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Abel’s father would absolutely bitch if he saw his son’s posture. With his slumped shoulders and drooped eyelids, it was no wonder Saint Peter had taken one look at him and asked if he had pulled a bender. He hadn’t, for the record, though he was tempted to.
Abel swallowed as he rubbed his thumb along his knuckles, staring blankly at an empty space in his living room. He had decided against his usual shako and white robes, instead opting for his comfort outfit of a pastel pink hoodie and comfortable white jeans. His light yellow wings had probably been over-preened at this point, if the feathers littering his floors were anything to go by. Luckily the accidental plucking hadn’t left visible bald spots, unless you were actively looking.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He needed to get this over with. He reached over to the table, grabbing the open notebook on it. He silently read over his notes one more time, mouthing them carefully and tugging a lock of blonde hair out of his face. He nodded once he was done, setting the notebook aside again and raising an arm out, doing his best to clear his mind of everything aside from the coordinates he found a while back.
“Hoc loto peto,” he chanted, his voice carefully clear and steady. “Oro ut mihi auxilium inveniam et tuto perveniam.”
A flicker of light appeared in his living room, a white, glowing portal opening up.
“Locus sanctus est,” Abel continued, his wings stretched out, “oru salutem. Sit hoc accurate.”
Flashes of a deep red color swirled around in this portal, darkening it.
“Amen.” Abel lowered his arm, wings folding against his back. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly through his mouth.
“No time like the present,” he told himself quietly, stepping towards the portal carefully, rolling his shoulders back a few times in an effort to get his feathers to stop twitching.
The admittedly cobbled-together portal was different from the smoother portals angels like Emily the Seraphim or Saint Peter could create, this one sending slight static along his arms and feathers, with a small buzzing in his ears. It was over in a matter of seconds, though Abel couldn’t decide if he wanted it to last longer. The portal closed behind him as he looked around, smoothing his puffed feathers down with his hands.
He was standing on the small wooden porch of a cabin, the grainy planks simple and dark. The railings had some small garden window boxes with dead plants. Looking closer, Abel could see that some planters had red soil, and some had mulch. Some seeming freshly watered, some looking pretty dry. Clearly, the resident of this cabin did his best to care for them, despite their poor condition. Abel looked past the porch railings, out into the forest of dark trees with red leaves. There was a gravel road leading away from the house and through the trees, though no other sign of civilization.
Abel walked to the end of the porch, stepping to the first step and peering at the driveway. There was a small green car there; hopefully that meant that the resident was home. Abel looked up at the red sky, a pentagram peaking through the treetops.
He sighed, turning back to the porch and going back up the steps, the wood creaking under his shoes. The door to the cabin itself was to the left, a square window parallel to the porch steps with a blue curtain drawn. Abel breathed evenly, taking in the forest scents of wood and leaf litter. A soft breeze brushing against his clothes. It was warm out, but not an unpleasant heat; he didn’t regret wearing long sleeves and pants.
“…and now I’m just stalling again,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair again. “It’s gonna be fucking midnight before I actually knock on that fucking door.”
He took another breath, walking towards the door and raising a fist to knock, faltering at the last second.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He knocked on the door four times, stepping back a bit and listening for anything from inside the cabin. His ears perked up at the sounds of footsteps and creaking wood, the door making a clicking sound before the handle twisted, the door opening into the cabin.
The resident stared at Abel, his yellow eyes widening to show off the red sclera. “Abel?”
The angel swallowed again, feathers twitching. “Hey, Cain. Wassup, bro?”
Cain stared blankly at the finger guns Abel pointed at him. “What the f-”
————
Cain sat at his table across from his younger brother, who was fidgeting awkwardly. The angel had given up on half-assed small talk after Cain shot each attempt down. He had offered a drink, though the angel declined.
Abel looked almost exactly the same as he had when he was alive. His hair was still blonde, though clearly the modern privileges of being able to shampoo and cut evenly with scissors were taken advantage of. His eyes were now a pale yellow without pupils instead of the warm brown before, but he still had white sclera. He was more filled out then he was while alive; having access to foods other than crops and sheep meat would do that, though he wore the weight well. Aside from his unique eye color, the pale gold wings on his shoulder blades and the gentle glow of his halo were the largest difference, a clear sign of how clean and pure his soul was.
Cain, on the other hand, was well aware of how differently he himself looked as opposed to when he was alive. His ‘hair’ was still the same dark color, albite longer in a low ponytail, but it was thick and coarse, resembling wolf fur that matched his soft, pointed ears and the shaggy tail on his lower back. Opposed to Abel’s halo, Cain had thick ram horns on the sides of his head, curving towards his face. Where his feet were, he had the cloven hooves of the sheep his little brother would tend to.
Where one brother kept the more human appearance, the other had an animalistic look about him. In Cain’s opinion, it was fitting.
“Why are you here?” Cain finally asked. Abel blinked, sitting up from his slouch.
“Oh, that, uh…” He gave an awkward laugh. “I-I just figured, you know; you deserve to be kept in the loop,” Abel vaguely waved a hand in a circle, “and uh, just-”
“Abel,” the Sinner cut in, giving the other a pointed look. “Just spit it out. I’m not gonna…” He breathed in and out. “I won’t hurt you again,” he finished softly, staring at the round knots in the table.
