Where the Lines Overlap
;;;
Chapter 7: Oh, Calamity
Gabriel sat on the couch beside Ashleigh's armchair, the aforementioned girl draped across the chair and breathing in little puffs. Her expression was soft and peaceful when she slept, he noticed fondly. When she rolled over, he could see the dark circles under her eyes and had to wonder what was keeping her awake. Was it her job? His brows pushed together thoughtfully. During his time among the humans, the angel had discovered that work happened to be a big source of stress. He had almost wanted to tell them to relax and take some time to themselves, but Gabriel knew what it was like to want to impress a boss or… a father.
They had gotten back from the ice cream parlor a few hours ago and had spent time on Ashleigh's couch eating marshmallows (well, he had been the one on the couch and eating marshmallows. Ashleigh had just kicked her shoes off and curled up in an armchair) and watching movies, mostly in silence. Ashleigh had been quiet and pensive ever since they got back and simply to break the horrible thick silence, Gabriel had turned on the TV. Keeping his gaze on the screen, he'd occasionally looked over at her. He didn't like the way the dark and brooding expression on her face turned the corners of her mouth down and made her eyes glassy. But Gabriel knew what she was mulling over.
Yes, Gabriel knew that Kali had paid a special little visit to Ashleigh, warning her to back off or else. Kali had no idea that he had been listening, but the influence of her magic barely affected his. It had been necessary to pretend that he was frozen because otherwise Kali would begin to suspect something and millennia of pretending to be a pagan would be undone.
He had also been curious as to what Kali of all people had possibly wanted with Ashleigh but then he understood. Kali was jealous of Ashleigh. Kali, the Hindu goddess and self-proclaimed 'Destroyer' was jealous of a human. A faint humored smile tugged at his mouth. Gabriel figured that it irked her a lot more than she let on and he was left to wonder why she was jealous.
In their dysfunctional relationship, Gabriel had often felt like he was the one keeping it afloat. When they had first met, Kali was like an inferno and he had been a bush fire left in her wake, enraptured by her. Even though as an archangel, his hatred of the pagan gods – imposters of his father, the only true God – had been hammered into him since he had begun to exist, Kali had been charismatic. And something about her made had him long for her approval. Maybe it had been her large dark eyes, maybe her coy smirks or her aloof demeanor. Truthfully, he didn't know what it had been but he had always felt like he had been more interested in keeping the relationship afloat than she was. But once Kali had something, she didn't quite appreciate it until it was far out of her reach. Gabriel couldn't quite blame her for the attitude – she was one of the more powerful pagan gods so it must have come naturally. Being in her presence was like standing near a fire on a cold winter's night – warm and soothing if you kept at a safe distance.
It had been exceptionally hard to remain quiet during the conversation and shame flickered in the back of his mind – eavesdropping probably wouldn't go over with Ashleigh. Especially since she clearly valued her privacy. As soon as Kali had walked through the door of the room, he had nearly dropped his head down on the table and groaned with frustration. Of course it would be that Kali would walk on in just when he and Ashleigh were finally starting to be okay again.
Ashleigh's cluelessness when it came to Kali's temper had made him snort silently – especially when she'd told Kali to pick up a copy of Cosmo for relationship advice. From his peripheral vision, he'd seen Kali outwardly unaffected but inwardly seething with irritation. He had originally wanted to intervene but decided that he should let her handle the goddess herself. Kali wouldn't dare touch her if Ashleigh was protected by him… right? But Kali didn't really have any boundaries when it came to that sort of stuff.
Gabriel had been spending a lot of time with Ashleigh, he would concede. But not even he knew why they were drawn together. There was something odd about Ashleigh, something that differentiated her from the other humans and he couldn't quite understand what it was. He just felt… like he needed to be near her. Protective, you could say. But glancing over at her sleeping form, fondness filled him and he pushed her blonde hair off her face. Guilt filled him all of a sudden at her peaceful, almost childish expression. He could tell that she trusted him and twice he had let her down. Truthfully, Gabriel was happy that the earlier fight had been resolved because being away from her had made him uneasy. While he was away from her, her guilt had played over and over again in his head – whatever she was feeling had spiked through his thoughts. It had taken him a little while to understand what was happening but he had understood after he had left Kali.
And now came the part that he really didn't want to think about. Removing her memories. It was a cowardly, deceitful thing to do but in his mind? Absolutely necessary. As soon as she had been cornered by the demon, he had felt it from halfway across the globe, this frantic pulse of fear and a call of help me that had rattled his thoughts and all he could think was that he needed to get to her – now. He had been with Kali when he disappeared and her affronted, offended expression when he flickered out of existence had done nothing to make him want to stay.
