caveofsapphires | hurt myself again today

Entry tags:

hurt myself again today

WHO: Gabriel (Sylvester Wilton), [OPEN]
WHAT: Power discovery goes very, very wrong.
WHERE: Syl's caravan, the Cave, anywhere else it's conceivable to him to be
WHEN: 2 June - 9 June 2012
WARNINGS: None yet
NOTES: Looking for nummy new CR, or call-backs to earlier CR he hasn't spoken to for a while, especially for the initial helping-hand thread, please. :3 Multiple threads with the same character throughout the week are welcome. Also, Gabe will not be able to see peoples' souls for the duration.

Actionspam also welcome if that's better for people!

It was the conversation with the Doctor which had planted the thought in Gabriel's head. Well, the conversation with the Doctor and that little hole Re-l had discovered in the back of the wardrobe. The fact was that his constructs were, technically, a reality-warp. They used the fabric of reality to create something out of nothing ... well, nothing that could be seen, anyway.

And if he could do that, then maybe he could take things a step further into doing something else. Like actual reality manipulation.

Which was why he was staring contemplatively at the wall of Syl's caravan, ratta-tapping the counter. A small pocket to start with, he decided. A little safe in the wall. He could cover it with a painting, or something. It wasn't like anyone would assume there would be anything behind it, given the tininess of the caravan.

In the past he'd found that as long as he kept a detailed image of an object in mind, he shouldn't think too hard about the creation in order for it to work. As long as he knew how it was built, that seemed to be all he needed. Well, he knew how these reality manipulations went. So once he had a structured image of the little hidey-hole in mind, he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.

The ensuing flash of light and shockwave which rattled the caravan was visible from blocks away. Gabriel pushed himself up onto his elbows, his head ringing and back aching as if he'd just been thrown against the far wall--which he had. He moved gingerly, pushing himself up against the wall that opened, breathing hard and blinking, and trying not to be sick. The nauseous feeling passed after a few minutes and the ringing in his head dulled to a slight throb.

His vision faded from the white turn of dizziness into steady blackness, and the archangel's stomach flipped over with dread. "Oh, no."

* * *

The next week was ... well, it was something close to Hell. Gabriel couldn't tell whether his screw-up had permenantly messed with his sight or not, and every time he opened his eyes and saw nothing it twisted his gut to such a degree that he felt sick.

Blind. Not just blind the way his brothers were still blind, but completely. He couldn't even move the caravan far, because he couldn't see the streets; there was an autopilot installed on the driver's booth, because Syl had referenced it in his notes, but the archangel couldn't see to program it in the first place. The archangel was forced to walk if he ever wanted to go anywhere, one hand planted firmly on a wall just so he could make sure he was going the right way.

And no angel radar meant he got lost. Frequently. There were few things as terrifying as having no wall, no concept as to where the wall was, and no idea if he was on the right street.

He managed to find his way to the train back to the Cave, once, on the 7th, with some intention of seeing the doctors there. Then some part of him had spoken up, told him he couldn't very well just give in like that, and he hadn't wound up going to see them at all. Instead he'd wandered, lost, through the Cave until he'd found his way back to the metro and returned to the City with his pride intact and his sanity shot.

The day he woke up to find his sight had returned, blurry at first, he was about ready to weep with relief.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The kitten did not like the laughter, and it yowled sharply, butting against Re-l's hand. She shushed it impatiently, rubbing its ears until it stopped meowing and settled down, collapsing across her neck like a heavy fur ruff.

She took her hand away and walked towards Gabriel, stepping amongst the fragments of china. She caught his shirt and pulled him up to face her. His expression made her stomach drop. His eyes were unfocused, moving slowly and uncertainly. It was a condition she'd seen before, in the slums outside Romdeau. He was blind.

"What happened?" she said, and she didn't even try to keep her voice steady.

The high-pitched kitty-complaint startled the Archangel enough that he managed to stem the tide of laughter, swallowing hard and focussing on his breathing and trying to keep himself under control. Next moment Re-l had yanked him upright and he looked forward, a twisted rictus-smile on his face even while he knew she was right there and he couldn't see her.

"What happened?" he asked, and there was still an edge in his voice. "Whatever makes you think anything fucking happened?"

Just talking. Talking, backpedalling, trying to stall long enough to pull himself together.

