Michael sat at the wooden table in Peter's fisherman's hut, waiting for him to return. He felt guilty for taking so long to see the old man. Peter was a sage advisor, giving help to all whom asked for it. The Lord Protector sorely needed that advice now.
While Michael waited, he replayed the events of the past weeks in his mind. Was there ever a moment that he could have averted all the misfortune? Could he have stopped the attack at the Gates? Should he put Gabriël through the torture of being cleansed by Heaven's Fire just to cast out the demon within? Had he been too harsh towards Joan? Had he not been harsh enough?

"So lost in thoughts. Careful, Michael, you may not find your way back." The sudden sound of Peter's voice startled Michael, prompting the old man to offer a kind smile. "What is troubling you, my son?"

Son... Only Peter would call him that. Archangels had no family. They were created out of light, not born. Even though they had all been brought into existence together, they did not call each other 'brother' or 'sister' (though there were one or two exceptions). If Michael really had to call someone 'father,' perhaps God could take on that role. That simple word held so much meaning to every soul that had ever lived, but none to an Archangel. Yet, it warmed Michael's heart to even be considered a son by someone as gentle as Peter.

"I fear I have reached an impasse." Michael sighed. "I do not know what to do anymore."

"So you come to an old man for advice. A desperate move indeed."

Michael smiled weakly at the comment, and then said, "Gabriël's situation is not improving. Raphael discovered demon blood was in the poison Borgia used on his blade. It's extremely powerful and resistant to anything Raphael resorts to."

"Have you considered Heaven's Fire?" inquired Peter.

"I have. But I fear the effect it will have on Gabriël. He has never been one of the strongest Archangels. It may not kill him, but it will cause significant pain, especially if the darkness is rooted within him. So much that he may never recover."

"I do not share your concern with this. Gabriël is a lot stronger than you give him credit for. Yet his is a strength that comes from the heart, not the body. Michael," Peter paused a moment, "forgive me; I know I should not mention him to you, but... have you considered the possibility that it might be...?"

The unspoken name lingered between them. Michael shook his head, dismissing the notion Peter put forward.

"You know very well he is gone, Peter. The darkness corrupted him completely, and Heaven's Fire destroyed him. Even if, by some cruel twist of fate, it was him, that would not explain why I cannot help Gabriël."

"What do you mean?" asked Peter.

"His wound opened a few times since the attack," explained Michael. "It brought him to the brink of death, despite the antidote. Raphael told me I was to give Gabriël my blood, as I am first among the Archangels and possess more potent healing abilities. But mine does nothing to aid him. Only Joan's blood has helped so far."

"Joan? A mere angel? You don't say..."

"Why do you say it like that?" Michael's brow furrowed. "Do you know something?"

"Me? Nothing," the old man blurted. "Should I?"

"Peter, please. I am trying to save them both, despite what some may think. But if they have violated the rules, then I have no choice. This cannot go any further."

The old man sighed and leaned in as if he wanted to keep the discussion private.

"Gabriël approached me a very long time ago to ask for advice, as you are now," he admitted. "He was conflicted. I will not repeat what we discussed, for I will not betray his trust. Just know that, should Gabriël need... a witness, I will speak on his behalf."

"I see. And Joan?"

"You know how she is. Joan keeps to herself, never asking for help, even when it is clear she needs it. She huddles everything up inside until she reaches her breaking point. Only Gabriël can get through to her, but not always. I gave her my opinion when she was last here, but I cannot say what she did with it. I have not seen her since the attack."

Michael didn't know what to make of it. Clearly, Gabriël had been keeping his true feelings hidden for some time now. And Peter was right about Joan; she would never admit to anything. His only hope was to talk some sense into Gabriël. Or if he could speak with them together, maybe he could still do some damage control. Perhaps if he spoke with Joan now, then... Hold on.

"Joan should be here now," said Michael. "She has guard duty."

"Well, she is not here. Perhaps she is running late."

"No... Oh, God, no!"

Michael jumped up and dashed outside, failing to say goodbye to Peter in his haste. As he took to the sky, he tried to think when he had last seen Joan. He had been so preoccupied with Gabriël that he had completely lost sight of her. She had to be found before she did something stupid. Right now!

***

Raphael and Isabelle returned to the Hospitium after spending over an hour at the catacombs. Both were worried about Gabriël. He was losing weight, refusing to eat anything they brought him. The lack of sunlight wasn't doing him any good either. He was a mere shadow of himself. They knew the Lord Protector had his reasons to lock him away, but they couldn't help questioning those reasons.

