Summary: 'Gabriel stepped out into the dark and windy street, hat still darkening his face, and coat twirling around his boots, adding to his aura of mystery. The crossbow was slung almost carelessly over one shoulder, the point in the air as he waited. He didn't have to wait long.' After the death of Anna Valerious, Gabriel Van Helsing is changed. But can a chance encounter change this, for better or for worse?
Songfic: 'Trouble' by Pink. Contact me for the full lyrics-added version.
F/N: Just a quickie by moi after watching 'Van Helsing' for the first time - it is so amazing, I'm hooked! - and listening to this song. The idea of Gabriel riding down a street like that was engraved on my memory, and it spawned this littleplot-piranha (hehehe) which bit my right little finger and did not let go. It's mostly a Carl-POV fic, as I didn't want to get dredged in Gabriel-depression, and am not sure on my own feelings of a theological nature. Ah well, here 'tis!
PS: MAJOR thanks to Ebonybeach for beta'ing this. Hana, you're a star! This is the first truly beta'd fic I've posted, so no excuses for me (unfortunately!). Anyway, here we go!
11/05/2005 - Recently I discovered that adding lyrics to a fic is wrong. I apologise to all of you (especially the people!) as I didn't realise this was the case. If you wish to read with the lyrics handy (easily available online) then the italiced notes could be helpful. I still have the full original version on disk, so contact me if you want it sending along to you. Thanks.
As a result of the editing, I have had to take off the story and reload it. Apologies to my reviewers, I really appreciated them, but I don't want to get kicked off for an infraction of the rules. Responses at the bottom.
Trouble – A Van Helsing Fic by FireOpal.
(Verse 1)
Gabriel Van Helsing rode down the dark street, his hat shadowing his scarred face - another dingy little town, another monster to kill, another task to complete. His features were blank, but his eyes were wary and tinged with pain. However, he continued on, throwing himself into the job as only a monster-hunter could. His cloak flapped around him in the wind, and the horses' bit jingled surreally in the ominous silence, only broken by the sounds of hooves.
Carl followed behind his friend with his own expression schooled into blankness. He knew that Van Helsing was hurting, and hurting more than he would probably ever understand. The man didn't know who he was, had had no family, no friends except Carl. And then Anna had come along, the beautiful gypsy Princess Anna Valerious, and he had been happy. He had felt the feather-touches of love, and it had warmed his isolated heart, but only to be torn apart as it unfroze by her death, at his own hand.
Clutching his hood over his sandy head as the wind threatened to blow it off, Carl tried to come up with another solution, another way to help his friend. If anyone deserved help, it was Van Helsing. The world could not continue without its unwelcome saviour. However, plan after subtle plan had failed to touch the cold man, and Carl was despairing. Maybe he wasn't fated to be helped. Maybe it was God's will that foiled his plans.
He shook his head mentally. There would be no way that he would think that.
Their passage down the street attracted the attention of a few wary survivors who watched from battered windows, the shutters opened slightly to view the new threat. It seemed to Gabriel that he couldn't do anything right; he destroyed evil, he removed the threat from people's lives, he helped them live in safety, and he in turn was the most hunted man in Europe, a murderer, an ungodly man (quite hypocritical really he often thought mirthlessly). And when he had found happiness, it was only to have it wrenched from his hands. Some brave person spat out of the window as they passed, the small droplet of moisture hitting the cobbles with a splat. Gabriel ignored it, as he ignored most things these days, and continued on his way, feeling like a convict being lead to the noose.
(Chorus)
They were somewhere in Germany, Gabriel didn't know where. For a long time he had just followed Carl, taken the weapons placed in his hands, killed the monster, and continued his journey. He knew, in some part of his mind that he was running himself ragged – his body was exhausted, his wounds barely healing, and his hair too long, hanging limply around his slightly hollow face. His eyes were deadened, dark brown and nearer black, the only sign of life the pain echoing from the depths of his soul. Now they were fighting some gargoyle, or something, that had come down from the mountains to terrorise this village and drag off its children. For a few brief moments, he entertained the idea of just turning around and leave them to it, let them deal with their own monsters, but then he dismissed it with a mental sigh. He was God's servant, a soldier for the Vatican, and it was his duty to save these innocent people.
But the problem, beside and linked to the main problem of Anna's devastating death was Faith. For the past three years as he had travelled the world with his friar companion, they had been mostly silent, and his faith was slipping. Was God truly all loving, and if so, why not him? Why was he forced to skulk in the shadows, hiding from everyone just to save them? Maybe there was no good, only evil. Shades of evil, some worse than others, but all evil nonetheless. Maybe there was no God, no higher being to watch over humanity, to care for them and to forgive them.