Re-l felt his anger from a distance. It wasn't directed towards her at all, and she ignored it. Instead she looked carefully at his eyes. The muscles were functional, obviously, and there was no sign of clouding or cataracts. Nor was there the scarring that would have been obvious if he had somehow damaged his sight with bleach or another corrosive agent. For all intents and purposes, his eyes were in perfectly healthy condition. But he couldn't see.

"You've lost at least ninety per cent of your eyesight in a medically impossible manner," she said, not letting his shirt go. "That's what makes me think something happened."

A horrible thought occurred to her, courtesy of her insight. Because there were certainly powers in this world that went beyond the realm of the physical.

"Tell me someone did this to you," she said, her voice slipping between lips pressed together in anger. "Tell me that you stupidly offended some person with magic, and that I can go and beat them up right now and put this right."

Somehow it was her unspoken concern that doused him with metaphorical cold water. She was willing to beat on someone to take revenge, to make it right. His chest tightened. The Archangel breathing hard, the urge to laugh passed, and Gabriel's humourless grin faded.

"You can't put this right," he said, and his voice wavered a little. "I tried to do something in a way that, as far as I knew, was right and it blew up in my face." He laughed again and lifted a hand to gesture, and this time the sound was bitter, but under control. "Literally."

Re-l couldn't say what made her angriest. Was it that he had taken an unnecessary risk without any kind of plan for failure? Was it that he seemed to care so little about his own welfare? Was it that she hadn't been there to stop him? She had no idea, but it didn't lessen the burning pit of rage in her stomach. She could feel her hands tightening on his shirt, and she knew she was about to do something very stupid.

She let go of Gabriel and walked out of the caravan. The kitten clung to her shoulders, but she tugged it off and put it on the ground, where it meowed at her in confusion. There was a tree nearby, and Re-l concentrated on that. She let the anger seep through her veins, and then she slammed a series of kicks and punches into the tree. Bark flew everywhere, and when she was done there were several solid dents in the trunk, where the wood had splintered away. Re-l dropped down onto her haunches, breathing heavily.

The kitten, who had been watching from a distance, came over and nosed her hands. Her knuckles, which had scabs from her journey, were open and bleeding, and there were several splinters of wood in them. The kitten sniffed them and meowed, moving Re-l to scratch its head.

"Don't worry," she told it. "I'll be fine."

The abruptness of her leaving made something heavy fall in Gabriel's gut and without thinking he stumbled after her. Suddenly the thought of being alone again was unconscionable, and besides, he still needed help to clean the floor.

By the time he reached the door he heard the sound of leaves rustling and flesh hitting timber, and sank against the door-jamb with a mixture of relief and frustration. "Right," he said in a carrying voice with that tone of sarcasm that said he was hiding everything else, "because hurting yourself is going to make it all better."

Yet in a weird way, it was actually comforting. It was also unnerving. He couldn't tell if she was angry at him or on his behalf.

Re-l, still hunched under the tree, was doing her best to pull all the splinters and bark out of her body. Luckily there wasn't much skin or flesh on her knuckles, and so the wounds were easy to clean. When she had finished cleaning them, she tore up her handkerchief and knotted the fabric around her left hand. Her right would need help. Only when she was finished did she speak.

"I can't do this," she said. "I had enough trouble looking after Vincent, and he was immortal. How on earth am I supposed to protect someone who sabotages themselves at every turn? What do I do the day you decide to make something so far beyond your capabilities that you die?"

Her tone, her words, made Gabriel's stomach lurch and a chill prickle across his skin. There was an acknowledgement there, of care and responsibility, something she had always avoided beforehand. Something he had always avoided, except in jest.

Now it seemed like she would actually grieve if something permanent happened to him. The Archangel swallowed hard.

"Why are you even bothering?" he asked a bit roughly. "Dad knows I piss you off often enough." His skin tingled with anticipation of an answer (that she might actually care) and the dread of it (that maybe she didn't, maybe it really was as simple and her seeing him as a helpless thing to be protected). "It's not like I haven't already died before. Apparently--" He laughed bitterly. "Apparently no one stays dead where I come from."

Why was she bothering? After she'd promised herself that she wouldn't. After she'd sworn to herself that she would stay away from everyone, that she wouldn't let herself become invested in this world. There was an answer, but Re-l couldn't admit it to herself.

"You're useful," she said. "I may well need your help to get home. I have no intention of throwing away a valuable asset. Or letting you throw yourself away, for that matter."

