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: 1,696
Chapter Summary: In 1861, the greatest hunter to ever live passed away.
CHAPTER 35:
1861
It was raining in Sunrise, Wyoming, when Gabriel landed, so he made sure to come to a stop beneath the porch roof of the little cabin. He folded his wings in and removed his hat as he pushed the door open. It hadn’t been locked. It hadn’t even been closed fully.
The cabin was dark and empty, save for the lone figure curled up in the bed in the other room. Gabriel crossed over to the fireplace, setting a few logs in place before flicking his fingers and igniting them with just a spark of his grace. He set a kettle to boil over the fire before he went around the main room, pinching every lamp wick and candle to light them all, chasing away some of the gloom.
A perusal of the cupboards found Gabriel a battered tray and a chipped tea set that had seen better days, but it was clean and serviceable. He arranged the dishes on the tray and added a few chocolate cookies brought with him from Switzerland. That done, he glanced around the main room. There. By the desk. Gabriel crossed over to the gun belt and drew the old revolver out carefully.
The Colt. Already, this gun was infamous the world over. It could kill anything. Gabriel carefully opened the cylinder, reading the powerful runes carved into the metal. He glanced toward the bedroom, then toward the stove, and then carefully licked one finger and rubbed a few key lines out. The heat of his grace melted the metal just enough to change the meaning of this important component. It could still kill most things, but now it wasn’t strong enough to destroy an Archangel’s grace. Gabriel let out a breath, ten years of tension able to finally drain away.
By the time the kettle whistled, Gabriel had the gun tucked away again as if he had never touched it. As the angel prepared the tea, he picked up an abandoned whiskey bottle and added a hearty dollop of the liquor to one of the cups, and after a moment’s hesitation, to the other. Finally, he picked up the tray and headed into the bedroom.
The figure in the bed curled up tighter as Gabriel entered, pulling the blankets over its head, but Gabriel was undeterred. He set the tray down on the nightstand and sat gently on the mattress, reaching out to find a shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“No ‘I told you so’?” Jane pushed the blankets back and sat up slowly, rubbing her hands over her red eyes. “No ‘this was always going to happen’?”
“No.” Gabriel picked up a tea cup and offered it to his grieving daughter. “Just tea. And chocolate. I could offer you a dog too, if I didn’t think he’d eat all your cookies and then fart up a storm. Need to figure out why he’s being so gassy.” Jane couldn’t stop a giggle at that thought, and Gabriel wrapped a wing around her, picking up his own cup. “Have you been here ever since?”
Jane nodded against Gabriel’s shoulder, grabbing the edge of his wing and pulling it tight around her like a living blanket. “Is this what it was like when my father died?” she asked. “How did you ever endure?”
Gabriel closed his eyes, trying not to remember that fateful day but completely failing. “I almost didn’t,” he said. “I threw a temper tantrum loud enough to attract the attention of angels. I actually got caught by one, but mercifully, by probably the only one who was willing to let me escape. I hid on a boat for six months, and I refused to eat.”
“Good thing you don’t have to,” Jane murmured.
“I don’t, but you did.” Gabriel kissed the top of Jane’s head. “Nearly killed us both. Would have too, probably, if your Aunt Kali hadn’t slapped some sense into me.”
“Is that how you survived without him?” Jane asked. “You stayed alive for me?”
“Yes. You needed me. I couldn’t give up on you.” Gabriel couldn’t stop the glance down to Jane’s belly, but she shook her head, covering it with a hand.
“I’m not pregnant. I don’t think I even could become pregnant.” Her lips twitched a little, and she turned against Gabriel’s side, wrapping her arms around him. He hugged her back, tucking her against his chest like he was a child. “We tried. I wanted a child, wanted his child, but we never… ten years, and nothing happened. And I was thinking… mules.”
“Mules?”
“Mules have a horse mother and a donkey father, and never have foals. Not ever. Maybe I’m like a mule. Angel mother, human father, no children.”
“You’re not a mule,” Gabriel chided, trying to recall an instance of a second generation Nephilim to reassure Jane with, but none came to mind. “I mean, just because there hasn’t ever been children of Nephilim doesn’t necessarily mean there can’t be. The original Nephilim were very busy with a war, after all, and with Lucifer always watching over them.”
