let me be the one you call / if you jump I'll break your fall

[impudentsongbird]

Book Four: Dark Days
1 | into the breach
2 | finding skulduggery
3 | retreat to the tunnels
4 | into the cacophony
5 | sanctuary in the cathedral
6 | reuniting old friends
7 | kenspeckle's new patient
8 | holy water and disinfectant
9 | objecting to china sorrows
10 | the roadtrip
11 | baffling guild
12 | shenanigans at the safehouse
13 | reassuring fletcher
14 | valkyrie's intervention
15 | solomon's revelation
16 | visiting the edgleys
17 | recalled to the sanctuary
18 | guild's confusion
19 | gabe is busted
20 | the psychic tattoist
21 | envisioning the cacophony
22 | angel's first migraine
23 | the morning after
24 | china and solomon
25 | detectives' council of war
26 | china's foolishness
27 | the collector dethroned
28 | finding crux
29 | skulduggery's vileness revealed
30 | sorrows in aftermath
31 | finding equilibrium
32 | the devil's number
33 | at the carnival
34 | meeting authorities
35 | solomon's confession
36 | the stray soul
37 | sanguine unsettled
38 | solomon's choice
39 | a cowboy underground
40 | in scarab's basement
41 | striking midnight
42 | craven contested
43 | emergency services
44 | on your feet
45 | and don't stop moving
46 | easy recognition
47 | a deuce of an evening
48 | engines roaring
49 | compromising judgements
50 | solomon's conflict
51 | axis turning
52 | thinking circular
53 | blasting the past
54 | reviling vile

Book Five: Mortal Coil
55 | sanctuary unsanctified
56 | shudder unravelling
57 | catching an angel
58 | layering dimensions
59 | dead men meeting
60 | when it rains
61 | power plays
62 | sing on gold
63 | the valley of death
64 | grand aspersions
65 | no evil feared
66 | new days rising
67 | angelic neuroses
68 | step-brothers working
69 | the many sorrows of china
70 | peacefully wreathed
71 | tarnished gold
72 | the secret in darkness
73 | magical intent
74 | scars worth keeping
75 | benefits of a beau
76 | grand magery
77 | lighting the darkness
78 | old dogs and new tricks
79 | flouting traditions
80 | drawing lines
81 | brothers and sisters in arms
82 | channelling angels
83 | return of the carnies
84 | the death bringers
85 | meriting agelessness
86 | knick knack, paddy
87 | give a dog a bone
88 | americans propheteering
89 | the right side of honour
90 | tailored shocks
91 | hosting angels
92 | elders anonymous
93 | rediscovered strays
94 | changings and changelings
95 | a state of reflection
96 | adding hope
97 | the devil's truth
98 | dead mens' hospitality
99 | lives half lived
100 | next to godliness
101 | devilish plans
102 | beached angels
103 | lights of revelation
104 | heroes worshipped
105 | new devilries
106 | angels under the yoke
107 | brains frozen
108 | father, mother, daughter
109 | parental guidance recommended
110 | driven round the bend
111 | ongoing training
112 | privileged information
113 | reasonable men
114 | passing the buck
115 | gifting magicks
116 | strengths and weaknesses
117 | immaturity's perks
118 | priests and prophets
119 | scaling evil
120 | blowing covers
121 | marring an afternoon
122 | lie detection
123 | five-dimensional pain
124 | reliving nightmares
125 | taking stock
126 | sampling spices
127 | sleeping prophets lying
128 | rueful returns
129 | dead men reunion
130 | medically-approved hugs

The life of an angel was a contradiction in changes and stability. On one hand, they understood very well the way the cosmos was shaped by events within it. On the other, they stood at one step apart from it—or at least had, for a very long time, up until their Master's recent wager with Lucifer. Changes in the recent past had, even for angels, been fast and turbulent, but there were none that concerned Raphael more than Gabriel's abrupt reserve.

In the aftermath of the wager Gabriel had been almost the only one to know where their Lord was at any given time, a fact which had put the Archangel very firmly under Lucifer's radar. Raphael had joked that Gabriel ought to arm himself with more jokes or worse clothes to drive the fallen angel away; Michael had offered the peace of the Garden Coast. (Rafe thought his idea was better.)

Either way, even though their Master was fair hidden, every angel knew that they had only to ask Gabriel and the Archangel would pass on a message.

Then Gabriel had simply blipped off the radar himself. Poof! Gone! No one had noticed at first, because, well, they weren't exactly in constant connection. It was just when Raphael had taken a whim to seek out his younger brother that he'd noticed it, and let it be, because there was absolutely a reason for it. Gabe did not just off and vanish, except that once with his self-exile, and that didn’t count.

But when Gabriel had come back, he had been strangely agitated and yet close-mouthed. The younger Archangel had vanished off to wherever their Master was hidden for a long chat Raphael was dying to have listened into, and yet couldn't (but only partly because it would have been rude). Now he was here, floating among the stars and examining a black hole with unnerving intensity.

For a time Raphael watched without letting on that he was there, but eventually Gabriel spoke. “I’d rather you came to join me instead of lurking, brother.”

Absolutely refusing to feel chagrined, Raphael let himself manifest with an arm around Gabriel’s shoulders and ruffled the younger angel’s hair. Gabriel threw a fond, longsuffering glance up at him, but there was something in his eyes, something distracted and sharp, which indicated that Gabriel still wasn’t truly present. Raphael only wished he knew where the other Archangel was.

“Just wondering what you’re doin’ all the way out here,” he said teasingly. “There’s a party going on down there on Earth, Gabe.” There was always a party going on down on Earth. “You oughta be down there bobbin’ for apples and switching up party-hats!”

“I can’t,” Gabriel said quietly, with a sort of seriousness Raphael had, for all Gabriel’s literalness, rarely heard from him. So Raphael fell into the same seriousness, lost his playful accent, and spoke directly.

“Why not, brother? You’ve been reserved of late. I conf—I’m worried for you.”

For a very long time Gabriel said nothing and stared into the slow-turning swirl of the black hole. Raphael waited patiently, his arm still companionably across the other Archangel’s shoulders. Eventually Gabriel spoke. “Did you know, Raphael,” he said, “that the universe you see around you here isn’t the only one our Master has created?”

