impudentsongbird: (since the very start)
Gabriel ([personal profile] impudentsongbird) wrote 2012-10-19 03:26 pm (UTC)

"Don't talk," Gabriel admonished the detective quickly and with a censuring, but somehow amused, smile. "And you told me off for trying to do things beyond my means." With that gentle tease the Archangel laid his hand on Skulduggery's arm, leaning on the detective as they made their way down the aisle between the pews.

For a moment the Archangel gazed sadly at Valkyrie, and in a split-second decided that this emergency wasn't quite over yet--enough to risk another use of power. 'Fletcher? If you can take China home as well, I would appreciate it. And then ... and then go where you see fit.'

The tone of the telepathy wasn't dismissive, but resigned and sad and acknowledging that maybe Fletcher wouldn't want to be here either. That maybe he'd want to stay with Valkyrie, or go looking for Ghastly. A moment later, some of the tension in Gabe's wings left them as he felt a responding acknowledgement--bewildered, but willing to play taxi for China again.

Skulduggery couldn't look at China, so Gabe did, squarely and without reservation of his pain or his tears or his gentle serenity. "Fletcher will take you home in a moment, China," he said. "I can check in on you later, if you like, or you can call me when you're ready. I don't mind which."

With that said he used Skulduggery's support to lower himself awkwardly to the floor beside Crux's catatonic form. The man was trembling, an adrenal reaction perhaps, but his eyes were blank, his mouth moving wordlessly. There was truly nothing left of his mind. Somehow Gabriel doubted what was left of his soul would go anywhere nice. With a regretful, resigned sigh the Archangel reached out and touched the man's chest. Crux's lips ceased their movement. His breathing halted. The life went out of his eyes.

No one else would see it, but his soul separated from his body and for a moment Gabe held it; then he felt the tug of a current, a stream--two of them. One, the faintest residue of necromancy, fading even as it whispered. The other, the lifestream, stronger and resonant with an underlying sound similar, but more melodious, than that of the cacophony. Gabriel opened his hands and let the startled visage of Remus Crux dissolve into that stream to go where he would. "Prave left just after China got here," he said without looking up. "He didn't see. No one else knows."

Post a comment in response:

This account has disabled anonymous posting.
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting