Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gabriel Reyes starts his days at 5am sharp. Coffee, shower, a smoothie, and downstairs to work. If he didn't live above the place he'd be stuck getting up even earlier. But he's thankful for the proximity he's allowed, even if most likely wouldn't agree.

He checks his phone while he heads downstairs, noting off the various messages and notes for the day. Martina’s coming over at 1 to drop off some things for Angel for the weekend. He’s also got a flower delivery due at around 12. Usually, it’s easier to have people come by around lunch; easier to avoid scheduling viewings or families when it’s when he can claim he’s eating.

(Does he eat during his lunches? Does a protein bar count?)

He finishes his smoothie as he lets himself into the storefront. Death’s Door funeral home and crematorium. It’s a silly pun, he’s not the first to use it, but he’s proud of it all the same. It sounds better than “Reyes’ Funerals” in his head, so that’s all that matters.

Today he has someone’s former grandmother waiting to be cremated. Gabriel prefers ‘former’ as an adjective for them because, really, they are no longer someone’s anything. Unless being his job counts. The person is gone, just the shell remains like a cicada’s skin. It makes it easier knowing he’s going to be washing Mrs Riley out of his shirt for the next week.

He stops at the front desk to start a pot of coffee before heading back. He’ll need it today; he didn’t sleep well. He hasn’t been for the last week. Then he heads back and gets her out of cold storage, wheeling her into the prep room.

“Got any secrets for me?” Gabriel asks no one in particular, because Mrs Riley isn’t answering. He checks his paperwork on her and sighs. “Pacemaker,” he grumbles, glancing at the cadaver. “You just couldn’t make my mourning easy, could you?” She, of course, still says nothing. But somehow it helps talking to them–helps make things feel a little more… normal.

He pulls on gloves and grabs a scalpel, cutting through skin and a thin layer of fatty flesh before finding the metal wire. Grabbing it, he wraps it around his finger a few times before yanking and pulling it free. He’s putting it away when he realizes he has a guest, because Mrs Riley sits up.

At first, he’s not all that surprised. Bodies do strange things. But Mrs Riley should be past the point of all that excitement at this stage. So he sighs and turns around slowly, gloved hands raised in a kind of surrender.

“Who is it?”

Mrs Riley’s head turns in a sick noise, flesh and bone grinding, and Gabriel winces, inwardly glad her family opted for cremation so he doesn’t have to worry about fixing anything potentially. Then she starts to speak, a garbled form of Latin that makes his ears hurt. Gabriel squints.

“Can you do, like, English for once?” he asks, bringing the speaking to a halt. “Maybe Spanish? I also speak a little Korean and Arabic, I took three years of French in high school,” he prattles on. “But nooo, always has to be fucking Latin.”

The spirit doesn’t speak, just stares at him seemingly confused. So he finally just sighs and waves them off.

“You came to the right place, friend,” he tells them, pulling off his gloves and dusting his palms together. “But listen, I need your vessel ready by tomorrow morning, so I’d appreciate it if you got out.”

He reaches out and grabs her face, trying to push her head back toward the table. When he does, her body contorts unnaturally and her chest heaves upward. There’s a sick cracking noise and her ribcage unfolds like a flower, the smell of old blood and off meat hitting Gabriel’s nose. He reels back a step, squinting, and the inky black being that crawls out from the chest cavity hisses at him and dissipates into smoke.

Waving it off, Gabriel sighs and looks down at the cadaver. “Really glad you’re not an open casket,” he says.

He’ll have to deal with the demon later, figure out why it’s decided to run off rather than go toe to toe with him. But right now he needs to get these poor desecrated remains into the funeral pyre.

Once he’s started the machine and loaded Mrs Riley, cardboard coffin and all, Gabriel goes to get a cup of coffee. When he notices there’s flecks of old, decaying blood on his shirt he just sighs. That’s not gonna come out easy.

He has a cup of coffee while the first part of the cremation goes on. Sends off a few texts, leaves a few voice messages. He notices a message from his florist, Jack from Morrison’s Flowers–not a pun, but he’ll forgive it considering he’s fairly certain Jack’s parents named the place he runs now. He’s running late, but he’ll by by 1 with the arrangement and to get Gabriel’s order for the next showing. Ah well, he takes his lunch at 1 then.

Gabriel works on paperwork until his timer goes off for shifting Mrs Riley’s cremains. He gets up and stretches, popping his back and flicking the heating plate back on on the coffee pot as he passes. Grabbing his gloves and undoing the latch, he flips the door open and steps back a pace to let the wave of heat pass.

Strangely, it doesn’t smell bad anymore–it also has never smelled good. Gabriel doesn’t think too much about his lack of sensitivity to the smell of burning human flesh as he grabs a metal rake beside the door and reaches in, hooking the back of the cardboard coffin that hasn’t been in the bulk of the heat and pulling it forward. As he does, the upper part of the body crumbles into chunks of ash and bone. And a wave of ash whooshes out the door, hitting him largely in the chest.

Twice today and Mrs Riley has found a way to ruin his flannel.

He’s on his way back to the front, furiously rubbing at his shirt with a damp paper towel, when he hears the door chime. And then, Jack’s voice.