Raphael was so startled that he couldn’t answer. That wasn’t what he was imagining. He hadn’t been sure what he’d been imagining, but that wasn’t it. “I’m not sure what you mean, Gabriel,” he said after a moment. “Our Lord told me the story of Creation not all that long ago, and he never mentioned anything of the kind.”

Gabriel nodded. “He told me that story as well. And then He asked if I really wanted to know details.” He hesitated. “I … admit, I declined. It’s something He said—about faith. I decided I didn’t need to know details. But it’s true, nevertheless. Just beyond this …” The Archangel reached out his hand and touched that gossamer and unbreakable fabric that supported reality. “There are other universes, even with different versions of us.”

“Different versions of us?” Raphael repeated, appalled and uncertain and entirely confused. How could that be possible? What could their Master want with more than one of any of them? What was going on? Where had Gabriel gone in that time he’d vanished? Then something occurred to him and he smiled with relief. “This is a joke, right?”

Gabriel looked up at him and smiled back with such a gentle understanding that for a moment Raphael felt very small indeed. “No, Rafe. I’m not joking. It was a shock to me too. That isn’t the point, though.”

“Isn’t it?” Raphael asked, feeling as dazed as an angel possibly could, especially when he wasn’t even inhabiting an actual physical body.

“No.” Gabriel returned to watching the black hole intently. “I met some people from other realities. One of them is in a kind of Hell, and he very much does not deserve it. I promised him that, if I could, I would save him from it.”

Which did not in the least explain why Gabe was staring at a black hole, let alone a million other questions Raphael would have liked to ask and for which he couldn’t find the words. Finally he found one. “How?”

“First,” Gabriel said with a sort of tranquillity Raphael had heard in his brother’s voice a million times but never after delivering so turbulent a piece of news, “I’m going to jimmy open a crack in the door through this hole.”

Raphael stared at Gabe, and then at the black hole, and then back at Gabe. He opened his mouth to ask whether their Master knew he was planning this and then closed it, because that was a stupid question. He opened it again to query if Gabriel had asked whether he could go around lifting the sheets and then realised that was also a stupid question, because whether he had or not, their Master probably would have told him to do what he felt was best.

It was equally clear that Gabriel very much planned to go through with this, no matter what Raphael said, and really, did Raphael have the right to object? Surely if this carried a risk, their Master would have already forbidden Gabriel from making the attempt?

“I’ll come with,” Raphael said at last, and this time when Gabriel glanced back the younger Archangel’s expression was startled. A moment later that expression shifted into grateful apology.

“I’m sorry, Rafe, but I’m not entirely certain I’ll make it through, and we can hardly leave Michael here alone.” He grinned. “Did you see what he was wearing last festival day on the Garden Coast? He hasn’t moved out of the eighteenth century yet. How would he possibly handle the rest of the world?”

Raphael laughed out loud, warm but startled, and the sound of it rang through space. Gabriel chuckled quietly beside him, and for a few minutes there was just companionable humour that faded into an equally comfortable silence.

Still, Raphael had a lot of questions. How did Gabriel plan to find his friend, let alone the universe he was in? How was he going to get back? What would he do if he met another version of himself? Or, worse, Lucifer? Finally the Archangel just asked, “Have you figured out how to crack open the door?”

“I think so,” Gabriel said, considering the black hole. “Once I figured out what to look for. I wouldn’t have gotten even that far if it weren’t for some things our Master said.”

Which meant that, in some fashion, this expedition was sanctioned by their Master, Raphael translated, and something tense in him relaxed. “Something do to with this drain here, I’ll bet,” he said, falling into his casual accent once more. “Gonna rip out the kitchen sink, li’l brother?”

“Just to see what’s hiding underneath,” Gabriel said with a grin.

“I’ll try’n keep it open for ya,” Raphael promised, and Gabriel sent him a smile which lit up the very space around them with its brilliance.

“Thank you, Rafe,” he said, and straightened. Raphael took his arm away as Gabriel lifted his hands, not exactly stepping back so much as giving Gabriel space. The youngest Archangel didn’t often reveal his power, but it was always a sight to see, a song to hear, when he did.

As it was now. Gabriel’s voice started deep, lifted high, split and wove and became more melodies than one would think a single being could possibly sing at once. The sound of it made Raphael’s heart soar, made him want to fly and laugh. It was so deep, so light, so resonating that it was physical; it touched the slow turn of the black hole and made it, for just the briefest of moments, still. In that moment Gabriel sent a carefully-aimed bolt of energy into the heart of it.

It was the kind of sight Raphael hadn’t seen in thousands of years, a play of physics and metaphysics which he hadn’t thought possible, let alone imagined. There was an eruption in the centre of the black hole, where gravity was condensed; the cascade of energy plumed upward and was dragged back down as quick, a tear in the fabric of the reality not allowed the time to widen or become a danger.

Raphael didn’t even know Gabe had moved until the younger Archangel was gone, he was so busy staring in awe. With a start the Archangel stretched out his senses and just barely managed to catch a glimpse of his brother shooting toward the hole at speeds few angels could have achieved through such a gravity well. Raphael certainly couldn’t have.

How, he suddenly wondered, was he meant to keep that open if he didn’t even have the speed of thought to track Gabriel’s movements through it?

Desperately the Archangel cast about for something to jam in the door, as it were. There was some dark matter nearby and with a thought he fashioned it into a spear and pitched it toward the centre of the black hole. It struck just as Gabriel flitted through the crack nearly wholly collapsed in on itself; the star’s gravity caught it, pulled it in, and plugged the opening like a metaphysical sink.

Slowly Raphael made every part of himself relax. For good or ill, Gabe was gone on this quest of his, and now Raphael should probably go and round up some of their younger siblings to guard the area. Just in case.


