More AsmodeusRaphael slash, the Bible still isn't mine, and flames will be viciously dissected and laughed at by my friends and me. I think that covers everything.
Asmodeus tripped, stumbling down a small grassy hill and landing beside the road that led into Bethlehem. This was soooooo stupid! According to rumors, Raphael was coming to Earth, specifically Bethlehem. All too eagerly, Asmodeus had come as well, hoping to torment his would-be prize and perhaps finally capture that which still lingered sweetly on his thoughts the way nectar lingers on the tongue.
However, to his surprise, the arch demon found not Raphael but Michael! Clearly he'd gotten the wrong information, but before he could make his escape, the angel caught onto his presence. The fight that ensued was brief but intense. Even taking his human form had not saved Asmodeus. The abhorrent, holy sword Michael wielded had sliced into his arm, gashing it open, red and raw. He'd just barely gotten away. And since that damned sword had injured him, he was trapped in human form without even the use of his shadow powers. It could not get any worse!
"Sir!" someone called. "Are you alright?"
Asmodeus whirled around in shock. So the rumors were true after all… Standing before him was the familiar human form of the archangel Raphael. The holy being held a walking stick in one hand and was wearing a dusty traveling over his drab mortal clothes. He stopped short though and shivered as though chilled. Asmodeus groaned inwardly, realizing the healer still sensed his muted powers.
He cringed involuntarily as Raphael's own power ghosted across him, reading his aura, but the angel did not sense the dark magic writhing passionately within Asmodeus's being. This was a testament to the skill of his illusion—and Lucifer's instruction. It had been the Prince of Darkness himself who had shown Asmodeus the art of passing as a mortal! Of course, Raphael couldn't tell the difference! Neither could Michael!
Or so he'd thought.
Raphael's eyes widened, and he gripped his walking stick like a staff. "Demon!" he accused. "What are you doing here!"
Fucking shit, Asmodeus cursed silently. Thinking fast, he held his hands out pleadingly, pretending to cower in utter terror. "Oh, please, Great Angel, do not harm me! I am but a lowly emissary!" he lied, realizing that Raphael did not recognize him.
Raphael narrowed his eyes suspiciously, not trusting Asmodeus even though he had no idea who the demon was. "Who's emissary?" he asked calmly. "Tell me at once."
"As-smodeus, your Grace," he answered, adding the stammer for effect. He was quite pleased with how convincing he sounded.
Raphael sucked in a breath of air. "I should've known…" he muttered. "What business does…does he have here?"
Asmodeus suppressed a cackle and a delighted smile to see that Raphael couldn't even bear to speak his name. "To investigate the presence of the Archangel Michael in a place of his continued interest. You've met my Master, haven't you?" he asked slyly, unable to deny his wicked heritage. "Asmodeus?" he added coyly as if Raphael hadn't already known who he was referring too.
"Unfortunately." The healer's voice was serene yet displeased and not nearly as ruffled as Asmodeus had hoped. "I should just let Michael deal with you…"
Realizing that perhaps he'd gone too far, the demon hastily backtracked a bit. "Oh, please," he begged, shedding his cloak and clutching Raphael's robes in a most piteous fashion. "Please do not reveal me to him! Not again!"
"Again?" the healer echoed, surprised etched on his fair features. Then he caught site of the gash in Asmodeus's arm which now visible without the cloak. Any misgivings immediately abandoned the angel's countenance. "You're hurt!" His voice radiated genuine concern now.
Asmodeus tensed slightly when Raphael knelt down beside him and gently took his wounded arm. Convincing Raphael to release him was one thing, but letting the angel mend him was entirely another. What if he found out who Asmodeus truly was? It would be a catastrophe! However, the demon was unable to utter more than a half formed refusal before a strange sensation washed over him.
It hurt slightly, the healing process. His flesh re-knitting itself was far from pleasant. Looking up, Asmodeus's brow furrowed with genuine fear as he watched Raphael's serene face. The angel's eyes were closed, but the demon worried—quite justifiably—that he would soon be discovered.
However, within a little over a minute the burning subsided, and Asmodeus found himself staring into Raphael's unsuspecting springtime eyes. Quickly he looked away lest his own garnet eyes reveal him.
Not bothering to comment on this sudden nervousness, Raphael merely released Asmodeus's arm. "Go in peace," he told the demon with the all the sincerity natural for an angel. Standing, Raphael added, "And I advise to actually go. Michael doesn't give up easily."
Asmodeus nodded wordlessly as the archangel disguised as a human walked off toward the town. For the first time in centuries, he was rendered completely and utterly speechless. Asmodeus stood, feeling fine but so confused. He wouldn't have possibly let Raphael go if their positions had been reversed…
That would never happen.