“Oh, no no no, I’m not worried about that!” Abel waved his hands frantically. “Nooooot what I was thinking about, I know you wouldn’t- That was eons ago, I know-” This time Abel cut himself off, swallowing and shifting in his chair. “I just…” He trailed off, staring at the table with an unreadable expression. “Dad’s dead,” he finally said. “He died around two weeks ago.”
“Yeah?” Cain nodded along, looking at his brother expectantly.
Abel blinked at him. “Oh, you knew already?”
Cain raised an eyebrow, slowly pointing to the modest radio sitting on a small table standing against the wall on the other side of the room. “I have access to the news, Abel,” he said flatly. “There are also newspapers. Television things are also getting more popular, but I can never figure the damn things out.” He shrugged.
Abel nodded smiling awkwardly. “Ah, yeah. That-that makes sense.” He ran a hand through his messy hair in a practiced motion. “I just- Well, just in case you DIDN’T know, now you do, so…” He shrugged helplessly.
“…thanks for thinking of me,” Cain offered.
“I almost always think about you,” Abel replied, finally meeting his older brother’s eyes. “You’re still my brother.”
The Sinner didn’t respond, simply looking down at his clawed hands.
The two were silent for a while.
“I didn’t know about the Exterminations until recently,” Abel brought up. “Only a few people knew about it. Not even Emily knew about it; and she and Sera the Head Seraphim are equals.”
“Oh yeah?” Cain replied.
“Yeah.” The angel swallowed. “It-it was… scary. Knowing what Dad and the Exorcists were up to every year. I knew about them going down, but…” Abel looked up at Cain. “When I heard, I was… scared,” he admitted. “I was worried that maybe they got you.”
The Sinner shook his head. “You know how after I killed you, God marked me and made it so nobody could ever kill me? Turns out it still holds up after I died naturally. I…” He hesitated, shaking his head and pushing on. “I admittedly got tired, after a while. A few… I don’t know, decades, centuries after the Exterminations started? I got tired, figured I’ve experienced everything and it was ok to just be done.”
Abel stayed silent during the admission. Cain couldn’t tell if he was surprised or not.
“Turns out, the whole ‘you can’t be killed thing’ holds up even in the afterlife,” he finished with a shrug. “I managed to get a small knife made outta angelic steel that was harvested after Exterminations.” He tugged a sleeve up to reveal various scars along his wrist and up his arm. “Tried to end it a couple of times, but clearly didn’t work. I don’t have that knife anymore; sold it a while back. Figured there’s no point in keeping something that didn’t work.” He pulled his sleeve back down.
Abel’s gaze lingered on Cain’s arm, even though the scars weren’t visible anymore.
“Abel.”
The younger brother looked up, blinking his wet eyes slowly. Cain sighed.
“Aw hell, I shouldn’t have said that stuff. I guess I need to get out more; instead of dumping old issues onto the little brother I haven’t seen in centuries.” He rubbed a thumb along his knuckles.
Abel was silent for maybe a minute before speaking up again. “If you ever decide that you’ve suffered enough, there’s a place run by that princess, Charlotte Morningstar. Maybe you’ve heard of it.”
“What, the Hazbin Hotel? Yeah; the Radio Demon is the manager of that place, sometime advertises it on his show.”
Abel nodded, running some fingers through his wings. “I’m not supposed to say anything,” he said slowly, “and these might just be rumors, but Saint Peter and I have heard things about a demon showing up in Heaven. There’ll be a trial in a few weeks, but from what I’ve heard? He’s a reformed soul. A Sinner turned Winner.”
Cain blinked hard, staring at him. “Wait; are you saying-”
“I’m not saying anything,” Abel said quickly. “Buuuut… If it turns out the rumors are true, there’s a chance that you could get into Heaven. If you wanted.”
The Sinner stared at his brother, not knowing how to react.
“I could be wrong,” Abel said quickly. “I really might be totally wrong; and if I am, don’t worry about it; I’ll just-”
“Fucking Christ, you ramble a lot.” Cain leaned back, picking at his claws. “…I’ll think about it.”
Abel nodded. “That’s all I can ask. And for the record; it would be pretty cool to see you more often. This is, what, the second time since I died?” He smiled.
Cain blinked, surprised that that sentence didn’t fill his vision of Abel’s head covered in blood. “Yeah.”
Abel nodded, glancing over at a clock. “I should get going. I’m not exactly here… legally; it’d be a bitch and a half to explain how I got down here.”
Cain nodded. “Yeah, alright.” He stood up from his chair, holding a hand out to the angel.
The blonde smile, reaching out to take the furry, clawed hand in his humanoid one and standing up. Then he smirked, pulling Cain into a tight hug.
The older froze, hands hovering around the golden wings.
“I forgive you, Cain,” Abel said firmly, before letting go and heading for the front door, looking back with an easy smile. “See ya around, bro!”
Cain stared at the door as Abel closed it behind him, still feeling the warm hug.
After a few minutes of standing there, he took a deep breath, wiping the tears off his cheeks and heading to the basket where he kept this months papers. Time to find everything he could on the Hazbin Hotel.