Gabriel - Post Chapter Three (Patreon)

A/N Post Chapter Three thoughts from Gabriel. This is assuming he is romancing the MC. MC is referred to as they within this short to keep pronouns inclusive.

Gabriel was not a man who often cursed.  He found it uncouth and unbecoming of a person of his station.  Though when the gate opened, practically at his feet, he felt every litany of displeasure course through him.  More people poured through that they had to find support for. Another crack snapped like a chasm through the ever thinning veil. And once more, he was left with more questions and very little answers as to why any of this was happening.  If the day ever did come that he found the Gatekeeper, he suspected he would toss them in confinement simply for the trouble they had already caused.

All he had wanted, was a nice dinner, and polite conversation.

The remnants of their snack feast were still on his desk when he arrived back, hanging his cloak upon the curved metal hook by the converted cell door and unhooking his sword from his hip. Why he even carried it was beyond him. It was standard issue for the Velvet Guard but he never drew it. Hated the things, really.  They were nothing like how a sword should be and in the end were only a sad imitation of a real blade, clanging against his thigh in irritation.

Sighing, Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose. There was a possibility he should eat some of their leftover snacks.  Too much wine was fermenting in his belly and not enough food.  Typical night, really.

“Warden?”

“What?” Gabriel snapped. Turning, he found a familiar form. The tall and lanky figure of a sometimes bird, the wisps of his blonde hair sticking up in several directions.  Gabriel sighed at the nervous sight, walking around to sit behind his desk. He had plenty of paperwork he had been too distracted to get done. He may as well spend a few moments going through it all while Caliban spun whatever story he had come to tell.  “What is it, Caliban? I do have work this evening.”

The man, Caliban, shifted from foot to foot, weighing out his words at the obviously disgruntled figure of a guard before him.  “Reese is a bit pissy about the current gate opening.”

Gabriel paused, a stack of parchment fluttering beneath the huff of breath he let out. “You can report back to him that it is not as if I am enjoying its arrival.”

“No. I know. I get it. I really do. But uh– so here’s the thing? He’s pissy in that way where he’s gonna start causing some problems.  Like the bloody kind.”

Gabriel was rather proud of the fact that he didn’t slam his head down into the desk.  “Tell him,” he said through gritted teeth, “that I am taking care of it as best as I can.”

“I can tell him that,” Caliban agreed.  Again, he rocked back and forth on his heels, debating his current situation. Making a decision, he slipped further into the room, shut the door behind him, and plopped down into the vacant chair. Gabriel’s eyes ticked upwards. It was the chair they had sat in not long ago. “Or,” Caliban started, drawing out his syllables, “I could go back to him with clear proof of what it is you are actually going to do so he isn’t in the pissy mood he is in.”

Pen hovering over his forms, Gabriel watched as the ink dripped in one long line over the parchment.  “You cannot just appease his anger some other way?”

“What other way would that be?” Caliban asked, confused. “Oh! Wait. You mean blow him? I mean, yeah, I could, but that’s like a daily thing for Reese so I don’t think it’s really a lack of sex that’s…”

Gabriel held up his hand. “Please stop.”

“Right. Probably don’t want to be hearing that stuff about your adoptive dad and all that, huh? I get it. I see you.”  Propping his feet up on the desk, Caliban eyed the wrappers. Crinkled cellophane and bits of cheese cloth were crumpled in the corner. “You a binge eater?”

“I had company earlier.”  Ticking the correct boxes he let his eyes scan over the sheet beneath him. It was mechanical at this point. Gabriel wondered if he would be able to fill out gate missives with his eyes closed.

Across the desk, Caliban grinned at him, his lips stretching into something curious. “Oh really? And who might this company be?”

The most captivating person Gabriel had met in a long time.  It had bothered Gabriel to no end after seeing them at Hazel’s.  Broom in hand, eyes guarded and still unsure.  Gabriel had attempted to soften his tone, trying to convey to them that he was not the enemy. Though he didn’t know if that was really something that could be achieved given that they had met in a cell not far from here.

But he wanted to. Oh did he want to.  The sheer amount of bravery that came with walking back to these caves today was a force that he did not often get to witness.  Normally, in the face of fear, most ran. Fear ruled many within the Night Market. But, they faced a prison that was designed to be an unbearable weight upon their shoulders. They had walked across the bridge and had followed him into this office and Gabriel felt himself feel a notch of surprise over these actions. Surprise and unabashed pride.  It was not many who had a sense of character pure enough to do what they had done.

“Hello?” Caliban waved a hand in front of him, snapping Gabriel’s gaze out of the brief reverie he had fallen within.

Lifting his chin, Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “Why are you really here?”

“I told you. Reese. Pissy. Sex is not working. Please fix it.”

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Gabriel set aside his parchment. “I will be going to miss Albright’s within the hour. Her and Mr. Next are getting the refugee’s settled. From there, there is a possibility that we might be able to cooperate with one another for information so the Velvet Guard can do their job.”

“You think they’re hiding things from you?”

“I work under the assumption that most people are hiding things from me,” Gabriel said.  Folding his hands together, he observed Caliban over the tops of his steepled fingers.  Whatever Reese saw in him, Gabriel did know. Nor did he wish to question it.  Gabriel’s only hope was that the man was happy after everything that had transpired.  If the conniving little bird man somehow did that for Reese, who was Gabriel to judge.  There wasn’t a lot of happiness to be had within the Night Market. When one found it, they needed to covet it.

Though Caliban was the sort that made that incredibly hard.

“You are dismissed,” Gabriel said when no further words were exchanged.

“Oh, come on, Gabe? Isn’t there anything you can give me here?  Something that will make him calm down before he goes on a murder spree throughout the docks?” Wildly gesticulating around him, Caliban was making no move to actually leave.  From experience, Gabriel knew these conversations could go on for hours.

“You can tell him that I have made the gates my own personal project. And, given that he is not one to want his identity known, perhaps he should let me do my work.”

Caliban thought about that for a minute before shaking his head. “Yeah. No. That’s not going to work. That sounds kind of like a threat and you know how he is with threats.”

“Just go, Caliban.  I have seen you locked in these cells far too often as of late.”

Caliban grinned. “Been some interesting people popping into these cells. Can you blame me?”

Gabriel bristled. “You are wasting valuable time and resources of the Guard.”

“You can afford it.”

Hoping to his feet, his oversized coat comically slouching across his shoulders, Caliban gestured to the mess of wrappers.  “You should eat, Warden. You’re looking thin.”

Gabriel watched him leave without a word, feeling the tightness in his chest.  He waited a long moment, until he was certain Caliban’s footsteps had danced him down the halls.  The man was no doubt searching for something specific but Gabriel had long ago turned a blind eye to his ministrations. For Reese, he had always told himself.  For Reese.

Standing, Gabriel stacked the papers to the side, knowing it would be a long night that the candles would burn here while he poured over forms that he had been neglecting during his busy schedule.  If he went without sleep this evening, he could maybe get caught up to a more manageable rate.

Grabbing the cloak he had so recently discarded, he clipped it under his chin, sheathing his sword.  To Ms. Albright’s then.  Perhaps, he could find some time to continue dinner if matters were not so pressing.