Fic: Rogue (Gabriel/M, Gabriel/F, PG-13) 28/36
For full notes and other chapters, please see the Masterpost.
Notes: This is the third part of the Missing an Angel series. It is recommended that you read the first two before reading this one.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 1,731
Chapter Summary: When an angel and a Nephilim plot together, crazy genius ideas are born.
CHAPTER 28:
Closing a Gate
“So this Beelzebub…”
“They call him the Prince of Hell. He’s strong, Jane. One of the strongest demons that ever was.” Gabriel paced the length of the room, his hands tucked behind his back. “Beelzebub and Lilith fight? I’d put my money on Bub.”
“Azazel?”
“Azazel could kick his ass, absolutely. Azazel is the strongest demon ever. He’s the sixth-oldest creature… well, seventh-oldest if you count God. Well, eighth-oldest if you count Death. And the Leviathan… Azazel’s the sixth-oldest angel in creation, and Filiel’s dead. Short of an Archangel actually doing the double fall, he’s the strongest demon that ever will be. But Beelzebub’s not far behind him. Stronger than Alastair, but not as smart.” Gabriel’s wings fluttered in agitation as he turned sharply to pace along a new side of the room. “Lilith’s probably fourth or fifth on the sheer physical strength scale, but she has a power and prestige they don’t. She’s the first. Angels put a lot of stock in the hierarchy of creation order.”
“Really?” Jane asked dead-pan. “I couldn’t tell.”
Gabriel created a pillow with a snap and threw it at her, but his daughter only caught it with a laugh. “I can’t help how I’m created! Besides, the older things are stronger. For something to be the first is… impressive. Lilith gets to command the demons on that alone.”
“Even though she’s half-melted into the gates.”
“Apparently.” Gabriel sighed and turned a second corner.
Jane sat back on the bed, hugging the pillow Gabriel had chucked at her as she watched him pace, trying to understand the situation. “I thought Lilith being melted into the gates trapped all the demons in Hell. How is Beelzebub running around?”
“They can dig their way out, but it’s dangerous. Hell has defenses that work both ways. They’d be risking their lives just trying to escape, regardless of how powerful they were.”
“So the leaders send the grunts, and hunters up here deal with low-level clean up.”
“Exactly.”
“Papa…” Jane bit her lip, glancing toward the window. “I saw a demon hunt once, in Mozambique. It killed two hunters before the third could exorcise it, and they were all experienced veterans. If that was a grunt…”
Gabriel nodded solemnly, sinking onto the mattress at the foot of the bed. “Demons are strong, Jane, stronger than most monsters the humans interact with. There are only about six score on Earth at any given moment these days, after the gates were destroyed, but even those few are nasty. They’re about as immortal as an angel, even the ones that started off human.”
“About as immortal? Like me?”
Gabriel pushed off the bed again, unable to stay still for long. He stalked over to the window, gripping the sill and looking out.
In 1704, Jane had left India with Gabriel, and the two had been travelling the world ever since. On the whole, they had no defined home. Wherever they went, they took common service jobs, slipping unnoticed into the lives of humans and attempting to teach them some lessons in morality and ethics.
It became all the more important to keep moving when Jane’s aging slowed. Gabriel didn’t know what the lifespan of a Nephilim was-as far as he was aware, every Nephilim had been killed long before old age claimed them. They must have lived for centuries in Hell, with the temporal disconnect that spun ten years into a month, but beyond that, Gabriel hadn’t known what to expect. In 1732, Gabriel first realized that Jane’s face was a good decade younger than her peers. Now, in 1849, Jane barely looked any older. Her aging hadn’t stopped--if Gabriel concentrated, he could make out the minute physical changes to her body and soul-but it took her a century to change as much as a year. If this rate of growth kept up, Jane probably had another good eighty centuries ahead of her. She wasn’t immortal, per se, but she was functionally so.
As a more pressing concern, Jane could be killed. Gabriel knew this for a fact, having slaughtered Jane’s kin with his own sword all those centuries ago, but he wasn’t sure if Nephilim had any of the angelic invulnerabilities to the weapons of mortals. From his experience, Jane was much less likely to get a bruise or scrape in her everyday life, but she had broken her arm in a fall once. A knife could cut her skin, and a bullet could pierce her flesh (as they had discovered in 1785, when they were grooms at a country house and she had turned down the drunken advances of the young master…). There was no sensible armor Gabriel could create for Jane to wear daily, so instead he had focused on teaching her how to fight. He hated the thought of turning his daughter into a warrior like every angel in the Host, but the girl needed to be able to defend herself if Gabriel ever wasn’t near.