“Sorry I’m late!”

Was it that time already? How time flew when you were getting human dust blown into your face.

“You’re fine,” Gabriel chuckles, stepping out into the lobby and greeting Jack with a little grin. “Caught me on a smoke break.”

He tries to find cutesy things to call his job, considering his last florist ended up running after he made the mistake of being too graphic with things. Best to soften the blow. Not that Jack seems phased, too busy making sure the vase of flowers he’s set on the counter looks nice.

“You’re doing the showing Sunday?” Jack asks, pulling a tablet from his back pocket and handing it to Gabriel. Gabriel nods. “That’s kind of advanced notice compared to usual.”

“Only time the family could all be here,” Gabriel explains, tapping through the options on centerpiece arrangements. He picks the one with white roses, since he knows that’s what the family had requested. “I’m gonna have to pretty up Mr Clerk in the morning to make sure he doesn’t look like he spent a weekend in a freezer.”

He laughs. Surprisingly, Jack chuckles too. Usually people at best offer a small cursory ‘hah’ and shy away from his jokes.

As he’s finishing his order, the bell chimes again and Martina steps in. She greets Jack, having given him orders while covering the front desk before, and plops herself in Gabriel’s desk chair behind the counter while she waits.

“Alright,” Jack hums as Gabriel takes the tablet back. “All set. I’ll have them in the morning.” He pauses, then pushes a little potted plant out from behind the vase on the counter. “This is for you, by the way.”

Gabriel blinks and reaches over, picking up the little potted flower. “For me?”

“For being such an appreciated and loyal customer,” Jack replies with a wink, already headed for the door. “It’s a hyacinth. Likes lots of water and lots of sunshine.”

Gabriel looks at the plant thoughtfully. “Me too,” he tells it. It smells nice, a heady floral scent floating off it as he slides it to the side next to his business cards. He stares at it a moment longer, hearing the bell chime as Jack leaves. Behind him, Martina gets up and sets a bag on the counter before going over to lean next to him. She looks out the front windows thoughtfully.

"He's cute," Martina says of Jack, nudging his shoulder. Gabriel shoots her a scandalized look. "What? He brought you flowers and kept eyeing you up, I have to make sure you notice these things."

He is a bit oblivious. Admittedly. Especially when it came to attention from men. Spending a good part of your life trying to avoid attention from hetero men tended to do that to you, he supposed. Gabriel sighs and picks at the dust under his fingernails.

"My dating pool is not exactly flourishing," he tells her. "So I don't think that little crush will last long. He just does flower arrangements for me."

"You haven't dated since we split," Martina counters, like he knows she will. "Doesn't hurt to go out for coffee now and then."

Maybe get laid, but she doesn't say that part. It's implied, however, because they both know he's been 'uptight' the past few months in particular.

But he doesn't want things to become awkward with Jack; both because he doesn't want to have to order flowers from somewhere else and because he maybe actually just likes the guy's company. Dates aren't the only kind of social interaction he's sorely lacking in.

"If he asked, I wouldn't say no," he tells her finally. "But he hasn't."

This is mostly true. Jack has asked him to go for lunch a few times but Gabriel insists that wasn't a date, per say. It makes it feel better when he knows he had to reject because a new embalmee arrived that afternoon. Or some other uncomfortable nonsense he didn't want to tell the other man about.

"You should ask him to go for drinks tonight," Martina replies flatly. "Never known Gabriel Reyes to avoid making the first move."

She's not wrong, he'd chased her all through high school even when he was awkwardly dealing with second puberty and teachers deadnaming him every other class. He could ask Jack to get a beer after work when he's a much more confident and career minded queer adult, right?

He's not sure what he expects to come of it but Gabriel can't help but remember the implication that he should 'unwind' in that conversation when he and Jack end up in the bar parking lot, Gabriel's back pressed against the side of his car with Jack's hand down his pants.

He's half focused on their surroundings, the other half on trying to get Jack's stupid belt undone, when he notices it. Jack's just managed to wiggle his hand down far enough to rub his cock when Gabriel starts to actually focus on the wisps forming a parking space over so his first 'fuck' comes out like a moan.

The second, however, is a much more harsh "Oh fuck!" as he realizes the thing is clawing its way over the parked car between them, clawed hand outstretched toward Jack's back. Jack freezes, searching Gabriel's face, then glances over his shoulder where he's looking. The thing, of course, vanishes–as if Jack could have seen it anyway. Jack looks back at him, brow knitted in concern.

"Thought I saw someone," Gabriel explains smoothly, pressing a kiss to Jack's throat. "Can we go back to my place instead?"

Jack grins and reluctantly pulls his hand free. He nods. "Sounds good."

They're in Gabriel's bed when he sees it again. He's straddling Jack, cock buried so deep inside him Gabriel swears he can feel it in the back of his throat, and Jack's got one hand white knuckle gripping his hip with the other teasing his dick while he rides. It feels fucking amazing, which is probably why he doesn't notice until the bastard has two clawed hands wrapped around the frame of his bedroom door.

