What Would You Choose?

“I… hate snow,” Grrbrool growled, pacing in front of the Library’s hearth. Heading down the stairs I could see Grr’s fur glinting in the firelight, his tail swishing angrily. The snow fell in a gentle drift outside the windows, powdering the night air. Severus stood grim as usual, not a pace away from Grr. “It’s wrong,” Grr continued, “And not in December neither, it should be HOT now…” He dropped to a crouch.

I walked over to him and leaned down to kiss the top of his head, lingering a bit as my lips touched his fur. “You’re in the wrong hemisphere for that, Beloved,” I smiled wryly. I rose and began stroking Grr’s fur absently, watching Severus turn away with disgust, as he was wont to do at any display of physical affection. “Severus,” I said after a moment.

The Incubus scowled and turned away to stare out the window. “What….” he uttered flatly.

“You and I... share a bond we didn't share before.” I was trying to choose my words carefully, watching his every move for a reaction. Severus had returned from Hell lost in an illusion of torment, new wounds reinforcing his perception that Lucifer had not let him go. Many had tried to help him back, but none had succeeded except to restore his body somewhat.

I’d been reluctant to try to help him at all, given my past failures, but try I did. I’d done something I rarely do. I’d pulsed into him, into his very being… not entirely with his consent due to his incapacitated state… and I’d seen something. I’d learned something about him no one else knew.

Severus shrugged his broad shoulders. “We share nothing,” he said dismissively. “You have something of mine, just as Lucifer does... to control me.”

Grr nodded slowly, his face still confused and his memories of his days as a soldier coloring all his responses. “Rank gives control… chain of Command runs both ways.”

That I had, as Severus had put it – something that belonged him – was a shocking realization to me. In my efforts within his broken psyche, I’d seen what Lucifer had placed within him. To my knowledge, this was something only one Other had ever seen. But I’d also learned something about Severus that no one else knew: I’d discovered his true name within him and used it to call him forth. I’d found after having done so that this required him to obey me.

I looked on impassively, not responding to Severus’s barb. “I’m not Lucifer... and Grrbrool is correct.”

“Orders and my name work just as well,” Severus snorted derisively.

“Affirmative,” Grr replied, not understanding Severus’ meaning. “ Ta live is ta serve… and ta serve, is ta live.”

Severus narrowed his pale eyes. “Perhaps for you, were-creature. I have never had a choice in the matter.”

“Serve or die, learn or die, fight or die,” Grr continued. For a moment, he no longer seemed lost in his own world. “I ain’t immortal… not a real good choice.”

I continued to study Severus, my eyes running down the wounds at his back, lingering over his broken wings. “What if you were given the choice, Maker? What would you do with it?”

“I would die as i should have long ago,” Severus said quietly, lowering his shadowed and haunted eyes. “l... I would seek oblivion. There’s nothing for me here....”

“There is no death, Maker,” I said. “You know there’s no true ending... not in the sense that you seek. Or do you wish your spirit to wink into nothingness as well as your body?” I asked.

Grr looked thoughtful. “You could go ta Oblivion's edge…. It’s a place, just a hop and boop, off ya go…”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Or you could drink Meng-Po's five flavored tea...and forget… if that is what you truly desire.”

“I don’t wish to exist any longer,” Severus spat. “I have no true purpose aside from Lucifer's compelling... and forgetting won’t solve anything aside from making me a slave to desire again... no doubt Lucifer would be pleased if I forgot what I once was,” he muttered bitterly. He lifted his hand to the air and, without a word, opened a portal and stepped through, a loud cracking noise following him as the portal closed.

“He's bonkers too… “ Grr said sadly.

From Here On

Joah sits quietly in her small room at the top of the stairs, contemplating the moon, as she so often does. Tonight, the moon is full, two weeks ‘til the new moon, two weeks ‘til GrrBrool shifts to his near-human form. She wants badly to bring him back to her before then, to heal the broken creature that walks like a ghost through her days. Her sense of guilt overwhelms her, knowing that it was her own vulnerability and longing for the void that opened the door within her to Pestilence. Had it not been for Lorne…for the bit of the Garden…

So long ago, the Garden, she thinks.

But while she’d been a vessel of conflict and longing, Omega had been seduced by Her own desires for power and had opened Herself willingly. Joah’s earlier quiet accusation had hung in the air; Omega had failed to protect Her House, had, in fact, been the breaking stone that had shattered Grrbrool’s will and crushed his spirit.

“I thought…I could best it, Joah....” Omega had said quietly, the memory of War still tracing a shadow on her smooth face. “I thought...the power…I thought I could use it, to advantage. There were factors…I did not consider.”

Factors like the twist in Denenthorn, like Severus’s injuries, the problem of Del, the Harbinger…and a crew of loyal but inexperienced Omegans: Rhaven, Zoe, Wire, Blake. Still in all, Faye’Li had remained constant, seeking help of the Coven, leading the Institute to safety in a time of turmoil when its leaders had fallen.

Joah shifts as she gazes, wrapping her quilt around her and looking to the moon as if it could answer the questions in her heart. In the end, she remembers Lorne kneeling beside her as blood soaked through her stockings and her dress, pooling on the floor. Though a bitter frown clouded His face, He still gave His hand to Denenthorn, His strength to Rhaven, while Meng Po had joined in, whispering, “Pestilence has nearly stolen everything from her.” Joah had opened herself to their healing, the bright, warm touch of Denenthorn’s hand on her forehead, the feeling of rushing back into herself as energy from the four poured into her. So much life…so much loss.

“What is past... is past,” Omega had said. “We must not mire ourselves in regret. This experience has taught us…much about ourselves. Let it be worth the price we have paid for such knowledge.”

Joah looks at the moon.

I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.

September 1, 1939
W.H. Auden