"Is there really nothing you can do, Raphael?" asked Isabelle.

"I fear not," said the physician. "Michael is determined to keep him there. It's the first time in centuries, if not millennia, I've seen Michael in such a state. Nothing will change his mind."

"Surely Our Lord cannot condone this?"

"The Lord is silent toward me, Isabelle. I cannot pretend to know His will. But I would find it hard to believe He would allow such treatment."

They continued to the apothecary in silence. Isabelle entered the plant conservatory to put away their satchels whilst Raphael sat at the workbench. It was littered with papers, scrolls, and books Raphael had gathered in an attempt to treat his patient properly.

"We are missing something," he said, frustrated. "Something important about this vile poison used on Gabriël. If we could only find out whose blood was used."

"I trust in you, Raphael. You will find the answer, eventually."

"It's 'later' that worries me. Oh, I nearly forgot. Joan's blood is being analysed in the lab. Can you see if they have the results?"

"Do you think the answer lies with my daughter?"

"There is a chance, yes. It makes no sense that her blood can heal Gabriël's wound, and Michael's cannot. She is not an Archangel; she shouldn't have such healing abilities in her blood."

"Perhaps the Lord has called her to a higher purpose?"

"It is possible, of course. Yet I want to rule out everything else first."

Isabelle nodded and left Raphael to his thoughts. He thumbed through the pages of one of his books, though he knew it was in vain. He had read all of them already - thrice - and found nothing. There was nothing left to do but wait for Metatron to bring the rest from the Archivum.
Suddenly, Michael stormed into the apothecary. He was closely followed by Catherine and Margaret. They all had an agitated look, eyes searching the room frantically and chests heaving from running.

"Raphael, where is Isabelle?" demanded Michael.

"Running an errand for me," answered Raphael, his brow raised. "What's going on?"

"Joan's missing," said Catherine quickly. "We can't find her anywhere."

"I need to speak with Isabelle," said Michael. "I am hoping she knows where her daughter might be."

"Follow me."

Raphael led the group from the apothecary to the laboratory. He thought about the last time he'd seen Joan, but that had been in Gabriël's cell after she healed him. Michael had insisted on him drawing her blood before she left, and he told her to come by for the results in a few days, but she never had.

"Don't worry, we will find Joan," he whispered to Michael. "We've just returned from the catacombs, so she's not with Gabriël."

"Yes, I know. The sentries did not send a message, and we passed them on our way here."

They entered the laboratory and searched for Isabelle. Raphael stopped one of the researchers as he passed the group.

"Louis! Have you seen Isabelle?"

"Oui, she's just over... Oh, mes excuses, she was here a moment ago, speaking with Vesalius."

Raphael quickly walked over to the anatomist, who was tapping a vial of blood, a puzzled expression on his face. Papers were scrawled over his desk.

"Andreas, do you know where Isabelle is?" inquired Raphael.

"She was here to get Joan's blood results but left after reading them," said Andreas Vesalius. "I assumed she was going to get you. It's unbelievable, Raphael. I've run them twice already, and so far, the third test is coming up with the same result. Here."

Vesalius handed Raphael several sheets of paper. The physician looked them over, his eyes widening.

"Impossible," he mumbled.

"What is it?" asked Michael, coming up behind Raphael.

"See for yourself."

Michael read the papers in silence when Raphael handed them to him. Gradually, the Lord Protector's expression changed from concentration to shock until his face twisted in a violent rage. He slammed the papers onto the desk, causing everyone to shrink back.

"DAMN HER!"

"Michael, please, don't make hasty conclusions," Raphael cautioned him. "This has never happened before. We should treat this with care."

"No!" yelled Michael. "No, I warned her, Raphael! I warned them both!"

"Michael, please, don't!"

Before Raphael could stop him, Michael had already darted out of the laboratory. The physician took a seat at the desk and dropped his head. The girls shuffled forward, holding each other's hands.

"Can we do something, Raphael?" asked Catherine.

"Anything at all?" asked Margaret.

"We must find Joan or Isabelle before Michael does. Search the Vale. Ask everyone you meet on your way if they've seen her. I will run these tests one more time. Let us hope and pray this is not what I fear it means."

