Messenger of Letters

CHAPTER 6 - Do We Get What We Deserve? (AKA Kenopsia.)

{May, 1909}

It was close to midnight. Probably past midnight. Gabriel cared exactly nothing.

That evening, he had slipped to the garage and hopped onto his black motorcycle, shooting from the basement as fast as he could.

He needed some fresh air.

Riding on the bike now was about as close as he came to flying. He had agreed with himself, that for the duration of Gabriel Moran's, his human nickname's, life, he would use his grace as little as possible to avoid detection.

His wings were a little harder to ignore.

They were physical to an angel, a demon, anything that needed them physical. Some forms of were-creature could even see an angel's wings when they needed to.

He drove swiftly, closing his eyes and letting the wind through his hair mimic the endless feeling of flying.

Alone now, Gabriel had too much time for his own thoughts.

He was... lonely. Despite being in the closest knit community he had lived in since long before the birth of Christ. Back in Heaven.

That had been a long time ago.

Heaven seemed like a millennia ago now, when Dad was home and when he felt... safe.

When was the last time he felt safe?

He supposed here, as it was technically the only place he had 'belonged' to since Heaven, but he felt out of position with the humans and their short, precious lives.

Gabriel stretched forward and back into eternity. There was little that could kill an Archangel, and fewer still willing to try. Even a Leviathan would fear a pissed off, righteously angered Archangel.

Yet Gabriel chose to spend his time with people.

-{[|]}-

"Gabe?"

Gabriel turned to face Vance, who walked in silently. Vance would've made a good hunter, if he was less bookish and more outgoing.

"Heya Vance. How are you?" Gabriel questioned, head tilted slightly to the side.

"I was wondering the same about you. Gabriel, since that session with the angel you pulled in, you've been..." Vance fell off, searching for words.

"Distracted?" Gabriel inserted. "Off-centre? Confused?"

"All of the above." Vance waved a hand dismissively. "And I wanted to know if you were ok with the... The mission."

"Look, Vance." Gabriel sighed. "Shay's already talked to me about the whole guilt complex thing. I know that... That..." He took a deep breath. "I know that kid wasn't my fault."

{October, 2013}

Gabriel pulled down the road in front of the Bunker's entrance, wincing with uneasy shifts in weight. Over the last hour, his whole right side had begun to throb like it was actually on fire.

Carefully, he eased himself out of the car, trying not to put too much weight on his right side at all.

Towering above him, the old power plant they had set overtop of the Bunker rose in it's great stone glory. Even after Gabriel Moran had 'died'... Gabriel the Archangel had long since stuck close to the Men of Letters, at least until his old Pagan 'friends' caught up with him. He had lost regular contact at around 1953, soon after the computer had been installed.