IceRi
Disclaimer: I don't own Van Helsing, or anything affiliated.
Summary: Gabriel had lived a very long time before losing his memories and working for the Vatican, so why would he stop living that way afterwards? A little insight to the Van Helsing of our day…
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Part One
The cars rushed by on the street by the coffee shop. Van Helsing stared blankly out the window at the puddles forming on the sidewalks of suburbia. His hands traced the handle of the coffee mug, the hot black substance untouched as it always was. He had been coming here every day for the past seven years. It soon would be time to move. To find a different city, and a different coffee shop. Before they noticed he hadn't aged a day since the first time he had come in, off of the busy street.
Life had only been kind to Gabriel for a short time after what he referred to as 'The Transylvanian Assignment', in his own mind. It wouldn't have mattered what he called it. There were only two of them left in the world that could possibly know what went on. One being himself, and the other being the top-secret monster, which he hadn't seen in at least fifty years now. Whether or not he lived still was beyond Gabriel's knowledge. Although, Gabriel may have received a call-in from the Knights of the Holy Order to retrieve his body if her were dead.
Yes, life had not been kind. Although he was the go-to guy in the rare event that a monster did pop up somewhere, they were rare. He hadn't dealt with anything for a very long time. In his life, he had seen colossal changes in the world. Trying to get his head around it was a daunting task, so he just accepted it, and tried to keep his mindset modern enough for this fast paced world.
Of course, he chose not to take in as many modern convieniences as he could. Van Helsing didn't drive a car, and he didn't own television or a cellular phone. He had thanked God on many an occasion that he couldn't remember anything before the winter of 1881.
Today, over this particular cup of coffee, he was wondering why he had ever accepted the leave of the Vatican. Why he had ever left Europe. The desire to lead a normal life had been strong, perhaps too strong. One of the people he had come to know as an aquaintance in this place sat down beside him, staring intently out of the rain soaked front window, as if looking for something.
"I don't know what interests you so much out there, Mr. Van Helsing. But it sure isn't something you haven't seen before, unless you're seeing something I'm not."
His lips turned upwards in a slight smile. The woman was at her happiest on the rainy days. She reminded him a lot of Carl, the friar who had been the closest thing to his friend back in the day, in her eccentricity. He blinked out of his deep thought, and looked over at her, committing her face to memory. When he left, he would never see her again, if all went as planned. It would be a lot like leaving Carl behind again. Only now he was accustomed to the dull pain of leaving without a trace, and leaving friends behind.
"Ren, I'm leaving town this afternoon." He declared slowly.
He never usually told anyone he was leaving. He left the surprises until the next day, when he failsafe routine was disrupted. But the woman, Ren, was again different from the others. She instead smiled, and opened her workbag, pulling out a business card, and scrawling a series of numbers onto the back, her home phone number. Sliding it across the table to him, she smiled, and raised her own cup of coffee in a toast.
"To a brighter future for Gabriel!" She said happily, and he nodded.
Raising his own mug, he tapped the side to hers and took a sip. Ii didn't taste as bad as he had remembered, but he returned it to its customary place on the table in any case.
"Oh, and call me whenever you get to where your going."
He picked the card up off of the surface, studying her neat and precise writing. Van Helsing's eyes slid from the card to the woman, before pocketing the paper. She gave him an indignant look and mock slapped him on the shoulder.
"Don't get any ideas, stupid."
She chuckled, and gave him another smile. He stood, and she extended her hand. Tentatively, he shook it, and she waved as he exited the shop, out into the rain. He didn't care too much about getting wet. Waiting at the stoplight to cross the street, he pulled out the card again. The walk light came on, and Gabriel went. On the sidewalk, a small rectangle of white lay by the edge of the road, the blue pen numbers smudging under the splattering of rain by a passing car, out of recognition.
Gabriel cast his eyes on the ground, walking slowly. Maybe he wasn't so used to the pain after all.
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