Book Four: Dark Days
into the breach | finding skulduggery | retreat to the tunnels | into the cacophony | sanctuary in the cathedral | reuniting old friends | kenspeckle's new patient | holy water and disinfectant | objecting to china sorrows | the roadtrip | baffling guild | shenanigans at the safehouse | reassuring fletcher | valkyrie's intervention | solomon's revelation | visiting the edgleys | recalled to the sanctuary | guild's confusion | gabe is busted | the psychic tattoist | envisioning the cacophony | angel's first migraine | the morning after | china and solomon | detectives' council of war | china's foolishness | the collector dethroned | finding crux | skulduggery's vileness revealed | sorrows in aftermath | finding equilibrium | the devil's number | at the carnival | meeting authorities | solomon's confession | the stray soul | sanguine unsettled | solomon's choice | a cowboy underground | in scarab's basement | striking midnight | craven contested | emergency services | on your feet | and don't stop moving | easy recognition | a deuce of an evening | engines roaring | compromising judgements | solomon's conflict | axis turning | thinking circular | blasting the past | reviling vile

Book Five: Mortal Coil
sanctuary unsanctified | shudder unravelling | catching an angel | layering dimensions | dead men meeting | when it rains | power plays | sing on gold | the valley of death | grand aspersions | no evil feared | new days rising | angelic neuroses | step-brothers working | the many sorrows of china | peacefully wreathed | tarnished gold | the secret in darkness | magical intent | scars worth keeping | benefits of a beau | grand magery | lighting the darkness | old dogs and new tricks | flouting traditions | drawing lines | brothers and sisters in arms | channelling angels | return of the carnies | the death bringers | meriting agelessness | knick knack, paddy | give a dog a bone | americans propheteering | the right side of honour | tailored shocks | hosting angels | elders anonymous | rediscovered strays | changings and changelings | a state of reflection | adding hope | the devil's truth | dead mens' hospitality | lives half lived | next to godliness | devilish plans | beached angels | lights of revelation | heroes worshipped | new devilries | angels under the yoke | brains frozen | father, mother, daughter | parental guidance recommended | driven round the bend | ongoing training | privileged information | reasonable men | passing the buck | gifting magicks | strengths and weaknesses | immaturity's perks | priests and prophets | scaling evil | blowing covers | marring an afternoon | lie detection | five-dimensional pain | reliving nightmares | taking stock | sampling spices | sleeping prophets lying | rueful returns | dead men reunion | medically-approved hugs

Comments

[skeletonenigma]

"I'd love for you to meet them too," Finbar assured Gabe as he turned to go back inside. "But Sharon took our son to some kind of meeting today. It's a shame. Sharon was Christian before we got married. She might still be. I think she's into cults now, but... she'd have been over the moon."

Skulduggery reluctantly followed the pair into the empty tattoo parlour and back into the tiny kitchen, but stayed near the doorway with his arms folded. As a skeleton, he didn't really get physically exhausted anymore. Any investigation he was working on was hindered only by travel time and the sleep schedules of everyone else. Having Valkyrie as his partner, while certainly exciting and full of surprises, felt frustratingly slow after so much freedom - she seemed to get hungry every hour and tired just about every three - and Skulduggery had been assuming, hoping, that Gabe wouldn't need a break anymore than he did.

Apparently, he was wrong.

"Tea, Skul-man?" Finbar asked as he put the kettle on.

"I'm a skeleton, Finbar," Skulduggery tried to remind him.

Finbar nodded slowly. "So no tea, then? Alright." He turned to Gabe. "Milk? Sugar? I don't know if we actually have any, but I can always run and buy some. Anything for an Archangel, I always say."

[impudentsongbird]

In this case, injuries notwithstanding, the need for a rest was perfectly psychological. Gabe's Master had said 'feed your heart'. What better way than to sit down and have a cup of tea with some friends? Gabe followed the psychic inside, beaming to himself despite the fact that, apparently, Finbar's wife was a cultist. "That's too bad. Maybe I'll be able to catch her another time."

The Archangel looked around with guileless curiosity as he padded into the kitchen and found as seat at the table. He smiled at Finbar. "Thank you, but if you don't have any, don't worry about it. There's no need to put yourself out on my account." Then he turned to Skulduggery, tilting his head. "I can put your face back on if you want, Skul. Calling it an 'illusion' is somewhat inaccurate; it's more than solid enough for you to eat and drink."

[skeletonenigma]

And that, Skulduggery had to admit, was one of the only things he did miss about having a human body at Landel's. Once he'd managed to figure out swallowing - thanks to Gabe's help - and learned to savor the taste of the variety of foods available to the prisoners, he'd quickly remembered what he liked and disliked from before he died. And how much he really missed them. Tea, Skulduggery had decided, was something he'd always liked, though he hadn't tried it with milk or sugar before.

So he shrugged and stepped up to the table. "In that case, why not?"

"There's no need to put yourself out on my account," Finbar was murmuring quietly to himself as he bustled around the kitchen, producing three mugs, a bowl of sugar, and enough milk for at least one of them. He chuckled. "Plenty of folks who wouldn't mind hearing that, I think. There's a church up the street with a priest who keeps trying to get me to convert and confess my sin. I told him what, the sin of owning a tattoo parlour? Or the sin of being a psychic? Shoulda seen the look on his face. He came by a lot more after that. Makes it sound like we all owe everything we have to God. Well, no offense, but God wasn't here when I built this business from the ground up." Finbar hesitated while the kettle started whistling. "Hey, thanks, Skul-man. But no, I'm sure God has more important things to worry about than - "

Finbar turned back around and nearly dropped the kettle. He stared openly at Skulduggery's new/old face, which was smiling at him, and it took Finbar a moment to smile back. "Nice. You know, we have an opening for another tattooist, Gabe. If you don't get too busy with answering prayers, you can always come work here."

[impudentsongbird]

It took only a moment, a touch and a whisper to summon Skul's face again, and then Gabe grinned up at him, pushing out another chair with his foot. "Siddown, pardner. We're gettin' special service."

He leaned on the table, resting his chin on his hands as Finbar bustled around and chattered. The Archangel chuckled. "How do you know He wasn't here? He probably brought popcorn. My Lord is fond of popcorn and watching people build themselves up through hard work. He'd like you, Finbar."