As Gabriel had feared, Jane took to fighting like a duck to water. She had the same superior strength, speed, and stamina that the Nephilim of old had possessed-perhaps even more so. The power of an Archangel thrummed through her veins when her eyes turned silver, and she was soon capable of matching Gabriel in a direct spar. A handful of times, she had even managed to get past his guard and stab him in the heart; they always used mortal weapons when they sparred, and Jane was ordered to never hold back. A steel knife couldn’t kill Gabriel. It barely even stung when it was buried deep into his chest. Jane fought with a combination of angelic techniques and human ingenuity, and the results were frighteningly deadly.
Gabriel was glad he no longer feared that Jane would turn on him. They were allies to the end of time, no matter who came after them.
“Not like you,” Gabriel finally answered Jane. “They absolutely do not age at all. They never get sick, and they very rarely even realize that they’re injured. They don’t need to eat, sleep, or breathe, and they cannot be killed without some form of magic. An angel’s grace. A godly spell. A rune-imbued projectile. Those are about the only ways to kill a demon. The best most humans can do is exorcise them, return them to Hell and force them to claw their way out again.”
“I see.” Jane fluffed up the pillow she held before crushing it against her chest again. “Papa, if demons are so hard to kill, why don’t we ever hunt them? You’re an angel and a god both. You can kill demons… can’t you?”
Gabriel closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the glass. “A very good friend of mine,” he began, then stopped. Fergus. Cariel. “He sold… He thought I was gone. I came back too late to save him.”
The bed creaked as Jane climbed off it, padding gently across the room to wrap Gabriel in a hug from behind. He turned to his daughter, folding arms and wings around her tightly. Your father is a demon, he thought, but couldn’t tell her. He had never told her. I don’t want to know what they’ve done to him.
“I couldn’t fight him if I tried,” Gabriel sighed against Jane’s hair. “I don’t want to risk ever being in that situation.”
“So we avoid demons.”
“The rank and file are difficult for humans to handle,” Gabriel said, “but not impossible. A bit of a challenge will do them some good. But this, Beelzebub… humans have nothing that can kill him. Angels need to step in, but they’re all stuck up in Heaven and won’t come down for anything short of the Apocalypse.”
“So we step in.”
“Exactly.” Gabriel took a deep breath and stepped away from Jane, pacing the room again. “We need to kill Beelzebub and reclose the Gate. It’s more important that we close the Gate. Beelzebub said anyone could open it. It doesn’t have to be him.”
“How do we close the gate?” Jane asked, turning to watch Gabriel pace.
“I don’t know,” Gabriel admitted. “It’s sealed with Lilith herself right now. I thought that would be enough, but it’s already pulled open so far. It’s poisoning the land there.”
“What happens if it opens?”
“If the Hell Gate opens, then demons will pour forth.” Gabriel closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against them. “You weren’t alive when the gates were open before. Earth was a mess. Fires, plagues, famine… demons had their claws in most of humanity’s great disasters in the past thousand years. The Black Death was their pride and joy. They’d bring it back. They burn and riot and destroy, Jane. They would destroy Earth.”
“And we can’t close the gate again?” Jane ran her hands through her hair, thinking. “But they’re demons, right? Just demons?”
“Just demons, she says,” Gabriel muttered. “Yes, just demons. And some hellhounds and night cats and things like that, but all demonic.”
“What if we capped the gate?”
“Capped?” Gabriel frowned at Jane, but her eyes were already glittering silver from excitement, a sure sign that she had a plan forming.
“Yes, capped! They’re demons! Weak to salt, to iron, to holiness! To wards! We know where the gate is now, right? Never knew that before. We have a location, so all we have to do is make a giant devil’s trap around it. No demons can get in to break the gate open, and no demons can get out just in case some human is stupid enough to do so. We cap it!”
“A giant devil’s trap,” Gabriel repeated. “And how, exactly, do you propose we create a devil’s trap that will stand up to time? It’s no good if it washes away with the first good rain.”
“Iron,” Jane answered, walking over to the window and pointing. “Great big ribbons of iron.”
Gabriel came up to Jane’s side, looking where she was pointing. Before her finger, a railway stretched away from the city in an unbroken line. The iron path was admired and treated with respect. It was cared for by humans who saw the value in quick transportation, and it would endure for centuries. “Jane,” he murmured, draping his arms around her shoulders, “you are a genius.”
