the low morning light, and they were the most beautiful thing that Brett had ever seen. It was a real shame, honestly, seeing as Brett might not get to see much else before he died.

It's not like he planned to lay down and die. But his back was already against the wall, and as Gabriel took another step towards him, Brett could feel a sudden tugging in his gut, a feeling of subordination, like he should drop to his knees then and there. Wind tousled Gabriel's short hair, the dirty blonde locks illuminated.

"Don't worry, my little cherub, I'm not going to kill you," the archangel said quietly, even as tears trickled down Brett's face. Gabriel cupped his cheeks, leaning closer, his voice barely more than a whisper. "This will hurt far worse than any death I could have gifted you."

Brett could feel himself fading into unconsciousness. His brain was turning fuzzy, the room spinning slightly. He squinted through his glasses, doing his best to stay awake. He had to focus on something, anything. There was an old grandfather clock in his foyer. It was oak wood, with a golden pendulum and blue accents on the clock face. The wood still smelled faintly of lacquer, despite its age, and he could never quite figure out how to sync up the clock with the actual time...

Brett gave into the lull of sleep, closing his eyes. So this is what Eddy felt like... He slumped to the hardwood floor.

Gabriel stood over him for a moment, before reaching out with one foot and very carefully, very casually, poking Brett in the stomach. Pursing his lips, he nodded. "It's a real shame," he whispered into the empty air even as he turned away, wings fading to nothing. "I liked you, Brett."

The house was silent. Brett lay sprawled across the wooden floors, glasses askew and hair still messy from sleep. The clock read six after seven, yet one would have to be a real fool to trust Brett's grandfather clock. He had said it himself, he had never quite figured out how to sync it up.

It was hours later, surrounded by this eerie silence, that Eddy finally began to come to.

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A/N: The (badly written) angst is literally almost over for now guys, I swear.