He wants to scream. He can't have a few fucking hours to himself anymore to just get railed. He's so close he can feel his muscles clenching but he knows it'll cause problems before he can get off.

"I–" Gabriel reaches down and taps Jack's side, squeezing his thighs around him, and tries to find his voice. Failing, he just taps again. Unfortunately (or perhaps not, he's not sure at this point), Jack misunderstands this as a request to change positions and flips them, Gabriel's back hitting the mattress and Jack's cock somehow sinking deeper into him.

He throws his head back and moans, seeing that the spirit isn't moving through the haze of stars. Just watching them, the fucking pervert.

Gabriel decides he might as well take advantage of that and focuses back on how Jack is pounding into him, thumb rubbing over his dick while he does. Admittedly the fact Jack so easily flipped him on his back did something unhinged to him, considering Martina was simply too small to manhandle him even at her most determined. The way Jack has one hand forcing his thighs further apart so he can fuck deeper and deeper into him, pinning him to the bed, is making his brain go somewhere warm and fuzzy and submissive.

He steals a glance at the thing in the doorway and it's still just there, just watching. There's something pleasantly exhibitionist about this, even with the danger. Let it watch, it'll never come as hard as Gabriel's about to again. It's dead.

"I'm–fuck!" is all Gabriel can get out before he comes, pussy squeezing the life out of Jack's cock. Something about the thought that he got to come and the spirit didn't had pushed him over the edge and he knows it's a little fucked up but he doesn't care. Not with Jack's hips bucking a few moments later as he whines against his neck with his own finish.

He pulls out and ties the condom off, tossing it aside before flopping back into the pillows. He looks at Gabriel and pats his chest. "Mere," he rumbles, and Gabriel can't resist.

When he sits up, he steals a glance over at the doorway. The thing is gone now, maybe because Jack is looking that way or maybe because Gabriel did the thing it can't anymore. Either way, he shrugs and flops onto Jack's sweaty chest.

"That good for you?" Jack asks, playing with his hair.

Gabriel snorts out a laugh. "If you aren't willing to do that again I may cry."

Jack just grins at him. "Any time. Should be ready for round 2 in an hour if you're really eager." And Gabriel is pretty sure he's the one who died, because he's found either heaven or an incubus specifically designed to make him orgasm.

He doesn't really care which.

True to his offer, Jack's ready again in an hour. The spirit doesn't return so Gabriel gets to ride Jack to completion and about halfway through Jack holds his hands out for Gabriel to grip for support. They're just friends with benefits at this point, Gabriel tries to remind himself, when his heart flutters over how Jack's fingers lace with his and squeeze gently.

He comes two more times before they call it a night, once riding Jack's cock and the other riding his face when Jack, directly after he's come bucking into Gabriel's fist, grabs his thigh and yanks him up to his mouth. And once again the manhandling does something to Gabriel's brain so he gladly lets Jack suck his cock till he's coming on his face.

Gabriel tells himself he told Jack to stay after they cleaned up because it was late. But it's only part of it. The other parts are the fact the spirit actually paid attention to him in the parking lot and the fact that, honestly, having a warm body in bed with him after getting fucked silly feels like heaven. Jack doesn't seem to have any complaints and falls asleep curled up with him, leg tossed over Gabriel's hip.

Jack's still in bed with him in the morning, still asleep and snoring pussy breath on his face. Gabriel tries to wriggle away so he can go start coffee for his guest and Jack's arms squeeze around him tighter. Maybe he's not the only one who's been lonely?

A little squirming later and he finds himself even more trapped, legs tangled with Jack's. Jack squeezes closer to him and his thigh presses between his legs and it takes a mix of willpower and the realization that he's a little sore from last night to stop him from grinding on the warm, meaty thigh.

He's not sure if he's just horny after a good fuck or if it's something about Jack. He feels comfortable with him, mostly. So it feels nice getting off with him.

Trying to focus on coffee and breakfast, he gently cups Jack's face to try and get his attention. "Hey, wake up, sunshine."

Jack rumbles happily and nuzzles into his palm a little. "Mornin." Gabriel's heart squeezes at the intimacy of it all.

"Lemme go," he tells him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I'm gonna make you coffee and French toast."

Jack groans in protest but eventually does release him. He flops over, burying his face in Gabriel's pillow, and Gabriel silently hopes he stays there instead of taking in the unique chaos of his apartment while he makes breakfast.

Thankfully, Gabriel just hears the water cut on while he's getting ingredients out. By the time he's done with food Jack's freshly showered and strolling into the kitchen.

"Stole some of your soap and mouthwash," Jack informs him. "Smells good in here."

Gabriel hands him a plate and a mug of coffee with a grin. "Good, because I pride myself in my breakfast making skills."

It's only when Jack sits down, still shirtless and pink from the shower, that Gabriel notices them. Six thin red slashes on his back, three on either side. He has to stop himself from gasping as he touches Jack's back.

"You really got me," Jack notes with a chuckle as Gabriel inspects the wounds. "Didn't even feel 'em last night, though."

Because they weren't from when Gabriel was gripping Jack's back, dull fingernails pressing white half moons into his skin. But Gabriel doesn't want to spook him, so he just forces a weak laugh.

