Michael gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. His stance changed slightly. He kept his eyes on Gabriël, who stared blankly at Raphael. There was no telling how he would react to what the physician had just revealed.

"You're... No, you're lying," he uttered. "It's not... You're lying!"

"I'm not," said Raphael. "We've run the test several times to make sure, and the results were all the same. Joan is pregnant."

Gabriël gasped and released Raphael. He slowly shook his head in disbelief, then froze and turned his attention to Michael.

"Did you know?" he demanded. "When you found us in the caverns, did you know then?"

"I need not explain myself to you, Gabriël," said Michael.

"DID YOU KNOW?"

Michael held out his sword to keep Gabriël at bay as he approached. The rage burning his ocean eyes terrified Michael so that his voice trembled slightly as he said, "Yes, I knew."

"You bastard! You know it's pure torture when an angel's wings are taken away! What if something has happened to the baby? To my child?"

"Joan is safe," Raphael said quickly. "She's with the Nephilim. They will care for her."

A brief glint of relief crossed Gabriël's expression. As he kept his gaze on Michael, a hard, defiant gleam appeared in his eyes then.

"Take my wings."

Michael stiffened. He felt as if Gabriël had gutted him by speaking those three words. A knife twisted inside, shredding him to pieces. 

"Didn't you hear me?" asked Gabriël angrily. "I said, take my wings. Now!"

"You would give all you have up?" whispered Michael. "For her?"

"For them."

Not again. Not another one. No!

"That will not happen, Gabriël," Michael said, regaining his senses. "I will not allow the collective to be weakened."

"Do not compare me to him, Michael! I will keep fighting for our cause, you know that. I will join the Nephilim she's with now. But you cannot keep me away from my family."

"We are your family! Not that girl and the abomination she carries!"

Gabriël lunged at Michael like a roaring tiger at its prey. He pushed Michael onto his back, hands around his throat. The sword clattered to the ground, lying just out of Michael's reach. Raphael rushed toward them and tried to pry Gabriël off, but the latter pushed him away. Left with no other option, the physician took up Michael's sword and pierced it through Gabriël's right shoulder. The Archangel screamed in pain, releasing Michael from his death grip.
Gasping for breath, Michael rolled away and stumbled up to Raphael's side, his face horror-stricken at the sight before him. Gabriël was on his knees, holding the double-edged blade of the sword. Blood dripped from his fingers. He raised his head, revealing a pair of demonic, obsidian eyes.

"It's not nice hurting your friend like this," Gabriël chuckled in an unholy, raspy voice. "You wanted to see him bleed? To see him in pain? You've succeeded. See before you what will happen to all the Archangels. Their blood will be on your hands, Lord Protector."

His malicious laugh echoed through the catacombs, chilling Michael to the bone. 

"What are you waiting for? Do it now!" Raphael pushed him forward.

Shaking, Michael grasped his weapon with one hand and forced Gabriël's head down with the other.

"In Dei nomine, ego voco super Ignem Caeli." 

The laughter continued. Michael felt the sword shudder in his hand. Something was amiss. He tried again, louder this time.

"In Dei nomine, ego voco super Ignem Caeli!"

Gabriël's breath caught in a chortle. He made a sickening choking sound from his throat. Heat radiated from the blade in his shoulder.

"You think you can burn me away, Lord Protector?" A deeper, invisible voice suddenly resonated through the cell. "You think Heaven's Fire will stop me? You've already lost! He is mine!"

No! One more time, Michael thought. Just once more.

"In Dei nomine, ego voco super Ignem Caeli!"

Fiery blue and white flames burst out of the sword. They danced around Gabriël's body, enveloping him in a giant fireball. He screamed as if lifted him into the air. Raphael pulled Michael away from it, shielding his eyes from the supernova before them.
Beings touched by Heaven's Fire suffered as the flames scorched the darkness from within. Most died. Only a few celestials had withstood the excruciating pain and lived. They were left paralysed, comatose even, for several hours, and woke absent memory. It was like dying and being reborn. Only once before had Michael used the fire of the Lord against another Archangel. He had still lost that Archangel to the darkness. There was no certainty that Gabriël would even survive this torment, but what else could he do? He had to save him. 

