Abaddon could sense the angel's displeasure at his words. He wasn't surprised in the slightest but still felt a slight twinge of shame. A nasty side effect of being around an angel for too long, he decided.

"Lucifer came to me one day. He took my hands and looked me straight in the eyes. There was this...fire in his eyes, an intensity that I wouldn't dare go against," He looked off to the side, something he did when reminiscing.

"Brother, he said. Brother, we are better than this. We are more than this. More than Him. Join me, Abaddon. We can rule."

Camael stared at Abaddon, allowing his words to bounce around her mind. She could very well imagine the scenario, how easily Abaddon had fallen in league with the bringer of evil himself. She attempted to put herself in his position. What would she have done when confronted with such temptation? No, she wouldn't think about it. Giving such ideas thought was to give them form, and she would never allow such a thing to happen.

She returned her attention to Abaddon and spoke, "But you didn't rule, did you?"

Abaddon smiled as he scoffed a laugh. "No, I didn't. As it turns out, Lucifer's offer was just of another form of servitude. But I didn't know that until we fell..."

He trailed off, falling silent for a few moments before continuing. "There were six of us. All powerful, all carefully chosen by Lucifer. Less powerful than he but not weak. I think he liked a challenge. When He found out, everything was thrown into disarray."

Abaddon glanced up at the ceiling, as if looking through it and catching the eyes of the Creator.

"You can't imagine what it is to fall. The pain is unbearable. Emotional and physical pain of the like. It's as if all of the suffering of His children is thrust upon you and you can hear a million cries, a million screams. They're like rusted hooks digging past your flesh and into your burning soul."

Camael frowned at his words. He was right, She couldn't imagine such terror. No, she'd never thought of the sufferings of the fallen even as she'd dealt the final blow to them. For her, they'd been nothing but mere traitors, blasphemers that deserved all that they got. If they fell, fast and hard, into the arms of Lucifer, then she'd give them a kick to boost their descent. No, she'd never imagined what it must be like to be them.

Looking at Abaddon, she wondered just how horrible it was. To believe that you could trust someone, only to find out thet they'd fed you lie after lie. It was the insult to the injury of having the pain of the entire world placed on your already aching shoulders.Camael shook her head, chastising herself for never once thinking of what it must be like to be in their shoes.

She averted her eyes as she asked, afraid that the mention of it might trigger something in the demon. But she had to know. "And your wings?"

Abaddon cringed slightly at Camael's question, though he knew it was only a matter of time before it was asked.

"After the fall, all of us were feeling broken. Regretful. The full weight of our actions had hit us," He glanced at the angel, pain in his eyes. "We were ready to beg forgiveness. But not Lucifer. Lucifer was...demented. He grabbed each angel by the throat and ripped their eings from their back. In place grew monstrosities."

Abaddon cleared his throat and continued in a near emotionless voice, like a victim recounting their story for the hundredth time. "He ripped my wings away. It wasn't a simple yank. They resisted until muscles tore and ligaments snapped. Bones cracked right in two. I screamed. I screamed so loudly and for so long, even the Creator must have heard."

"I was on my hands and knees, blood I didn't know I had pouring from my back. I knew, in that moment, what it must be like to die. Lucifer touched the remnants on my back and suddenly I was screaming again.
From my back grew what you glimpsed earlier; but they're much more alive than you think. They dug claws like needles into my spine and held on. They'd never let go."

Camael nodded. "Such cruelty is to be expected of him." She thought back to the sight of Abaddon's wings and how utterly painful it must have been. To learn that it was Lucifer who had been responsible, Camael felt a chill climb up her spine. Was that fear? By attempting to aid Abaddon in a path to salvation, she would be incurring the wrath of the devil himself. If he was capable of such cruelty, such a display of strength, did Camael stand a chance? Or would she be dragged down as well?

She shook away her thoughts. The light of the Creator would give her strength. She was sure of that. And now, being aware of all lf Lucifer's misdeeds, she needed to have the courage to fight. The courage to stand up to an adversity far more powerful than herself. She needed the courage to help a man who'd made a wrong choice. "Repent ye therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, when the times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the Lord," she recited. "I believe we must speak to the Creator."

Abaddon looked at Camael, unable to hide his surprise. "Speak to the Creator? How exactly would we go about that?"

He had no doubt that the angel had the ability to communicate with Him but had no idea how it would be possible for him to do so. He was a demon, a rather high ranking one at that, despite his low worth in the eyes of Lucifer. Would the Creator even give him the time of day?

