Return of the Disgraced Archangel

Argument

      The Argo II soared through the air, on its way to Delos. Percy was in his cabin, laying on his side on the floor. He and Leo had just gotten back from Sparta and he felt strange. The word came to his mind, exhausted. He was tired. This was stupid. His wife was dead, his daughter was kidnapped, and he's being forced to travel around the globe with a bunch of teenagers because Zeus didn't want to let him meddle in Greek affairs.

     It wasn't even all Greek affairs anymore. Not since Gaia kidnapped Rory and started to outfit her soldiers with her feathers as wings. His exhaustion turned to rage. Red, hot, burning rage in his chest. He stood up and started to pace the room. Until he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that hung on the door. Half of his face was covered in scratchy red skin, like an angry scab. His eyes were glowing red.

     He forced himself to calm. His red skin slowly shrunk until all that was left was his regular tan skin that he chose to have. That was something he noticed had become better. With Zoë gone, he was more prone to anger. And something he had come to realize, was that while Zoë would always be with him, she wouldn't always be with him. And if he was nothing but an angry man when she was off doing whatever, then why would she want to be around him in the first place?

     So whenever he noticed himself getting angry, he tried to calm down. The pile of splintered wood in the corner suggested that he wasn't able to every time though.

     A knock sounded on his door. He opened it to see Amenadiel standing there. It wasn't the first time his brother had visited on this journey, but he was still surprised to see him. "We need to talk." The angel said.

     "About what?"

      "Just follow me."

      Amenadiel turned, leaving Percy confused. He followed after his brother. He led him through the hallway and up onto the deck, to the prow of the ship. They passed a couple of the seven, and Percy noticed that they were barely moving. Time had slowed.

     They watched the land below them for a couple of minutes, until Amenadiel turned and faced Percy. "Are you alright, brother?"

     Percy started to laugh. "I'm completely fine, Amenadiel!" He said, a British accident suddenly entering his voice. "Is that what you wanted to talk about?"

     "Don't lie, Luci. You're not one to lie on the ground for hours. Something is obviously up."

     "Have you been spying on me?"

     "I've been watching, yes."

     "Creep."

     Amenadiel rolled his eyes. "I'm worried about you." He poked Percy in the chest. "I just want to know if you're okay."

     Percy kept his eyes on the horizon below them. "Am I okay." He muttered. "No, Amenadiel." He turned to his brother. "I'm not okay. My daughter has been kidnapped, my wife is dead, and I'm stuck on a boat because of some stupid pagans!" He slammed a fist on the railing. "We both know that I could have just flown over there, beat Gaia's stupid ass, and been done in a couple of hours.

     "But instead, it's been weeks, and I've had to watch my wife die, knowing that my daughter has been tortured so that could even happen! And now, I no longer have wings, confining me to the status of a mortal. Not to mention the fact that the rest of these people think that I'm evil incarnate, because they don't like the way I freed Frank from his curse. They're all scared of me. And maybe they should be, I mean, I did kill my own twin brother."

     "Michael was not your fault."

      "Wasn't it? I drove my blade—" he pulled out Riptide from his pocket and held the pen up. "—this blade, into his chest. I erased him from reality. No reformation, no returning, gone forever."

     "He started the fight. You ended it, that's all."

     "But I shouldn't have killed him."

     Amenadiel let that hang in the air.

     "This is my repentance, isn't it? Dad's punishing me." Percy muttered.

     "Dad is not punishing you."

     "Isn't he? It's pretty par for the course. And it's not like he'd be in the wrong for doing it."

     "Okay, I see what's happening." Amenadiel said. "You think you deserve to be punished for killing Michael. Despite the dude being an absolute asshole, you think you're in the wrong for thwarting his plan to overthrow Dad. Well here, I have a punishment for you. Your daughter was kidnapped and your wife was killed. That's your penance. Now fix it, and consider yourself forgiven."

      "You can't just—"

     "I can, and did. You have your punishment, now serve it and stop this pity party." Amenadiel turned and took a step away from Percy, before turning his head back. "Oh, and use that feather we both know you have in your jacket pocket. It's not doing you any good there."

     Amenadiel spread his wings and disappeared into the air, time resuming to its normal flow. Percy turned back to look at the land below them. He sighed and reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the long white feather. He twirled it in between his fingers as he pondered Amendaiel's words. He stuck the quill of the feather in his mouth, between his teeth, like a farmer does with wheat in the movies.

     He took his suit jacket off and laid it over the railing. He proceeded to roll up his sleeve, exposing his tan forearm. He reached into his pocket and pulled out Riptide, before uncapping it, the sword appearing in his hand.

     He took a deep breath and cut his wrist. He grit his teeth and took the feather out of his mouth. He laid it over the cut. The white feather began to change colors, becoming red with his blood. Then a golden glow began to emanate from the feather. It shone brighter, before traveling up his arm, revealing the cut on his lower forearm had been healed. The golden glow began to shine on his back.

     A familiar weight appeared on his back. He straightened his posture. The glow disappeared, and his wings were once again on his back. Percy rolled his sleeve back down and put his jacket back on. He stretched his wings and let out a sigh of relief, like all the tension had vanished.

     'I'm done feeling bad for myself,' he thought.

      They were approaching Delos, and he had business to take care of there.

A/N. A shorter chapter, one to bridge between the events of the last one and the next one. I had an argument planned between the brothers for a while, but I forgot most of its contents since then, so now we're stuck with this mediocre one, so sorry. I hope it still does its job.

Also, I hope the two paragraphs of Percy talking didn't throw you off. It's something a lot of books do if a character is ranting, and they show it by not having a closing dialogue tag on the first paragraph. So no, it wasn't a mistake. 

Thoughts?