Takes place immediately following the last scene in 2x5 "Weaponizer". Title from Whirlwind of Rubbish by Evangelist.

"What have I done?"

The world was closing in around him, the walls moving closer, the room darkening and the only thing that grounded him was the face of his mother. The mother that had escaped Hell under Amenadiel's watch because he had gotten his wings stolen because he had cut them off to spite their father. The mother that had come to him and awoken long forgotten feelings and tested loyalties, the woman he had traded Chloe's life for and was now paying the price because for the first time in all of existence he hadn't kept his word.

"No… No, no, no."

The embrace wasn't foreign; in fact it was achingly familiar. Eons ago he was held in these arms after Amenadiel had beaten him up for refusing to shut his mouth. He had been held like this when his father had yelled at him for a number of reasons but never had he been held because of something like this. This was all on him, from beginning to end. The world was burning, turning to ash and gathering at his feet.

His arms wrapped around his mother, held her tightly as he stared off into the abyss, his red-rimmed eyes wide as tears continually cascaded down his dirty cheeks, falling and coming to rest upon the woman that he had killed his brother for. One of them. Had it been the right decision, were their lives worth more than his? His mother deserved a second chance, deserved to be here, or perhaps she didn't and he was so blinded by his own selfish needs that he had become disillusioned. Having her here was confusing, made it difficult to maintain control when things were turning to chaos, and he was slowly reverting into a child again now that he had someone to lean on.

A cracked sob left his throat when he buried his face in her shoulder, mourning the unexpected and sudden loss of his family. The family he had murdered in cold blood. Did he even have any family left other than the one he was embracing? He was a monster, a terrible thing that didn't deserve to have anyone in his life, let alone divine beings. He had always tried to hurt his father, had gotten joy out of beating up his brother, had ordered Maze to torture his mother, and had killed his other sibling. He was evil, he was the worst of the worst and he deserved terrible things to happen to him.

A hand rose to his head and ran through his mussed hair, a soft voice shushing him meeting his ears before lips pressed to his temple. His trembling hands lifted behind her so he could see the bright red blood upon them, could see the physical evidence of his greatest sin dried and peeling and sticky on his tainted skin. His brother's blood. This couldn't be happening, nothing would ever be the same again; he had made sure of that.

Chloe was safe but at what cost? Was he that desperate for her affections, did he love her that much that he would take the life of his family for her? Yes, he would. He did, and she would never have a clue. Chloe Decker would remain blissfully ignorant to his life shattering decision that had stemmed directly from another he had made. Twice he had defied the Heavens for her life, but this was so much worse.

He wanted his mother to wave her hand and make everything all right again, wanted her to protect him from himself. Nothing would be right again, ever, because Uriel was dead. His throat tightened, the lump in it making it hard to breath as the full gravity and severity sunk in. The tremors wracking his body were worsening, his muscles beginning to ache at the stress carried in them.

"Mum," he brokenly whispered.

Why was she touching him? He had murdered her child, she should be filled with contempt and disgust. Careful to not get his brother's blood on her he tried to pull away but she wasn't allowing it, just held him closer and she grabbed his face, long thin fingers across his damp and bloody skin.

Her eyes drifted over his entire face and he could only imagine what she was seeing. He wasn't stupid, he had seen the horror flash in her eyes for only a fraction of a second when she realized what he had done. His heart was pounding in his ears, his legs beginning to give out yet he still held her eyes because though this body wasn't hers the eyes were.

"I forgive you."

Tears fell from both as he shakily asked, "How?"

Leaning forward and pulling him down she pressed her forehead to his, her eyes clenching shut. "Because you're my son."

"So was he," he choked.

It could have been minutes, hours, days, that they stood in each other's arms but neither ever moved even as the world crumbled around them. In this moment it wasn't the mother of all creation and the devil, it was a mother and her son both clinging to each other to mourn a loss. No one would ever understand what he was feeling, what he had done except for him. The burden was his to carry for all eternity, alone, but for just a small moment in time he could lean on another.

He sucked in a sharp breath at what would happen when Amenadiel found out. There was no way he would understand, despite being beaten to a pulp. Had his last words been filled with rage and hate or fear and self-loathing? No one had made peace because they had no idea this was going to happen, that a brother would turn on another. No, he had taken everything away, had held his brother's dying body in his hands with Azrael's blade buried to the hilt in his stomach. Had watched as he went limp, the life draining from his eyes and a small accepting smile upon his face. Had picked him up and carried him to a proper resting place because he deserved better than having Maze, the demon who had ill words for him despite him being dead, dispose of him.

All innocence had been lost today; the old life was over.