here for a minute, then you're gone (cassiel)

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Every fiber in his body urged him to grab a scalpel and call it a day for Katya. Not when he was on-duty though. He figured that he would have difficulty with explaining the ends that he'd have to go to if he wanted to kill the demon. Through his teeth, he asked her, "Are you hurt?" Dumb question, he knew. She was a demon, and her human shell would mend itself quickly. He had to follow up with procedure though.

Cassiel followed Katya's eyes to the smoldering wreckage, reduced to a heap of blackened metal. "He was already gone when we arrived," he said in a low voice as his fingers curled around the cardboard box. In reality, the cigarettes would do no harm, but he'd found that the smoke was something awful to choke on. He tossed them back at her, as if to offer a temporary ceasefire. It did take an unimaginable effort to remain civil in public though. One day, some other time, they would be alone for it.

The man was already lingering between life and death when he'd arrived, lost too much blood from the crash. He'd seen it as he checked the man's vitals, the way the car had skidded around a corner, smashed into a building, and crumpled like an accordion. How ironic that when he could act, the opportunities for those moments were lost.

He glanced at Katya's lips as she spoke. "Is that so?" he breathed.

Because he had seen plenty of these crashes before, and he had a strong feeling that Katya had witnessed these grisly scenes in the past as well. There was one that he remembered particularly well, just as much smoke rising from the inferno, stench of gasoline thick in the air. He couldn't recall which was stronger that night, the metallic blood or the black smoke. He did remember which one was thicker on his gloved hands that evening, tying tourniquet after tourniquet, pressing hands against open wounds. He knew he could do it, should do it, but would not because there had been no final "do".

Cassiel's eyes narrowed at the demon as his voice dropped dangerously. "Leave."

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There was no need for Cassiel to carry band-aids with him, because most accidents that he was called to required much more to patch them up than a little piece of adhesive plastic and a gauze pad. "Find one yourself then," he muttered under his breath. Cassiel had intended on being courteous, but that plan wasn't going over very well. Instead, he watched Katya out of the corner of an eye as she continued to run her mouth.

In truth, Cassiel did not want to lose touch with Katya either. The moment he lost track of her, she'd be off raising hell. But that was not the greatest reason that he always wanted to make sure that he knew where she was. If he could speak with her, he could change her mind. He really did hope to reason with a demon. The other Watchers thought he was absurd, but there was still a soul attached to Katya, one that he hoped he could probe and maybe settle her mind. Somewhere inside the demon, there was the college student whose last memory was Cassiel's torn expression.

He lowered his eyes to the ground as Katya continued. The grisly scene was quite in the norm for him. He wasn't physically exhausted, but brushing shoulders with Katya had been emotionally draining for him. Cassiel kept his hands clenched at his sides to avoid coming into physical contact with the demon. He wanted to avoid detrimental damage to his conscience for as long as possible. Katya wasn't making it easy. He wanted to grab her by the shoulder and demand she leave or express how sorry he was, but a simple apology was not going to rewrite the past. He could kill her too, but that would only eat away at his mind.

"Ask away," he answered stiffly, though he was almost certain that he would regret those two words.

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He thought it might have hurt, but oftentimes, Cassiel wondered if those emotions were even genuine. He knew compassion, yes, and now, he had not a doubt in his mind that pain was something that he could feel as well. The seraph methodically clenched and unclenched his left hand. "I feel pain, yes," he responded honestly. The demoness would be able to tell, immediately, if he was lying to her. It was better to speak the truth.

After all, while Seraphiel was the Angel of Silence and chief of the seraphim, Cassiel was the Angel of Solitude and Tears.

His eyes narrowed, but not accusingly. If anything, he blamed himself. "Do you resent me because I could not save you?"