Inexplicably, when he had landed, his angelic form shone through his vessel and he had called out to Ashleigh in his true voice. She had been propped up against the wall like a rag doll, broken and bloodied. Rage had filled him again at the sight and now that there was no reason to hide his true form, Gabriel let his wings extend to their full span and light, pure and blinding filled the room. The demon had been smote in seconds but the feeling of stretching his wings had surpassed all others, so he reveled in the feeling of soaring again.
But then he felt someone's awestruck gaze on the feathery extensions and fear had shot through him. No. No. Nobody could know about his wings, it was too dangerous. Dread spiked through him as he panicked – what if Ashleigh found out who he was? And then Kali? Would he have to go back to Heaven? It wasn't home, not anymore. A sick feeling settled in the back of his stomach and he swallowed shakily. No, he wasn't ever going back to Heaven, not after Lucifer. Not able to think rationally, he managed an apology to her, hating having to take her memories and invade her mind again and pressed his fingers to her forehead. Her body slumped forwards into him and Gabriel caught her, scooping up her limp body and telling how sorry he was over and over again.
Feeling horribly guilty but knowing there was no way he could give Ashleigh her memories back and expect her to trust him again, he stood up and got off the couch, needing a change of scenery but also not wanting to stray too far. The colors of the TV flashed in the background and the dull noise buzzed in the back of the room. With one last glance at her sleeping form, he made his way quietly out of her living room and into her room. Ashleigh had mentioned something about art when they were in Venice and had intrigued him. It was relaxing to her and he thought that maybe if he displayed interest in it, then she'd open up more to him again.
He was still confused by the attachment he had to her - she could see his wings, for crying out loud. He felt panicked confusion flash through his thoughts and he sighed out loud. Who was she to do this to him? What did this mean for him? Gabriel was an angel and from what little he remembered of Heaven, after cutting himself off from the Host for so long, that relationships that were more than strictly professional between humans and angels were considered a taboo and already he felt a sort of camaraderie with her, a fierce protectiveness and a deep understanding that confounded him beyond belief.
Gabriel remembered seeing a sketchbook lying on her desk haphazardly. His brows pushed together in confusion and he cocked his head. On the wooden surface he could see pens and pencils, erasers and rulers but no black sketchbook. Had she put it away somewhere? It had been on the desk where he'd idly flipped through the first few pages, covered in pencil markings. Gabriel hadn't been able to deny that she had talent – especially when it came to people. He stepped back and scanned his gaze down the shelf. There it was. The black corner of a book poked out of the bottom drawer and he stooped down, easing the drawer open and retrieving the book. Keeping a mindful eye on the door, he sat down in the chair and propped the book open, flipping to where he last was.
As he turned each page carefully, he saw pictures of flowers, of children and of castles, all carefully sketched with lead pencil. Ashleigh was an artist, he smiled fondly. But the fond smile soon dropped when he flipped the next page over, curious to figure out why he could feel such harsh, indented bumps on the page – what had she been drawing that had inspired so much rage? Gabriel nearly dropped the book in response. Large black eyes stared back at him and she had written around it… an exorcism?
How did she know this? Latin was a dead language and Gabriel knew that Ashleigh wasn't a hunter. Frantically searching for answers, he flipped to the next page and swallowed hard. Paradise will be reclaimed, the page proclaimed in large, spiky handwriting. A drawing of a pair of wide eyes glistening with tears took up most of the bottom half of the page, a drawing of a hand with a… necklace dangling from the fingers. There was an angel banishing sigil drawn on the top right corner and he rolled his lip between his teeth in response. The centre piece was a figure attached to chains and standing over him, a dark faceless man flashed a white smile and a silver knife dripping with blood glinted.
Sickened and worried for her, Gabriel shut the book and pushed it as far away from him as possible. What was happening? How did she know all of this? The exorcisms, the sigils… what was she? Who was she? He shoved the book back in the drawer and blinked. His head panged sharply and the reminder that he should know this flashed in his mind. How?
Was she related to his past in Heaven, was she a descendant of a former vessel of his? His present as a Norse god, maybe she was some kind of goddess herself? Suddenly, a loud terrified scream ripped from someone's throat, pulling him from his thoughts and he jumped – Ashleigh. Nearly knocking the chair over to get to the lounge, Gabriel darted to the armchair she was slumped in.
She was staring into space, her breathing shallow and panicky and she was crying silently. He sat beside her quietly, not saying anything, not touching her, except for the occasional knocking of their knees. Ashleigh furiously wiped her eyes and looked up at him, eyes wild and frantic. Her hands shook and she shoved them in her pockets, fishing around for something. "Sketchbook, now." she managed frantically, flying off the handle completely. and jolting against him. She shot up quickly and scanned the room with jerky movements, her blonde hair flying out in a pale cloud behind her.
