Chapter Text
The beginning of all colors, white, surrounded him as he lie motionless on what he believed to be the ground.Cheeks dry with tear tracks, face flushed with many emotions, and a steady thumping heart told him he had been crying for quite some time but yet, He could not remember why.There was something dire he needed to remember, something that could regain his humanity, but what in hell's fire could of been that important? And if so, Why did he forget such an important task? He could remember angels though; Their horrible monstrous faces begging both He and another for help against the prince of evil himself. He remembered being terrified, So scared he had been brought to tears, but he was thankful that he was there; That his dear friend was there to help make his choice.
Jonathan, over many days, had slowly begun to forget the faces of his dear friends one by one. Even those closest to him: Walter, Isabeau, and Flynn, Soon became after images in his head. Only the faintest of colors remained visible behind his eyelids in his white hot inferno of what only he could deduce as Merkabah's 'Heaven'. For him, Flynn had faded first; His white scarf too much like his prison and his mind simply wouldn't have it. Isabeau was next, Her scarf and eyes scarlet like the blood of innocents that Merkabah had slaughtered (Their blood too tainted with sin). Walter was that perfect tragedy in his life, as sickeningly sweet as it sounded, And his beautiful sapphire was tainted with too much greed and sin to continue existing in 'Heaven'.Even his own yellow soon faded from his own sight; He undoubtedly knew the color still existed in that world but it was simply too cold and blinding to continue.Their voices remained ever present, The hellish spawn of the lord's angel made sure of that; Merkahbah made sure to keep him aware of the hell around them for every now and then he could hear Flynn's calm voice saying something he couldn't quite make out.
A question that was so ever present in his mind was : If you could take it all back, Would you? Many times he thought this over and each time he came to his final conclusion, His demonic self proposed angelic savior would stop his train of thought; Sending him back into his comatose state.But now, Now he could remember everything. Perhaps Merkabah knew this fact and who's to say they wouldn't beg Jonathan to never regain his will, beg him to stay a mindless soul who wouldn't know how to stand for themself. Jonathan would speak an stand independently of that filth, He would tell that lying sin of a beast he wanted to breathe Mikado's fresh spring air.
Almost if Merkabah had heard his rebellious thoughts, Jonathan had begun to feel his eyelids tease at sleep. Sleep once more child of god; You need rest. Each one of Merkabah's calming words sounded like his own; That beast was using his voice, His voice to command and slaughter his comrades. He felt very ill at those words, one so sweet sounding should not belong to an angel but a seductive devil trying to pull in their prey.In his eyes that angelic being that promised to save both he and his friends along with the lives within Mikado was no longer a servant of god, Merkabah was a being from the deepest ring of Lucifer's inferno.Child. The voice sounded demanding, Almost as if Merkabah was threatening Jonathan.
With a sick feeling, Jonathan had covered his mouth to prevent any accidents even though he had no cares and wouldn't mind soiling Merkabah's prefect white heaven.Opening his mouth from behind his hand his vocal cords had silenced themselves or more than likely, Merkabah had forced silence upon him."H-He..." His voice came out in an almost broken manner, Clear that his voice hadn't been used in almost, what he felt like in years but in reality had only been hours."H-Here...t-tic..." Each breath seemed harder on his lungs and he was certain the heathen was behind this; Merkabah was silencing him, trying to block out the truth."You...Merkabah, A-Are a h-heret-"
"Do not refer to me as such a foul name. Child of the lord, You as many people have, have referred to me as many things. A heathen, succubus of holy temptation, filth, but a heretic is one I am not. My words are one with the lords, Angels are YHVH's swords and shields, ready to cleanse the filth and sin on his holy land."
"Heretic..." Jonathan whispered.
"Watch your tongue sinner. You are lucky that I, The lord chariot, have chosen you as my vessel."
"I am no longer a vessel." Even though sickness churned in his belly quite heavily he forced himself to stand, A new pain burned at his legs and muscles screamed for him to lie back upon his prison once more."You, who have said nothing but lies, promised those who devoted their whole lives to you that they would receive salvation. Sister Gabby, Gabriel, was simply a pawn in your plans to achieve a full cleanse."
"You act as if you, one who was raised in filth, does not know of it's true ways? Even your 'friend', The scarlet concubine, betrayed her own belief by gazing upon hell's filth."
That word, Concubine, what exactly had the angel tired to label Isabeau as? A woman of filth; No better than a whore.Anger replaced the emptiness in his hollow sickened belly, feeling the rage bubble into his chest he curled his hand into a fist. Nails poking at such soft skin had resulted in the crimson fluid to stain the void around him, dying his world in red.Jonathan was furious,"How dare you!" Wrath was not a sin he had been familiar with, or more it's commonly known brother pure rage. Perhaps Merkabah was right, Perhaps he was guilty of sin."Do you not care? Are you un-aware of how much blood is tainting your heaven? A world cannot exist without sin, Sin and holiness are two halves to one whole! The lord of sin himself was one a sword for the lord!"
"Lucifer fell; A fallen angel is a betrayer of YHVH."
"Humans were created with the lord's image in hand." Jonathan had ignored Merkabah's words for he knew the angel would try everything possible to keep his point superior."If he wanted us to remain holy we, as a race, would be angels. Isabeau, Walter, Flynn, and Myself are guilty of the sins of humanity; A free mind to think and breathe as we may." As he went on he found himself gazing at color; He could now see the familiar navy of his coat, the comforting gold of his scarf, and the reassuring brown of his hair. Merkabah was loosing control of his mind, He was becoming 'human' again. Bright red clung to his hand as he shifted his gaze to look at his self inflected injury, never had he thought in all of his life that blood would be so bright and great to see. Blood, a sigh of dwindling life or danger, was bringing him comfort for it was a sign that life still coursed in his veins; He was not yet a resident of heaven."Return to heaven with your heralds and let me return to the living. Humans are not holy nor sinful, Merkabah. We are all simply neutral."
A searing pain in his gut struck him hard sending him crashing to the ground. Was this something of Merkabah's doing? No, The pain was just simply too real. Both hands shot to cover his mouth when the taste of iron danced on his tongue. Blood..The crimson fluid filled his mouth and spilled from the corner of his tightly pressed lips, running a trail from them to his chin creating a new puddle beneath him. Once more a sharp pain, what felt as if a demon had impaled him, shot through his gut sending another tremor of pain through him.This tremor caused more blood to force it's way up his throat and only caused him more discomfort. Why was he vomiting blood? He had experienced no injuries the he knew of only pain.
Vision blurring, Jonathan just watched in a daze as a familiar yet unknown figure moved in front of his eyes. It's body was navy with black hair dancing behind it but yet, It did not truly stand out against the world of fleeting color. The white void was returning and swallowing up everything but that figure; Something was warm about it, maybe in the way it moved was why it was warm and familiar.His lungs struggled hard for oxygen as his mind had started to fade; He had to remember who that was, It was so easy for him to remember the names so why couldn't he pin-point who graceful being was? Just as his eyes had started to close a hand reached out to him, or he thought was reaching to him, and in the blurring world he seemed to be slapped. Images of a stoic but nervous boy clicked in his head, He was there with that boy as he smiled a greeted him and the boy said a name, his name. His name. What was his name?! Everything clicked for Jonathan before he gathered the energy to speak, his weak body lying once more on it's prison, had gathered the energy to save him. "Flynn...please...bring me to Walter..." But he did not call for help, He called for both Flynn and the man who had pinched every last nerve in his body, "I...I want...to apologize...I'm so sorry..."