Not in the sense of God loving everybody, because He did, but that didn't mean He enjoyed spending time with everyone. He still loved Lucifer, given that He was still offering Lucifer a way back to Heaven. That didn't mean He wanted to be around Lucifer all the time.

The Archangel laughed, tipping his hat at the psychic. "Well, thanks, pardner. I'll keep that in mind and point my brother your way if I see 'im again soon. Rafe's been out for gettin' a tattoo."

[skeletonenigma]

"Well, that's good to know." Finbar smiled absently as he poured the boiling water. "Like I always say, anything for an Archangel. I wouldn't even charge. Although, if he's anything like you, I might need a hint that he ain't normal." Finbar put the kettle back on the stove and sat down with a contented sigh. "Mind you, most of the people who come to me for tattoos ain't normal anyway. He might fit right in."

Skulduggery tried to ignore the thought of an Archangel getting a tattoo - couldn't they just... create one? - and glanced down at the mugs of boiling water. "Where are the tea bags?"

Finbar looked up at the detective, startled. "That's what I was forgettin'. Yeah, I don't think I have any of those."

[impudentsongbird]

"Oh, you'll know," Gabe said cheerfully. "Rafe likes advertising. He says it's funny when no one believes him." He tilted his head. "'Course, then there's always those few who do and never leave him alone, and he has to start delegatin'. That's funny for the rest of us."

Of course they could create one, Skul. But that would defeat the purpose of experiencing it for themselves the proper way.

The Archangel followed Skul's gaze and laughed. "No problem. I figure we can offer something after comin' in mostly unannounced like this." He reached out as if dipping a non-existent tea-bag into Skul's cup, and the deep brown of tea-leaf colouring billowed out from the centre of the unmoving surface. "How strong d'you like your tea?"

[skeletonenigma]

Finbar nodded as he watched the brown color blossom out into the edges of the mug. "That's a neat trick. Probably not much you can't do, is there?"

Skulduggery gave a wry smile. "There's a lot he shouldn't be doing. But he just can't seem to help himself." With a pointed look at the Archangel and a quick blast of air to cool the tea down, Skulduggery took his first sip. It was, predictably, delicious. One could even say it was divine, if one had an inclination towards such humour.

"Nothing wrong with tea," Finbar replied. "I like it really strong. Unless an angel's version of strong is death in a cup, in which case I like it mediocre."

Less than a day ago, Skulduggery was running from another Faceless One without his right arm, his sanity, or any hope of escape from the inevitable torture when he was inevitably caught. Now, he was sitting in a small tattoo parlour kitchen with a psychic and an Archangel debating the strength of tea. Life was funny sometimes.

[impudentsongbird]

"Tricks like this ain't hard," Gabe protested in response to Skulduggery's look, picking up the 'tea-bag' and dipping it into Finbar's cup. "It's just a matter of gatherin' up the resonances. We want tea. The mugs are ready for tea. It's practically there already."

He grinned at Finbar, putting subtle pressure on those resonances to steep the tea within a few seconds and then transferring the 'tea-bag' to his own cup. "We save that kinda tea for after you've got to Heaven."

[skeletonenigma]

'Practically there already' if you were an angel, maybe. For most of the world, even for sorcerers, it didn't matter how badly you wanted the tea or how long you stared at a mug of hot water - without at least some kind of spell to focus the energy, you'd still be left with nothing but hot water. Unless you were a bored Elemental, in which case you'd end up with floating cold water, a block of ice, or vapour.

"I'm going to Heaven, then?" Finbar smiled. "You're not just saying that? Wow. And now I have something to look forward to, too." He took a sip of the newly steeped tea, and grinned in satisfaction as he slumped back in the chair. "Perfect. Gotta hand it to you, Skul-man, you make the most interesting friends. How'd you two meet, anyway?"

Making rosaries, Skulduggery almost said. He tapped the one still wrapped around his wrist. "The same man dragged us both into his reality."

Finbar winced. "He must not have lasted long. That sort of thing's playing with fire enough already, and then you two?" He whistled. "Sort of wish I'd been there to see it."

[impudentsongbird]

"If you died tonight, yep," Gabe said with a smile, dropping even the facsimile of the non-existent tea-bag and spooning some sugar into his mug. "'Course, things like that can change--but in your case, I really doubt it will." Of course, Lucifer had surprised him frequently in the past, but often there was just something about the turn of a soul which could tell a lot. Barring a great many outside influences come to bear on Finbar's life, Gabe was confident where he'd end up.

But, really, it was people like Skul who were more troublesome. The ones who believed they were damned when they weren't.

The Archangel's smile turned slightly grim as he picked up his tea and took a sip. (It wasn't as if he needed to wait for it to cool.) "It wasn't as easy as that, I'm afraid. He had a way to force people into human forms, with only a fragment of their powers--if they had any at all. It was all something of an illusion, of course, like Skul's face right now is an illusion. Solid enough to give us trouble, but in the end ..." He shrugged. "Only an illusion. We weren't even the only ones there, but we all managed to escape eventually."

[skeletonenigma]

Finbar leaned forward, tone and face suddenly alert and full of an awareness he usually lacked. "Am I going to die tonight? No. No, I'd have known a week ago." He sat back again, somewhat more relaxed, even if there was still a tenseness around his shoulders. "So then it doesn't matter if I'm not Christian?" He paused, glancing thoughtfully up at his pockmarked ceiling. "What if I made it my mission to try and convince those churchgoers? Some of 'em believe they're damned 'cause they looked at a pretty girl and never confessed. Breaks your heart, it really does."

Leave it to Finbar to go from almost complete atheism to basically asking if he could speak on the Archangel's behalf. Skulduggery chuckled. He could imagine Finbar doing it, too; standing on those church steps and handing out pamphlets with sickeningly positive messages. Skulduggery wouldn't mind supporting the psychic until he tried going door-to-door; then, if someone tried to shoot him, Finbar was on his own.

"'Course you escaped," Finbar nodded. "Skul was with you. No one can hold a group of innocent people against their will if Skul-man's one of them. Doesn't matter what reality it is. What happened to the guy? Is he dead?"

Skulduggery glanced at Gabe before answering. "He got what he deserved, yes."