Gabriel blinked up at her, confused and worried at why she was so terrified. "Ash-"
"No, no! I-I need it –" she broke off all of a sudden, eyes red with tears, her voice cracking and hoarse and he could see angry red marks on her palms where her nails had dug into her skin. Without warning, the girl stormed past him in a half-jog, her footsteps echoing loudly in the silent apartment. He followed her footsteps to her room, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Gabriel didn't know how he was supposed to make her feel better but he knew bringing up the disturbing images in her sketchbook wouldn't do much. Feeling apprehensive, he lingered by the door as she bent down to the cupboard beside her desk and literally threw everything out of the bottom drawer in her crazed search for the book.
"Shit," she muttered, tossing aside a red pencil case. "Shit shit – did you touch it!?" Suddenly Ashleigh whipped around with a panicked edge to her expression. She jabbed an accusing finger at him and stood up slowly. "Did you touch it?" This time the question was repeated with a quiet sort of barely restrained calm. But then she crumpled again, sinking to the floor and holding onto her head and crying out. "Crap – it hurts, no no no."
"Ashleigh?" Gabriel offered a hand out to her. Fear shot through him at her terrified expression and alarm threaded through her tone when she mentioned the sketchbook.
Ashleigh pulled herself up on shaky legs, her blonde hair glinting in the faint light coming from the lamp and her eyes were wide and dark with terror. Spinning around on her bare feet to search her desk with frantic eyes, she let out a little noise of relief upon finding the book and pushed everything else off the desk. It all crashed down on the floor beside her. Her hands fumbled with the cap of a black pen and she quickly put the ballpoint to paper, drawing with long hard strokes and nearly ripping the pages with her haste.
As he neared her warily, hand still held out to her in a gesture of peace, he could see that her eyes were squeezed closed and she was clenching her teeth tightly, unable to see what she was drawing. Her hand seemed to be moving of its own accord and a little pained sound escaped her mouth, her left hand pressing against her temple. Not sure that he even wanted to see what she was drawing, Gabriel silently watched as her hand moved in jerky, sharp motions. He saw the beginnings of what looked like a pair of eyes. A knife engraved with symbols on it. A crown made of thorns and coated in blood.
After she'd finished and her hand went slack, Ashleigh opened her eyes carefully. Gabriel watched her swallow without saying a word. Lifting the book up, she gave a little chuckle, devoid of any humor. "Fuck," she sobbed and dropped the book back on the desk, where it clattered loudly and flipped to a different page of equally disturbing images. Leaning forwards on her desk, propped up by her arms, her messy blonde hair acted as a curtain that shielded her expression from him and he gingerly placed a hand on her back, rubbing in light circles. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed, her head hanging down and in the dim light, he could see small tears wet the desk and he realized that he didn't like her being sad.
It made him feel crappy too – and abruptly he wondered if it was because of this weird bond they shared. More important, however was what she was crying about. His hand still on her back, he led her out of her bedroom and sat her down on the couch, her sketchbook clenched tightly in his hand. Sitting across from her, Gabriel stowed all of his emotions and he asked softly, not accusingly, "Are you drawing what you're dreaming?" At her unwilling nod, he pressed further, "When were you gonna tell me?"
"… I wasn't." she said and her eyes were rimmed with red and her tone guarded, her face slowly becoming stony and closed off. "It's not exactly something I'm gonna bring up in casual conversations."
"Ash." Gabriel felt awful and he reached out to touch her, let her know that it was going to be okay. The angel tried to sit closer and put his arm around her shoulders but she unexpectedly shoved him away. Her expression becoming hostile, the girl jerked away from him and stood up on wobbly legs, eyes glittering.
Angry tears glimmering in her eyes, she snapped, "You know what? Don't look at me like that."
Confused beyond belief, he blinked. "Like what?"
"Like that!" she gestured at him with an accusing finger. "Like you're fucking sorry for me – well, you know what, Loki? I'm fine. I don't need you looking at me like I'm crazy or something – just don't, okay?" she exploded furiously, her whole body shaking with the emotions she was bottling up. Her livid eyes glimmered in the dim lighting in the lounge room. He couldn't find it in him to feel upset or angry by what she said, all he could feel was sorrow on her behalf and helplessness on his own. What was he supposed to do about this? Gabriel looked up at her imploringly.
