Marguerite refused to go home. She walked away from her school, splashing through puddles and treading across muddy pavement sullenly. She resolutely ignored the shrieked shouts of her step-sister echoing behind her; they'd fade soon enough. The flimsy uniform from the pretentious private school Jessica, her mom, forced her to go to barely provided cover from the wailing wind and drizzle that covered the city.
She hated New York; hated the pressing crowds, constant blaring noise, and rude people. She hated the towering buildings that pressed in on her, blocking the view of forests and land and life. New York was a bustling crowded port of death; nothing could sustain itself there for long without succumbing to the madness.
On top of that, she couldn't stand her step family. She couldn't deal with how Jessica simpered and fawned over her new big time lawyer husband, how she acted like the perfect trophy wife. She couldn't deal with her perfect step-sister and her straight brown hair and blue eyes and straight A's. She couldn't bear to go home and plaster on her wicket-stepdaughter act. She just wanted it all to go away. Jessica wouldn't let her move back in with Vati, because her new husband was so rich and wonderful for sending Marguerite to the wonderful catholic school.
A big part of Marguerite knew she wasn't fair to her step father; he really wasn't a bad guy. He tried his best to be fair between her and his own daughter, tried to keep Jessica from losing her temper and hitting Marguerite when her temper became too much. She just couldn't bring herself to like the man. Because without him, her Vati wouldn't be working two endless jobs to pay child support to a woman whose husband was rich enough to own his own house in New York City.
She wove through thick crowds mindlessly, fighting to make it up the street that lead to her favorite ice cream parlor. It was the coolest one in the city, the owner had taken an old world war era building and fixed it up to make it look exactly like an old drug store.
She looked over her shoulder every now and then for any sign that her step family knew where she was. Marguerite wasn't supposed to walk around by herself, but it was only a few blocks, and she had enough money to pay for the ice cream. She figured it would take a while for anyone to actually miss her anyway.
She opened the door, a warm blast of air shot against her, and she stumbled in contently. She looked around and froze, before walking to the counter, doing her best to ignore the monsters sitting in the corner booth. They were cloaked in black smoke, and what was visible through the swirling smoke was terrifying, her heart beat painfully in her chest as she kept wide brown eyes off them. To everyone else in the store they looked like a normal couple out on a date, Marguerite could see their disguise, but she could just as easily see right through it.
She chose the counter seat farthest away from the smoke couple, and pulled herself onto the scuffed silver stool. She ran her fingers over the worn counter, letting her nails and skin catch in the pits and grooves that had made their home in the wood over the endless years. She marveled over the fact that someone had sat in this very spot a hundred years ago, and there would probably be someone in the exact same spot after she was gone.
She pushed damp curls out if her eyes, and extracted a wad of bills from her pocket. She counted them out carefully, the green bills crinkled against her skin in a weak greeting.
A small bowl of strawberry ice cream slid in front of her smoothly. She gave the innocent glass a confused look.
"You looked like you needed a pick-up kiddo."
A jolt of shock flooded through her, freezing her solid. She knew that voice, hadn't heard it in five years, but she knew that voice. She'd all but convinced herself that the night in the field had been a dream. She willed herself to look up, brown eyes met amber, "…Gabriel?"
"Long time no see little Rita."
"Marguerite," she corrected him automatically, too many people tried to shorten her name, become familiar with her, but she had no inclination to grant them the privilege, "What are you doing here?" Not that she wasn't completely thrilled, but she hadn't seen any sign of him for five years.
"Like I said," he leaned toward her, forearms resting on the counter inches from hers, "you looked like you could use a pick-up." He tousled her wild, auburn curls affectionately, laughing when she gave a half-hearted attempt at batting his hand away, "Why are you here by yourself Rita? Pretty dangerous in cities like this."
She gave a nonchalant shrug, not really caring for the question, "I didn't want to go home."
A small frown settled over his face, "Why not? Home is where the heart is after all," he stole a spoonful of her ice cream and stuck his tongue out at her indignant expression, delighting in her small giggle.
"Home is where my Vati is, I can't see him until summer," she ate some of the ice cream, "and I didn't want to put up with Jessica."
"You call your mom by her first name." She could hear a hint of disapproval thread into his voice, and she couldn't help but resent it. What did he know? He was a man she'd met once five years ago, she hadn't seen him since, he couldn't possibly understand.
"I found out what cheating is," she gave him a bitter smile, face alight with knowledge that no ten year old should possess, "and who she was cheating with."