“Thank you for trying to make me feel better, Papa, but maybe you should stop talking,” Jane muttered.
Gabriel fell silent, hugging Jane against his side again. She sipped at her tea and stared blankly at the far wall, not saying anything for twenty minutes.
“I wasn’t even with him when he died.” Jane reached up to wipe at her eyes again. “We agreed a couple years ago that I needed to move on. People were asking too many questions, frowning too much. It wasn’t proper for such an old man and such a young lady to be living together, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t call myself his daughter, not even just in public.” She sniffed, pressing the rim of her cup against her chin. “So I left, and he moved here. I left him the knife. I gave him a journal too, told him to write things down since he wouldn’t have me to talk to anymore. He wanted to give me the gun, but I wouldn’t take it. Demons were coming after him, after all, Samuel Colt, the man who held back Hell. They didn’t care about me.”
“I’m sure he knew you still loved him at the end,” Gabriel said. “Even though you couldn’t be with him.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have done this,” Jane whispered. “Maybe I shouldn’t have tried to live a life with him. Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so much…”
“No, Jane,” Gabriel murmured against her hair. “No, absolutely not. It hurts now, I know it does, believe me, I know, but you were happy for all those years. No one can ever take that from you. This hurt will grow duller, given time, but that happiness will never fade. I wish I could take away your pain now, but I would never wish for you to have not experienced that joy.”
Jane twisted into Gabriel’s lap with a sob, and Gabriel barely had enough time to rescue her tea before he needed to hold her as she cried, rocking her gently.
The pair stayed in Sunrise for a week. Gabriel eventually brought Thorn to join them, and the little dog curled up with his mistress every night, letting her hold him as she slept fitfully. Gabriel accompanied Jane as she set flowers on Colt’s grave, and he helped her pack up his things, especially those pertaining to hunting.
“There’s a family of hunters further east who might appreciate some of this,” Jane said as she tucked Colt’s journal into a box. “The Campbells. I think I might anonymously leave it on their doorstep.”
“There’s another group spreading over here from Europe, calling themselves the Men of Letters. They’re not exactly hunters themselves, but they help those who do hunt. Perhaps Colt can make a donation to them of some of his millions, help them get established here.”
“That’s a good idea.” Jane put the last of Colt’s books in the box and closed the lid. “I think I’m going to leave the gun in town.”
“Here?” Gabriel frowned, glancing back in the direction of Sunrise. “There aren’t any hunters here.”
“No, but old man Elkins, who runs the saloon, has seen more than his fair share of the supernatural. He’s the only man Samuel considered a real friend here, according to his journal.” Jane closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I think I’ll leave the gun with him, and explain the significance of Colt’s Folly. He can watch over it for us, and his children can when he dies. It can be their family legacy.”
“Sounds like you’ve thought everything through.”
“I’ve tried.” Jane rested her hands on the box and looked around the desolate little cabin. “I think that’s everything.”
Gabriel picked up a knife belt, Jane’s “ancient demon-killing knife of the Kurds,” and she smiled a little, holding out a hand for it. “What are you going to do next?” Gabriel asked, watching his daughter strap the belt around her waist, her fingers lingering on the hilt of the knife. “Because I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to come along with me.”
Jane shook her head slowly. “I love you, Papa, but… you were right.”
“You’ve been spoiled for freedom.”
“I finally feel grown-up,” Jane admitted with a little shrug. “And I love it.”
Gabriel smiled sadly, crossing the room and cupping Jane’s cheek in one hand. “I love you, Angel. I miss you every day.”
“I miss you too, Papa, but I have to go my own way.” Jane leaned in to kiss Gabriel’s cheek. “You write to me, and I’ll write to you. We’ll have to find wonderful places to meet for my birthdays.”
“We’ll plan them months in advance.”
“And you have to dress up.” Jane pointed a finger at Gabriel. “I want to see you in nothing less than a suit!”
Gabriel chuckled, nodding as he stepped back from Jane. “Until then?”
“Until then.”
Gabriel whistled for Thorn, and the dog came bounding over to the angel. He gathered Thorn up in his arms, gave Jane one last look, and spread his wings.
Next Rogue Chapter... Missing Scene: Loch Ness