"Sorry," he murmurs, gently rubbing at the marks.

"Be more careful next time," Jack tells him jokingly, stuffing a bite in his mouth. "I'm delicate."

'Next time' makes Gabriel's toes curl in his slippers, but he doesn't let himself focus on that. Not if the spirit touched Jack. Perhaps there shouldn't be one. No matter how bad he wants there to be.

Jack asks him out again that night and, since it's Friday, Gabriel agrees. They end up back at his place because, admittedly, Gabriel can't keep his hands to himself the whole time they're chatting over drinks. It still feels simple, somehow, even though Gabriel's not sure what to call their relationship at this point. Hell, he's not even sure whether to call Jack 'baby girl' or 'daddy' in bed half the time. But he likes this… whatever it is.

He also likes the sex. Jack eats him out like it's his life's passion and rails him with such purpose. He also likes to switch, which admittedly was something Gabriel was initially afraid to breach the subject of with a cis dude. Not that he had anything to worry about; Jack was more than happy that night getting pounded into the mattress by Gabriel before dragging him up to his face and eating his pussy while he stroked his strap.

It's after an utterly toe curling orgasm from this that Jack, actually, poses the question that's been nagging Gabriel.

"Are we, uh, dating?"

Gabriel hesitates. He doesn't know what to answer. Even if Jack knows the usual things that put people off dating him at first he's still in the dark about so much. Stuff Martina doesn't even know. And stuff she does, but Gabriel didn't want to tell his fuck buddy since it felt too private.

Jack doesn't know what he's signing up for.

"I… don't know," Gabriel says finally.

"You wanna get dinner tomorrow?" Jack asks, rubbing at his chest. His thumb keeps tracing the top surgery scars there and it makes Gabriel feel all cozy knowing he doesn't somehow avoid them. "Actually go on a date and decide?"

Gabriel wants to, of course, but there's another issue. "Can't," he says, apologetic. "My kid's with me for the weekend."

This, of course, is one of the things that Jack hadn't known. Gabriel didn't feel the need to inform his florist and now sometimes fuck buddy that he was a father. If all they did was business and fuck sometimes he didn't intend for his kid to meet Jack anyway. But surprisingly, Jack perks up a little.

"Your kid?" he asks. "Tell me about him?"

And, realizing that maybe Jack really wants to be more than his booty call, does tell him about his kid. Angel; his goofy 5 year old who loves spiders and can't wink or whistle. Gabriel tells him how he carried Angel because Martina couldn't carry a baby, how he got kicked in the ribs by the little shit and how he felt like a science class frog during his c section. When he mentions this, Jack seems to connect a few dots and fondly runs his hand over the scar lower on Gabriel's belly.

"Can I meet him?" Jack asks when he's done. "Y'know… eventually?"

Gabriel hums in consideration, then nods. "Only if you don't tell him how we got so close." He jokes, laughing when Jack looks offended at the mere idea he would speak of such things to a 5 year old.

Gabriel asks him to stay again, because of course he does. Jack makes him feel safe. Gabriel's not sure why; he's the one with supernatural abilities, not Jack. But something about having the other man wrapped around him in bed at night helped ease his anxiety. Calm the nightmares.

Not that they don't still come. That night he wakes up screaming and clawing at his chest; Jack doesn't ask questions, just helps him calm down and gently rubs at the dull scratches Gabriel left on his chest and stomach after until they both fall asleep again. He doesn't even ask if he should go.

Gabriel's grateful for that. Both the sweet gesture of warm hands on his stinging skin and the fact Jack didn't pry at him for what he dreamed about. He couldn't explain that he was dreaming about a demon climbing out of his torso through his folded back ribs, it required too much further explaining about things like demons, possession, and anatomy.

That morning he wakes up tucked under Jack's chin, wrapped in his arms, and his heart hurts. He can't keep going like this. The demons notice Jack. They've touched him. He's in danger if he stays around Gabriel.

But he's so warm and makes him laugh and he's offensively pretty… and he already looks at Gabriel like he hung the stars. The temptation to keep going like this forever is there. But he just can't. He doesn't want someone so wonderful getting hurt because of him.

So that morning while Jack makes him eggs and bacon before he leaves, singing along to music in his kitchen in nothing but an apron, Gabriel decides this is the last time. So he better be sure to enjoy it.

Chapter Text

That afternoon, after Jack leaves, Martina brings Angel over. When they were together, he and Martina rented the house and he used the upstairs apartment for an office and work storage. Now his old office is the picture of the perfect 5 year old’s room and the rest of the place is still a relatively chaotic mess of boxes. So he’s in the middle of trying to make his living room look more like a living room when they come in.

“Dad!”

Angel collides with his legs and Gabriel fumbles to hold onto the box he’s carrying to the hall closet, laughing. Once he’s set it down on an end table he drops down to pull the boy into a hug.

“My baby boy,” he hums, ruffling at Angel’s curls.

The kid is the best thing he’s ever made. A smile so big he scrunches his eyes shut and absolutely brimming with love and kindness.

Gabriel glances up at Martina while she sets Angel’s things down. “He’s got a long weekend so you get the honor of his presence until Tuesday morning,” she teases. “If you can promise me you’ll get him to school on time.”