Re-l stood up, flexing her bandaged hand. The other one remained loose at her side, waiting to be tied up. They were superficial injuries, hardly worth the effort of worry. Her ribs, taped up beneath her shirt, were considerably more painful.

She walked over to Gabriel holding out her right hand, with the handkerchief trailing around it.

"If you think you can manage, I could use a knot." The kitten trotted after her and tangled itself around her legs. She watched it with mild amusement. "Don't you want to go home?" she said. "You told me you had someone to go back to."

She didn't touch the part about him being dead. She didn't know what to think of that.

The same old excuse. Her previous words indicated there was something more, and if he could see her soul even a little bit Gabriel suspected he might see something to confirm that. And yet he said nothing as he reached out with a foot, feeling for the next step, and made his way down to a level close to Re-l.

The Archangel put out his hands, groping for hers, trying to find the knot. His mouth was a thin line; if he could only see, he could do more for her. "There's a doctor around here somewhere," he said. "The twitchy one."

He smiled tightly. "Sure. Home, on the verge of Armageddon. Back to being stabbed in the chest by my brother. Fun times." For a moment he was quite while he found the edges of her hankie and figured out the logistics of tying a knot without seeing it. Then he said, "I'm just hoping my being here means there's a loophole in the whole 'being dead' thing."

The knot was a little looser than she would have tied it, but that might be only because he didn't want to hurt her. And it was a perfectly serviceable knot for the moment. Re-l would get a proper bandage later.

"I don't need a doctor," she said. "A cup of tea would be nice, though. You look after the kitten and I'll make it." She scooped up the kitten and dumped it in his arms, then stepped past him into the kitchen. She filled the kettle and flicked it on, took out the cups and dropped in two teabags. And all that time his words were churning around in her her head.

She didn't know why she'd assumed he wanted to go home. First Mal, now Gabriel. Was there anyone in this world who needed to leave as badly as she did?

"I envy you your relaxation," she said at last. "Even if I was going back to certain death, I would have to go." She couldn't be Re-l if she didn't.

Just like that he had a sprawling, meowing mass of fur in his arms. The Archangel fumbled and just barely managed not to drop the poor thing, cradling it against his chest. It rumbled, either purring or with discontent; he couldn't tell. Gabriel laughed, quietly and shortly and with something approaching amusement. "Can't believe you actually got yourself a freakin' kitty."

Shaking his head, he turned slowly on the step, using his foot to find the next, and made his careful way up it. Once he'd found the door, he shuffled inside, using his toes to find his way. His mouth opened, then closed again before he finally said resignedly, "So do I. My family's back there. And from what I've heard, things go south really fast not long after I got stabbed."

He shrugged a little. If he had the chance to change it, how could he not?

"It's a good animal," Re-l said. "It kept me warm when I was coming home." A good thing, too, after all the trouble she'd gone to to get it.

She left the tea to brew and went over to Gabriel, guiding him over to the stool and pushing him down on it. She gave the kitten a scratch between the ears and it settled into his lap, purring like a train.

"I'm glad you see things the same way," she said. "It makes it simpler."

She handed him his tea and went to look for a dustpan and brush.

"Pushy woman," Gabriel grumbled, but there was relief in his voice as he submitted to the direction, reaching out to make sure the stool was actually under him. The weight of the kitten sprawled across his lap was strangely comforting; at least stroking a cat wasn't exactly difficult.

"Simpler how?" he asked as he steadied his grip on the mug and brought it close. Somehow, he thought he could probably guess.

Re-l swept up the broken china and dumped it into the bin, then grabbed her cup of tea and ambled over to Gabriel.

"Well, if we have a common goal it makes guessing how you'll respond in various situations that much easier. It clarifies things."

Re-l took a swig of her tea and sighed.

"I know you probably don't want to do this, but we need to talk about what happened to you. There are various things to consider, but let's start with the most basic. How long have you been blind, and do you have any indication that your vision will or won't come back?"

Not what he'd been expecting, and somehow the fact she didn't seem to be thinking of it as 'simpler to part ways' filled him with relief. He'd known that his position was trouble. Known it, just like he'd known it was stupidity to get close to humans again and again. He'd never been able to help it.

Just like he couldn't now.

Gabriel sipped at his tea and then stiffened. It took him a moment to answer. "Since yesterday," he said after a moment. "And I don't know." He looked up toward her voice, even though there was nothing to see, and his mouth twisted with sardonic bitterness. "I was making a reality-pocket. It backlashed. My reality changed."

His expressions worried her. The blindness was eating away at him, just as would have eaten away at her, if she was so unlucky. He needed something to hold onto.

She knelt in front of the stool so that their heads were more or less level. It wasn't the most comfortable position for her, but she'd been in worse. She took his hand - the hand not petting the kitten, and brought it to her face.

"I know you can't see me, but if you keep your hand here you should be able to get an idea of my expressions. We can work out something more permanent later."

She took her hand away and used it to count off a list.

"Now, I wouldn't be so quick to assume you know the reason for your blindness. It strikes me that there are three possibilities. The first, as you seem to be implying, is that your use of power overloaded your body in some way, permanently taking away your power. I consider that the least likely. There's no obvious medical reason for your blindness, though I suppose there could be a severed nerve in your brain. Still, it's a stretch. The second possibility is that what you were trying to do took too much power. Your body compensated by draining power from a source, in this case your eyes. If the second possibility is correct, then your eyes will recover at some point in the future, relative to how much power you've used." She frowned sharply and then continued. "The third possibility is more complicated. None of the superhuman beings I've met here have had access to all their power, where as I am just as strong as I was in Romdeau. I've thought for a while that this suggests a limiter imposed on powers. If what you've said about souls is right, it was probably imposed on us when we were brought here. It would make sense, because if the world is gathering souls from many different universes, it has to equalise the field somehow. In this scenario, there would be a punishment for anyone who tried to step outside the boundary of the limiter. Removing eyesight is one of the most effective punishments, too. I'm not sure yet how they would impose this on you, but the advantage is that they probably wouldn't do it for too long. If I'm right, this blindness should wear off in a fortnight or so."

She stopped speaking and looked at him to make sure he had followed her.

Her taking that hand obliged her to take the mug away from him, and Gabriel let her without objection. He swallowed hard at the feel of her cheek under his fingers, unable to keep them from trembling slightly. It wasn't that he didn't need the touch; it was grounding. It was all he had nowadays. But there was an intimacy to the action which surprised him, both that she was allowing it and that he was aware of it and cared.

There were two parts of the face that were the most expressive--the area around the eyes and the area around the mouth. If he touched the former, he'd only block her own sight, and that was just stupid. Instead the Archangel let his fingers drop to her lips to rest there while she spoke.

"Possibility four," he said quietly. "I messed up the execution and the backlash warped things in a way they shouldn't be. I wasn't overdrawn, Re-l. I know what that feels like. What I was trying to do with reality is like--like playing with playdough. I dropped the ball and got some bits in my eyes. The limits I have now make my skills more difficult, not impossible. And they make it so the things I can do don't last."

That was the part he was clinging to. He didn't know for sure, but if his constructs weren't permanent unless he put extra into them, maybe this wouldn't be either. He hadn't gone for a very big reality-warp, after all.

"I don't believe they have that much power over us," he added firmly. "They're only human themselves. Probably." He had to believe that. Had to believe it, despite the power they'd already shown just in catching them. If they could limit powers, why give it back to them at all? Why not just keep them vulnerable? It didn't make sense.

"They pulled me out of my world and brought me here," Re-l said, "soul only, if you're to be believed. I'm not sure anything is beyond them." She sighed. "But it doesn't matter. Whether we pick your solution or mine, it seems like your blindness isn't permanent. So we simply need some contingency plans until it goes away."

Re-l was uncomfortably aware of Gabriel's fingers by her mouth. She tried not to pay any attention to it, focusing on the problems he was facing and the best solutions to them, but it took effort. The logical, dispassionate part of herself was aware that this was desire, and she held herself back. It didn't matter what she felt. She wasn't going to get involved. Her worry for Gabriel she could explain as pragmatism, but if she let it go any further she would just create regrets, and there was no point in doing that.

"Probably the best solution would be for you to move in with someone who can look after you until your sight comes back. If you think it's going to take longer than a month, we can teach you basic skills to manage your life, but any less and it's not worth it. Aziraphale seems like he would be a good choice. I can't claim to know anything about him, but he's family, and family is meant to help in situations like this, as I understand the term. If you want to stay at home, someone could drop food by once a day, something like that." A thought occurred to her. "You have been to see the doctor, I take it?"

"They could've brought your whole body along for the ride," Gabriel said with a smirk that was only a shadow of his usual fare. "They could've done a lot of things they haven't. Soul-handling is pretty simple, if you know how to do it."

Simple, but sometimes difficult.

