Fic: Rogue (Gabriel/M, Gabriel/F, PG-13) 14/36
For full notes and other chapters, please see the Masterpost.
Notes: This is the third part of the Missing an Angel series. It is recommended that you read the first two before reading this one.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 2,354
Chapter Summary: How could it already be too late?
CHAPTER 14:
Fall With You
Lilith had not survived as the oldest demon because she was easy to catch. She knew Gabriel was on her tail, but whether or not she realized he was the genuine Archangel and not simply a thief of an Archangel’s blade, he wasn’t sure. Regardless, she did everything she could to throw the angel off her scent. She possessed every child she came across as she led him in a bloody dance around the world, leaving a string of broken families in her wake. She summoned hellhounds and night cats, the monstrous pets of the underworld, and sicced them on Gabriel. Nests of demons buzzed up around the angel as he tracked Lilith, forcing him to stop and fight or dart around them before he could continue.
One snowy February day, Gabriel finally caught the demon right where they had started, in the backroom of Fergus’ tailor shop. Lilith, currently possessing a teenage girl, turned slowly, her breath coming in harsh pants. Her exhaustion was plain to see across her ravaged face, but Gabriel could feel the tell-tale hum of a freshly-cast spell vibrating in the air. Fergus was not present, but he had been here recently.
“All right,” Lilith said, raising her hands, all her fingers spread to show she wasn’t twisting a spell into existence. Gabriel was still wary as he slid into the room behind her, his wings stretching out to wrap around the demon and keep her from running again. Just as the average mortal (or angel, even) couldn’t see hellhounds, she wouldn’t be able to see his wings. “I give up. You’ve caught me.” Her white eyes were open innocently wide as she smiled at the angel. “Now what are you going to do with me?”
“Ask you to cancel Fergus’ contract.” Gabriel stepped closer to Lilith, drawing his sword. “I’ll even ask nicely. Please.”
Lilith shook her head, her attention focused on Gabriel’s sword. “I can’t do that, big god. Sorry. Ask for something else.”
“You’re the Queen of Hell,” Gabriel purred, reaching the sword out to slide the flat of the blade along Lilith’s cheek. The demon hissed and shuddered, pulling away from the blessed silver. “Who’s stopping you?”
“There are rules!” Lilith inched away from Gabriel, not enough to show she was trying to run, but just enough to keep her away from the angel’s weapon. “I’m not really Hell’s ruler. I’m just… I’m the regent! Lucifer is still the king!”
“And Lucifer says you can’t cancel a contract?” Gabriel didn’t believe that. He doubted his long-lost brother was saying much of anything from his buried cage. If Lucifer could communicate with the demons, the world would be in a lot more trouble than it was now.
“Fergus got his wish granted and had the full pleasure of using it for the five years of his contract! You want me just to give him that for free?”
“Give him a lifetime.” Gabriel brought his sword in again, merciless as Lilith flinched from the blade. “Give him eighty, a hundred years. Let him die an old man.”
Gabriel wouldn’t kill her. He suspected she knew that. He couldn’t risk killing her. Lilith was one of the Lucifer seals, one of the locks holding his brother in his isolated prison. There were six hundred such seals, but only two of them, Lilith and the Righteous Man, were important. No matter which combination of seals broke to let Lucifer out, one had to be the Righteous Man shedding blood in Hell, while the other was the death of the firstborn demon. If Gabriel killed Lilith, he risked putting Lucifer one step closer to freedom, one step closer to the Apocalypse.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt her.
It no longer mattered that Lilith had once been Sorcha, Gabriel’s favorite vessel. It no longer mattered that Gabriel had once sworn to protect her, or that he had failed to do so when he allowed his brother to catch sight of her. Lilith hurt Fergus, and Gabriel had no higher loyalty than to the man who had once been his best friend in all of Heaven.
“Well… I could do that…” Lilith began, “but, see, there’s a tiny little problem.” She squeezed her finger and thumb together, as if she could illustrate how small of a problem it actually was. “The hit’s already been called.”
“What?”
“Once a hellhound’s on your trail, that’s it.” Lilith shrugged. “They’re bred to kill, not think. Even we can’t call them back.”
