Death Interrupted

. Her words wash over him like a salve he doesn’t feel quite worthy of, like forgiveness wrapped in silken threads and he knows, he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Yet there she stands, eyes piercing through him like they have since the very first moment they met, since the day she stole his heart and soul. His breath catches and he doesn’t understand how she can render him speechless, how she can make the entire world stop like this. The way her gaze isn’t scornful even though it should be, but he allows himself to be seen in it. To feel the magnetic pull of her presence, how he wants to go to her, wrap her in his arms and protect her. But protect her from what? Fi has never needed his protection, not really and he’d be a fool to think she did. She’d needed his aid at times, needed support of course but help, he nearly laughs at the thought. Fi is a force to be reckoned with and those that mistake her small stature and brilliant smile as weak are as good as dead. Maybe she’ll be his death one day—what a beautiful thought that is.

Still, her words echo around him, envelope him and he takes a step forward, and then another. Closing the distance between them until they’re nearly intimately close, how long has it been? How long since he’s last felt her touch, let her scent linger on his skin, felt the silken strands of her hair slide through his fingers. His tongue traces the backs of his teeth, unable to bring himself to speak yet, afraid it’ll shatter this moment into a million tiny pieces. But he needs to do something, he knows he can't just stand her even if that's all he wants. All he needs, just to stand here in her presence, to be allowed to look upon her again. Gabriel’s fingers are gentle as he raises his hand, letting them brush over her jaw, trailing up to her ear where he tucks stray strands behind it before returning to Fi’s chin. He can feel the way his pulse spikes, the way his body seems to jar itself in and out of reality. He’s not even sure if this is real, perhaps it’s just a memory, a long forgotten one having resurfaced after all this time. Or maybe it’s a dream, one he’s conjured after seeing a familiar smile, after hearing a familiar laugh. Not quite Fi’s but so close that he had to stop himself from turning around and searching for her in the crowd.

Gabriel’s eyes narrow as he spits, tasting the copper of blood coating the inside of his mouth. His lips busted, brow cut and he swears faintly he can see spots dancing in the corner of his eyes but he forces himself to try and stand anyways. A lot of good it does him though, for the moment he starts to move, his knees give out sending him straight back onto his ass and he growls. “You know what!” He shouts up at them, “you can’t call me an asshole and then try and do something nice, so either fuck off or…” he doesn’t know what else to say as a wave of dizziness washes over him, whatever was on the tip of that blade has really fucked him over. He looks down at his shirt and winces but he realizes that he’s not healing, not very fast anyways so it’s either deal with Mr. attitude here or… stay the night on the streets and hope it doesn’t rain.

As if on cue thunder rumbles overhead, expression turning deadpanned before he’s reaching a hand out. “Fine, but don’t blame me when you have blood all over your suit, I’m not paying for your dry cleaning and I sure as hell am not inviting you in for a drink.” Lies he tells himself, he won’t even be able to get inside his house without their help let alone get himself a drink. But, Gabriel thinks as he feels them pulling him up, tossing his arm over their shoulders and wincing, maybe it won’t be so bad to have some help after all.

CARING FOR STUBBORN MUSES. for when the person you’re trying to care for insists they don’t need your help.

His eyes narrowed as the other began speaking… a lot. The fact that he was recognized wasn’t immediately alarming, but as the fellow spoke further it became apparent that it wasn’t just that he was recognized as he was, but as he had been before. Very few would be able to identify him in his new suit that had known him in the last. It wasn’t as though he was broadcasting anything to give himself away.

He watched with an annoyed look as the cigarette fell to the ground, broken in two. His gaze remained on the smoldering piece for a few beats before he looked back to the one who had so easily identified him. It wasn’t until the final sentence spoken to him that he realized not only how the man was able to figure him out, but also exactly who he was.

“Gabriel,” it was spoken with a hint of surprise while he reached for his pack of cigarettes again. “Might’ve escaped your knowledge, but I’m already dead, pal.” He smirked as he stuck a new cigarette between his lips and lit it. He took a long, deep drag off it and blew the smoke at the angel. “Gotta say; this new look is fitting for you.”

@deathinterrupted

     They hardly react to the broken cigarette and that itself is comical to the archangel, his grin widening as they merely reach for another one, plucking it from the pack and lighting it once more. “Bingo!” He gives two boyish finger-guns toward the demon, eyes alight with mirth before he’s waving his hand in front of his face to disperse the cloud of smoke they’ve blown at him. He shoots them an annoyed frown before his shoulders rise and fall in a half-hearted shrug, “I suppose you’re already dead, but you could be more dead.” There’s a moment and he pauses, “well I guess not but you know what I mean. You could always pick up a new hobby, I’ve heard gum works well. Or you could try just not going out in public, that would probably work the best for both of us.” Gabriel offers them a flirty wink as if he didn’t just insult them before he looks down at himself.

     “Ah, you noticed, isn’t it? Pretty dapper if I do say so myself,” he looks himself over like some novelty prize, his gaze slowly sliding back up toward Micah’s. “You know, I think this is the first time you’ve actually complimented me, new look new you? Is this your ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ era or what is it called, ‘Live, Laugh, Mid-Crisis?’ I’d understand if it was the latter, age does that to you.” He says, tone full of feigned understanding as he tries not to snort a laugh. 

His fingers fumble with his shirt and he frowns, “damned buttons,” the words spill from his lips in a heated hiss as he looks down at her on their bed, deliciously flushed, hair mussed. She looks up at him and he wants to grovel in front of her because there’s no possible way a mortal can be this beautiful, but she’s not just any mortal, Fi is his. Her lips quirk and he swears again as she starts to lean forward, the straps of her dress sliding down her shoulders, kiss swollen lips part as her tongue flicks over them and he groans. The words tease the air around them, her gaze challenging, brow cocking and Gabriel stills for a moment before he simply rips the shirt off his body and flings it to the side. “Not anymore, remind me again why it is they made clothes so hard to get out of?”

He crawls toward her on the bed, knee spreading her legs open as he looms above her but she doesn’t back down and he smirks, brushing his lips over the corner of her own, “what if I was on fire? What if there was something awful on my shirt and they expect me to just take my time to push buttons that don’t fit through the too small button holes?” He raises a brow at that, “clothes are useless, I think we should make it a new rule that we don’t wear any clothes as soon as we get inside. What do you think? Just go around naked… I lived in a nudist colony for a while, did I ever tell you about that?” Gabriel laughs as he kisses his way down her neck, guiding her back upon the bed as his hand rests at the nape of her neck. “So freeing really, but we’ll have to keep the curtains closed at all times, apparently you can get fined for being naked in your own home if you don’t keep the curtains closed. Strange rule that one.”  

She notices the him falter the tightening of his hands, she wishes that she didn’t have to say the words, wishes that she had spoken them years ago. Multiple times. Glad that she can’t see his features as she makes her confession to him. After he made his decision to leave it had been too late, her sentence passed. Why hasn’t he said anything back, time seems so slow as she awaits his response. Please just say something. For a couple of moments she’s wondering if she’s ruined what they had already. It’s a relief when he fusses over her hair- something. Then he kisses her so softly like she may break and to be honest feels like she might just shatter out of relief at hearing the words that he speaks. 

“I know we agreed, I’m sorry but I just needed to say it. It’s been eating away at me, that’s all.” She breathes back into the small space between them as he rests his forehead against hers. The thoughts had been pressing on her mind since he had returned and it was doing her no good to keep things to herself. She was rightly ashamed, but it feels as if a cloud had lifted as e pulls away from her.

“Bossy,” she frowns, but there is a grin on her features as she reaches for her cup of coffee, and looks over the coffee cup as he speaks blue eye lighting up at the possibilities.“You have any particular kind of mischief on your mind, Pet?”

     They haven’t ripped the band-aid off yet but it’s close, hanging onto the last bits of skin like an irritating hangnail. There’s more to discuss, more to heal but he doesn’t want to bring it up today, not when just this little bit made him feel as if his entire footing had been lost for the briefest of moments. It’s too soon, too raw even as they both smile at each other, saving it for another day to finish ripping the band-aid off, to heal the hurt they both still held. But it was as he said, a clean slate for them both, and for now, as she teases him Gabriel smirks like he always does. “You should know, Mistress,” Gabriel laughs at that, “you’re the epitome of bossy,” and he leans in pressing a kiss to her cheek before he’s pulling back, humming delightedly.

She rolled her eyes at his words, knowing well enough how dangerous ghouls were. At least he asked to look, rather than simply taking it upon himself to just take over. “Sure,” she added a nod with the response, just for good measure. As he questioned how she’d found herself facing a ghoul, she shook her head.

“I was a couple towns over before you called to meet up,” she explained. “It was actually presenting unlike any ghoul I’ve ever seen. I thought I was dealing with something entirely different until I found it.” Which was concerning in and of itself, really. When anything started adapting and changing the way it acted it was always a problem. Especially when it was so misleading. She was lucky she wasn’t some green hunter, unaccustomed to the way things were changing in the last couple years.

Even though she had a decent history with angels, her brows still lifted in surprise as he summoned a first aid kit to assist him in tending to her wound. She often forgot that, yes he was an angel, but he was a archangel, which made him significantly more powerful than most others she had encountered. Of course, leave it to Gabriel to take a fairly serious situation, despite her stating otherwise, and make light of it. “Would ya hurry up; it’s chilly out here.”

     He takes care with applying the antiseptic, dabbing it on gently as he leans down and blows across the wounded skin. It would be easy to heal it with his magic, surely but hunters have their pride and Gabriel has been on the face of one too many Dean Winchester’s and their annoying, I can take care of myself, fuck off, bullshit. So he tends to it the way any mortal would, cleaning and dabbing, cleaning and dabbing until the wound is completely covered and sets aside the soiled cotton ball and reaches for the large square patch of bandage and tape.

     “Wait, it was what?” Gabriel’s fingers still with the piece of tape barely pressing against Ry’s skin, fingertips light against her ribs as he looks up at her and there’s a flicker of concern. “It was presenting as something else…” he frowns at that looking back at her injury as he quickly moves to cover it up, pressing down gently upon the table until all the sides are sealed. “Well, that’s not good.” Clearly it’s not but Gabriel doesn’t know what else to say as he frowns, “have you heard anything as to why it was presenting otherwise? I mean, the last time things started getting—how should I say it, smarter?” He snorts a laugh, “it wasn’t very good, I mean the reasons behind it weren’t very good and there really shouldn’t be,” he swirls his finger toward the sky like he’s making a mixture, “any of that mess going on anymore.”

She looks sheepishly at the angel in the doorway, glad that he doesn’t appear to be mad at her. “Thank you.” She says to the tea picking up the cup and cradling it with both hands, as he fixes her hair crossing her legs as she drinks the hot liquid. “You would help me sort through all this? My hero. I’ll try and find a more permanent solution to my workload problem. I promise.”

Hand wanders over his shoulder gently massaging his neck, wanting to touch him and wondering why he seems hesitant to touch her. “I’m done, the rest of this can be taken care of tomorrow… I’ve not had a bath in ages.” She quietly admits. but the way that she’s been hunching over her work, “But after today that sounds heavenly.”

     He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest not angrily, but relaxed as he watches her with a fond smile. “Some things never change,” he chuckles and looks over the paperwork strewn over her desk, sighing before he walks in.  His shirt is still tucked into his pants as he makes his way over and takes a seat beside her on the couch, “do you need any help with this? I don’t mind,” Gabriel offers, refilling her teacup with a touch of his finger against it, steaming liquid warm and softly scented starts to fill the space between them. He wants to touch her, to pull her in close but he doesn’t, opting to brush a few stray stands of hair behind her ear and he murmurs gently, “why don’t we take a bath after you finish up?”