The echo of Gabriël's cries lingered as the blue fireball died out. He fell to the floor, limp like a rag doll. The sword was no longer lodged in his shoulder, but floated down beside him with a quaint, fading glow. His skin appeared smooth, though, as if there had been no wound at all.
Raphael knelt beside Gabriël, with Michael hovering behind him. The physician checked the wound from the poisoned dagger. A single white scar, barely noticeable, was the only thing left.

"He seems all right physically," said Raphael. "We'll have to wait until he wakes up. Michael, that voice, was it...?"

Michael didn't look at Raphael, and just stared at Gabriël. He was completely shaken. That voice... He hadn't heard it in ages. It had been banished from his thoughts, along with everything else he ever felt about and for his lover. Now, all the memories, all those feelings, were crashing down on him in an overwhelming flood, sickening him.
Would he never be rid of this? Would he never be rid of him? 

***

Gabriël's skin tingled feverishly as a residue of blueish flames licked his body. He tried to open his eyes, but couldn't even do that. He lay completely frozen.

"It will be a while before you can move." The demon's voice, ever-present and lurking in the shadows of his mind, pulled at him, dragging him deeper into the thick fog of his subconsciousness.

"What happened?" asked Gabriël.

He suddenly realised he wasn't moving his mouth to speak. This conversation took place in his head. 

"Michael cleansed your body from the poison," the demon answered him. "He used his sword to call forth Heaven's Fire. Your body has fully healed, so when you wake up, you'll be a lot stronger. The link in our minds will also dissolve, but it's still strong enough to save you."

"Save me? From what?"

"Amnesia. A fun side effect God created in case His 'beloved' angels needed to be stripped of evil. Apart from the paralysis, I mean. Our link should have preserved your memories since your mind currently shares two hosts, but even so, I wouldn't worry. You're still an Archangel, and I regained my own after a day or so. It'll be fine. Now tell me, did your so-called 'friends' admit to the truth?"

Gabriël's memories were slightly muddled, but they indeed hadn't gone. He remembered his entire existence as an Archangel. All the good he did, all the lives he saved, but also lost. He remembered Joan. Their strong friendship, the agonizing desire for her, the pleasure of her body... And he remembered Raphael telling him she was pregnant. Joan carried his child. 
A storm of emotions raged inside Gabriël. His joy was eclipsed by anguish. His love for Joan clashed with his fury against Michael. He wanted to weep and shout at the same time.

"I'm sorry, Gabriël," continued the voice in his mind. "I know how you feel."

"You know nothing," Gabriël sneered back.

"I know Joan needs you."

"In case you didn't notice, I'm still trapped here! I can't even move!"

"Technicality. I told you; I will help you get away from Michael, and I will help you find Joan."

"And the moment you see I have her in my arms again, you will no doubt take her away from me. Don't pretend to be all chivalrous now. You always had a vile way of getting what you thought belonged to you."

"Hm, nice to see you remember that much, at least." The demon chuckled. "You're only partly correct, though. The only thing I want is what you want. I want Joan and your child safe from harm."

"Why?" demanded Gabriël. "Why do you care about us?"

"I don't. My plan was to use you to strike at Michael. To weaken the collective. But I do care about your child. I don't want history repeating itself."

"What are you talking about?"

"Perhaps it's time you knew." The voice sighed. "What God and Michael have tried so hard to cover up, Gabriël, is that the Archangels have the power to give life. You unfroze Joan from her suspended animation with a single touch without realising it."

Gabriël gasped in shock. This couldn't be true. Surely this had to have happened before then.

"It did happen, Gabriël. With me. Think about it. How did Raphael come upon the ingredients to create those contraceptive draughts? Why is it only Archangels get a loophole in the rule that forbids affairs in Heaven? Why is it only you are allowed mortal lovers when all others are sent back to Earth as Nephilim at the slightest transgression? That ridiculous rule was put in place after I fell. It's all because of me!"

"T-That's not -"

"Since creation itself, we all thought it was impossible to conceive in Heaven. And yet, here we are. You fathered a child with a celestial stagnant in time, the same as I fathered one with a barren woman on Earth nearly two millennia ago. You allowed yourself to love. To grasp it, to feel it, to let it fill your being. That is when the magic took place. And when Joan returned your love, a greater power was conceived. A being far purer than anything you could ever fathom. I never betrayed any of you, Gabriël. That was just the excuse Michael used to justify what he did. To cover up his own monstrous acts."