For a moment the Archangel was silent. The thing was that he didn't want to move. It would mean relearning a new area, for one, and he already knew the caravan. For another, even though it was Syl's lately it had started to feel an awful lot like his, and he didn't want to leave it. He twitched, both at the mention of Aziraphale and the Doctor. "I'd rather not get my brothers involved," he said in a very controlled tone. "And if I left the caravan I'd only wind up knocking more things over."

Then his face tightened, and he looked away, and his fingers trembled again. "The Doctor's gone. Vanished."

Re-l didn't bother to argue with him on souls. She didn't know enough, and it was ultimately immaterial to her goals.

She was still watching him very closely. He was definitely bitter and angry, but she could understand that. She would have felt the same way. And he didn't show any signs of doing something drastic or irreparable, so it was probably safe to let him stay. Then he mentioned the Doctor, and something in her stomach curled up. She'd liked the old man a lot. He was sensible, practical and he didn't wave his emotions around on a flag. But she couldn't afford sentimentality. Whoever he was, he was no longer in her life.

"I wonder if he found a way home," Re-l said. "It's a bad thing that he's gone, but it's not our main priority. And I didn't mean him. I meant the doctor you mentioned to me earlier." She'd met him herself, on the journey, though they hadn't talked much.

"It should be fine for you to stay here," she said, rubbing the kitten's ears, "and I can see why you want to, but I think not telling your brother about this is a mistake. Learning how to manage your life without sight, however temporarily, means having someone here to teach you, and I'm not the right person to do that." She almost laughed, but stopped herself. "I'm too impatient and too irritable. Aziraphale would do a much better job."

"Doubt it," Gabriel said flatly. "He wouldn't have left without letting someone know." Even if it wasn't Gabriel, given their last conversation. The Time Lord was too smart for that. If he didn't know Re-l had a habit of pretending not to care, he would have felt angry by her matter-of-factness; as it was, his stomach still turned over and his mouth tightened a little.

But he didn't say anything. It wasn't something he particularly wanted to think about. "No," he admitted. "I forgot about him. Sounded like a quack." Not that it was his fault, of course, but it was true. "He admitted he barely knew anything about medicine, let alone metaphysics."

Again the Archangel's mouth tightened, his stomach turned over, and he looked away. He wasn't sure how to explain it to her. The idea of telling Aziraphale frankly filled Gabriel with a nervous anxiety he hadn't felt before in a human body. The worry the other angel was going to spill all over him; Re-l was at least calm and practical about the issue. The idea, not of having to trust Aziraphale, but of not being able to be the older brother Aziraphale had clearly wanted to rely on when he came for help about Pollution.

The idea of relying on Aziraphale even more than Gabriel already was, and having him vanish like the Doctor had.

"I can't."

"I don't think that's true. If I had one chance to leave, and saying goodbye to anyone would cost me that chance, I wouldn't look back. Or maybe it's a one-way trip. Find the path out and you have to take it." She smiled a little, and then stretched it to make sure he could tell. "I can't comment on the doctor, but he was helpful when I hurt my arm fighting the cats. Not this week. On the pilgrimage."

Re-l was beginning to find kneeling uncomfortable, but she ignored the ache in her joints. No point in moving until the conversation was done. Her head tilted forward slightly, though, and her hair brushed against Gabriel's hand.

"I think you're making a mistake," she said, "but I have no interest in forcing you to do anything. But you're going to have to accept support of some kind, at least for the first few days. And if you don't want Aziraphale's help, is there anyone who would suit better?"

That ... actually kind of hurt. Because when Gabriel thought of Aziraphale, and Balthazar, and the others here, and thought of leaving them behind without warning--like he already had with Heaven--something in him rebelled. "I would," he said quietly, and changed the subject.

His hand twitched at the sudden brush against it, but then resettled. "I'll manage," he said, and then summoned a falsely bright smile. "Hey, I managed not to trip over myself and break my neck for two thousand years, what's a few days?"

Re-l found his defensiveness irritating - as though he were better than her because he'd allowed himself to become even more entangled in this stupid world than she was - but she pushed the feeling away. Gabriel was suffering, and that made people say things they didn't mean.

She wondered how long that excuse would last.

"Of course you would pick the option that allowed for the most life-endangering stupidity. But that's fine. If you want to be left alone, you only have to say."

She stood up, and the kitten scrambled after her, pinning its claws into her coat and climbing up her back to coil around her neck.

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