He took in the expression on her face before letting out a pained sigh; no doubt it had been a messy divorce with years' worth of custody battles, "Oh kiddo…" Gabriel gave her a weak smile and brushed curls out of her face, "adults do silly things Rita." He watched her mournfully, upset over the adult eyes staring out at him from a child's face, "I bet you give them hell."
Marguerite nodded and opened her mouth to speak when the shadow couple walked up to the counter. She froze, their presence making her want to bolt, but she forced herself to eat the ice cream Gabriel had given her. It stuck to her throat in a sticky mess, made her gag silently. The couple left and Marguerite gave a sigh of relief, and looked up to see Gabriel studding her intently, "What?" She hadn't done anything wrong, she'd stayed still and continued on like nothing had happened, and he couldn't possibly know what was wrong.
"You can see them?" He bit back a curse at her tiny nod, taking in her pale face before pressing on anyway, "Can you see me?"
Marguerite nodded and focused on him quietly, there behind Gabriel stood the creature. It was no less magnificent and breathtaking than the night she had first seen it, but she couldn't see Gabriel. He must be human, and the creature must be following him. The creature had the same intense expression on its bone white face as Gabriel had on his, and she thought it was odd that the creature echoed Gabriel's movements… then it clicked into place, Gabriel was the creature. She stared at him in awe, "That's you," she pointed to the creature, ignoring the headache that was forming between her eyes. Her mind couldn't get over the fact that something that big was fitting into such a tiny little store without breaking it.
Gabriel reached over and grasped her hand gently, causing her concentration to break and the creature to fade from sight, "That's me kiddo," he looked into wide brown eyes and sighed, "pretty terrifying I know,"
"Du bist perfekt," (A/N: You're perfect) She couldn't begin to imagine why he thought he was scary. The shadow monsters terrified her, but Gabriel soothed her. Even though he was alien to her, he seemed completely natural.
He looked at her wondrously, as if he were seeing her for the first time, then strode out from behind the counter and held out his hand, "Let's go," he smiled widely, "I'll take you home after."
She didn't even pause to think, just nodded and took his hand letting him pull her down from the stool she was perched on. She followed him out into the dreary, dark, drizzly street. Pressed close to him, let him put a strong arm around her and pull her close to his side, soaking her in warmth. The intoxicating smell of candy, and something she could only describe as lighting surrounded her.
They walked down the street past her school, and she smiled impishly and waved at one of the old nuns who taught her English class. She laughed at the outraged, dumbfounded look on the old woman's face at seeing a much older, strange man walking with his arm around her. Marguerite knew the second they left eye shot the nun would race inside to call Jessica, Marguerite was going to be in so much trouble, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She hadn't felt this happy and child like outside of her summers with Vati for years, she was going to bask in the feeling.
"Trouble shouldn't make you this happy Rita," he laughed at her annoyed expression at the nick name, "get used to it kiddo, the nickname has stuck."
Marguerite nodded grudgingly, "Fine by me feathers."
Gabriel gave her a blank look, "…Feathers…" he pulled her into an empty alley and shook his head, "remind me to teach you how to insult people kid."
He turned her to face him, and placed two warm fingers in the center of her forehead. Suddenly they were gone. The air compressed around her, she couldn't breathe, her chest burned like fire. She could see sounds and hear colours.
Then it all stopped, Marguerite fell to her knees in the middle of a grassy field, gasping for air. Her head was pounding and her stomach churned painfully, whatever he had done…she didn't like it. She felt Gabriel's warm palm rest between her shoulders lightly, and the pain fled.
Her vision cleared and she looked around curiously. Trees circled a grassy field full of narcissus flowers, the trees swayed in the cooling autumn air that surrounded her in a familiar caress. This was home. She knew without a doubt that Vati's house was just down the gravelly path in front of her, knew the steps and rocks that lead there better than she knew her own skin. She could be at Vati's in five minutes if she ran.
"How would you explain being here kiddo?"
"I," she gave the path a disappointed frown and looked up at Gabriel, "how did we get here?" Because Marguerite was pretty sure they didn't board a bus.
"We flew," he plopped down on the earth next to her and tilted his head up toward the sun. The golden rays played in his honey hair and made his amber eyes glow, "I figured you wouldn't mind talking here."
"Talking?"
"You're special kiddo," he pulled a loli-pop out of the air and delighted in the way she took it without question. He hadn't had that type of trust since he told Mary about Jesus. He couldn't help but crave the small bond that was forming between them, growing there slowly and innocently. Gabriel knew this little girl was special in ways he hadn't quite puzzled out yet, but he was going to be the best friend she ever had, "not just anyone can see me Rita."
