Azrael – Now
It was devastating to hear of the harsh life such a young boy had had to live, abandoned by the world and any family he had ever belonged to. The imagery of Pavel shivering in the falling snow, small and frail, sent painful aches through his heart. Azrael's youth had not been kind to him, but that was a hardship he had never had to endure. Despite it all, he had always had a roof over his head and food to eat, even if it was scant.
Contrarily, the way Pavel spoke of the men who had taken him in endeared him, a gentle warmth in Azrael's chest that seemed to sing that he was glad that, even for a small period, there had been people who loved him. The concept of a gentle hug, an affectionate pat on the head, a search for a name that suited him, was foreign. Even though Master Lynch had named him and he still kept it, he only knew why he had been named that many years later when he'd been asked if he was religious. It took until a stranger pried for him to learn.
His namesake was the biblical angel of death.
Ironic, fitting and cruel. Shamelessly so.
Staring down at the man lying in his lap, Azrael schooled his features into something soft, a simpering gaze, once he broke out of his reminiscing. Pavel's stared off into the distance, past his face, past the ceiling above them like he looking all the way out to the end of the universe to avoid continuing his story.
Azrael's talons carded through Pavel's hair and his fingers danced along the scales of his tail. It was quiet between them as Pavel pondered, wordlessly.
Time passed uninterrupted for far too long since his story tapered off and Azrael tentatively spoke up for the first time since Pavel's weight had settled on his legs. "They seem kind. How long were you with them? Was it… was it until that night?" Azrael didn't know why he danced around talking about the auction but a nauseous stab of guilt constricted his throat and that answered that.
"I lived there until I was 18 when I was shipped off to England and abandoned. Being sold off at that time… was a formality between Mr Du Rand and the ones who bought me. I… I still don't know the ins and outs of it all. I suppose it doesn't matter anymore." Pavel's sigh was heavy with the weight of nearly three decades of torment. The shadow in his gaze did not belong to the eyes of someone so young, though the same could be said for Azrael. Their gazes were gaunt and aged. "He was French, a foreigner who had become very wealthy through underhan- selling people. He dealt in people. Du Rand was… that man was not kind. I was just too young to realise."
"Oh." They hadn't gotten to that part of the story and Azrael assumed thoughtlessly. It should have been obvious. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."
Pavel's lips curled into a sorrowful, small but caring smile as he finally settled his gaze back on Azrael's face. "Don't apologise. No apologies between us anymore, I think." His smile fell away. "Anyway, from the picture I've painted, they do seem loving, don't they? Like I hadn't just gotten a home, I'd gotten two father figures who named me and showered me with affection as well. It does sound like the start of a wonderful little story." His breath hitched in his throat, a choking noise interrupting his words. "They were a special kind of cruel, though I don't even know if they realise that they're evil… I suppose 'people' like that don't have that kind of self-reflection. They just do what they want."
A short exhale and a cold breeze tickled Azrael's hand and, undoubtedly, Pavel's face. Warmth pricked at his waterline but he was in no place to allow his emotions to take over. "No, those people don't have that. I played the part of one of them for a very long time, mingling with them, and I never saw a second of regret. It took me a very long time to learn how to care." Their locked eyes became too heavy so Azrael titled his neck, his head greeting the headrest of the sofa. "When I was a child, I thought it was just the cruelty of human beings. I've learnt since that it just seems that it doesn't matter what someone is. Humans are just the majority so they seem worse. I can't… the world is unjust."
"That's putting it lightly."
"Mhm."
Though his eyes were unfocused, not looking at anything, Azrael was keenly aware of the way Pavel was rubbing circles up and down the section of his tail that lay across his body. The less idle his hands were, the more Azrael knew he was stalling from telling the rest of his story.
Just before Azrael could ask Pavel if he really wanted to tell him anything at all, because didn't have to, Pavel spoke again, as his weight shifted in his lap. His warm breath spread across Azrael's stomach, heating the cold skin under his shirt. "Do you want me to continue to tell you the rest? If you don't want to listen, I won't."
I would listen to you talk about anything, even something pointless, and stupid for the rest of time. As long as you allow me to stay next to you. Azrael swallowed. "If you want to tell me, tell me. It is your life and it is up to you if you want me to know." As curious as he was, he couldn't bring himself to pressure Pavel. He couldn't bear the thought of making the man uncomfortable in his presence. "But… but I would like to… know more."
"Okay."
Pavel spoke on for a long while, recounting the swift decline of his life into abuse and depravity. After only six months of being housed by that Etienne, he was first thrust into the maw of adults who had a taste for non-human children. Despite the terror and pain that was inflicted upon him because of the callous actions and decisions of Etienne, Pavel emphasised how that man still displayed intense paternal affection and care.
"Every time I would be sent back to my room, bleeding and hurting, he would be waiting there, on my bed. His arms were always wide open, encouraging me into an embrace before he would bandage me and pump me full of painkillers." Pavel had closed his eyes, unable to face the world as he spoke. "He would hold me and praise me. Called me his special boy and that he loved me so much. I was just a child, of course, I believed it. Everything he did had a purpose and I simply didn't get it yet but it would all benefit me in the end."