“He had until April!”
“I know.” Lilith shrugged expressively, her hands in the air. “I lied. Oops.” Smirking, the demon crossed her arms over her chest, a cat-like smugness settling over her face. “You can do whatever you want to me, but when the sun sets tomorrow, my dogs will attack. Sure, you can probably hold them off with that sword for a bit-if you can see them-but you can’t protect him and threaten me at the same time. So, Loki, that’s your choice. You can make me pay… or you can go be with your mortal toy while he still has breath in his body. What’ll it be?”
Gabriel lowered the sword slowly, taking a step back, still staring at Lilith in horror. Tomorrow? Fergus was going to die tomorrow?
Lilith wasn’t important. Gabriel could always come back for her after Fergus was dead. She couldn’t hide from him forever. But Fergus… Gabriel needed to be with Fergus. He needed to see him again.
He needed to say good-bye.
He was going to say good-bye.
Fergus was going to die.
“That’s what I thought,” Lilith cooed. “Fergus is back where he came from, Canisbay, I think? He wanted to see his sea again before he died. I sent him there just before you got here.” She wiggled her fingers at the angel in a childish wave. “Buh-bye!”
Gabriel snarled at her even as he stretched out his wings and took off, racing home.
He found Fergus sitting at the edge of a snow covered cliff, his legs dangling over the side. He held a bottle of whisky in one hand, not bothering with a cup. Even though his skin was pink and blue, Fergus wasn’t shivering or trying to get out of the cold.
Gabriel landed right behind the man, snow melting beneath his feet. He dropped to his knees, wrapping his fire-heated wings around Fergus , and fell forward to press his forehead against the man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice catching on the word. Had Raphael been right about him all along? Was Gabriel incapable of doing anything correctly? “I’m sorry, I couldn’t…”
Fergus turned away from the sea, his arms curling around Gabriel’s body, his cold nose pressed against Gabriel’s neck. “It’s okay,” he murmured back, his hands moving soothingly over Gabriel’s back. “She cheated. You tried.”
“It’s not okay! You’re going to die!”
“Yeah.” Fergus took a deep breath, tucking himself in closer to Gabriel’s warmth. “Yeah, kinda figured that out about five years ago.”
“How can you be so calm about this?” Gabriel demanded, pulling back and grabbing Fergus’ shoulders. “How are you not trying to hunt her down yourself? Why are you not demanding her head?”
“Because I asked for this.” Fergus’ skin was already looking healthier, as Gabriel’s grace warmed him and sheltered him from the winter’s cold. He reached up, cupping Gabriel’s cheek in one hand. “Loki, I asked for her to take my life this year. It’s not her fault that she’s sticking to the terms of our deal,” his mouth twisted, “loosely. I just… I got to see you again. That’s what I really wanted, in the end. And I got to see you again, now.” He gave a little tug to Gabriel’s jaw. “Stay with me tonight? Stay with me until she comes for me?”
“I’ll stay,” Gabriel promised, turning his face to kiss the palm of Fergus’ hand. “I won’t leave you now. Not even for God Himself.”
Once, Gabriel would have defied God and stolen Cariel away to avoid his lieutenant’s death. Now, even that option was stripped from him. If Gabriel left Earth with Fergus, the angels would notice and descend immediately. If he stayed on Earth, Lilith’s hellhounds would find him eventually. No matter how many Gabriel cut down, more would keep coming. They would always keep coming. Hell had enough for an endless wave of the hounds, and Lilith would make sure she got her soul in the end.
“Maybe,” Fergus hedged, watching where his hand touched Gabriel’s lips, “maybe someplace warmer?”
Gabriel folded his arms around Fergus and flew. There was a shack on the beach, once a home to an old fisherman who had passed away long ago. It was enough. They landed, and Gabriel snapped his fingers once to weather-proof the old stone and rotting thatch, then again to clean away the mark of time on the abandoned home. He threw his hand toward the hearth, igniting a fire with his grace, and then looked back at the man.
Fergus stood against the far wall, his arms wrapped around himself, shoulders hunched forward as he watched Gabriel work. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his dark eyes glittering in the firelight.