She looked at him for a moment then at the ground; her shoulders seemed to curl in on her, "So that really happened?" Brown eyes lifted to his and there was desperation in their depths, "What do you look like? Tell me!" The demand left her lips easily and she waited desperately for him to answer her. She needed confirmation.
"Well for starters," he watched her cautiously, unsure of why her outburst had happened. She'd been okay then suddenly not, "I have six arms and wings because you know," he shot her a playful smile trying to ease the tension, "why not? I'm as big as one of the skyscrapers in New York, and I have a halo. I mean I'm pretty freaky." The desperation faded from her eyes leaving them hollow and emotionless, which worried him much more than the desperation, "Why'd you ask kiddo?"
Marguerite's hand slowly crept toward her pocket; she pulled out a small bottle of pills. Marguerite held it in the air a moment, before letting the bright orange bottle fall to the grass with a small clang, the bottle stood out harshly against the swaying grass, opening a chasm between them.
"I didn't take them today," she looked at the bottle silently, "they make my head feel fuzzy. My step sister says I'm crazy," tears burned her eyes, "and I thought so too." Silence curled around them thickly, and she swallowed around the burning lump in her throat, "Because no one else can see the things I can. Jessica made me go to a doctor," it had been terrifying. They'd put her in a white room and left her there alone, she hadn't been allowed to leave until she promised the doctors that she'd take the funny pills they gave her. Jessica would stand over her in the morning to make sure she took them. Today she'd forgotten, and for the first time in months Marguerite walked around without a haze hanging over her.
Marguerite finally found the courage to look at Gabriel and was stunned. He was surrounded by a thick, pulsing light and his wings were unfurled to their full length, filling up the area around them. They hummed with electricity, golden feathers sharp and flared; more like actual stone than feather. There was an intense look of righteous anger etched across his face, giving him an inhuman presence. She was struck dumb by the sight of him, suddenly realizing that the man beside her wasn't human at all.
She had seen this before, sights of righteous glory, and wrathful anger. They were etched into her mind from an early age, drawn into the worn and tattered pages of Vati's family bible. "You're an angel," he looked at her oddly, causing her to frown, something in the back of her mind screamed that she was missing something important. Something that she should know, his name rang in her head softly, Gabriel…Gabriel… "An archangel." the words left her in a breathless rush, and she looked at him in awe, "You're an archangel."
The rage left his face, and he felt a sharp stab of disappointment in his chest. Damn kid was smart, and now that she knew, everything would change. No one treated him the same once they found out that he was an angel. She'd grovel and pray; the easy banter and comforting bond between them would unravel and fray to nothing.
He looked so upset that she knew, was watching her like he expected her to grovel. She looked at him wordlessly for a few moments, mulling over the information in her head. It didn't change anything, really if she thought hard enough it didn't mean anything either. Just that he could kill her with a thought if he wanted to, and he didn't seem to want to, so maybe it was ok if she just treated him like…Gabriel. The man who made Gustaf dance; the man who'd transported her to the field outside of her Vati's home to make her comfortable. He didn't act like an all powerful archangel, so why should she treat him like one? Especially since it seemed like he didn't want her to.
"You're pretty short for an archangel," she smiled at the dumbfounded expression smacked across his face, "I'm Lutheran, we don't pray to angels, and we don't really focus on them," she shrugged lightly, "so you're cool, but not that cool."
She let out a small squeak when Gabriel, moving faster than she could see, picked her up in strong arms and held her tight. His wings closed around them, plunging them into darkness and blocking them out from the rest of the world. She felt him bury his face in her hair gently, and his breath brush across her scalp harshly like he was holding in tears. She wrapped her little arms around him happily and snuggled into his warmth.
"Thank you Marguerite."
She smiled warmly and enjoyed the feeling of being held. She knew without a doubt, archangel or not, nothing could harm her when Gabriel held her. He held her for a long time, and then set her down carefully.
They sat together quietly for a few moments before Gabriel picked up the pills and made them disappear, "You don't need those Rita."
"What am I going to tell Jessica?" There was no way Jessica was going to let her go without the pills. She'd have her put back in the hospital with the white rooms if she didn't take them. The fear was etched plainly on her face and she looked at Gabriel pleadingly, "I can't just tell her they're gone."
"Don't worry about it; I'll take care of it."
She trusted that he would too. She knew that somehow he'd keep Jessica from noticing the pills were mysteriously missing.