(Verse 2)
Carl reached inside his robes and pulled out an ornate silver cross on a chain, holding it in his fist and closing his eyes sadly. It was Gabriel's cross, given to him by the Cardinal himself when Van Helsing had awaken in the Vatican, with no memory, and no belongings. He had worn it constantly since then, no matter what happened, and it seemed to be some sort of reminder and comfort to the man. But when Anna had died, and they had burned her body on a pyre, he had taken off the cross, leaving it beside the sea on a small wooden cross of his own design, obviously intending it to be some sort of sacrifice and gift to the dead woman.
Feeling slightly guilty, and not sure why he was doing it, Carl had waited until Gabriel had left the cliff side to remove the cross from its position, and winding it round his hand.
"Sorry Anna, I think he needs it more than you do." He had whispered to the wooden marker, and crossed himself, apologising to God for removing the item. Then, he had ridden off with his companion, and the cross had rested in his closest pocket since then. Every so often he would take it out, sometimes he would consider confronting Gabriel, others he would think of leaving it at a church, but something held him back each time, as if he was waiting for the right time, the time to use it.
Swiftly, he put it back in his pocket, checked he wasn't being watched by a certain monster-hunter, and relaxed slightly.
(Chorus)
As Gabriel probed his feelings and faith in God, and Carl debated with the cross and the health of his friend, someone watched them from the shadows, following them silently, with an evil glint in its eyes. These people where against his Master, and should be destroyed, a task he was only too willing to do. The werebear stalked them on padded feet, unseen by everyone. Time to wreak trouble.
(Chorus)
The air was thick with tension, even Gabriel felt himself roused from theological doubts long enough to feel it. And evil, or more evil, was coming. He glanced out from under the brim of his hat, but couldn't see anything. Time for him to earn his titles.
Gabriel turned his horse and pulled alongside Carl, who eyed him confusedly.
"Something's here." He said shortly, the only way he ever spoke any more. He didn't meet Carl's slightly worried blue eyes, but instead kept his eyes on the road.
"Can you tell what it is?" Carl asked quickly as they led the horses to a more sheltered spot.
"No. It's just here." Gabriel pulled his horse to the side of a house, surrounded by fencing. It looked like it usually housed some sort of animal, and he tied the reins to a doorpost, taking down a large pack from its back and shouldering his large crossbow. Carl watched as he worked mechanically, loading, cocking, sighting, tucking a knife into his belt, loading his pistols with bullets, both steel and silver, and pocketing the canister of holy water Carl handed him without a glance. The sandy haired friar frowned slightly. Usually Van Helsing would take the bottle, glance at it for a moment, and cross himself, speaking in latin. It was almost a ritual. And he hadn't done it, barely noticed what he was holding at all. It was getting worse.
(Verse 3)
Quite calmly, Gabriel stepped out into the dark and windy street, hat still darkening his face, and coat twirling around his boots, adding to his aura of mystery. The crossbow was slung almost carelessly over one shoulder, the point in the air as he waited. He didn't have to wait long.
Deep in the shadows, the werebear waited, resting on his haunches, as he tried to figure out what the men-people where doing. The big one had gone back to talk with the puny one, and had then led them near a man-dwelling. And now the big one was stood in the middle of the street, alone. The half-bear grinned, his deformed snout twisting upwards, and he growled, delighting as the sound echoed around the streets, his challenge. Standing awkwardly, he started off at a fast lope, heading straight down the empty street to the man, eyes alight with anger and thrill of battle.
Gabriel watched the half-man half-bear run down the street towards him dispassionately. He had heard it call its challenge to the night, and stood his ground firmly as it raced towards him, fur flying in its haste. Lowering the crossbow slowly and pointing it ahead of him, aiming for the creatures shoulder, he fired, the series of fast-flying bolts zipping through the night air like angry flies. The beast dodged most of them, but the last caught him in the shoulder, burying into the fur-covered flesh. Howling, the creature continued its reckless charge, enraged as Gabriel darted out of the way artfully, swinging the crossbow around again to fire another volley between the werebear's shoulder blades. They hit with deadly accuracy and a noise that sickened Carl, who was stood watching from a distance. However, the resilient beast just roared in pain and anger, turning swiftly and running back towards Gabriel.
Raising the crossbow again, he fired, but the creature had learned, and dodged quickly, heading straight for him. When they collided, the crossbow was knocked clean out of Van Helsing's hands and clattered across the cobbles, far out of reach. Gabriel himself was flung across the ground, landing heavily, his hat knocked from his head. Without bothering to look for the other weapon as the werebear retreated to run again, he lowered the twin cutting blades over his hands, deciding to live dangerously. His face still held no expression, but his heart flickered for a second, ignored as the creature charged again, and he brought both spinning saws in a sweeping action over the large furry chest and arms, biting deep and causing blood to splatter out onto the cold stone cobbles, and his enemy to fall back, panting and growling in pain and anger.
