"Excuse me?"
Gabriel repeated himself, taking in Carl's incredulous features. "It was a bluff."
The friar sputtered in indignation. When he finally approached something that qualified as speech, Gabriel was able to make out the phrase – "You don't remember anything?"
The truth would never do, and so Gabriel lied, hating himself for it. "No."
"Nothing?" Carl pressed.
The hunter raised a brow. "Well, not nothing. I remember fighting with the Romans -"
The friar snarled.
Gabriel grinned. As Carl groped in silence for something to say, the hunter turned to Jinette. He had recovered from the assassination attempt with remarkable aplomb and had calmly returned to directing the members of the Order.
It had barely been five days since the creature had first been sighted, and had he not been accustomed to it, Van Helsing would have been shocked at the amount that had – and hadn't – happened in that time. His thoughts returned to Michael, and quietly he asked Carl how the boy was doing.
Carl's face went blank with shock, before he flushed miserably. "I'd forgotten," he said softly, his shame apparent.
Van Helsing nodded, and with a few words tried to ease the friar's guilt. When he saw that Carl would not be dissuaded from self-remonstration, Gabriel turned to Jinette and repeated his question.
"The boy?" Jinette shook his head. "He has taken a turn for the worse, and the infection is growing. Taddeo is fighting for Michael as much as is possible, but the boy's strength wanes. It's a miracle he held out this long. One way or another, tonight will decide it." The Cardinal's face was drawn in sorrow.
Gabriel closed his eyes for a moment.
His memories were coming back to him, in bits and large pieces, ever since he had sought peace in the shrine. Remembering his brother seemed to have been the key to unlocking his mind. The images – and there were many – were too numerous for him to even begin to re-process. While all felt familiar, he needed to reabsorb individual events that were now only so much surface gloss. He couldn't even try to categorize them, they were so overwhelming in intensity and – in some cases – violence.
But the memory that he was searching for was different, one of serenity and hope. The soothing image brought with it peace and revitalization. Gabriel knew that if he could only recapture that feeling, then –
The hunter's eyes flew open in realization.
Jinette had already turned away, and Gabriel snagged Carl's arm on his way to the door. "What – Van Helsing, where are we going?"
"To see Michael," Gabriel returned softly. When this was over, he had no desire for the entire Order to have been able to pinpoint his whereabouts with any certainty.
"Right," Carl's voice was soft, his entire bearing that of a person steeling themselves for tragedy.
While Van Helsing strode towards Michael's room with increasing purpose and urgency, Carl lagged. It took the hunter some time to realize his friend's reluctance, but when he did, he was forced to stop dead and wait for the trailing friar.
"Carl?"
The shorter man looked up from under his thatch of rust-colored hair. "I - I don't know that I should see Michael."
Part of Gabriel had expected the soft words, and understood immediately. "Carl, there was nothing more you could have done to help," he gently soothed.
"Wasn't there?" The blue eyes were laden with regret. "Moved the crowd faster, been swifter to help with the bandages - "
"Carl, had you tried to move the people any faster, there would have been panic, which would have helped no one. As it was, you did a wonderful job managing the situation – much better than I could have. I thank God you showed up when you did," Gabriel said frankly, knowing that the other needed to hear it. He took several steps closer to where the friar was despondently propped against the stone wall.
Carl looked up from the ground, and Van Helsing could see the same determined glint in his eye that was present when he had accepted the duty of killing Gabriel should their struggles against Dracula fail. He nodded once, and pushed off from the wall, walking by Van Helsing's side as they continued on to the healing rooms.
The two men remained silent through the corridors. Both pondered the past, though unbeknownst to one, the other was contemplating times before his ancestors were born.
The room was quiet, with the rays of a late afternoon sun gleaming radiantly through the glass, curbed only by gauzy white curtains. A few candles helped illuminate the room with a soft golden glow.
Michael looked very small in the bed, his face pale and dominated by downswept brown lashes. Taddeo gently smoothed back a thatch of chestnut hair that was straggly with sweat. The healer glanced up at the door, his face grim at the prospect of loosing one of his patients, especially one so young.
They kept their voices low, though the boy was so deeply unconscious that he was totally unaware of his surroundings.
"How is he?" Carl's concern was palpable.