"Gotcha," said Finbar. Whatever conclusions he was coming to, he kept to himself. "Glad to see you two back, safe and sound."

[impudentsongbird]

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?" Gabriel teased gently. He could probably find out, but angels didn't tend to look too deeply into the future. It was for humanity to determine, and there was so much in a state of flux--that was one of the reasons why psychic power tended to be more about impressions than true detailed visions, at least in Gabe's world. Even here, Skul said visions were unreliable.

Gabriel shook his head. "Religion was the first means by why humanity started to really get what my Lord was about, but it's not required, no. Devout Christians can be among the worst of Lucifer's people, while atheists embody all the kindness and love we could wish." He smiled, and it was sad and proud all at once. "Recently my Master and Lucifer had a wager. Joby, the champion my Lord chose, had never heard His name until Lucifer used Christianity to destroy Joby's love of life in just the way you described. Fear and guilt are Lucifer's greatest weapons."

He shrugged and gave Finbar a tiny grin over the rim of his mug. "If you feel you can open some eyes, I'm certainly not going to stop you."

That grin widened and Gabe felt an unexpected thrill of warmth. Back. As if Gabe came from this reality. As if he belonged in this reality. "It's good to be here," he murmured with a slowly growing smile, the sort that was so radiant it could almost light up the room. "I like it. There's interesting people. Good people."

[skeletonenigma]

Gabe's growing smile was perfectly mirroring Finbar's own spreading grin. "Y'know, you guys ain't half as bad as you're portrayed. I always sort of imagined hellfire licking everyone but the most devout, you know? I like you."

"He does tend to have that effect," Skulduggery agreed. Maybe it was because of those preconceptions, but Gabe being generally decent did seem to be the general consensus. It was the same decision Skulduggery had come to back at Landel's. Whatever religion might say and whatever Gabe's family was like, Gabriel was definitely an Archangel, and he was definitely far more mellow, kind, and interesting than Skulduggery had been led to believe. As a detective, he wasn't in the habit of ignoring facts.

"Am I allowed to ask questions?" Finbar's grin had, if possible, grown even wider, and he didn't wait for an answer. "How does prayer work? Do you hear everything, or just certain ones? What's God like? Wait, no, don't tell me." Finbar has his hands up, once again, in a gesture of surrender. "He's an excellent poker player, isn't He? I mean, that poker face alone..."

[impudentsongbird]

"The whole hellfire thing is just Lucifer's wishful thinking, really," Gabe said, making a face and then grinning at Finbar. "Oh, that's good, because I like you too."

Finbar was odd, but 'odd' was in the eye of the beholder. He was interesting, and curious, and exuberant, with an enthusiasm for living in his own unique way that was infectious. Yes, Gabe liked him, and so would his brothers, and so did--Gabe was certain--his Lord.

The Archangel's grin got so large that it erupted into a laugh of delight, and Gabe set down his tea just so he could lean forward. "Ask Skul about the prayers," he stage-whispered, and then leaned back again to throw up his hands. "I'm fairly certain the only times I've ever won a game of poker with my Lord are because He's let me! That's why He likes Blackjack better, I think. It relies on luck, so He's got more chance of losing--even though of course He always knows when He's going to."

[skeletonenigma]

That was something Skulduggery had always wondered about, actually. How did you gamble with an omnipotent and omniscient being? Where was the fun for either party? God was becoming more and more fascinating with each new tidbit of information Gabe revealed.

Finbar laughed. "I like a man who isn't afraid to lose." He paused, as if silently trying to pick apart that sentence in his mind, or change it around so it made a little more sense; then he gave up and moved on. "What about those prayers, Skul?"

Rolling his eyes. That was also a new and welcome sensation that Skulduggery appreciated having at his disposal for the moment. "God hears everything, and Gabe hears anything with his name in it. You get to leap to the front of the queue, apparently."

"I do?" Finbar blinked. "Why? Because I'm psychic?"

"And Gabriel is the patron saint of psychics."

Finbar's eyes widened. "That's also true? I'm flattered. Don't think I'm going to be praying for anything for a while, though." He hesitated, and then smiled a wide and worrying smile. "Unless you can convince Skul-man to give me some of that red sand in his boots you mentioned."

[impudentsongbird]

Without fear of losing, mostly. That was one of the reasons Gabe often acted like a dealer so his Master could play against Himself. When it came to things like poker, the fun was in the playing and spending of time together, not in the winning for either one of them. Otherwise, they would both have gotten bored and angry quite easily.

Though once Gabe started thinking about it, he rather thought his Lord had just been waiting, patiently, for Gabe to get a little bit annoyed at always losing, instead of just taking it. In spite of that suspicion, Gabe couldn't quite manage it.

"Yep, that's true," Gabe said with a nod and a quiet laugh. "I also hear the prayers of people in my immediate vicinity, but any angel close enough can answer them." The Archangel tilted his head at Skulduggery, his eyes twinkling with a similar teasing mirth to that in Finbar's eyes. "Well, Skul? I doubt you're using it for much, and it really is a lovely colour."

[skeletonenigma]

Skulduggery was silent for a few moments, looking between the two with a sort of exasperated humour on his face; then he reached down, pulled off his shoe, and tossed it onto the table. "Knock yourselves out."

"Hey, watch out for the tea!" Finbar pulled his own mug protectively towards himself before smiling again. "Thanks a lot. Hey, mind if I keep the shoe as well? A genuine otherworldly container's just as important, you know."

Skulduggery didn't answer. He was too busy staring down at his bare foot, which... was actually a bare foot, rather than the skeletal remains of one. Slightly unnerving. It also brought back unpleasant memories of the Institute, fuzzy slippers, and being forced into a living human body, which was very unnerving.

The silence didn't seem to matter, though. Finbar had already pulled the shoe towards his mug, having apparently decided that there was no possible reason Skulduggery would say no.

[comedianhealer]

"But you can't see it while it's in the shoe," Gabriel pointed out, tugging his mug aside before the boot knocked it over. He pursed his lips in thought, studying the boot as if trying to re-imagine it. "A glass bottle might be better. That way it'd be on display."