(Verse 4)
As the creature paused, Gabriel made his way over to where his crossbow had fallen, accidentally turning his back on the werebear. Seeing its chance, it lumbered forwards, leaping onto the man's back and knocking him to the floor. Gabriel felt all his breath forced out of his lungs as the weight fell on him, and his ribs crushed against the unforgiving surfaces. All weapons out of reach, and crushed underneath a gigantic beast, he was stuck all right. Giant paws pounded down on him, claws biting deep into his flesh and drawing long rivulets of blood. Fortunately, the bear-like brute had moved the paw that was pinning Gabriel's right arm, and he swiftly delved for the silver dagger he kept close to his skin, drew it, and plunged it deep into the blood-splattered flank.
Mortally wounded, the creature howled, staggering back off of Gabriel, who remained on the ground recovering his breath.
(Chorus)
Howling like a wolf, the werebear tore at its side, where the dagger still stayed, buried to the hilt. Finally, it fell over backwards, only feebly pulling at the silver dagger, and whining, before all sound stopped, and an eerie silence descended.
Breathing heavily, Gabriel stared at the bear-like form, and felt something unusual happen. As if he had destroyed the beast inside him, not just the one before him, his shattered heart uncurled and beat again. Joy flooding his body, exhilaration at surviving the fight, happiness at having saved more innocents and removing one small piece of evil from the world all tumbled down over him, and, slowly, his face contorted into a grin. He lay back down on the ground, still panting heavily from the pain of his wounds and the hard fight, he raised his eyes to the sky and laughed, the sound echoing across the square, even above the hurried sound of Carls' footsteps. He laughed, the first time in three years, a wide grin on his face and his eyes alight.
"Van Helsing? Van Helsing!" Carl yelled, worried at the barely distinguishably sound he could hear. What if…
As he drew closer however, his breath coming in gasps, he recognised incredulously the deep and rich sound of laughter, and saw Gabriel lying on the floor, giggling almost hysterically.
"Van Helsing!" he repeated, scurrying to his side as the laughter subsided. Gabriel looked up at his friends' worried face, a gleam in his eye.
"Yes?"
"Are you alright? You're covered in blood…" Carl glanced concernedly at the blood spreading through the cloth of his sweater, then back at the surprisingly happy eyes.
"I think, that I'm better than ever before." He said seriously. "Much better!" he finished with a laugh, picking himself off the ground, only wincing slightly as he discovered new injuries.
"Really? Really better?" Carl couldn't help but ask, staring into those puzzling brown eyes.
"Really." He said, before limping over to the bear and tugging out his silver dagger, wiping the blood off on the thick fur.
(Chorus)
Carl's hand, as if guided by someone other than himself, dived into his pocket, thin fingers closing around the cold metal. He crossed to behind Van Helsing, and the taller man turned, thrusting the dagger into its sheath. Carl threw back his hood, his sandy hair blowing gently in the wind as he wordlessly held out his hand, the beautiful cross lying in it, gleaming in the dull light, the chain flowing over the pale hand like water. Gabriel stared at it for several minutes without moving, his face frozen and his eyes distant.
"She would've wanted you to have it." Was all Carl said as Gabriel reached out a large hand to tentatively touch the pendant. He grasped it lightly, lifting it as if to be sure it was real, before taking it fully and spreading it on his own hands. Tears sprang to his eyes for a second, but he smiled, and they disappeared. He clasped the precious item around his neck, tucking it in so that the cold metal was against his skin, and turned to Carl.
"Thank you." He said simply, and Carl nodded. The grin spread across Gabriel's face again like wildfire, and he turned, stalked across the square as well as he was able, and swung his forgotten hat off of the ground and onto his head.
(Chorus)
Some time later, the town still deserted, the carcass of the were-bear still lying messily in the street, Van Helsing and Carl sat astride their mounts on the outskirts of town, packed and ready to go. Carl turned to his companion.
"Where to now?" Gabriel grinned.
"Wherever. Let's hunt." Carl couldn't help but smile, and they turned their horses around, riding swiftly away from the town and across the mountain.
(Chorus)
One Year Later.
It was raining heavily, almost hail, driving horizontally against a figure that stood in another town. His hat and coat dripped with water, but his face was hidden. A hand ripped a poster off of a wall, dark eyes glancing over it easily, and grinning. He was back.
I got trouble in my town
I got trouble in my town
Review Responses
angelsgirl2141335 - "i like it. very detailed, keep writting!"
Thank you very much! I will keep writing. grin
Nikoru Sanzo - "Nice work you did here. I liked the details of the fight and Carl returning the cross to Gabriel was very much endearing. )"
Thanks, glad you liked it! I'm new to writing action, and it's so much fun... I also liked the cross-returning scene, it was a pleasure to write. I have Van Helsing's expression clearly in my head when I wrote this, and he looks so cute and sad yet happy at the same time. Odd huh? Oh well.
Fortune Zyne - "The boy is back in town!"
Yes indeedy, the boy is back in town!