He rolls his eyes at her playfully. “I always do.”

“Good,” Martina chirps, pleased, and reaches down to ruffle Angel’s hair. “I’ll see you Tuesday after school, baby.”

“Bye momma!” Angel wriggles out of Gabriel’s embrace to go hug her leg before Martina leaves, then grabs his things while Gabriel finishes putting his box where it was headed. When they meet back in the living room, Gabriel flashes him a grin and points to the entertainment center.

“Go pick,” he tells him and Angel climbs over the back of the couch on his b-line for the game system. He’s already got the Switch going when Gabriel plops down on the couch next to him. “You gonna play with me or am I just watching?” he asks. Angel thrusts a controller into his hand and Gabriel chuckles.

Admittedly, Gabriel plays a lot of things himself in the rare moments he has time. Using farming sims for therapy while he waits for a body to flush isn’t one of his weirdest habits. But he’ll be the first to say he buys most of the games with Angel in mind. It’s more fun zapping aliens with the kid and he’s not afraid to say it.

When they pause for a snack break, Gabriel checks his phone and finds a text from Martina. ‘Forgot to ask, how’d the date go?’

Gabriel has been doing his best not to think about it. About Jack and how he kissed him when he left that morning. How badly Gabriel wants to text him but knows he should draw back some. How worried he is about what that spirit could be doing, since it’s not here at the moment.

Selfishly, though, Gabriel is glad for another reason. He worries about Angel; what if the kid has the same ‘gift’ he does? What kind of danger could he be in without parents like his grandparents to watch over him. Gabriel only sees him on weekends to keep him safe but if he’s got the same abilities that would have to change. And he doesn’t know how that would go over with Martina.

He shakes his head to clear the worries and texts her back. ‘I had fun.’

‘Should try that more often.’

Gabriel snorts and puts his phone away. If only it were so easy.

Angel drapes himself dramatically over his lap when he decides it’s been too long and Gabriel laughs. “Dad, I’m hungry!”

“Hi hun–”

“No! Don’t!” Angel blurts, shoving his hands at his father’s stomach. Gabriel laughs.

“What do you want to eat, then?” he asks, toying with Angel’s curls while the boy flicks through menus on the game. Angel is… easily distracted. Gabriel has a hunch he’s got the same ADHD brain that he’s dealt with since he was small but at this point it hasn’t gotten in the way of schooling yet, so he’s glad. “I’m going to make tacos for dinner.”

Angel takes this into consideration for a moment while he weighs his options. Finally, he gestures with the controller and says, “Musubi!”

Gabriel sucks his teeth in thought. “I do have some Spam,” he offers. “You sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes!”

Gabriel grins and ruffles his hair up. “Alright, come help me with them.”

Angel rolls off his lap and the couch and onto all fours before scurrying across the living room floor like some sort of horror movie creature. Gabriel just chuckles and follows him to the kitchen, where he finally stands on two feet and goes digging through the drawers for the musubi molds.

While Gabriel washes the rice he considers that old worry again; the one that Angel will have the same strange affliction he does. He was around Angel's age when it first manifested. At that age you're not scared of them–even the demons. They're just something you don't yet understand and Gabriel didn't yet understand a lot of things at 5. His father noticed and knelt down next to him, speaking in a quiet voice while he asked "What do you see?" and "What are they saying?"

Later, Gabriel found out the first being he'd seen, an old woman with strangely long fingers, had been a human spirit–one called by his mother's work and easily sent on her way by his father's gentle coaxing. His father called them Reapers. "Because," he said with a wry grin. "They are sown spirits that we reap."

Gabriel sighs and clicks the rice cooker on while Angel climbs onto a kitchen stool. He doesn't want this world for his son. He hopes perhaps Martina's family genes are dominant, even knowing the boy looks a lot like he did as a child; dark skin and hair and big brown eyes and all knees and elbows. He wants it anyway; wants to see the boy live a normal life and never have to know what freakish things can make the dead move.

Luckily, Angel hasn't shown signs yet. He barely seems to notice living people some days. He hasn't even had imaginary friends. Which Martina had thought odd but Gabriel was just glad he hadn’t needed to check and see which of them were dead people…

Angel climbs up onto the stool to sit next to Gabriel while he chops Spam, grabbing the pieces when Gabriel pushes them to the side of the chopping board and dropping them into a square dish. “You remember how much to add for the marinade?” Gabriel asks and Angel nods enthusiastically before reaching up into the cabinet next to them and grabbing soy sauce, oyster sauce, and sugar. He hops down from the stool to go digging around in a drawer for the measuring utensils he needs and Gabriel drops a few pieces of Spam into the container for him while he’s busy.

Angel’s so smart. Eager to help. Wide eyed and unafraid of the world around him. Gabriel doesn’t want any of that marred by something that scares him and exposes him to the mortality of everyone around him. It doesn’t seem fair.

Gabriel always knew he wanted to be a parent. It just was something he craved; that kind of calling in life few people are certain of so easily. So even if he and Martina were better as friends he was glad they'd started a family, brought Angel into the world.