"Come on," he said after a moment of thought. "You want a coffee? You're shivering." Avoiding her outburst and hiding the worry he felt for her seemed like the right way to go about the situation. Gabriel remembered reading somewhere that it was sometimes nobler to ignore someone's tears and pretend that everything was normal as not to embarrass them.
Her eyes registered faint surprise at his reaction to her anger. Trembling fingers tucked her hair behind her ears as she nodded reluctantly. "T-that sounds nice."
"What do you want? Milk, sugar…?" he pressed further. Hiding the anxiety he was feeling on her behalf, Gabriel raised his eyebrows expectantly.
"One sugar and some milk." she answered, oddly quiet and stoic now. Following her gaze down to her palms where she was gently pulling at the red nail marks, Gabriel swallowed hard. "Thanks," Ashleigh managed, still looking at her hands. "For everything." When she lifted her head up slowly to meet his gaze, he could see genuine gratitude in her shining eyes. Rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms and pushing the strap of her tank top back up over her shoulders, Ashleigh fumbled for her jacket.
"I'll be back in a minute. Just… try to stay awake." he offered comfortingly as he ruffled her hair.
;;;
Frankly, Ashleigh couldn't have thought of anything worse that could have happened to her. Hell, she preferred being pushed into a canal over this. Screwing her eyes closed, she wished she could just sink into the floor already and never come out. This was probably the last thing she expected to happen. She'd tried so damn hard not to fall asleep, but honestly, she wasn't even sure why she hadn't wanted Loki to know about her nightmares.
It just wasn't something she'd advertise to people and then watching him walk through her kitchen door, she felt completely pathetic. Great. Now he thought she was psychotic or delusional. Why did she even care? It wasn't like he was her best friend that she'd known forever or something like that. But for some reason she cared what he thought of her and the want to maintain a good image was horrible. Curling into a small ball, huddled under her jacket, she buried her face in the couch pillows and tried desperately to think of something, anything else than what she'd been dreaming of.
All she had heard throughout her dream was paradise shall be reclaimed. Repeated over and over again in deep, resonant tones, the phrase seemed to be seared into her mind – making it all she could think about. She remembered a bloody crown of thorns and thick rich blood - darker than what she would have expected human blood to look like - dripping from someone's lips and staining their teeth crimson red. She saw a knife, glinting and sharp and shivered, knowing that this knife was special.
What did this even mean? Groaning aloud, she thrust her hands into her hair and stared unseeingly at her knees. How was she going to figure this out? That train of thought was interrupted by Loki returning with a steaming mug in each hand and he took a long sip from one and nodded, "Yeah. That one's definitely mine," he said, gesturing to the mug he'd just drunk from thoughtfully. Handing her the other one, he reclaimed his seat next to her.
She had to stifle a snort at the absurdity of the situation: a Norse god was making her coffee to help her recover from traumatizing and sadistic dreams. Oh. And there was also the fact that she was being 'watched' by a Hindu goddess (who had also asked for relationship advice). Honestly, she wasn't sure what to think about that. There was nothing for Kali to be jealous of. Ashleigh was a human, there was no way she could compete, not that she really even understood what she was competing for anyways.
His eyebrows raised speculatively. "What are you laughing about?" Loki looked a little relieved at her slight change in mood.
Gesturing vaguely at nothing in particular, she sighed heavily. How did she explain? "Just… this whole thing," Ashleigh replied and dropped her hands back down to her lap.
His eyebrows raised even further if that was even possible. "What whole thing?"
"A Norse god made me coffee. A Norse god took me out for ice cream. A Norse god, who I barely know, is being nice to me. No offence," she hastened to add, "but considering that I almost got eaten by a bunch of gods and goddesses not long ago, I don't think it's… normal that you've adopted the whole Nemo philosophy."
He looked blank. Confused. "Nemo philosophy? What do you mean?"
"Fish are friends. Not food." she quoted solemnly. Amending the statement, she tacked on after a moment of thought, "Well, I guess that should be 'humans are friends. Not food.' But it's the same idea."
"Huh." He looked understanding and tapped his chin thoughtfully. The crease between his brows deepened slightly. "I like humans. I've said it before, I'll say it again. I respect them for what they've done, what they've built out of what they were given." His voice was quiet and gravelly and Loki regarded her seriously.
"What? Haven't we kind of wrecked the planet?" She laughed, short and sharp. Ashleigh would have thought that most gods would feel nothing but contempt towards humans considering that they had destroyed what those gods had created for them in the first place. Not that she didn't appreciate most things about the 21st century, but there were a lot of issues that her kind had created for themselves.