Azrael was glad Pavel had stopped looking because he could feel the tracks of tears etching themselves down his face. They fell soundlessly. It took everything within to stop his voice from wobbling. "Jesus…" Azrael's voice was so quiet that wasn't even sure he had actually spoken. "That's…"
Pavel continued, not registering that Azrael had made an utterance. "Once I got older, I became more… disillusioned with him. I knew he was sending me off to those monsters, he knew what they were doing to me but he never did anything to stop them. I think… I think was 10 when I learnt it was all for money. I overheard a phone call and I had picked up a few words of French by then to know that he was talking about how much people were willing to pay for a night with 'his golden rabbit'." Ahitch in his words, a choke and Azrael knew Pavel was crying but he could hardly see his tears through his own. Pavel's soft fingers turned harsh and they dug deep into the scaled flesh of Azrael's tail but he couldn't pay attention to the sharp shock. "He comforted me when he heard me crying, though I wouldn't tell him why; I'd be in trouble if he knew. Everything was a lie. He was just like all those other adults who only wanted money. Greed was all he knew.
But he was still my father.
He was my dad."
Pavel knew that man wasn't his father. He knew that the man was just a wicked monster with a head filled with ideas to advance his social standing. At his hands, Pavel's entire childhood, and continuing life, were ripped away and contorted into something filled with unimaginable horrors. In his hands, he ruined Pavel.
However, no matter how deeply he knew this, no matter how many times he remembered, relived, what had happened, Pavel's childish mind still clung to the memories of the kind man who named him. The man who fed him. The man who held him and read him stories.
Despite it all, that man was still his father.
And that made it all the worse.
Neither of them could speak anymore. Pavel's sobs echoed through the empty halls of the house as he curled himself into a tight ball on Azrael's lap. His head was pressed firmly to his stomach as he wrapped his trembling arms around his waist. Hot, clammy breaths and his shuddering wails echoed through Azrael's entire body.
Azrael's own whirling emotions spilt out too. It was not his place but silent tears streamed down his face, gathering at his chin before they dropped down onto Pavel's shoulder. He already knew the man hadn't lived a good life before Azrael had stumbled into it, but hearing it was like a bullet was lodged into his stomach – he was bleeding out, dying slowly and he could feel every anguished drop of blood that eked out of his body. It was so crushingly hopeless.
He didn't care that Pavel hadn't told him about that bird man earlier, even though he'd promised he would. Azrael just wanted to comfort him; he just wanted Pavel to stop crying.
He needed him to stop hurting.
"Pavel." Hushed, reverent, calling out to someone that Azrael wasn't sure could hear him anymore. His voice muddled into Pavel's cries. "Pavel?"
His face pressed harder to the plane of Azrael's stomach. His shirt was soaked through now, clinging unpleasantly to his flesh but he paid it no heed as he strained to hear the whispering ministrations of the shattered man on his lap. Helpless, Pavel wailed, "My body's all I'm worth."
"No." All Azrael could do was rebuke his words. He knew how painful that thought was. "No, it's not."
Do I have a purpose if I don't kill?
Where do I belong if I stop?
Soft hair was completely entwined around Azrael's fingers now, his talons carding through it as he gently rubbed the fur of Pavel's ears. Azrael didn't know what to do so all he did was hold Pavel close to him as if he was intending to merge them together so neither of them would have to suffer alone.
The world was muffled.
Heavy breathing, his chest heaving. Wobbling, desperate intakes of oxygen as he sniffled back his tears, impatient for them to stop.
Finally, after what felt like decades, Pavel pushed himself up, his arms weak but he persisted until he sat up next to Azrael. They looked at each other for a moment before he crumbled forward again and crashed his face against Azrael's shoulder. He assumed Pavel wasn't ready to look at him again.
I understand.
"I am… I'm so glad that you're here." Pavel mumbled against Azrael's shirt, but he heard him clearly. With his mouth pressed tight to it, he spoke, making it damp with breath. Snuffling against the fabric, "You are probably the only good part of my life. The entirety of it has gone by and this time has been the only part of it when I've felt safe."
A thump, Azrael's heart skipped a beat but it swiftly fell to the pit of his stomach. You shouldn't. the good will end and I know you'll regret knowing me. "I'm glad that I can be here for you." Until the day you push me away, I will make you as happy as someone like me can. He knew he couldn't say that out loud. Azrael couldn't be so honest – he'd run from his feelings for a long, long time.
Pavel's nose rubbed against Azrael's shoulder and he heard him sigh, a much more contented noise than the agony he had been expressing only minutes ago. It almost felt like he'd heard Azrael's thoughts, warmly accepting his wayward feelings. Pavel's arms were back around Azrael's torso, tightly squeezing his waist but it wasn't uncomfortable. He relaxed into the man's hold before nervously putting his own around Pavel's shoulder. Everything was far more comfortable now.
"I love you."
Until it was suffocating.
Azrael stiffened at those words, but he didn't move. Unconsciously, he took in a sharp breath and took a moment to steady himself. Pavel's arms were still tight about him. Now it was almost crushing but Azrael couldn't push him away or run because that would hurt him more than anything else.
Neither of them spoke. Pavel waited for him and Azrael waited for his mind to conjure up what he should say. He was painfully focused on the way Pavel was almost biting his shoulder now and Azrael's breathing became odd.
"What?"