"We do however," he pulled a bag of gummy bears out of his green jacket and began to munch on them, "need to talk about me."
She stole some gummy bears and munched happily, "You? What about you?"
"More what we shouldn't say about me," he subtly tilted the bag her way, knowing that the bag would never run out of Gummies, "You can't tell people I'm an archangel. If they ask, I'm Loki."
"Loki," he mind flashed to comic books and Norse gods, "you mean like the Norse god of mischief and lies?"
"The one and only," he smiled shallowly, "that's who I am kiddo, and if for any reason someone…odd should ask you that's your answer, it'll keep you safe until I can get to you."
"Why would anyone ask?"
He frowned thoughtfully, "They shouldn't, but I know some people who would be pretty pissed if they found out."
"How are you a god and an angel," she gave him a confused look, because it didn't make sense that he could work for God and be a god.
"I'm technically not a god kiddo," he wasn't really, just masquerading as one, "it's my own little form of witness protection."
"So you have kids?" she remembered her teacher talking about them once, through a long rant about pagans and the evils of joining them and blah blah. Just one of the many joys of going to catholic school, she wanted to learn without the religious context, Marguerite was happy to believe in God, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy myths without being told constantly they were sinful and wrong.
"I have three actually," he was rather glad that she was sticking to easy topics. The kid didn't miss much and he knew it was only a matter of time before they moved on to harder subjects, "My two sons Fenrir and Jörmungandr, and then my daughter Hel."
She played with her curls absently, thinking through her next question carefully, "Why do you need protection?" What could possibly hurt an archangel so badly that he needed to hide who he was? Marguerite couldn't think of anything scary enough to hurt an archangel, except maybe God, but she was pretty sure that if God wanted Gabriel dead he'd be dead.
"That," he gave her a forced smile, on to the big kid topics, "is a good question. I need protection from the other angels, they wouldn't exactly be pleased to see me kiddo." Wasn't that the understatement of the millennia? They'd do their best to rip him apart. It wouldn't work, nothing short of Michael or Lucifer had enough power and skill to actually kill him, but if he fought his brothers and sisters they would fall by his hand, no matter how much he wanted his freedom, he couldn't bear the idea of killing any of them.
"But you're an angel too," why would angels want to kill each other? It didn't make sense, she knew they were warriors, they fought together. How could you kill someone you fought with?
Gabriel sighed and played with her unruly curls, "I left heaven after the war, really after my brother fell. It was a pretty bad time for angels, and I just…wanted it to end kiddo. I couldn't bear to be around all the violence and death, especially since we should have been watching after the younger angels, not making them choose sides. They're all my family and we were killing each other."
He'd silently chosen a side though; he'd just never acted on it. In his mind Lucifer had to be right, because their father had abandoned them in favor of these lesser creatures. He'd firmly believed that humans had no purpose, but he'd slowly been proven wrong. They were so fallen and flawed, but most of them worked so hard to be better, cared so much about each other. They felt emotions so deeply for creatures with such short lives, in his many years on earth he'd come to understand why they were his Father's favorite creation. The idea that he once would have helped his brother kill humans, kill Marguerite; with her endless questions and bright soul sickened him. As much as Gabriel loved his brother, he could never harm innocent children.
Marguerite watched him quietly, processing the pain in his voice easily. Pain recognized pain, and she understood family fights all too well. She tried to puzzle out what he meant, because a lot of angels had fallen. Her father's voice curled in her head softly, "How you are fallen from Heaven oh Lucifer, son of the morning!" The idea that Gabriel was Lucifer's brother filled her with a slight sense of dread. "You mean the devil don't you?"
"Please don't…" Gabriel looked down and took a shaky breath, "he has a name kiddo."
The name terrified her, represented things she didn't like to think about, things that filled her nightmares, but Gabriel had already done so much for her, and it was just a name after all. "Lucifer then, you're talking about Lucifer."
He gave an almost unnoticeable nod, "I know he's evil, and he's done some pretty messed up shit," he couldn't even bring himself to feel bad for swearing in front of a child, "but he's my brother. I don't like all the names attached to him, I know he deserves them, but I can't hate my big brother Rita," and he really couldn't. He'd tried with all his might over the years to find some grain of hate inside him for Lucifer, but all he felt was disappointment.
