(no subject)

[theamazingdalet.livejournal.com]

balthazar does manage to drag himself out of bed the next day, if only to avoid being eventually disturbed when he’s not expecting it

cass is already in the kitchen, setting up a very nice breakfast. balthazar sits down and does try to eat. cass smiles at him but doesn’t say anything.

it’s uncomfortable as hell

partway through picking at his plate, balthazar puts his fork down and awkwardly lays his hands on the table

“you don’t know what it’s like,” he just kind of sighs, very softly

“i do”

once again, cass surprises him. balthazar thinks maybe he should be used to it, but he just slowly looks up, confused. cass is staring at his spoon, rolling it in his fingers

“we angels…” he starts, a little slowly, “we serve many purposes in the universe. we guard the souls in heaven, we’re messengers, we’re record keepers, we’re…whatever god ordains. but most of us…are warriors. i’m a soldier,” he looks up suddenly, and his point dawns of balthazar

“i’m a captain, actually,” cass continues. “i’ve led my garrison into battle alongside my siblings, too many times to count, and…inevitably…”

balthazar shifts in his seat, listening intently. cass stares at his fingers, drumming noiselessly on the table

“i’m not that old, as angels go, perhaps,” cass says. “i’m not sure how to calculate it in a single dimension, but i’m certainly older than the earth”

balthazar starts, rather taken back. cass just frowns slightly at his hand

“i’ve lost so many in that time,” he murmurs. “they were my responsibility, and i…”

“but–” balthazar snaps up in his seat, gesturing rapidly, “but heaven– you- can’t you see them, even after they’ve died?”

“paradise is for the souls of the dead,” cass looks up at him, smiling very, very sadly. “we don’t have souls. as god’s eldest children, we seem to…predate them”

his smile turns ever so slightly bitter before he looks away again. balthazar still stares; his heart hurts

it occurs to him that cass might actually envy him

“i’m so sorry,” is all balthazar can think to say, but he means it

“thank you”

they go back to pretending to eat, but balthazar can’t focus

now that he knows, now that he knows that cass knows, there’s one question he needs to ask

“do you ever think-” his voice cracks, unsteady, “that, that they might not want to see you again? because it was all your fault that they died?”

cass stares into his coffee

“all the time”

balthazar reaches across the table and gently takes his hand