Next...
Notes: This is the third part of the Missing an Angel series. It is recommended that you read the first two before reading this one.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 1,731
Chapter Summary: When an angel and a Nephilim plot together, crazy genius ideas are born.
CHAPTER 28:
Closing a Gate
“So this Beelzebub…”
“They call him the Prince of Hell. He’s strong, Jane. One of the strongest demons that ever was.” Gabriel paced the length of the room, his hands tucked behind his back. “Beelzebub and Lilith fight? I’d put my money on Bub.”
“Azazel?”
“Azazel could kick his ass, absolutely. Azazel is the strongest demon ever. He’s the sixth-oldest creature… well, seventh-oldest if you count God. Well, eighth-oldest if you count Death. And the Leviathan… Azazel’s the sixth-oldest angel in creation, and Filiel’s dead. Short of an Archangel actually doing the double fall, he’s the strongest demon that ever will be. But Beelzebub’s not far behind him. Stronger than Alastair, but not as smart.” Gabriel’s wings fluttered in agitation as he turned sharply to pace along a new side of the room. “Lilith’s probably fourth or fifth on the sheer physical strength scale, but she has a power and prestige they don’t. She’s the first. Angels put a lot of stock in the hierarchy of creation order.”
“Really?” Jane asked dead-pan. “I couldn’t tell.”
Gabriel created a pillow with a snap and threw it at her, but his daughter only caught it with a laugh. “I can’t help how I’m created! Besides, the older things are stronger. For something to be the first is… impressive. Lilith gets to command the demons on that alone.”
“Even though she’s half-melted into the gates.”
“Apparently.” Gabriel sighed and turned a second corner.
Jane sat back on the bed, hugging the pillow Gabriel had chucked at her as she watched him pace, trying to understand the situation. “I thought Lilith being melted into the gates trapped all the demons in Hell. How is Beelzebub running around?”
“They can dig their way out, but it’s dangerous. Hell has defenses that work both ways. They’d be risking their lives just trying to escape, regardless of how powerful they were.”
“So the leaders send the grunts, and hunters up here deal with low-level clean up.”
“Exactly.”
“Papa…” Jane bit her lip, glancing toward the window. “I saw a demon hunt once, in Mozambique. It killed two hunters before the third could exorcise it, and they were all experienced veterans. If that was a grunt…”
Gabriel nodded solemnly, sinking onto the mattress at the foot of the bed. “Demons are strong, Jane, stronger than most monsters the humans interact with. There are only about six score on Earth at any given moment these days, after the gates were destroyed, but even those few are nasty. They’re about as immortal as an angel, even the ones that started off human.”
“About as immortal? Like me?”
Gabriel pushed off the bed again, unable to stay still for long. He stalked over to the window, gripping the sill and looking out.
In 1704, Jane had left India with Gabriel, and the two had been travelling the world ever since. On the whole, they had no defined home. Wherever they went, they took common service jobs, slipping unnoticed into the lives of humans and attempting to teach them some lessons in morality and ethics.
It became all the more important to keep moving when Jane’s aging slowed. Gabriel didn’t know what the lifespan of a Nephilim was-as far as he was aware, every Nephilim had been killed long before old age claimed them. They must have lived for centuries in Hell, with the temporal disconnect that spun ten years into a month, but beyond that, Gabriel hadn’t known what to expect. In 1732, Gabriel first realized that Jane’s face was a good decade younger than her peers. Now, in 1849, Jane barely looked any older. Her aging hadn’t stopped--if Gabriel concentrated, he could make out the minute physical changes to her body and soul-but it took her a century to change as much as a year. If this rate of growth kept up, Jane probably had another good eighty centuries ahead of her. She wasn’t immortal, per se, but she was functionally so.
As a more pressing concern, Jane could be killed. Gabriel knew this for a fact, having slaughtered Jane’s kin with his own sword all those centuries ago, but he wasn’t sure if Nephilim had any of the angelic invulnerabilities to the weapons of mortals. From his experience, Jane was much less likely to get a bruise or scrape in her everyday life, but she had broken her arm in a fall once. A knife could cut her skin, and a bullet could pierce her flesh (as they had discovered in 1785, when they were grooms at a country house and she had turned down the drunken advances of the young master…). There was no sensible armor Gabriel could create for Jane to wear daily, so instead he had focused on teaching her how to fight. He hated the thought of turning his daughter into a warrior like every angel in the Host, but the girl needed to be able to defend herself if Gabriel ever wasn’t near.