He grinned sidelong at Skull. "Of course, we should probably make sure none of Skul's toe-bones have gotten lost in there first."

~~~

There was a part of Raphael which told him it was too late. That said there was no way Gabriel could have gotten this far, bearing the burden of the friend he meant to rescue. That they were lost, because surely Gabe's friend would be only human, all but useless in this maelstrom. It was only because he and Merlin had had each other to pull each other back from their individual missteps that they'd made it this far.

Then Raphael called that part of him Luci and told it to shut up, because if anyone could make it through this alone it would be his little brother.

In fact, the greater problem was that Rafe didn't know how much further he could go, and they hadn't had any time to rest after that last universe. (It was actually some sort of pocket-universe, and they'd only found it because Rafe had felt a resonance and accidentally stepped through the hole connecting it to another, greater universe. As it turned out a version of Rafe himself--herself?--was there, in the middle of some kind of argument with a not-so-lesser angel about Heaven's weapons, but Rafe and Merlin had felt it prudent not to linger.)

The Archangel was beginning to stumble with worrying frequency. Rafe couldn't even pretend he wasn't, because Merlin, cupped in the sphere of protection Rafe's wings created, could feel every jolt. And it wasn't just him. Rafe had healed Merlin's voice so many times the Archangel was beginning to wonder if there was a point at which it would just refuse to be healed again. Right now, the Ancient wasn't even speaking anything specific--nothing more specific than Gabriel's name. The effect with the gathered strains around them was like being crowded by a shoal of fish.

'There must be something more we can do to narrow the search,' Merlin thought at him, and Rafe knew he wasn't imagining the plea hidden in the magician's mental voice.

As if Rafe hadn't been furiously thinking of an answer to this himself. He felt as if there was indeed something, lingering just out of reach.

'There is,' he said back. 'There must be.'

'How was he intending to find his friend?' Merlin asked, and Rafe sighed. He didn't exactly have weight here, but the sound still left a faint ripple in the cacophony around them, big enough to make the Archangel stagger one step before catching his balance.

'He didn't say.'

For a long time, how long Rafe couldn't say, they said nothing to each other. Then, finally: 'Did he come back from his first meeting with this friend with anything?'

'No--'

Yes, Rafe realised abruptly with such a thrill of dawning, desperate hope that his wings trembled and he had to pull them tighter into their cocoon. 'Yes! He had a knotted rosary--I saw him with it just before he went off to speak to our Lord alone.'

And it had taken him all this time to remember it, he thought with chagrin.

Merlin's presence was filled with exasperation too weary to burn for long. It was instead replaced by hope and a demand for Rafe to show him, already, because he wasn't an angel and he was very much looking forward to getting out of this cacophony, thank Him very much. With a silent chuckle Rafe opened his mind to the Ancient to let him pick out the details he needed.

A moment later Merlin's voice, hoarse and cracking, spoke out the resonances of the rosary, its owner, where he had--and hadn't--received it, and what he might be using it for. The melody thrummed around them, two and three threads similar.

Rafe followed them all, hoping that eventually only one would be come clear.

[skeletonenigma]

Skulduggery knew Gabe well enough by now to know that the Archangel was probably not being serious. Still, it was probably best to make sure. "And have any?" he asked with one eyebrow raised as Finbar dipped a hand into the boot. With Gabe's illusion, Skulduggery couldn't even be sure he would have felt a small bone detaching itself.

"Don't think so." Finbar pulled out a handful of the sparkling red sand and let it sift through his fingers back into the boot, grinning. "Sharon's going to be so impressed. Thanks, but no thanks. A glass bottle would just ruin it." The grin slowly slid into a frown. "You change your ringtone, Skul-man?"

Skulduggery glanced up. "No." He paused, all too aware of the unfamiliar shape and weight of the phone in the breast pocket of his jacket. "Well, maybe. It's technically a new phone. Why?"

"That music." Finbar leaned forward in his chair and tilted his head, listening to something Skulduggery couldn't hear. It definitely wasn't his phone. "At least, I think it's music. Don't know where it's coming from, but..."

His faraway gaze moved over to Gabe, and all of a sudden the gaze wasn't so faraway anymore. The heated intensity Skulduggery had learned to recognize and watch out for flashed briefly in the tattooist's eyes, and the detective had leaped to his feet before Finbar keeled backward out of his chair, like a strong and invisible force suddenly and violently knocked him backwards.

"Finbar." Skulduggery rushed over and pulled him gently up, but the psychic was dead to the world now, eyes rolling back in his head and lips muttering something unfamiliar. "Finbar. What's happening? What do you see?"

More meaningless muttering, and then Finbar's face drifted into a lazy smile. His tone of voice had grown, if possible, even more absentminded; he wasn't in the physical plane anymore, and he'd described it before as like being high. The ultimate pleasure. Keeping him focused was difficult enough when he was lucid; this was going to be almost impossible. "I don't know, man, but... it's beautiful. Loud, and... and clanging."

"What do you see?"

Finbar's hands flew up to block his ears. "Really loud. Oh god, it's..."

"What do you see, Finbar?"

"Right now?" A weak chuckle. "Nothing. I don't think I can see it. It's like when you wanted me to find the portal, Skul-man, 'cept no dark things this time." He hesitated. "But I think there's another break. Hang on."

"Wait."

"It'll just take a minute..."

"Finbar." The last time the psychic had investigated a 'break' like this, a Faceless One possessed him for a brief time. That couldn't happen again. That wouldn't happen again, not on Skulduggery's watch. "Don't try and find anything. Just tell me what you're seeing."

"I can't help it, Skul-man. I'm not controlling this one. I think the break's drawing me in."

This wasn't a coincidence. Finbar having a vision like this right when Skulduggery and Gabe were visiting had to mean something. Skulduggery just couldn't for the life of him figure out what that something was yet. Gabe's brothers? Something worse?

[impudentsongbird]