He makes sure Angel pours the right amounts of marinade into the container with the Spam before stirring them around a little and lifting the kid off the stool and into his arms. He's so big now, Gabriel remembers when he didn't weigh a thing…

"Now what do we do?" he asks and Angel buries his face against his shoulder happily.

"We wait!"

"You're good at this," Gabriel chuckles, setting the egg timer on the counter. It's shaped like a skull; Martina thought it was funny. Admittedly, Gabriel does too.

They go back to games for a few more rounds before the timer dings. Gabriel goes to the kitchen and starts heating a pan up while Angel carefully turns off and opens the rice cooker to let the rice cool a little. By the time this task is done the Spam is sizzling in the pan.

They make the musubi and have lunch, play more games and watch a few movies until dinner. Gabriel has seen enough episodes of kids' shows he can recite the scripts by heart–voices and all–but he doesn't mind eating tacos and checking his email to the sound of it.

He puts Angel to bed not long after. Reads him a story and kisses his forehead and goes to his own room to settle down. All is right and peaceful and calm.

Around 3am, that changes.

Gabriel startles awake to the creaking of floorboards. Looking up, a tiny form is framed by his open doorway in the dim hall light.

"Dad?"

Gabriel shifts and rubs the sleep from his eyes. "Hey kiddo, what's wrong?"

Angel, usually so eager, hesitates to answer. "I don't… know."

This wakes Gabriel a bit more. He sits up and holds his arms out to Angel. The boy shuffles into the dark room and leans into his embrace. His face wets Gabriel's shirt.

"You been crying?" he asks. "Had a bad dream?"

"I dunno," Angel says again, voice muffled.

Oddly, he doesn't sound like he's been crying. Gabriel knows it too well; that stuffy, hoarse sound to his voice isn't there. He pulls the boy up into his lap and prompts himself back on his pillows.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asks. Angel shakes his head. "Wanna sleep in here tonight?" A nod. Gabriel smiles softly. "Alright. C'mere bug." And he wraps his son in a hug, flopping over onto his side dramatically and finally earning a little laugh for his efforts.

In the morning, Angel is back to his normal self. Gabriel makes him breakfast before they go down stairs to prep for the day. Gabriel keeps him away from the decedents of course, but Angel is otherwise unfazed by the goings on in a funeral home. He sets to work dusting with a rag while Gabriel makes sure the display is how the family wanted it.

His flowers are on time. Jack sends one of his employees and a short text about not feeling well. Gabriel tries not to linger too much on the feeling in the pit of his stomach about this. He misses him already, even if he won't admit it. Even if he won't indulge in it.

He’s lost in thought about this when Angel walks up and prods him in the side gently.

“Dad… it’s happening again.”

He sounds calm, so Gabriel’s startled when he turns to find his son’s face streaked with tears. Alarmed, he kneels down to gently take Angel’s face in his hands.

“What–?”

Then, he pauses. The tears touch his thumbs and they’re… thick. Slippery and viscus. Not like tears should be at all. He frowns and pulls one hand back, bringing his thumb to his nose.

“Oil?”

Angel, unafraid and young, just seems confused by all this. He tilts his head to one side in Gabriel’s hand and blinks away more of the thick tears.

“What’s happening, dad?”

Gabriel doesn’t know. But he doesn’t want to say he doesn’t know. He’s Angel’s dad, he’s supposed to know things. Most things. Everything, in Angel’s eyes.

“That’s… real weird, bud,” he says finally, trying to keep his tone even. Calm. He gently cups Angel’s face between both his hands again and inspects his eyes. “You get something in your eyes?”

Angel shakes his head as best he can in his grip. “Nu-uh,” he says. “It just happened. Like last night.”

Suddenly, Gabriel feels a twinge of rage. Oh no, fuck no. Some supernatural shithead is not going to mess with his kid. He’ll tolerate a lot of things, including them ruining his relationships, but they will not touch Angel.

He pulls his son into a quick, tight hug. Buries his nose in Angel’s curls and tries to calm himself. This doesn’t mean Angel has the gift. It doesn’t.

It can’t.

He knows it won’t be a pleasant conversation but all the same, he has to have it. So when Martina calls him Tuesday morning to check in that Angel went to school on time (he did) and confirm she’s still picking him up (she is), he hesitates before he can even get started.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking.”

Martina chuckles that warm little chuckle of hers. “That’s dangerous with you,” she teases.

Gabriel manages a chuckle too. “Ah, yeah,” he says. “Tee… I wanna have Angel over more.” She’s quiet for a tick so he keeps going. “I got his room set up and I’m basically unpacked and I’d like to start taking him for longer than just weekends. Weeks, maybe? Or a month.”

“Gabriel,” she says, slower than her usual banter. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. We agreed it would be better if he stayed with one of us more than the other. For stability.”

“Then can he stay with me more?”

Gabriel knows she doesn’t like that idea. Knows she’d never say it, never argue, but she hates it. Hates to imagine not having her baby boy with her for more than just a weekend. But he’s worried. Worried that the tears are a sign of something more.