"No, you dabbled in dark powers," said Gabriël sharply. "Powers no angel is ever supposed to possess. If you truly sired a child, it's because of what those powers did to you both. You went too far, and that is why we came after you."

"That is what Michael told you," he heard the voice say. "And yes, I admit I acquired some extra skills along the way. But that was after I fell in love. After I wed, and after my child was conceived. I did what I had to in order to keep my wife and unborn son safe. Surely you, of all people, will understand that?"

He did, though Gabriël wouldn't admit it aloud. If he had the power to save Joan and their child, to have her here in his arms right now, he wouldn't hesitate. 

"You... knew it was a boy?" he asked despite himself.

"Yes," said the demon. "When I first 'dabbled', I briefly gained the power of foresight. I saw my son in my arms. It was a clear, promising future. Until you and Michael came, that is. Instead of seeing my son, I saw my wife take poison, given by Michael, to end our child's life before he was even born because he convinced her I merely used her. Hoping I could prevent it from happening, I walked the path that would only seal their fate."

The fog cleared, and Gabriel could see a dark figure before him in his mind's eye. The man kept his face hidden in shadows, but Gabriël did not need to look at him to remember those handsome features.

"You loved another before you were with Margaret of Antioch," he said. "One of our own. Was it really so easy to abandon him? To simply walk away and choose her over him?"

The figure turned from him.

"It was the hardest thing I ever had to do," he said sadly. "Believe me, I tried to dismiss what I felt for Marina, but I couldn't ignore what my heart was telling me. And when my vision showed me she was pregnant, I just... I had to make a choice."

If Gabriël didn't know whom he was dealing with, he would've taken pity on the man. But he did know. What he remembered well enough was a trickster. He didn't believe for a second that Margaret had been pregnant, nor that the demon before him had ever loved her. It was a well-concocted story, but not enough to make Gabriël second-guess what he had so long believed.

"You still find it hard to trust me, then?" The demon had read his mind yet again. "Perhaps you should ask the Lord Protector about this. He will deny it at first, of course. But eventually, you will get the truth from him. And then you will ask for my help."

"Feeling confident about that, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. For one simple reason; I am the only one who has been completely honest with you so far. We are more alike than you think."

The fog cleared. The cloaked figure vanished. Gabriël's eyes shot open. He gasped for breath, and his heart thumped erratically. He waited a moment until it steadied and sat up, wincing at the strains of this aching body. The heat of the blue flames was at long last ebbing away.
He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the cold air from the catacombs, and looked ahead, thinking of the demon's last words to him. His fist balled until it trembled.

"No, we're not." 

***

Joan had been feeling nauseous ever since she woke up in the infirmary. Olympe had brought her to a quiet room, painted entirely in green. The flowers on the curtains and the plants in the corners made Joan think of a meadow or forest. It had a soothing effect for a while, but she missed the smell of flowers, the feeling of grass underneath her feet... The window didn't open, so there was no chance of enjoying a cool breeze either. Sunlight seemed to enter through the window, but it had to be some sort of illusion because she had seen fish swim by. 
Joan tried to get some sleep, but her mind kept wandering to Gabriël, to her mother... Borgia's words echoed in her head. She didn't want to believe him. Yet her heart filled with doubt.

Gabriël only admitted to loving me after the attack, she thought. What if it really was an effect of the poison? His feelings for me... It could all be fake. He's an Archangel. He wouldn't risk his position for me. But then why would he tell me he hadn't been to Earth to take a lover since I arrived in Heaven? Did the demon inside him spur him on to say that so I wouldn't leave him? Was this his plan? Getting me banished so Borgia could take me down to the Circles?

A million questions came to mind, making Joan's head hurt. The soft knocking on the door sounded more like the banging of a gong to her. She tried to get up from the bed, but everything spun around her. Joan dropped back against the cushions.

"Come in," she said with a groan.

Anne entered the green room, leaving Thomas outside in the corridor. He nodded to his wife and closed the door to leave them alone.

"Joan, how are you?" asked Anne as she came to sit with her on the bed. 

"Honestly, a bit sick. My head hurts. I never imagined that getting my wings taken from me would put such a strain on my body."

"It's certainly an ordeal." Anne's smile seemed a bit forced as she spoke. "Joan, there's something we need to discuss. I asked Thomas to go up to the Gates and let Peter know you are safe with us. When he got there, your friends, Cate and Marina, were waiting for him. Raphael joined them as well. They told Thomas everything."