As Gabriel had feared, Jane took to fighting like a duck to water. She had the same superior strength, speed, and stamina that the Nephilim of old had possessed-perhaps even more so. The power of an Archangel thrummed through her veins when her eyes turned silver, and she was soon capable of matching Gabriel in a direct spar. A handful of times, she had even managed to get past his guard and stab him in the heart; they always used mortal weapons when they sparred, and Jane was ordered to never hold back. A steel knife couldn’t kill Gabriel. It barely even stung when it was buried deep into his chest. Jane fought with a combination of angelic techniques and human ingenuity, and the results were frighteningly deadly.
Gabriel was glad he no longer feared that Jane would turn on him. They were allies to the end of time, no matter who came after them.
“Not like you,” Gabriel finally answered Jane. “They absolutely do not age at all. They never get sick, and they very rarely even realize that they’re injured. They don’t need to eat, sleep, or breathe, and they cannot be killed without some form of magic. An angel’s grace. A godly spell. A rune-imbued projectile. Those are about the only ways to kill a demon. The best most humans can do is exorcise them, return them to Hell and force them to claw their way out again.”
“I see.” Jane fluffed up the pillow she held before crushing it against her chest again. “Papa, if demons are so hard to kill, why don’t we ever hunt them? You’re an angel and a god both. You can kill demons… can’t you?”
Gabriel closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the glass. “A very good friend of mine,” he began, then stopped. Fergus. Cariel. “He sold… He thought I was gone. I came back too late to save him.”
The bed creaked as Jane climbed off it, padding gently across the room to wrap Gabriel in a hug from behind. He turned to his daughter, folding arms and wings around her tightly. Your father is a demon, he thought, but couldn’t tell her. He had never told her. I don’t want to know what they’ve done to him.
“I couldn’t fight him if I tried,” Gabriel sighed against Jane’s hair. “I don’t want to risk ever being in that situation.”
“So we avoid demons.”
“The rank and file are difficult for humans to handle,” Gabriel said, “but not impossible. A bit of a challenge will do them some good. But this, Beelzebub… humans have nothing that can kill him. Angels need to step in, but they’re all stuck up in Heaven and won’t come down for anything short of the Apocalypse.”
“So we step in.”
“Exactly.” Gabriel took a deep breath and stepped away from Jane, pacing the room again. “We need to kill Beelzebub and reclose the Gate. It’s more important that we close the Gate. Beelzebub said anyone could open it. It doesn’t have to be him.”
“How do we close the gate?” Jane asked, turning to watch Gabriel pace.
“I don’t know,” Gabriel admitted. “It’s sealed with Lilith herself right now. I thought that would be enough, but it’s already pulled open so far. It’s poisoning the land there.”
“What happens if it opens?”
“If the Hell Gate opens, then demons will pour forth.” Gabriel closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against them. “You weren’t alive when the gates were open before. Earth was a mess. Fires, plagues, famine… demons had their claws in most of humanity’s great disasters in the past thousand years. The Black Death was their pride and joy. They’d bring it back. They burn and riot and destroy, Jane. They would destroy Earth.”
“And we can’t close the gate again?” Jane ran her hands through her hair, thinking. “But they’re demons, right? Just demons?”
“Just demons, she says,” Gabriel muttered. “Yes, just demons. And some hellhounds and night cats and things like that, but all demonic.”
“What if we capped the gate?”
“Capped?” Gabriel frowned at Jane, but her eyes were already glittering silver from excitement, a sure sign that she had a plan forming.
“Yes, capped! They’re demons! Weak to salt, to iron, to holiness! To wards! We know where the gate is now, right? Never knew that before. We have a location, so all we have to do is make a giant devil’s trap around it. No demons can get in to break the gate open, and no demons can get out just in case some human is stupid enough to do so. We cap it!”
“A giant devil’s trap,” Gabriel repeated. “And how, exactly, do you propose we create a devil’s trap that will stand up to time? It’s no good if it washes away with the first good rain.”
“Iron,” Jane answered, walking over to the window and pointing. “Great big ribbons of iron.”
Gabriel came up to Jane’s side, looking where she was pointing. Before her finger, a railway stretched away from the city in an unbroken line. The iron path was admired and treated with respect. It was cared for by humans who saw the value in quick transportation, and it would endure for centuries. “Jane,” he murmured, draping his arms around her shoulders, “you are a genius.”
Next...