“I’m a god,” Gabriel began to answer, but Fergus was shaking his head, cutting him off.
“No, it’s…” The man took a deep breath, letting it out shakily. “It’s the end. Might as well stop with the secrets.”
“Fergus?” Gabriel cocked his head to the side, not understanding.
Fergus took a swig from his bottle and made his way to the bed. Gabriel had replaced the flat straw mattress with a down one like the one he’d conjured up in Fergus’ shop. Fergus gave a little chuckle, sinking down onto the plush softness. “It’s always been you.”
“Been me what?”
“You kept saying I was better than this, that I wasn’t going to go to Hell,” Fergus paused to take another swig from his bottle. It was almost empty, but Gabriel fixed that with another snap of his fingers, earning an appreciative smile from Fergus. “That all I had to do was not do witchcraft, and I’d be fine.”
“You would have been,” Gabriel answered as kindly as he could. He didn’t want to say I told you so. Not now. “Whatever prophecy Lilith made about your birth was complete bull-”
“It wasn’t about the prophecy,” Fergus said, chasing his words with another swig of the whisky before pointing the bottleneck at Gabriel. “It was you. I was going to Hell because of you.”
“Associating with a god doesn’t doom you to Hell,” Gabriel protested, folding his arms across his chest.
“No? How about loving one?” Fergus’ arm holding the bottle dropped, the heavy glass hitting the floor with a clunk. “I dreamt about Gabrielle’s name, but it was your body. Your face. Every time she smiled at me? I imagined it was you. Every kiss, every touch, every fantasy… I like women, but you… you wouldn’t get out of my head! I thought if I courted her, you’d stop distracting me. If I courted any girl. She was the only one whose attention I could buy. I thought if I had the chance to kiss her, I’d forget you. I thought if I fucked her, I’d get you out of my mind. I thought if I married her, if she had my child… I thought I could make myself love her.” He gave a laugh that was more of a sob, bending nearly in half, his head brushing against his knees. “It’s always been you.”
Gabriel stared at Fergus, his mouth hanging open in surprise. Him? Everything with Gabrielle had been because Fergus was trying to ignore him?
“You’re a god,” Fergus whispered. “A man. It’s not right. It’s not natural. It’s not… it had nothing to do with witchcraft. My soul was damned to Hell the moment it met you. If only you’d been a goddess…”
“Fergus,” Gabriel answered, “Fergus you fool. You complete and utter imbecile.” He unfolded his arms, taking a step toward Fergus and holding up one finger. “First off, God doesn’t give a shit what you do with your body. As long as you don’t hurt another of His creations, He doesn’t care if you have sex with men, women, fruit trees… He wouldn’t damn you for that.” Gabriel did know that for a fact. The necropolis in the Kingdom of Heaven had some very interesting souls collected. “And secondly, secondly, Fergus, you moron, I’m a Trickster!” Gabriel snapped his fingers loudly, drawing a new skin over his own. His hair lengthened and curled, freckles sprouting over his skin. His body rippled, now curving where Loki used to be straight, genitals shifting to match. He was now she. She was Sorcha. “I can be anything,” she stressed, her voice higher than Loki’s, catching Fergus’ attention, “you want!”
Now it was Fergus’ turn to stare open-mouthed at Gabriel, his eyes raking down her body. Gabriel had changed Loki’s sensible shirt and trousers for a linen dress of the kind Sorcha had favored, loose around the shoulders and belted across the waist. She took a step closer to the bed, holding out her arms in invitation. “You’ve always wondered why I stayed with you all those years?”
Fergus nodded dumbly, abandoning his bottle to rise to his feet.
“Because,” Gabriel answered, and Fergus took step toward her, “even gods,” she was closing the distance too, reaching out for Fergus, for Cariel, “can fall in love.”
The last words were gasped into Fergus’ mouth as he crashed into her, pulling them together. His hands found her hair. Hers were already pushing up his shirt. The bottle of Craig was kicked over as they fell onto the bed, their mouths never separating more than Fergus needed to breathe. Gabriel chased after every electrifying kiss, her grace pushing through Fergus to reignite his tortured soul, feeling him burn against her. And as the world continued to turn beneath them, Gabriel finally, finally let herself fall.
Next...
Notes: This is the third part of the Missing an Angel series. It is recommended that you read the first two before reading this one.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 2,354
Chapter Summary: How could it already be too late?
CHAPTER 14:
Fall With You
Lilith had not survived as the oldest demon because she was easy to catch. She knew Gabriel was on her tail, but whether or not she realized he was the genuine Archangel and not simply a thief of an Archangel’s blade, he wasn’t sure. Regardless, she did everything she could to throw the angel off her scent. She possessed every child she came across as she led him in a bloody dance around the world, leaving a string of broken families in her wake. She summoned hellhounds and night cats, the monstrous pets of the underworld, and sicced them on Gabriel. Nests of demons buzzed up around the angel as he tracked Lilith, forcing him to stop and fight or dart around them before he could continue.
One snowy February day, Gabriel finally caught the demon right where they had started, in the backroom of Fergus’ tailor shop. Lilith, currently possessing a teenage girl, turned slowly, her breath coming in harsh pants. Her exhaustion was plain to see across her ravaged face, but Gabriel could feel the tell-tale hum of a freshly-cast spell vibrating in the air. Fergus was not present, but he had been here recently.
“All right,” Lilith said, raising her hands, all her fingers spread to show she wasn’t twisting a spell into existence. Gabriel was still wary as he slid into the room behind her, his wings stretching out to wrap around the demon and keep her from running again. Just as the average mortal (or angel, even) couldn’t see hellhounds, she wouldn’t be able to see his wings. “I give up. You’ve caught me.” Her white eyes were open innocently wide as she smiled at the angel. “Now what are you going to do with me?”
“Ask you to cancel Fergus’ contract.” Gabriel stepped closer to Lilith, drawing his sword. “I’ll even ask nicely. Please.”
Lilith shook her head, her attention focused on Gabriel’s sword. “I can’t do that, big god. Sorry. Ask for something else.”
“You’re the Queen of Hell,” Gabriel purred, reaching the sword out to slide the flat of the blade along Lilith’s cheek. The demon hissed and shuddered, pulling away from the blessed silver. “Who’s stopping you?”
“There are rules!” Lilith inched away from Gabriel, not enough to show she was trying to run, but just enough to keep her away from the angel’s weapon. “I’m not really Hell’s ruler. I’m just… I’m the regent! Lucifer is still the king!”
“And Lucifer says you can’t cancel a contract?” Gabriel didn’t believe that. He doubted his long-lost brother was saying much of anything from his buried cage. If Lucifer could communicate with the demons, the world would be in a lot more trouble than it was now.
“Fergus got his wish granted and had the full pleasure of using it for the five years of his contract! You want me just to give him that for free?”
“Give him a lifetime.” Gabriel brought his sword in again, merciless as Lilith flinched from the blade. “Give him eighty, a hundred years. Let him die an old man.”
Gabriel wouldn’t kill her. He suspected she knew that. He couldn’t risk killing her. Lilith was one of the Lucifer seals, one of the locks holding his brother in his isolated prison. There were six hundred such seals, but only two of them, Lilith and the Righteous Man, were important. No matter which combination of seals broke to let Lucifer out, one had to be the Righteous Man shedding blood in Hell, while the other was the death of the firstborn demon. If Gabriel killed Lilith, he risked putting Lucifer one step closer to freedom, one step closer to the Apocalypse.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt her.
It no longer mattered that Lilith had once been Sorcha, Gabriel’s favorite vessel. It no longer mattered that Gabriel had once sworn to protect her, or that he had failed to do so when he allowed his brother to catch sight of her. Lilith hurt Fergus, and Gabriel had no higher loyalty than to the man who had once been his best friend in all of Heaven.
“Well… I could do that…” Lilith began, “but, see, there’s a tiny little problem.” She squeezed her finger and thumb together, as if she could illustrate how small of a problem it actually was. “The hit’s already been called.”
“What?”
“Once a hellhound’s on your trail, that’s it.” Lilith shrugged. “They’re bred to kill, not think. Even we can’t call them back.”
“He had until April!”