He can hear her expression somehow, jaw tight and lips set in a frown. “You work a lot,” she says. “You’re always on call. And…”

She trails off on the last note and he gets annoyed for a second. “I work in a funeral home, not a horror movie,” he says sharply.

“It’s still no place for a child,” Martina shoots back.

“You know I never expose him to anything scary or inappropriate,” Gabriel replies. He’s annoyed now and he knows she can tell. “Look, I just want to discuss seeing my son more. I don’t see why that’s so bad.”

Martina heaves a little sigh. “Sorry, sorry,” she says, placating. “We can… we can talk about it after I get off work.”

That, at least, Gabriel will settle for. “Alright,” he breathes. “Have a good day at work.”

“You too,” Martina replies.

Gabriel shorts. “I’m sure it’ll be to die for,” he says.

Martina groans before hanging up the phone.

He doesn't want to be annoyed with her. He understands Martina and her desire to keep Angel close. As well as her own worries about him being exposed to death too soon in this manner. But he has to breach the topic now, because he's afraid if he waits it'll be too late.

Sighing, he slumps back in his office chair. Having Angel around more would especially mean he can't be up to anything silly like dating, so maybe it's good he had to push Jack away. He hasn't heard from him for a few days, maybe he's finally taken the hint.

Today is a slower day. He has Mrs Riley's family picking up her remains and needs to finish prep. They're getting their own urn so he goes about setting up the bag and temporary urn for the transport. It's just a simple plastic box, secure and able to snap closed at the top. Once that's ready, he goes to get Mrs Riley.

With the ashes cooled and gently swept into a bin, he transports them over to the little device he uses to break up larger pieces of bone. Most people don't like cremains to actually visibly be, well, human remains. So it's common practice to break them up in what Gabriel essentially thinks isn't that different from a coffee grinder. He loads them in, closes it, and clicks on the machine. It buzzes and grinds softly as he heads back up to his desk.

By the time it's done he's got all the paperwork and other prep finished up so he returns to bag up the ashes before gently dropping them into the temporary urn.

"There you go," he tells her, sighing lightly. "Safe and sound. No more demons to worry about in there."

Mrs Riley, of course, cannot answer as she has no mouth. And isn't alive. But he likes to think she appreciates her body being free of demon infestation all the same.

Other than the goings on with Angel he's almost starting to think that demon fucked off instead of bothering him. It's a pleasant surprise; usually he's got far more trouble on his hands when one shows up to start problems for him. But he's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth so he just continues with his day.

After work, Martina calls him again. This conversation goes better, calmer now that she's had time to think and gather herself. He knows she's an anxious soul, he won't hold it against her.

"I guess we could try doing every other week," she offers with a little sigh. "Angel was excited when I mentioned it. And I… I do want him to spend more time with you, Gabriel. I just…"

"You don't like being away from him for long, I know," Gabriel finishes for her patiently. "Look, Martina, I promise he's going to be perfectly safe from trauma and weird funeral home shit with me. And I think it'll do him some good to be around more; get to know the family business."

He says the last bit as a joke and she laughs. But he means it in a way she can't even fully understand. Because if Angel is a Reaper he's got a lot to teach him. A lot of things his own parents taught him. And he can only hope he does as good a job as they did.

Martina says her goodbyes and they agree that next week, Angel will come over Sunday and stay till the next Saturday night before returning to Martina for a week. It's a testing phase still but Gabriel can't imagine it being trouble for Angel, just maybe Martina. She's sensitive, and he understands how she just wants her baby with her. She loved him from the second Gabriel gently handed him to her after the C-section. She was a good mom, even if she'd been afraid she wouldn't be considering she hadn't been able to carry him herself.

But Gabriel is a good dad too. And he's going to be sure his kid is taken care of. And there's one very important step for the potential process he's facing.

He calls his parents.

"Hey baby!" His mother answers and Gabriel's heart melts at her voice. It's been too long since they spoke, let alone visited.

"Hey momma," he says, then jumps right to the matter at hand. "Can you and papa come visit? I think… I think Angel may be manifesting some sensitivity."

The line is very quiet for a moment. He can feel his mother's conflict of concern and excitement. Finally, she gives a soft little exhale.

"We can be there whenever."

Gabriel gives her the date, lines it up with Angel's stay, and they say their goodbyes and I love yous not long after. He's still nervous, but having help will take a lot of weight off his shoulders. His parents know way more about this than even he does, even what they taught him.

He just has to believe that much will be enough to keep his son safe.

He gets a call the next day at 6am sharp. Someone who knows his schedule, so he answers without looking because it has to be important.

“Hello?” he slurs, voice still scratchy from sleep even as he nurses his first cup of coffee.

“Gabriel.” Jack.

“What is–” He can’t even finish his question before Jack is speaking again.

“I need your help. Those scratches won’t go away.”

Fuck.

Chapter Text

At first, Jack doesn’t think much of it. He just assumes Gabriel got a little too rough and left him with some nice memories for a few days.

But, gradually, the scratches become more irritating.

The day after, standing in his own shower with hot water running down his back, they start to sting. Like they’re on fire or infected or something. It’s weird; Gabriel had nice and tidy nails from what he saw. It seems silly to consider he’d gotten the equivalent of cat scratch from the man.