Joan felt even sicker than she already was. If Thomas learned the real reason for her banishment, he might send her away. She wouldn't blame him if he did.

"You know then?" she whispered.

"Of you and Gabriël? Yes, Thomas just informed me. Joan, you could have told us. Anyone of us knows what it's like to love someone when it is forbidden."

"I just assumed... It's different. Gabriël is an Archangel. Even if we had come forward, Michael would not have allowed us to join the Nephilim. He wouldn't have allowed Gabriël to leave. Not that it matters now, anyway. I lost my wings for a lie."

"Why do you say that?"

"Gabriël had six hundred years to say something to me, Anne. He only did after he got poisoned and a demon took control of his mind and his actions." Joan couldn't keep her tears back any longer. "His feelings for me were never real. And I fell for it."

"Écoute-moi," said Anne, taking Joan's hands firmly in her own. "Men are idiots. Always have been, always will be. Thomas loved me all his life, but never admitted it. Only when he saw me again in the Vale did he tell me of his feelings. He had wished a thousand times over that he had told me before Henry chose me as his mistress, and I smacked him so hard for not having done so. Imagine the life we would've had. True, I wouldn't have been Queen of England and neither would Elizabeth have been. But my daughter would have grown up in a loving home instead. And I wouldn't have been beheaded. You can't change the past. It's easy to say 'if only' or 'what if' and dream about the things that could have been. But there's one thing I know; feelings can't be faked. They are made in your very soul, in the deepest of your heart. If Gabriël has admitted to loving you, then he does. You must never doubt that. Poison might enhance feelings, but create them? Even God Himself can't do that."

Joan knew Anne was right. But she still couldn't forget about what Borgia had said.

"Did they tell Thomas what Michael did to Gabriël?" she asked Anne, hoping to change the topic so she wouldn't notice.

"He imprisoned him in the catacombs again."

"Damn him." Joan had to fight back the urge to punch a hole through the wall.

"There's... something else you need to know." Anne took a steadying breath, which worried Joan. "Raphael broke his promise to Michael to tell Thomas something... incredible, really."

"What is it?"

"Well... Um, you said you had a headache? Have you been feeling nauseous as well? Dizzy? Tired?"

"Yes, but that's just from losing my wings." Joan noticed how Anne briefly pressed her lips together. "Isn't it?"

"What about your sense of smell? Is it heightened?"

"I... Maybe, I don't -"

"Are your breasts more sensitive?"

"Anne, stop! Why are you asking me all this?"

Anne sighed and then said, "Joan, you're pregnant."

Joan gaped at her. If this was her idea of a joke, it wasn't funny. But the serious expression on the former Queen's face quickly told Joan this was far from a joke.

"No, you're mistaken. I-I'm not..." She scrambled out of bed in a frantic state. "No, no, I can't be! It's impossible! Angels are frozen in Heaven! We can't get... We don't even get sick! H-How could I be pregnant?"

"I know it's a lot to take in. Raphael told Thomas they ran your blood test several times to make sure. Somehow, it happened. You're carrying Gabriël's child."

Gabriël's child, Joan thought, touching her belly. I'm... I'm carrying...

Now that she thought about it, she had been feeling sick for much longer. She'd believed it was because she was so worried for Gabriël and then the shock her body underwent after losing her wings. Joan remembered the conversation she'd had with Gabriël about this. He'd assured her this couldn't happen.

Did he lie to me that day?

"Your friends know," said Anne. "Raphael and Michael know as well. Your mother, too, I believe."

My God... So that's what you tried to tell me, maman.

"What of the others here?"

"I've asked Thomas not to say anything. It's up to you if you want them to know the entire story. If not, then you can trust Thomas and me to keep quiet for now. But if you want my advice, both Olympe and Hypatia are excellent healers. You can confide in them."

"And did Thomas mention if Gabriël knows about my... I mean, our... You know?"

"He didn't say."

Joan dropped back onto the bed. Her mind was reeling. She knew she was fortunate to have found a safe haven among the Resia Nephilim. But she also knew if the demon that took control of Gabriël was aware of her condition - or, God forbid, even had a part in it - it would only be a matter of time before she fell into his grasp. She couldn't let that happen. It was no longer her own life that lay in the balance, but that of her baby. Whatever happened, the darkness would never get her child. That, she swore.