“I know.” Lilith shrugged expressively, her hands in the air. “I lied. Oops.” Smirking, the demon crossed her arms over her chest, a cat-like smugness settling over her face. “You can do whatever you want to me, but when the sun sets tomorrow, my dogs will attack. Sure, you can probably hold them off with that sword for a bit-if you can see them-but you can’t protect him and threaten me at the same time. So, Loki, that’s your choice. You can make me pay… or you can go be with your mortal toy while he still has breath in his body. What’ll it be?”
Gabriel lowered the sword slowly, taking a step back, still staring at Lilith in horror. Tomorrow? Fergus was going to die tomorrow?
Lilith wasn’t important. Gabriel could always come back for her after Fergus was dead. She couldn’t hide from him forever. But Fergus… Gabriel needed to be with Fergus. He needed to see him again.
He needed to say good-bye.
He was going to say good-bye.
Fergus was going to die.
“That’s what I thought,” Lilith cooed. “Fergus is back where he came from, Canisbay, I think? He wanted to see his sea again before he died. I sent him there just before you got here.” She wiggled her fingers at the angel in a childish wave. “Buh-bye!”
Gabriel snarled at her even as he stretched out his wings and took off, racing home.
He found Fergus sitting at the edge of a snow covered cliff, his legs dangling over the side. He held a bottle of whisky in one hand, not bothering with a cup. Even though his skin was pink and blue, Fergus wasn’t shivering or trying to get out of the cold.
Gabriel landed right behind the man, snow melting beneath his feet. He dropped to his knees, wrapping his fire-heated wings around Fergus , and fell forward to press his forehead against the man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice catching on the word. Had Raphael been right about him all along? Was Gabriel incapable of doing anything correctly? “I’m sorry, I couldn’t…”
Fergus turned away from the sea, his arms curling around Gabriel’s body, his cold nose pressed against Gabriel’s neck. “It’s okay,” he murmured back, his hands moving soothingly over Gabriel’s back. “She cheated. You tried.”
“It’s not okay! You’re going to die!”
“Yeah.” Fergus took a deep breath, tucking himself in closer to Gabriel’s warmth. “Yeah, kinda figured that out about five years ago.”
“How can you be so calm about this?” Gabriel demanded, pulling back and grabbing Fergus’ shoulders. “How are you not trying to hunt her down yourself? Why are you not demanding her head?”
“Because I asked for this.” Fergus’ skin was already looking healthier, as Gabriel’s grace warmed him and sheltered him from the winter’s cold. He reached up, cupping Gabriel’s cheek in one hand. “Loki, I asked for her to take my life this year. It’s not her fault that she’s sticking to the terms of our deal,” his mouth twisted, “loosely. I just… I got to see you again. That’s what I really wanted, in the end. And I got to see you again, now.” He gave a little tug to Gabriel’s jaw. “Stay with me tonight? Stay with me until she comes for me?”
“I’ll stay,” Gabriel promised, turning his face to kiss the palm of Fergus’ hand. “I won’t leave you now. Not even for God Himself.”
Once, Gabriel would have defied God and stolen Cariel away to avoid his lieutenant’s death. Now, even that option was stripped from him. If Gabriel left Earth with Fergus, the angels would notice and descend immediately. If he stayed on Earth, Lilith’s hellhounds would find him eventually. No matter how many Gabriel cut down, more would keep coming. They would always keep coming. Hell had enough for an endless wave of the hounds, and Lilith would make sure she got her soul in the end.
“Maybe,” Fergus hedged, watching where his hand touched Gabriel’s lips, “maybe someplace warmer?”
Gabriel folded his arms around Fergus and flew. There was a shack on the beach, once a home to an old fisherman who had passed away long ago. It was enough. They landed, and Gabriel snapped his fingers once to weather-proof the old stone and rotting thatch, then again to clean away the mark of time on the abandoned home. He threw his hand toward the hearth, igniting a fire with his grace, and then looked back at the man.
Fergus stood against the far wall, his arms wrapped around himself, shoulders hunched forward as he watched Gabriel work. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his dark eyes glittering in the firelight.
“I’m a god,” Gabriel began to answer, but Fergus was shaking his head, cutting him off.