***

Gabriël huddled in the darkest corner of his cell. The light of the candle and the torch at the door hurt his eyes. He had become so accustomed to the dark these past days that he barely remembered the sun. Michael seemed intent on breaking him and only allowed Raphael and Isabelle to visit. If they didn't bring him food, it was brought by a sentry, but he barely touched it, for he lost all appetite. The only thought that kept him from closing his eyes and never waking up again was Joan. He had to believe that she was out there, safe and waiting for him.
Memories of her kept his heart beating and his mind clear. His feelings for Joan had grown much stronger now that they were being kept apart. All he could think of was holding her in his arms. But there was nothing he could do from inside the cell. And there was nothing Joan could do. If she so much as looked at Michael in a way he disapproved of, he would surely cast her out.

Damn you, Michael, Gabriël thought bitterly. How could you do this to me? When I get out of here, you will pay for this. If I get out of here...

The Archangel closed his eyes. He wondered how many more days he would have to endure. Four had gone by, yet it felt like twenty. Though only rung twice a day at noon and midnight, the soft chiming of the bell at the gate provided Gabriël with a way to keep track of time. He hated that sound, yet also waited for it desperately. It was another day without Joan, but it also meant he had gone through the day without incident. If he could just hold on, Michael would have to release him at some point. But when?
Worn out by lack of energy, Gabriël slowly sank into a restless slumber, dreaming of Joan and Michael. The dreams were always the same; they were fighting, either each other or demons. In the end, both were dead, and their blood was on his hands. And he revelled in the sight of it, laughing maniacally while overlooking the carnage through black eyes gleaming in the reflection of the ever-growing sea of blood.

Gabriël forced himself to wake up, shaking his head to cast the fatigue from his mind. He leaned back against the wall, eyes raised to the ceiling. Were the terrors he saw an effect of the poison, or mere dreams caused by his own concern for his lover and his friend? Or could they be visions of a future that was nearer than anyone realised? Was this a message from the Lord? How was he to know? What could he do?
A soft rustle alerted Gabriël. He looked towards the cell door. The heavy doors at the entrance of the catacombs hadn't creaked open, so it wasn't a guard, and the noise had come from the opposite side, from another cell. A cloaked figure came into view, standing at the door of his cell. He heard a key turning in the lock, and the figure stepped in, halting just before him. The cloak came off. Gabriël gasped when he recognised the one person he'd so yearned for.

"No," he whispered, his eyes tearing up. "No, you're not here."

Joan quickly grabbed his hands. Gabriël froze at her touch.

"I'm here," she said. "Hear my voice, feel my hands. I'm here."

"Joan... Oh, Joan."

Gabriël sunk into her arms, clinging to her body. He couldn't believe it. Joan came to him. She saved him in his darkest hour.

"I've missed you so much," he uttered in a broken voice.

"And I you. I'm sorry it took me so long. We have to go now. The drug I gave the sentries will only last an hour or so."

"What?" Gabriël sat up and looked at Joan. "You drugged the - Oh Joan, no!"

"Did you honestly think I would allow you to be treated like this? You are an Archangel, Gabriël. You have done nothing to deserve this."

"No, no, no. Joan, please go. If they wake up and find you here, they will alert Michael, and he will -"

"Screw Michael! He can go straight to the deepest Circle of Hell for all I care. He's locked you away like a common criminal while he continues to claim it's in your best interest. For Heaven's sake, look at yourself, Gabriël. You've lost weight, you're pale as a ghost, your strength is gone... Michael isn't helping you; he's destroying you."

Gabriël knew she was right. But he feared what Michael would do to Joan when he realised she had helped him escape and they were together. It would only confirm his suspicions about them, and the Lord Protector would not hesitate to act. He never thought it would come to this, but they were left with no other option. They had to get away as quickly as possible. 

"What's your plan?" Gabriël asked Joan.

"Let's get you out of here first. I'll explain the rest when we're safe."

Joan helped him up, placing his arm around her shoulders for support. She guided Gabriël out of the cell into the corridor. Instead of going to the entrance, they went to the end of the cell block. A hidden passageway in the wall opened when Joan pressed several stones. Gabriël frowned at her action. The escape tunnels would put some distance between them and Michael, but all still remained within his gaze. This wouldn't save them. Yet when he glanced at her, he saw nothing but determination. Confiding in his heart, Gabriël allowed Joan to lead him away from all he knew.