Camael had already forseen that Abaddon would find fault in her plan. It did seem like something that wouldn't work, especially considering Abaddon's status as a demon. But Camael was a Seraph, the closest to the Creator in the choir of angels. She was sure she could do it, and once she'd done so, the Creator might be able to tell them how to save Abaddon.

She turned to Abaddon, fire evident in her eyes. "Have you forgotten? I am Seraph."

Abaddon chanced a smile, tentative and not showing much hope. "Well, it can't hurt to try," He hesitated before doing something that he hadn't done for a very long time. He decided to thank the angel. "Thank you, Camael. I know we didn't get off to the best start but you've come through for me."

Fighting back a smile, Camael arched her brow at Abaddon. "You? Thanking me? Goodness, the world must be coming to an end." She shook her head but let the smile slip. "You're welcome," she finally said.

She stood up and stretched her limbs, bringing them back to life. "Shall we? We could attempt to speak to the Creator from here, but I'm not quite comfortable surrounded by such sinful texts."

Abaddon stood and couldn't help but laugh. He couldn't resist; he had to say something. "Sinful texts...?" He stepped over to the bookshelf and plucked out Fifty Shades of Grey. "Ohhh, did you mean this one?"

He opened the book and started reading the page, his expression contorted into one of deep thought and interest. "So that's how you do that. Well, I've been doing it all wrong for years."

Camael's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed as she saw Abaddon pick up the book. "Will you stop?" she exclaimed, feeling her blush grow at the man's words. "I'm quite certain that you shouldn't be putting your trust on such an atrocious work. I'm sure whatever you've been doing is good enough." There they were again, the images that seemed to appear whenever the topic of Abaddon's sinful acts came up.

She waved the thoughts away and ducked her head. "C-Can we please get a move on?"

Abaddon smirked and shot her a wink as he closed and placed the book back on the shelf. "Of course. Please, lead the way." He gestured for Camael to do so.

Camael, cheeks still tinted pink, ducked out of their enclosed space and into the main library where the humans lurked. Some shot the two of them looks, and Camael knew they thought they'd done more than talk while away from their prying eyes. She wanted to shout and tell them they were wrong, but that would only cause trouble. Sucking in a breath through clenched teeth, Camael hurried out of the library. Once outside, she let the cold air calm her nerves. Once she was sure she'd gathered herself well enough, she turned to Abaddon.

"Do you have a home here on earth? We need someplace where we can be absolutely certain no one will interrupt us," she stated.

Abaddon followed Camael out, hearing the sinful accusations of their relationship oozing from the people surrounding. He gave them each a leering smile; neither a confirmation or denial but leaning towards the former.

Exiting the library, he stretched his arms and back. All the talk of wings had got his own abominations restless. "I do, though it's nothing flash. It's simply an abandoned house."

He gestured for the angel to follow after him before walking on down the street.

"I do not wish for a fancy palace, Abaddon," Camael stated, albeit with a soft smile on her face. She followed Abaddon, hands tucked behind her back. She realized she'd been doing that for a while now. She always found herself facing Abaddon's back, following his lead. Being an angel, she'd been taught that everything happened for a reason. What was the reason for her sight always being the man's back? Was that some sort of symbolism that she would always be following him? Following him to where though? To salvation? Or to damnation?

She shook her head and sped up her pace so that she was side by side with Abaddon. That seemed better. "I never pegged you as the kind to live in an abandoned house."

Abaddon gave a simple shrug of the shoulders. "Anywhere seems like luxury compared to Hell." Everyone had their perceptions of Hell but he inew for certain that none of them even came close to the reality.

He turned down a back alleyway, much akin to the one he appeared in and navigated the twist and turns of the interlocking alleys. This was definitely his domain.

Camael followed Abaddon, making note of the turns they took and the landmarks around. She tucked the information in the back of her mind for later. "This abandoned house of yours," Camael began, "It wouldn't happen to be that building over there, would it?" She nodded towards a house a couple of blocks away where three teenagers were ducking into with something that Camael knew to be drugs.

Abaddon narrowed his eyes as he followed her gesture just in time to catch the teenagers entering. He knew the place to be nothing special but he found it endearing.

To have a few cockroaches infest his temporary home made his blood boil. "Yes," He murmured quietly. "That would be it."

Camael felt Abaddon's mood turn sour and she immediately rested a calming hand on his shoulder. "Don't," she said, a warning evident in her voice. "I'm sure they didn't know that the house was a demon's."

She knew why Abaddon would feel angry. To have other people desecrate your home was demeaning. The teenagers inside were also of the worst sort of people. something that made Camael utterly sad. To have such young souls be so tainted already... She shook it off and walked towards the house, hoping to catch the teens by surprise.