At first, like the psychic himself, Gabe thought that Finbar was only hearing a musical tone in the physical world. The Archangel himself heard nothing, the state of his true body hiding any truly subtle nuances from him. Then he felt the tingle, not of his own power but of another's power against him--forceful and uncontrolled. The instant Finbar's gaze met his, the presence of the psychic's vision rang out like a bell even through Gabe's aching body.

It made his head throb. The Archangel flinched, pressing the heel of one palm against his temple, but he was still already rising by the time Skulduggery had moved around the table. He couldn't exactly see what Finbar was seeing, but he could hear the echoes of it, especially given the power of that place--even as dulled as it was. Pale, Gabe limped around the table and dropped by Finbar.

"Finbar," he said, and his tone rang with a Command. To Skul, the Archangel's voice only sounded more resonant. To Finbar, it would be an anchor to keep him in the here-and-now without interrupting what he was Seeing.

Gabe laid a hand on the psychic's forehead to read him more clearly in that passive way and then rocked back with a slight whimper at the surge of noise.

The rosary around his neck hummed. The Archangel's eyes snapped open, and his gaze was so grounded in a way that if Skul looked him in the eyes it would be like looking into the star-lit sky or across the horizon of the ocean, and knowing how small he was. "Rafe," he whispered. "It's Rafe. And Merlin. They're lost. Finbar, I--"

The Archangel spread his wings over the man like a protective, focussing canopy, nudging Finbar's mind with his in an unspoken plea. 'Please, may I speak with him?'

He needed Finbar for that. Finbar was the one with the connection. Even if all Gabe managed was a few words, it would be enough to give Rafe and Merlin a solid line to follow. The rest would be up to them.

But if he didn't, Gabe feared his brother and his nephew would be lost forever.

[skeletonenigma]

It never failed to throw the detective off-guard. Yes, Gabriel was an Archangel, and yes, he was eons old, God's right-hand man, existing on a metaphysical plane Skulduggery couldn't touch. But it was one thing to know something; it was quite another to be faced so plainly with its truth. When Gabe first revealed his true form back in the other dimension, Skulduggery had been, to put it mildly, in awe. And he'd been trying to steel himself against further such surprises ever since. A futile effort, apparently, since Skulduggery was just as thrown by the Archangel's eyes in those few seconds as he'd been by the giant white wings.

For a moment, what his friend had actually said didn't register. Skulduggery was trying to imagine the weight of the years and the power behind that gaze, and probably failing miserably. There was so much unsurpassable distance there that he didn't think it was possible for the two of them to be kneeling across from each other like they were.

But Skulduggery's earlier suspicions were confirmed a moment later when he realized what Gabriel was actually saying. Rafe. It was really going to happen, he thought numbly; what they'd joked and worried about intermittently throughout the day was now happening right in front of him. Gabe's brother, another Archangel, was coming for him. Coming for him through the maelstrom and sheer buffeting noise that made up Skulduggery's limited view of the space between realities, glimpsed through Gabe's wings during the journey here.

It was all very heartwarming, except for two things: first of all, there would now be two holes ripped into the side of this dimension that could already barely handle its own strain. And second, there wouldn't have been so many Sensitives having the same vision if it didn't mean -

- Merlin?

Skulduggery's thoughts didn't stop, exactly; they just weren't really sure where to go next. Outwardly, his illusory eyes blinked, and that was all the indication of the struggle he was now going through just to keep his fragile sanity somewhat intact.

Maybe, Skulduggery decided, he was still trapped with the Faceless Ones. Maybe this was all a fantasy his snapped and broken mind was playing for him while the torture went on. And while Skulduggery didn't truly believe that, it did help to clear his mind for the time being.

Not that he was going to be much help here, clear-headed or otherwise.

A frown line creased Finbar's brow. He'd heard Gabriel's plea, but the nature of his magic - combined with the grounding effect of Gabe's earlier spoken word - demanded that he answer as normally as possible, which meant out loud with his mouth. "You mean... you want me to go through the break?"

Whatever or whoever was in that sea of sound had been tapping at the edge of Finbar's awareness for a while, but he couldn't tap back - not without at least dipping a toe in the water. The tone of his question was laced with genuine fear, but when Finbar spoke again, it was with a determined resolve. These were Archangels, after all. "Sure. Just give me a minute."

[impudentsongbird]

Some part of Gabriel was aware of the way Skul's thoughts had just ground to a halt, but what he was feeling--what Finbar was Seeing--was far too important to focus on anything else. Gabe wasn't sure which part of what was happening was giving Skul pause, and the Archangel would apologise for whatever it was.

But later. After this had been resolved.

"No," Gabe blurted with horror. He shifted, seating himself properly on the ground, and drew Finbar into his arms to kiss the psychic's forehead, infusing Finbar with reassurance and calm. "No, I won't ask that of you, little brother. I can use you as a conduit. It will not be easy, but it will be as safe for you as I can make it." He waited for Finbar's permission, and when it came the Archangel exhaled slowly and with relief, resting his forehead on the sorcerer's.

"Thank you," Gabe whispered, letting gratitude and confidence and strength seep into Finbar to prepare the psychic for the strain to come.

The consent was enough to open Finbar to the Archangel. Gabriel let all the psychic was flow past him without catching; he focussed on Finbar's Sight instead, on where the cacophony of the ocean between realities touched his mind and opened a breach. The rosary resonated against the Archangel's chest, but now Gabe could hear echoes in that noise--the echoes of other rosaries.

Rafe and Merlin wouldn't have the details to separate those tunes more than they already had. Yet, these were his brother, his nephew, the ones from his world--Gabe could sense it in the feedback.

Carefully Gabe wrapped Finbar in his mental presence, soothing and protective, and took on the burden of that sound. It rang through him; he directed it inward, where Finbar wouldn't be able to feel it. Outwardly, his face creased with pain, his head pounding. Nonetheless, Archangel murmured the tune of the rosary, let it strengthen, and then threw it back through the breach Finbar's mind had touched, a hint of a new tune carried on the rosary's simple melody.

'Raphael! Merlin!'