“No, it’s…” The man took a deep breath, letting it out shakily. “It’s the end. Might as well stop with the secrets.”
“Fergus?” Gabriel cocked his head to the side, not understanding.
Fergus took a swig from his bottle and made his way to the bed. Gabriel had replaced the flat straw mattress with a down one like the one he’d conjured up in Fergus’ shop. Fergus gave a little chuckle, sinking down onto the plush softness. “It’s always been you.”
“Been me what?”
“You kept saying I was better than this, that I wasn’t going to go to Hell,” Fergus paused to take another swig from his bottle. It was almost empty, but Gabriel fixed that with another snap of his fingers, earning an appreciative smile from Fergus. “That all I had to do was not do witchcraft, and I’d be fine.”
“You would have been,” Gabriel answered as kindly as he could. He didn’t want to say I told you so. Not now. “Whatever prophecy Lilith made about your birth was complete bull-”
“It wasn’t about the prophecy,” Fergus said, chasing his words with another swig of the whisky before pointing the bottleneck at Gabriel. “It was you. I was going to Hell because of you.”
“Associating with a god doesn’t doom you to Hell,” Gabriel protested, folding his arms across his chest.
“No? How about loving one?” Fergus’ arm holding the bottle dropped, the heavy glass hitting the floor with a clunk. “I dreamt about Gabrielle’s name, but it was your body. Your face. Every time she smiled at me? I imagined it was you. Every kiss, every touch, every fantasy… I like women, but you… you wouldn’t get out of my head! I thought if I courted her, you’d stop distracting me. If I courted any girl. She was the only one whose attention I could buy. I thought if I had the chance to kiss her, I’d forget you. I thought if I fucked her, I’d get you out of my mind. I thought if I married her, if she had my child… I thought I could make myself love her.” He gave a laugh that was more of a sob, bending nearly in half, his head brushing against his knees. “It’s always been you.”
Gabriel stared at Fergus, his mouth hanging open in surprise. Him? Everything with Gabrielle had been because Fergus was trying to ignore him?
“You’re a god,” Fergus whispered. “A man. It’s not right. It’s not natural. It’s not… it had nothing to do with witchcraft. My soul was damned to Hell the moment it met you. If only you’d been a goddess…”
“Fergus,” Gabriel answered, “Fergus you fool. You complete and utter imbecile.” He unfolded his arms, taking a step toward Fergus and holding up one finger. “First off, God doesn’t give a shit what you do with your body. As long as you don’t hurt another of His creations, He doesn’t care if you have sex with men, women, fruit trees… He wouldn’t damn you for that.” Gabriel did know that for a fact. The necropolis in the Kingdom of Heaven had some very interesting souls collected. “And secondly, secondly, Fergus, you moron, I’m a Trickster!” Gabriel snapped his fingers loudly, drawing a new skin over his own. His hair lengthened and curled, freckles sprouting over his skin. His body rippled, now curving where Loki used to be straight, genitals shifting to match. He was now she. She was Sorcha. “I can be anything,” she stressed, her voice higher than Loki’s, catching Fergus’ attention, “you want!”
Now it was Fergus’ turn to stare open-mouthed at Gabriel, his eyes raking down her body. Gabriel had changed Loki’s sensible shirt and trousers for a linen dress of the kind Sorcha had favored, loose around the shoulders and belted across the waist. She took a step closer to the bed, holding out her arms in invitation. “You’ve always wondered why I stayed with you all those years?”
Fergus nodded dumbly, abandoning his bottle to rise to his feet.
“Because,” Gabriel answered, and Fergus took step toward her, “even gods,” she was closing the distance too, reaching out for Fergus, for Cariel, “can fall in love.”
The last words were gasped into Fergus’ mouth as he crashed into her, pulling them together. His hands found her hair. Hers were already pushing up his shirt. The bottle of Craig was kicked over as they fell onto the bed, their mouths never separating more than Fergus needed to breathe. Gabriel chased after every electrifying kiss, her grace pushing through Fergus to reignite his tortured soul, feeling him burn against her. And as the world continued to turn beneath them, Gabriel finally, finally let herself fall.
Next...