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If anyone had told Abner that he would eventually befriend Gadreel, Heaven’s biggest and most disastrous mistake, he would have laughed and dismissed them, brushing their words off as blasphemous nonsense. But situations changed, people changed, and sometimes the people you once turned away from in contempt end up being the only ones you have to turn to.
When Abner first met Gadreel he was cautious. Looking back, that may have been a bit hypocritical. He didn’t see it that way at the time.
He was a prisoner, yes. He was petulant, perhaps even disobedient, but he was not a traitor. He had been petty and childish when he’d wandered away from his post. But he had never done any of the things these… abominations had done. Betrayal, corruption, murder… his crimes paled in comparison. He wasn’t like them.
When they led him to his cell and introduced him to the angel who would become his new roommate, his blood ran cold. He’d heard stories of the angel who had conspired with Lucifer to corrupt humankind. Horrible stories. He didn’t know whether to stare or to avoid looking altogether. Gadreel was hard to ignore though, especially when he was watching him with that look in his eyes that Abner couldn’t quite place. It was unnerving, to say the least, knowing that the angel responsible for evil on earth had taken an interest in him.
Then he’d met Thaddeus.
He hadn’t paid much attention to the other angel at first. He’d thought he was just another guard, put there to keep the prisoners in line. Nothing he had to worry about.
He quickly learned just how wrong he was.
Thaddeus was far worse than anything he had ever faced in his life. Abner was a guard, trained to be strong in the face of all adversaries. But under Thaddeus’ harsh barrage of both blades and words he found himself slowly cracking more and more until he broke completely. Kneeling on the ground by the feet of a very smug, satisfied angel.
He was thrown back into his cell battered, bruised, and barely breathing. He was so dazed from the pain he almost didn’t notice the sound of someone shifting in the next cell over, shuffling closer to his own.
Gadreel.
Abner tried to move back, to pull himself as far away from the other cell as he could, but he couldn’t move. Not after what Thaddeus had done to him.
"Go away," he muttered weakly, panic rising when Gadreel reached towards him.
"Do not move," was the only reply.
Instantly Abner felt a surge of strength, of relief, wash through him. Gadreel was healing him. The angel couldn’t have had much more grace than Abner himself and yet there he was, pushing what little he had into Abner’s broken bones.
He heard a small thud as Gadreel fell back, his grace exhausted. Abner gave no thanks, still waiting in shocked suspicion for a trick or punchline. But Gadreel asked for nothing, giving only a tired smile before slumping against the edge of his own cell.
"Why?" Abner asked a while — minutes? Days? How did one keep track of time when there was nothing around to count? — later, when he felt Gadreel’s grace sweep against his. Like the other angel was poking gently at him to make sure he was okay. "Why did you heal me?"
"You were hurt."
It was such a simple answer, as though that was all the reason he needed. Abner didn’t know whether to be reassured or skeptical at the naivety in Gadreel’s tone.
"Why do you care?" Abner scoffed, wishing he could see Gadreel enough to read his expression. "You are a traitor. A criminal."
"As are you," he pointed out in that same simple tone.
His instinctive response was to get offended, to argue. I am most certainly not a traitor, he almost insisted. Yes, he was locked up with the other traitors. But that was only because they thought he was one. Just because they were treating him like he was a criminal didn’t mean that he was.
Understanding came crashing around him like a powerful wave crashing to the shore, washing away the things he thought he knew. He was left gaping silently at the wall that blocked the other angel’s smile from his view.
Abner paid more attention to Gadreel after that.
It didn’t take long for him to realize that the serene, ancient being in the cell over was nothing like the Gadreel of legend. He was soft, gentle. But still strong in a warm, protective way.
He also learned why Gadreel always eyed him so carefully. He’d been selfish to think it was anything to do with him specifically. Gadreel gave the same look to every angel he laid eyes on, even most of the guards. He learned that those looks were the natural guardian in him studying his siblings carefully, instinctively checking to ensure they were alright.
Watching Gadreel, and listening to him on the rare occasion the elder angel actually spoke, made Abner realize just how young he was. This creature knew the world in ways he couldn’t hope to understand.
For a while that was all he knew of Gadreel: that he was old, gentle, and wise.
Until the first time Gadreel was taken to Thaddeus.
While the ancient angel didn’t scream nearly as much as he had, Abner learned he also wasn’t nearly as invincible as he’d seemed. Gadreel screamed and hissed and gasped just like anyone else. And when the guards decided he was done and threw him back into his cell, he’d curled into himself and cried; soft, barely audible whimpers echoing through the empty stone dungeon. The wise, peaceful angel he’d thought was untouched by the darkness around them, untouchable even, was crying.
That was when Abner realized that for all the other angel’s years of experience, for all his optimism and forced smiles, Gadreel was just as lost and afraid and broken as he was. More so, even.
It was Abner who reached out this time. Placing a hand softly on the wall connecting him to the angel who was both vastly older and far younger than he, wishing he could reach the angel himself.
"Are you alright, Gadreel?"
It was a stupid question and Abner regretted it the moment it passed his lips. Before he could say any more, clarify on the meaning of his question, Gadreel’s sobs stopped. At first Abner feared he had offended — or possibly frightened — the other angel off with either his intrusiveness or his stupidity. Until a small, still slightly choked voice answered back.
"Do not worry about me, Abner. I will be fine."
That’s when Abner learned that Gadreel knew his name. Knew all their names, each and every prisoner who had come and gone from these cells.
It was also then that he realized that Gadreel was more than just strong, gentle, and wise. Above all else, Gadreel was lonely. He wanted a companion, someone to talk to, to care about. Someone to protect.
He wanted a friend.
Whether it was for himself or for the angel who still remembered kindness even after receiving none for so long, Abner came to fill this position.