Taddeo shook his head. "I do not think it will be long now," he murmured sadly.
Gabriel looked at the boy carefully, then at the healer. "Father," he interjected softly, "do you mind, if only for a moment?" The hunter gestured slightly toward the door.
Taddeo sighed, and said, "You may not get another chance." He ran a hand over his bald head, not knowing what to do with his hands when they were not being used to care for others.
Gabriel nodded, and Taddeo turned, moving toward the door. Together, Carl and Van Helsing approached the bed. Carl sank into the chair beside Michael's still form, and reached out to rest a hand on the child's forehead, unconsciously mimicking Taddeo. "He's burning up," the friar murmured.
Gabriel stilled Carl as the friar shifted. "One moment," he whispered. He rested his hand on Carl's shoulder, and reached for the memory in his mind. It was so bright, so clear, easy to grasp.
"Van Helsing?"
"Shh." Gabriel closed his eyes, and reached out, beyond . . . And now that he knew what he was looking for, it came to him with the ease of familiarity, filling him with tranquility and warmth.
Carl's soft gasp barely registered, and Gabriel felt the sensation flow from him, through the friar, to the boy. Long moments they were frozen, before Gabriel slowly leant forward, guiding Carl's other hand unerringly to the wound in the boy's side.
They remained like that, feelings of comfort and serenity moving within them, until Gabriel knew that it was finished and slowly drew away.
Michael's breathing was easier, his face no longer the white pallor of impending death. He was sleeping now, rather than imprisoned within unconsciousness.
Carl's attention was caught on the boy, and he gently stroked the child's face in wonder. Michael shifted, sighing contentedly in his sleep, and the friar cautiously pulled away, smoothing the cover as he stood.
"A miracle," his voice was full of awe.
"The power of God," Gabriel softly affirmed.
The friar's eyes were fixed on Michael. "Is he - "
"He will be fine," Gabriel hastened to reassure his friend.
"How did you do it?"
Caught, the hunter froze. At that moment, Taddeo appeared in the doorway. He moved quietly to them and said, "Are you - "
Gabriel nodded. "Carl?"
Behind Taddeo's back, the friar glared at him. "Yes," he answered, his voice remarkably free of exasperation.
The two men left the room before Taddeo discovered Michael's drastically improved condition. Van Helsing braced himself for a barrage of questions as soon as they were out of range of the healing quarters, but they didn't come. Feeling slightly uneasy, he waited.
They were nearly at the archives before Carl said anything, and the first words out of his mouth were the last thing Gabriel expected.
"You lied to me," he said at length.
The hunter winced, knowing that if Carl had worked out that much, any dissembling on his part would simply cause a greater rift between them. "Yes," he responded honestly.
"I think I know why, but I'd rather you tell me." Carl's voice was uncharacteristically sober.
"I have to leave," Gabriel returned. He ignored the friar's stunned expression. "Not until after I have finished with the creature. But – this is the longest I've allowed myself to stay anywhere. Had I my full memory at the time, it never would have happened."
"But you remember who you are now," Carl's voice was flat.
"Yes, I know what I am."
The friar was quiet, absorbing the distinction. "What are you?" he finally asked, wanting to hear it.
"The Left Hand of God." Gabriel's words were simple, yet filled with an . . . acknowledgement of . . . something. Something beyond the scope of mortal ken, Carl found himself thinking whimsically, before he banished the idea.
"And – Michael?"
Gabriel was silent for a long moment. "He was an innocent, and it was not his time." The hunter inexplicably knew that Michael did indeed have a greater purpose in the world; the creature's attack, for all it's suddenness, had not been random.
Carl raised a brow. "This all is – very unlike you," he assessed the hunter.
Gabriel snorted. "I am a bit worried about how you're taking it."
Carl looked at the man – the angel – sideways. "On the whole, I think I'm doing rather well," he informed him. "I've just discovered that my best friend is actually one of God's own servants, who has lived since the creation of the world, and oh, yes, he's also planning to leave as soon as he's killed a minor Fallen angel who is wreaking havoc on the Order and against whom he has a personal vendetta. Did I miss anything?"
"It's more duty than revenge," Gabriel muttered somewhat grumpily.
