Gabriel - Post Chapter Twelve (Patreon)

“Do you think it’s possible though?”

“Is what possible?”

“For you to take the weekend off.”

Gabriel looked upwards, staring across the way at the person who sat across from him. They had surprised him once again with muffins made from Hazel’s kitchen and a warm thermos of tea.  The market had been abhorrently cold as of late and it was a gesture that he greatly appreciated. Then again, they had taken to coming to his office so frequently that he no longer considered it a gesture. It was a part of his routine.  A soft smile played at his lips at that.  When had it become routine to let someone in again? To allow his guard down enough to be taken care of. Just for a bit.  The very idea that Gabriel did not have to go home to an empty house, that his day was not consumed with the monotony of patrol and new recruits, filled him with a warm sense of comfort that he was simply not used to.  It was their smile, in the end.  Gabriel wanted to do whatever it took to keep that smile and jealousy guard it for his own. Including taking the time off he had been promising them for half a year.

“Yes,” he said softly, setting his quill aside. “I think I could take some time off.”

The look they gave him was one of pure adoration.  A pang of guilt shot through him as he remembered all the times he had declined this particular request. So many weekends had gone by with them following him on patrol. Dates had been made and canceled.  The status of the market had always been more important. Not any longer, however. Gabriel was making a point now to spend more with the people he cared for.  Life was far too hollow without their delicate beauty to light his way.

“Where would you like to go?” Getting up, he rounded the desk, coming to sit at the edge and stare down at them.  He was tempted to just call it now.  Take the rest of the week off and whisk them from the office towards the remote places of the market. Get a room somewhere and not leave for the first few days.  Take an evening stroll along a riverbank, perhaps.  Dinner. A show. All the things that couples should do and which Gabriel had completely forgotten about until food started appearing at his desk at a much more frequent rate.

“Anywhere,” they said. “As long as it’s with you.”

Reaching out, he moved to cup their cheek. To place his hand against the curve of their jaw, feeling the warmth of their skin beneath his palm. The door to the office burst open though, a nameless recruit searching him out with wide and uncertain eyes.

“Warden Caine, I am so sorry to disturb you. I know you just got back from patrol, but there’s a problem.”

Gabriel blinked.  Before him sat an empty chair.  Not even a memory to keep it warm.

It had been a week. One week since the lanterns had gone dark. Since the ballroom had erupted into complete destruction and he and Belladonna had tried to make it to the fountain.  It had been a week with no light to shine upon the streets. Without that soft laugh. Without the voice that he was afraid he was already forgetting.

“Warden Caine?”

Gabriel’s eyes snapped upwards.  There were so many new recruits now that Gabriel honestly couldn’t remember when he had arrived.  “Yes? What is it?” He was moving away from his desk, away from the chair that held no one.

“There’s been another outbreak,” the recruit said.  “We think it’s near the Spice District but no one is sure. The walls are rearranging themselves.”

Strapping his sword to him, Gabriel frowned. “What do you mean the walls are rearranging themselves?”

“We’ve been noticing the candles moving. They are being swallowed up and now we are starting to realize that the walls themselves are shifting. The alley that lead here is gone, sir, and there are four others in its place. People are getting lost within the market. They’re wandering home and finding that home has moved.”

He looked afraid.  The recruit couldn’t have been any older than twenty odd years and this was certainly not what he had signed up for.  Looking around, he seemed terrified of the prospect that he might not make it home that night. Lost not in the line of duty but because the world had been plunged into chaos and was clawing to right itself again.

Buttoning his coat, Gabriel placed a hand on the recruit's shoulder. “Take a break. I’ll go and inspect. You said I am needed in the Spice District?”

“Yes,” the recruit swallowed.  “There are some misplaced people there and the vendors are getting mad at the amount of food being stolen.”

Theft had been the main thing they had been dealing with the last week. That they knew of at least. But now, it seemed as if a new problem was arising. One that Gabriel had no idea how to address.

Leaving the recruit behind, he walked through the prison halls, the cells full to bursting at this point.  Frantic guards walked up and down, trying to grasp just what their job was now that the new decrees were in place but quickly crumbling in light of recent events.  Bursting from the prison walls and into the night air, Gabriel paused.  Screams had been coursing through the market. People calling for help as they were unable to navigate the dark. The lanterns swayed above, refusing to relight.  The world was now lost in a sea of candles, small flickering flames that acted as a guide and were so easily snuffed out.

Gabriel stood for a moment, utterly paralyzed. He could still see them. Lying on the ground, their chest ripped open with an eerie light glowing from them.  Their eyes had gone black before they closed. Their body limp.  Gabriel had tried to scoop them into his arms, but someone had held him back.  He didn’t even know who at this point. Just that someone had him by his shoulders and told him not to move. Not until the gate was closed.  The gate that was a yawing hole in their chest getting dimmer and dimmer until they were nothing but a sleeping form upon the ground.

The market had descended into chaos after that.  As the entire world blacked out, panic ensued. Gabriel hadn’t even gotten the chance to bury them.  He hadn’t visited their grave.  Honestly, he hadn’t left the office or slept either.  Part of him was hoping this was nothing more than a terrifying dream he would wake up from.

As a loud cry echoed through the cobblestone paths, he knew that he would not be so lucky. Why hadn’t he just taken time off for them? Why hand’t he whisked them away for a long weekend? Held them tighter.  Listened to them a little more. They never should have gone to the ball that night and it was a mistake that had cost all of them. They never should have trusted Milo Next.

Wiping the wetness from his cheeks, he walked across the stone bridge, feeling his heart beat at an unusual speed, his chest constricting, and his eyes casting a silver glow. He had not needed the candlelight that everyone was starting to carry.  The grace in his pocket was dimming but the grace from within was burning through him at an alarming speed. Stumbling, he caught himself on the stone pillar that marked the entrance to the prison gates.  Pain lashed through him, striking a wince across his normally placid features as a cold heat began burning from within. He could see the fault lines. Could see the cracks racing across him, peeking through with a silver glow that threatened to split him apart.

“Not now,” he growled to himself, flexing his hand and trying to shake it away.

The market needed him.  He didn’t have the luxury to acknowledge whatever was happening to his body. He certainly didn’t get the luxury to grieve.  He needed to continue on. He needed to do his job within the confines of a world that was slowly dying, protecting the people they had torn themselves apart to save.

And Gabriel. Gabriel would only occasionally remember the bright burning light that had graced his light for a time.  It was all he could do.  It was all that was allowed.  And only occasionally would he admonish himself for beginning to even hope that he was strong enough to keep them safe.