~~~

How much longer could they possibly endure? Rafe wondered. The Archangel was limping more often than not, now, his step catch on every second one. Merlin's voice was beginning to crack again; Raphael had already healed it twice since they'd found the rosary's tune.

It wasn't enough. There were still several potential routes to follow, stretching off away from each other; Rafe couldn't stop, because to stop would be like a tree trying to stand firm against a flood. But he paced between where the melodies intersected as they tried to determine which one to follow.

And then, quite suddenly--

'Raphael! Merlin!'

--Gabriel's Voice vibrated one of the threads. The sound, quiet as it was in comparison to everything else, was nevertheless so unexpected and so clear that Raphael jerked with surprise. For a moment the cacophony crashed against his wings and Merlin's voice wavered; then the Archangel yanked their protective shield back around them both again.

It can't be--

'Gabriel!' Merlin cried.

'This way,' Gabe whispered, and the melody vibrated again. This time Merlin heard it, matched it, kept it alive. Suddenly with a solid path beneath his feet, Raphael followed that sound, casting his relieved thanks to his Lord into the ocean of this abyss.

~~~

Gabriel withdrew himself from Finbar's consciousness, slowly and gently like a fluttering moth, but kept himself close to protect the psychic from the noise and the potential of falling into the breach. Just in case, until this vision ended. The Archangel lifted his face and opened his eyes, the expression in them still deep and weighted and more solid than anything else in the room.

"They're coming," he said simply.

[skeletonenigma]

If there was a way to make an innocent phrase sound any more ominous, Skulduggery had yet to find it.

This was going to cause problems. This was going to cause a whole lot of problems. This was already causing problems. But Skulduggery couldn't think about any of that right now; he shoved the associated thought processes to the back of his mind, in the hopes that his subconscious would continue to work on possible solutions and present them right when they were needed. It was a tactic that had worked well in the past.

Still, Skulduggery was... jealous? No, not exactly. Not of the obvious love Gabriel was displaying, or of the way Gabe's family truly risked Heaven and Earth for each other. If anything, Skulduggery was jealous of how long and grueling and straining the life of an Archangel was - and that even despite all that, despite the current fear and desperate situation and possibility of failure, Gabriel was still strongly hopeful and full of love and care for a man he'd known all of half an hour.

Skulduggery used to think that sort of thing made the Archangel naive. Now, the sight of it filled him with respect.

It was by no means completely painless for Finbar. More than once his entire body had bucked and writhed, vibrations traveling out from where Gabe's forehead rested against his, and Skulduggery despised feeling useless. It wasn't something he was used to - though the Institute had very quickly forced him to be - and it left a sour taste in his temporary mouth. His whole body trembled throughout the ordeal like it was on the edge of a pin, and he'd almost surged forward when Finbar let out a soft scream, stopped only by Gabriel's return to awareness.

Skulduggery should be trusting him to have everyone's best interests at heart, trusting him absolutely, but he knew all too well how clouded someone's judgment could get when family became involved. Archangels, from what little Skulduggery had seen, were no different from anyone else in that regard. He caught and held Gabe's gaze this time, ignoring how insignificant the look was making him feel.

"They were lost," he repeated. Raphael and... and Merlin. That name, once again, gave him pause. "We come to visit Finbar, and he just happens to have a vision right in front of you. A vision that you can use to save them. Does that strike you as a coincidence?"

Someone powerful was pulling the strings. That much, Skulduggery knew he could handle. Most insidious plots to end the world nowadays were being orchestrated by someone powerful, and it was always a bit of a dance trying to get to them. But Skulduggery always did, and he always dealt with them accordingly.

He didn't know what to do this time. He barely knew what to think. The only person in existence with the knowledge and power to orchestrate a coincidence like that was... well. Someone that 'a bit of a dance' wasn't going to do a whole lot to.

[impudentsongbird]

"Does it strike you?" Gabriel asked, and his eyes were piercing in a way they had rarely been before. Piercing and not exactly glowing, but lit with a serene kind of certainty, a knowledge. He already knew what Skul was thinking. He already knew it because the Archangel was thinking it too. Perhaps it was merely a sequence, a chain which had begun with Merlin speaking on the rosary, with the resonances reaching out to Gabe and touching Finbar instead. Maybe it was as simple as an accidental trigger.

But Gabe very rarely believed in coincidences, because, quite frequently, what humanity saw as 'coincidences' were a series of deliberate prods from both the angelic and the demonic. There was a purpose in that 'accidental' vision.

The Archangel blinked and looked down at Finbar, but cradling the psychic's consciousness as he was, Gabriel still seemed a step apart. Less Gabe, the American cowboy, more Gabriel, the Archangel. He already knew he was going to regret this show of activity, once the breach closed. Even now the residue of the music ran across his inside feathers, and whenever it puttered out against his flight-feathers he felt the twitch of it against the gouges on their backs. The thunder in his head was presence, but distant. Set aside.

He could bear it, for the moment.

"Finbar," he said gently, his thumb stroking the psychic's temple, and this time there wasn't so much an order as a request. "It's enough, little brother. Come back."

[skeletonenigma]

Skulduggery didn't need to be a psychic to see that Gabriel was thinking the same thing. But where the idea unnerved Skulduggery and caused him to treat it like another one of his cases - a mystery to solve - it brought Gabe serenity. And of course it would. The Archangel went to theme parks with Him. To Gabe, He was nothing more than a loving father and protector, everywhere at once and solid, irrefutable fact.

So then He wasn't... or maybe He was. Skulduggery was having a hard time justifying his thoughts even to himself right now. Hell, he was having trouble thinking the name, let alone imagining that He might have been there all along. Been here all along.

At the risk of using hackneyed cliche, this was way above Skulduggery's pay grade.

Finbar had grown quiet and still, almost like he'd been sleeping the entire time. Gabriel's soothing touch was enough to gently tug him out of the heightened state characteristic of most of his visions, and the tattooist slowly sat up with a short groan.

Unlike most psychics, Finbar's faraway gaze was his more usual state of being, and the intensity that blazed in his face and eyes before and after visions like this was always startling to anyone who knew him. But Skulduggery was grateful for it this time. More likely than not, it meant there wasn't any lasting damage, and he could release the metaphorical breath he'd been holding.

As Skulduggery watched, that intensity faded, and Finbar Wrong was back. He blinked once, twice, glanced up at Gabe. "Did it work?"