--I own Gabe and Edith. Don't own COTC, Micah, or related characters. ...if you notice, Gabe and Micah's relationship is getting a bit more... physical. Heh, either it means they're really cute together, or the fanfic writer is kind of horny. Let's hope it means the former, eh? ^_^;--

I will get down on my knees
And I will pray
I will get down on my knees
And I will pray
I will get down on my knees
And I will pray
--
from Hands by Jewel

Gabe was sitting outside on the porch swing, wrapped comfortably up in a blanket. The sun had started to set; supper had ended over half an hour ago, and she'd been sitting out there ever since she'd ordered him to talk to Jed. What an idea that had been.
"Did it go well?" she asked softly, offering a small grin. Micah shook his head tiredly.
"Not quite," he muttered, and abruptly ran his wheelchair into the swing post. That was it; all the stress and fear and anger from being in Hemmingford overflowed. "Oh, this stupid chair!" Micah shouted, then promptly covered his face with his hands. There was only a short pause before Gabe emerged from beneath the blanket, hands hooking securely beneath his arms.
"Come here," she murmured, and pulled him swiftly over to the swing with a small grunt of effort. After a moment, when she had them situated, Gabe drew the blanket around both of them and curled an arm around him. "It's all right," Gabe said softly. "Calm down. We'll just sit out here a little while, okay?"
"Okay," Micah mumbled, and slowly let his head lean on her shoulder. The cornfield spread before them, vast and endless, so painfully familiar that Micah had to close his eyes.
"Did you two fight?" Gabe touched her foot to the ground and gave a push, setting the swing into a slow, lulling motion.
"Not exactly," Micah said, and pulled the blanket tight around them. "Mm. It's getting chilly." Gabe nodded a little.
"Yeah," she agreed, touching his hair lightly with her fingertips. There was a pause, then she continued. "Micah..." Gabe shifted a little and took his chin in her hand. She tipped his face up so she could look him in the eye. "It's not just Jed that's worrying you, is it?" Micah paused, staring at her. There was only comfort in her face.
"No, it's not," he muttered, and pulled away slightly to sweep his gaze over the cornfield. "It's this whole place, Gabe, this whole damned place..." Micah hesitated, then added shakily, "And... my wheelchair." He stared at the fields; Gabe's voice came quietly from behind him.
"What about it, sweetheart?"
"It's so hard," Micah complained quietly, and closed his eyes. "I want to be able to walk again, Gabe." He had never said it out loud, he suddenly realized, and that made it even more painful.
"Oh, Micah." Gabe pulled him close, nestling against him, and the warmth of her body against his made Micah feel a little better. Just a little. "I'm sorry." At last, he felt tears welling up behind his eyes.
"Can't we go home?" he whispered, snaking a hand behind her head to gently touch the tips of Gabe's hair. The softness felt good on his fingertips. "Please, Gabe, can't we go home?"
"Honey--" She pressed a light kiss against the top of his head. "--I'll talk to Edith, but I can't guarantee anything. Garrett made it quite clear that we had to stay 'til the story was done. Oh, but Micah, if it would make you happy I'd let you leave right now..." Micah was silent for a moment; he'd gotten his tears under control and was steadily cursing himself for being such a fool.
"Okay." He slowly sat up and leaned close to her face, brushing his nose against hers. "If we can't go home," Micah said softly, "can we at least make out for a little while?" Gabe flushed a light pink and smiled shyly.