"I don't want you to hate your brother," she hated Jessica, she was ashamed to admit it to herself but she did. A small part deep inside her couldn't stand Jessica's existence anymore. She wasn't the mother Marguerite had loved, wasn't the woman who picked her up from school; made her cookies and tucked her in at night. The Jessica she knew was the woman who'd left her Vati; loved her step daughter more than the daughter she had given birth to; this woman was the one who called her crazy, and forced odd pills down her throat. Marguerite was never at peace with the small part of her that hated her own mother, knew it was wrong to hate someone you should love so intensely, but she couldn't stop herself, "It's no fun to hate your family."
"What a sad pair we make kiddo," he wrapped an arm around her softly and pulled her close to him, "you're ten Marguerite, you shouldn't understand any of this."
She snuggled closer to him, buried her face in his coarse, green jacket, "I haven't felt ten for a long time Gabriel."
"You know this isn't how I wanted this conversation to go," he rubbed her back soothingly, she was so strong, but so fragile. He wondered how long she could hold on like this until she broke to pieces, "this was going to be a fun conversation."
"I had fun."
"You have a really messed up definition of fun kid."
Marguerite laughed, "I got gummy bears. And you're my favorite comic book character."
"Loki? Seriously? You went for the villain," he ruffled her hair, "should have gone for Thor Rita. He's much more reliable."
"So? He's boring. Loki can do magic, like you did with my bear." she looked at him and smiled, "So Loki is obviously cooler."
"I move a bear and suddenly I'm god," he smirked, "literally," he stood and pulled her up brushing dirt and grass from her outfit gently, "you're easy to please."
She watched the sun sink over the horizon slowly, it was already past dark in New York, and Jessica was going to kill her slowly and painfully. She didn't want to go back, wanted to walk down the worn path to Vati's house and stay there until Jessica forgot about her.
"Time to go kiddo," he gave her a sympathetic look and kneeled down so they were eye to eye, "I know you don't want to, but that's part of life. You have to do things you don't want to because it's expected of you," not that he was a prime example seeing how he'd run away, "I'm gonna see you a lot okay?" The radiant smile that lit up her face warmed him inside, "I can't be around all the time though, so you have to keep yourself safe and happy Marguerite." She was heading down a road he didn't want her to go down. She was already so unhappy, and the constant trouble she was in just added to that misery. It was a never ending cycle and if he didn't stop it, one day she'd end up at the end of a rope of her own making.
"Why can't you just make it different? You could make it so I live with Vati and Jessica can't see me. You could change everything." She wanted him to so badly, wanted to go back to being a family with Vati; she could even take back all the nights of yelling if they just stayed together.
"Here's the thing," he hated denying her anything, and that worried him. He should have no problem saying no to this little girl. "Getting what you want all the time takes all the joy out of life. Sometimes you have to fight for your happiness, and when you find it, it's so much more precious than what's handed to you." He'd learned that the hard way over the years, done terrible things that made his grace pulse with anger, but when he was happy it was precious.
She looked at him sullenly, not wanting to admit that he was right. She was always alone, always ostracized and left out. For two months of the year she was remembered, but for the rest of the time it was never ending winter. Sometimes she got so lonely that she couldn't do anything, just curled up in her bed and stared at the walls of the house she hated so much. Sometimes Jessica would slap her too hard, and she'd stay home for a day so that the bruise faded and the cut cleared up. Sometimes Marguerite just needed someone else there with her, "What if I need you?"
"Then you pray Marguerite."
The air compressed around her again, stealing the words from her mouth, this time around flying seemed easier. She still heard colours and saw sounds, but it was beautiful in a chaotic way. This time she didn't want it to end so quickly, wanted to study the chaos surrounding her.
She landed in front of her house alone. Darkness curled around her and the cold New York breeze nipped at her skin harshly. She walked toward the door slowly, terrified of what she'd find inside. Her hand paused above the doorknob, and she held it there suspended in air, wondering if she would actually summon up enough nerve to walk inside. She cracked the door open slowly, and crept inside silently.
She shoved her hands into her pockets, and was surprised at the hard feeling of a loli-pop meeting her palm softly. She smiled slowly, delighted to have even a little piece of candy that proved that Gabriel had been with her.
"Mom! Dad! She's home!"
Marguerite turned and faced the stairs, waited for Jessica and her step-father to run down. The content smile never left her face, even when the yelling and hitting started she just clutched the loli-pop in her pocket tightly. Somehow she knew everything would be okay. Only because Gabriel had said so.
(A/N): So this www dot deviantart dot com/art/True-Form-Gabriel-333526186 is what I based Gabriel's true form off of. This is NOT my art though, and I'm not taking credit for it. I just thought is was the coolest most bad ass true form I had seen for Gabriel so far.