"Ah, yes, and the healing," Carl overrode him without missing a beat. "What in God's name happened back there?"
The friar's voice was rising, and Gabriel gave him a considering glance. In all honesty, Carl was doing much better than Van Helsing had expected. Now, however, the young man was loosing the little control he had held over the situation.
Gabriel drew the friar into a small side chapel, making sure it was empty before bolting the door. "Gabriel?" Carl was almost pleading. Gabriel turned to his friend. "What happened with Michael?"
The hunter sighed. "What you felt was the Power of God," he said simply. "It was a laying on of hands, and yes, you were the conduit. I couldn't choose anyone else."
"Why?"
Gabriel gave Carl a measured glance. "You have faith," he said simply. It wouldn't do to tell Carl that the purity of his soul, despite what little he had seen and done, was what had made the difference. Although the friar would argue otherwise, he still held an innocence that was safely protected behind dry sarcasm and a quick mind.
"Taddeo - "
"Is the Vatican's most skilled in the healing arts. He has saved, and lost, hundred of patients. He has seen too much death to hold out hope where he knows there can be no recovery," Gabriel replied gently. He knew that Carl would understand. Taddeo was the finest healer in the Vatican, but his faith was worn after seeing the many ailments of mankind – not the least, what people did to one another.
"It was . . . ." Carl, ever verbose, trailed off and shrugged helplessly. Gabriel understood. The power of God was beyond the ability of mortals to put into words. In the language of archangels, there was a word which was used, and it meant purity, peace, wonder and hope all rolled into one.
"Yes," Gabriel smiled, "it was."
Gabriel unlocked the door, and the friends walked through the corridors to the archives. Reaching the third room, where they had spent a good deal of their time tracking the Spear, they surveyed the massive amounts of knowledge penned on papers lying haphazardly on every available surface. The two were silent, Gabriel trying to give Carl all the time he needed to absorb the latest knowledge thrust at him. As always, his friend surprised him with the speed of his mind.
"Why couldn't you just do it?" Carl asked, curious, and returning to a conversation Gabriel had hoped closed.
Caught off guard, Van Helsing replied, "It doesn't quite work like that."
"How does it work?"
Gabriel shook his head fondly. He should have expected something like this. "Carl . . ."
"Well? How?"
Turning serious for a moment, Gabriel responded, "If I had touched him, it would have killed him."
Carl paled considerably. "So - "
At that moment, Van Helsing conveniently stumbled over a stack of papers they had recently been searching through, shoving the parchments and vellum across the stone floor. "Oops."
Carl gaped at him.
Gabriel was always sure of his feet – it was a survival trait.
But the mess was quite impressive, and effectively diverted the friar's attention.
Not for long, but long enough for Gabriel to gather his wits on the subject. For all his genius, Carl would never understand that his simple and devoted faith was able to change so much. Quite simply, Carl believed in the Lord, in the goodness of God and, also, he believed in humanity – the fruits of God's labors. Such a level of unadulterated belief was incredibly rare; most people were made jaded and cynical by life, and soon lost the absolute trust of childhood.
It was not something seen on the surface, but rather a trait that lay understated at the core of his being. And this was the reason why, when Carl touched Gabriel, he could feel to a great degree what the hunter's senses detected – from the creature's evil taint to the Power of God.
As soon as the papers were stacked, Carl turned and began poring through them again, spreading them out in some convoluted sense of order that Gabriel needed to stare at extensively to make sense of. "Now I know perfectly well that there's no way you actually tripped over that pile of parchment," the friar smoothly interrupted his own mutterings about chronology. "But since you went to all the trouble, I'll drop the subject. For now."
"Thank you," Gabriel said quietly.
The friar threw him a quick grin at his sobriety, and turned his attention back to a crumbling text in his hand.
- - - -- - - - - -
This chapter is dedicated to Toto, who was very persistent about prodding me to get my butt moving. I also received several very thought-provoking messages from Toto, some of which have influenced me to build more into the story than I was planning.:)All the better for you. I'm once again lost. :)
I apologize for the delay – real life happened to me, with a vengeance. Exams. I will say no more.
Review, please?
PS – to all those grimacing over the fact that I haven't updated SHIDACHI yet, I'm sorry. I'm very much without a map on that one, but I am working on it.