"Right out here? What if someone comes outside?" Feeling slightly better, he nuzzled his nose lightly over her face.
"You know what?" Micah murmured, kissing the line of her jaw briefly. "I really couldn't care less if Garrett or Angela came out here." Gabe shifted a little and pulled the blanket tight around them.
"What about Danny and Lacey?" she asked, sounding less than reluctant.
"If Danny and Lacey see us making out," he said mildly, and lowered his face to her neck, "maybe we can show them some pointers." Gabe chuckled quietly, then shifted again.
"I don't know, Micah..." She drifted off, letting out a soft sigh. "Mmn." Micah gave her neck another tender kiss. It had been quite a while since they'd had any time to themselves, and right now, this was all he wanted. He just wanted to be with Gabe and block everything else out.
"Love you," he mumbled, moving his nose lightly over her throat.
"I love you too," she whispered, and promptly pulled the blanket over her head, jerking away. Micah blinked in surprise.
"Where are you going?" He followed, hands groping for Gabe in the darkness. The sun had finally set and left the cornfields beneath a black-blue sky; the porch light flickered on after a brief moment, casting shadows against the blanket. Micah could see her at last, a dim silhouette lined on the quilt. He grinned and pretended to search blindly anyway. "Where'd you go?" he asked dully, feeling at her sleeves.
"Oh, because I'm so hard to find," Gabe said sarcastically. Micah grinned and promptly pinched her side. She yelped loudly, squirming away. "Hey!"
"There you are," he declared, but continued to search for her.
"Quit that." She wiggled, then squeaked loudly. "Watch what you're grabbing, Mr. Balding!" Micah grinned to himself.
"Oops," he said with a mockery of innocence, "so sorry." At last, he had her where he wanted; Micah slipped his hands around her arms and pushed her back to the seat of the swing. She squirmed, apparently surprised by his strength.
"Let me up!" Gabe wriggled again, the blanket casting shadows over her face. Micah felt an involuntary smile surface.
"Where's my dessert?" he asked softly. "I've been a good boy." She stopped squirming, a slow grin curling her lips.
"You, sir," she said firmly, "are an over-sexed woman chaser with five hands."
"Woman chaser?" Micah cried in genuine surprise. "How am I supposed to chase anyone when I've got my skinny ass stuck in a wheelchair all day?" Gabe snickered quietly, hearing the humor in his words and deciding it was all right to laugh.
"Oh, shut up and kiss me," she ordered quietly. He complied, quite readily.
(my god she's good)
Micah pressed his mouth harder to hers, loving how she felt and tasted, nearly forgetting how much he hated Hemmingford.
"Mmn... you are a good boy," Gabe murmured against his lips. He brought his hands to her hair and twisted his fingers in it. Oh, yes -- this was what he had been wanting for quite a while. She just felt so good, and he knew she loved him... Micah felt her light, stroking touch on his sides as she slid her hands beneath his shirt; he snickered unwillingly and gave a slight jerk.
"Don't," he mumbled, pulling away a little. The blanket was still draped over the both of them; it shielded the two from the late summer chill. Micah thought it was getting slightly annoying, but he found he didn't have the patience to pull it off at the moment.
"You're so cute." Gabe smiled shyly up from beneath him. "I guess, what with all that's been going on, you really do deserve this, don't you?" Micah felt a soft laugh bubble to his lips.
"Yeah," he murmured, and kissed her again.