***

Dusk had already fallen by the time Michael returned to the Villa, and still no sign of Joan. Isabelle had read Joan's blood results, so she had to be searching for her daughter as well. He wondered if Isabelle had already found and told her about the results. Or perhaps, Joan already knew, and that's why she went into hiding. Whatever the reason, he had to find the girl and do what had to be done.
The weight of the heavy burden falling upon Michael's shoulders crushed him, mentally and physically. He hadn't slept in nearly twenty-four hours. But he couldn't afford to rest. Not now, when his dearest friend was in greater peril than he had ever guessed. 

"Michael! Are you here?"

Catherine and Margaret ran into his parlour, both panting and looking exhausted. They had been searching from the ground whilst Michael had looked from the skies and his balcony.

"Did you find Joan or her mother?" he asked.

"No," answered Catherine, dropping into a pile of cushions. "We've searched everywhere. Joan's house, Gabriël's house, the Gates, the Hospitium, the Scola... We've questioned everyone we came upon. No one has seen Joan in days."

"No sign of Isabelle either," added Margaret, sinking down next to Catherine.

"There must be a place we are not thinking of," thought Michael aloud, pacing before the girls. "A place that both Joan and Isabelle know, but that others may not frequent too -" 

"Michael!" Raphael's panicked cry interrupted Michael, his head turning to the other Archangel as he hurried into the parlour. "He's gone! Gabriël is gone!"

The Lord Protector stood frozen, staring wide-eyed at the physician. 

"What are you talking about? Explain yourself," he demanded.

"I went to see if Isabelle had gone to speak with Gabriël, and I found the sentries passed out. Their meals were drugged with a high dose of valerian root extract. Gabriël's cell was empty, but it doesn't look like he broke out himself. He had help."

"No... Damn that girl!"

"Michael, please don't," said Raphael hastily. "You are rushing to conclusions again. Don't forget that Joan is not the only one who disagreed with your latest treatment of Gabriël. Anyone could have got him out."

"I am not rushing to anything, Raphael; I am facing facts, and so should you! Joan has worked against me from the very start. The only one who could ever talk sense into her was Gabriël. They offered to be each other's guardians. Who knows how long this has been going on? Or do you honestly still question that they have lain together after what we just learned?"

The girls gasped, but Michael did not even care if they knew at this point. All that mattered now was retrieving Gabriël and getting him away from Joan before they lost another Archangel.

"Go back to the Hospitium, the three of you," ordered Michael. "I shall deal with this myself."

"My friend, I implore you not to act rashly. We have never dealt with something like this. We must treat this with care and caution. If Joan falls into the wrong hands now - Michael, no, please, don't! Michael!"

Raphael tried to stop him from leaving, but there was nothing the physician could do. Michael ran to his balcony and leapt off, unfolding his wings in his free fall. As he soared down, a chill took hold of his heart. He had felt this once before - a very long time ago. Hopefully, this time, he could still save the Archangel from going further down a path from which there was no return.
When Michael arrived at the catacombs, he sent the sentries away. He examined Gabriël's empty cell, hoping to find a clue about where Joan had taken him. According to the guards, the entrance to the catacombs had still been locked when Raphael found them. If they had tried to leave through those doors, Michael would have seen them from his balcony, or Catherine and Margaret would have found them when they were searching the grounds.

Michael stepped back into the corridor, frustrated at finding nothing in the cell. He had underestimated Joan. A costly mistake that he would correct as soon as he found her.
He heard a rustle at the end of the corridor and watched several leaves flutter to the ground. The draught from the open entrance must have made them move.

Strange for leaves to be this far inside the corridor, he thought. He then noticed a leaf stuck between two stones in the wall. Of course, the escape tunnels!

Michael had entirely forgotten about them. They had been constructed as a way out in case the Vale was ever under attack. But how could Joan know which tunnel to take? They formed a maze, designed with safe passageways but also with traps and dead ends. Only the Archangels knew the safest route that led outside the Vale's borders.

Gabriël... You told her. Oh, you stupid fool!

He ran out of the corridor, up the steps and out the doors. The maps of the maze were kept in the war room. It had been years since he had last seen them, but he knew Gabriël often studied them, having been appointed a guide should an escape be required.
If he could find out which ones Gabriël and Joan had taken, he might get to them before they made their escape through an alternate route. If not, then his most beloved friend would be lost to him.
Again.