"Nah. Not totally. Some things humans have done with their freedom are… horrible. But others… it's impressive." Glancing at her with clouded golden eyes, Loki held her gaze with his own. Stifling a groan, she realized what he was going to ask. "So… you draw what you dream, right?" At her nod, he hesitated before continuing, seemingly becoming a little tentative and cautious. Her weak, twisted smile fell. "How long have these dreams been going on?"
Uncomfortable and ashamed of herself for some weird reason, she turned away to stare blankly at the wall in front of her. Monotonously, she answered, "I dunno." She laughed softly at herself, a derisive sound. "Couple months, maybe? I lost track." Ashleigh shrugged sheepishly, rubbing her thumb across the marks on her palm.
There was a beat of tense silence before he pried further, thoughtfully. "W-what are they about?" Loki's tone made it seem like he didn't want to know and he sounded tired, exhausted even. Confused, maybe. Lost, most certainly.
"Blood. Black eyes. Screaming." Ashleigh said flatly, forcing herself to go back into her mind to remember the events of her nightmares. Clearing her throat and wincing at the resulting soreness, she continued. "Something about paradise, or whatever. There's always green eyes though. It's insane." She laughed again, louder this time and the sound was rich with self-deprecation. "Isn't this just pathetic." Wiping angrily at her wet eyes, Ashleigh took a long drink from her hot cup – not caring that it was still steaming, hey, she'd faced hotter in her nightmares – mostly to avoid looking at the Norse god staring at her with a slightly taken aback expression.
"Don't say that." Loki said after a while. The faint black outline of shadowy feathers flickered behind him agitatedly. He looked like he wasn't sure what to say – and she couldn't blame him. What were you supposed to do with a fucking delusional, slightly hysterical girl who was trying to recover from increasingly vivid nightmares? She certainly didn't know. "You're not pathetic. You're… dealing."
She scoffed disbelievingly. "Right. Because screaming myself hoarse every morning is 'dealing'. Sure." Ashleigh soon regretted her harsh tone, especially when she chanced a glance at his expression and then dug the heels of her palms into the sockets of her eyes to avoid looking at him.
He didn't reply to that, only sat next to her with a tentative hand on her still shaking shoulders. "You're gonna be okay, alright? You understand, kiddo?"
"How?" she asked and her voice cracked a little because she desperately wanted to believe that she was going to be okay but the realistic side of her was rolling it's eyes.. Ashleigh was conscious that she was looking up at him the way she'd look up at her mother when Ashleigh had a broken arm or something, begging her silently to help and make her feel safe. "How is this ever going to be okay?" The question was asked not in the hostile way but in the urgent, despairing way. She couldn't live like this. Maybe she should just give up and lock herself up in a mental hospital.
"I-I don't know," he admitted honestly. "But we'll figure something out, right?" When she didn't respond, staring at the wall in front of her, he tapped her shoulder and repeated, "Right?"
"Yeah. I guess." she responded flatly. Her shoulders lifted in a half-hearted shrug as she turned away from him. The hopefulness that had filled her when Loki had smiled widely at her at Sally's ice cream place was now long gone. Briefly, she wondered what was going to happen now for them. Did he think she was some kind of freak? A lump rose in her throat and she swallowed hard, reaching for her sketchbook and drumming her fingers on the cover. He probably did.
Honestly, she didn't blame him for thinking she was a freak - hell, she thought she was a freak and some small part of her mind begged desperately for it to be over already. When she fell asleep, she burned and screamed out for help that would never come. When she was awake, she'd wander around in a half-catatonic state, swallowed by the memories of what she'd dreamed the night before. And the worst parts were the random visions that pounded through her head during the middle of the day. She felt lost, confused and so ashamed that Loki had to make her feel better, comfort her after a nightmare. Dimly, she wondered why he even cared. He was a Norse god, after all. Didn't he have better things to do?
As if hearing her thoughts, which she hoped to Hell that he wasn't, he wrapped his arm around her tighter and Loki assured, "It's gonna be fine. You'll see." But his voice was shaky and his expression clouded.
She didn't respond.
Author's Note: Shorter chapter this time guys :( I really wanted to add another scene but decided that this was better as a standalone chapter :) What's Ashleigh dreaming about? Hmn... Anyways, I'm going to have to start updating slower now because of school :/ You can expect an update every week, Tuesday/Wednesday depending on whereabouts you live. If I haven't updated in ages, send me a PM and tell me to get off my butt and write more :) I really don't want to lose motivation for this story because I'm really excited about what is yet to come :)
There were some slightly bigger hints this chapter... ooh! I'm really excited to see what you all think she is!
What would you prefer: shorter chapters (5k - 6k words) and quicker updates or longer (7k-9k) and slightly slower updates?
Leave me a review and tell me what you think is going to happen/what you want to see!