He was so busy it took him thirty seconds to acknowledge the fact that the blanket had been torn off, exposing them both to the crisp night air.

Gabe gasped under his mouth, and Micah shot back, ready to curse fluently at whoever had dared to interrupt his valuable quality time. He was quite certain that everyone here was scared enough of him as it was, and if he needed to, he was ready to use that power. Even abuse it. To put it simply, Micah was understandably pissed off.
"What the hell--" he spat, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the fairly bright light of the porch. Ruth was standing there, hands clenched, face livid. Gabe was silent beneath him as she quickly withdrew her hands from his shirt.
"All this time," Ruth hissed, and her eyes narrowed. "All this time, I've been waiting for you to come back, and what do I find you doing?" She laced her arms tightly over her chest. "On the porch, acting like some horny teenager when the entire prophecy depends on you--"
"Prophecy?" Gabe's voice was quiet, but curious. Micah sat up fully, pulling the blanket over his knees angrily.
"Enough, Ruth," he snapped, but she went on.
"Yes, prophecy!" Ruth's blonde brows twisted into an ugly scowl. "It is written--"
"Shut your mouth, Ruth!" Micah snarled. He truthfully had no idea what she was talking about, but he knew it wasn't good.
"No!" She hurriedly pulled a piece of wrinkled paper out of her pocket and smoothed it on her jeans. "It is written," Ruth said sharply, " 'And the Chosen shall return to the holy ground, offer himself up to the Lord, and return with new hope and life for all.' "
"Chosen?" Gabe echoed confusedly. He glared at the mop of a girl above him, feeling anger twist his innards harshly.
"You'd better go," he said, tone soft and deadly. "Now." Ruth crinkled the piece of paper in her fist.
"I'd like to know just how you expect to fulfill the prophecy when you've got this -- this --" She grasped for words, then finally found an insult to her liking as she snarled at Gabe. "-- this slut of an outlander sticking her tongue down your throat!" That was the last straw -- his patience snapped. Micah had had enough; the bitch had been asking for it ever since she met him, and now she was going to get it.
"Ruth--" He straightened as best he could on the swing and pointed one pale, slender finger at her. "The Lord is most displeased with you. He is most displeased as to how you are treating His Chosen. On your knees." Micah's eyes didn't grow unnaturally dark, nor did his voice grow deep, but he did manage a throaty growl that sounded threatening to his own ears. Apparently, it was threatening to Ruth's ears too; her face immediately lost all wrath from it.
"I'm -- I'm sorry, Micah--"
"On your knees!" he commanded, and was startled to hear the feral rumble in his voice. Ruth's mouth flapped as she got slowly down to her knees.
"Forgive me, Lord," she whispered, clasping her hands in supplication. Micah waved a hand at her and unearthed a bored look.
"He wishes you to leave. Perhaps if you pray for forgiveness, His punishment will be less severe." Ruth lingered on her knees; he scowled darkly. "Go!" Micah barked, and she went.

He turned back to Gabe, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time.
"I suppose I should tell you what's going on," Micah said softly. Gabe squinted, then shook her head.
"Not yet. Before we go to sleep. I'll give you time to think it over." He watched her, a confused frown twitching his brows.
"Aren't you--"
"Mad? At that mop-head?" Gabe made a face. "Well, she called me a slut, but I think I can handle it. She doesn't have much room to talk." Unwillingly, he grinned.
"You're taking it well."
"Yeah, well..." She smiled seductively. "...you have no idea how sexy you sounded when you yelled at Ruth." Micah raised his eyesbrows.
"Oh?" he asked. Gabe took the folds of his t-shirt carefully in her hands.
"Oh yes," she murmured. "I got chills, I tell you... very sexy." Micah grinned and pulled her close.
"Shall I do it again?" he growled, and she laughed.
"If you wish." And with that, they regained control of their quality time. The cornfield watched in silence.

Micah shifted in his bed quietly.
"Gabe," he whispered. A shadow moved in the darkness.
"Hm?" The bed springs squeaked as she sat on the edge. He groped blindly and finally found her hand.
"I'm ready to tell you." Gabe paused, then slowly rolled over and nestled close to him.
"Go on," she murmured. Micah hesitated. He wanted to tell her, but how? Oh God, how?
"All right." He closed his mouth, waiting for the right words. While he waited, Gabe pressed her cheek gently against his shoulder.
(oh what are you worried about?)
Micah touched his fingers lightly to her hair.
(she loves you and she's going to no matter what happened)
After a good five minutes, he sighed softly and told himself if he didn't say it now, he never would.
"Gabe," Micah whispered. "When I was 8 years old, my parents were killed." There was silence; he frowned a little. "Gabe?" He touched her shoulder lightly, feeling her deep, relaxed breaths. She was asleep. "No," Micah murmured. "Gabe, I'm never gonna tell you unless I do it now..." Then he paused. Slowly, carefully, he smiled.

And, while Gabe slept, Micah told her everything.