So he just makes sure to wash them thoroughly and goes about his day.

It’s around 3 that afternoon when one of his employees at the flower shop points out an issue.

“Jack,” Lena says, leaning on the counter while he’s tending a few of the ferns by the door. “You’re bleeding.”

Jack blinks. “I am?” he asks, glancing at her. “Where?”

“The back of your shirt,” she says. “It’s… pretty bad."

It is. When he goes to the bathroom and pulls his shirt off there are six lines of blood soaked into the fabric from his shoulders down to nearly his waist. Wincing, he goes about wiping them down as best he can with a damp paper towel and changes into another shirt. By the end of the day, this one is bloody too.

“Should see a doctor,” Lena tells him before she leaves for the day. “You shouldn’t be bleeding so much from some old wounds.”

He didn’t tell her how he got them, just when. But she’s right either way. Something doesn’t feel right about all this.

The next morning he wakes up early with the strangest sensation in his shoulders. It’s like something crawling under his skin, red hot pain sparking everywhere it goes. When he sits up in bed, his sheets are soaked in blood.

This is when he, admittedly, panics and calls Gabriel.

“What do you mean they won’t go away?” Gabriel asks over the phone.

Jack fumbles for what to say, especially with that lightly raspy voice is on the other end of the line. Trying to compose himself and glancing at the blood on his bedsheets again, he sighs.

“They’ve been bleeding almost non-stop. Could something have, uh, gotten in them?”

Gabriel’s quiet for a really long time. To the point Jack pulls the phone away from his ear and checks to be sure the call hasn’t dropped. When he presses it back to listen, he hears the other man sigh faintly.

“I… I can come over tomorrow,” he offers. “And see about it. For now just, uh, keep them clean. Take it easy.”

“Should I go to a doctor?” Jack asks.

“No!” Gabriel’s answer is so abrupt it startles him a little. “No, uh,” he fumbles a little before explaining. “I doubt it’s that serious. I think I might know what did it, I just need to get a look at it. Try putting some antiseptic on them.”

Jack frowns but doesn’t question it. “Uh, alright,” he says. “Are you… okay?”

Gabriel hasn't answered any of his messages since the other night. He knew he’d gotten them, and read them. Jack’s not sure what he did wrong.

“Yeah, peachy,” Gabriel replies shortly. “I gotta go. See you tomorrow.”

Jack doesn’t get out his return “See you” before he hears a click on the other end. Hmm. Well, that’s a great excuse to drink.

That night drinking ends up being the last thing on his mind.

Jack’s just finished dinner, parked on his couch as he usually spends his evenings, when the feeling really starts. At first it’s just a small itch–like that feeling when a wound starts to scab over and heal. But then it starts to grow in intensity. His shoulder blades feel like something is crawling on them–or inside them, under his skin.

He goes to the bathroom and rips his shirt over his head, taking the bandaging off his back before turning to try and awkwardly inspect the wounds in the mirror. What he sees makes him feel lightheaded; there’s some kind of movement under his skin, the flesh on his back and shoulders around the still red cuts rippling.

“What the fuck?!” Jack yelps and slaps at the moving parts on his back. Nothing seems to do anything–if nothing else, it hurts even more disturbing the strange area. Frantic, he scratches at the wounds and they reopen with a vengeance, blood pouring down his back. “Fuck, fuck, shit…”

He hasn’t scratched long before he realizes something is seriously wrong. Pulling his hands away, strips of his skin are hanging from his nails. This, finally, pushes Jack over the edge and he keels over and vomits in his sink, unable to reach the toilet in his haste. Before his stomach is even fully emptied he finds his back itching again, the crawling sensation getting more intense.

Fighting back the urge to scratch again, he turns to awkwardly try to see the damage in the mirror. It’s not good. Besides the huge hunks of skin missing from his back he can now see something like… claws or tendrils reaching out from his scratches. He feels lightheaded again.

Finally, desperate, he grabs his phone off his nightstand and returns to the bathroom. Sitting on the floor, back against his shower door to keep from ruining his walls, he navigates to Gabriel's number while leaving bloody smudges all over the screen. Gabriel picks up after 2 rings.

"Jack?"

"I think I'm dying," Jack says, and before he can even finish the thought, Gabriel responds.

"I'll be right there."

Jack slumps a little, rubbing the back of his hand against his eye. He's not sure if Gabriel will even be able to get in but he's so… tired.

When he wakes up, his senses fill with warmth and the smell of sandalwood.

"Gabe…"

Gabriel's hands are on his face, seated in his lap, when Jack comes to. He jolts but Gabriel shushes him by pressing their lips together and Jack makes a small confused noise in the back of his throat.

"Just a bad dream," Gabriel whispers when he pulls back for air, still impossibly close. Jack's hands grip numbly at his sides, wanting to draw him closer.

"How'd I get here?" Jack asks, eyes cutting to see he's in his bed again.

Gabriel shushes him again, almost purring out the sound, and rocks his hips against Jack's lap. Even through Gabriel's boxers and his own sweatpants Jack can feel he's wet. Oh. Oh! His dick twitches with interest at the friction.

Suddenly he's not worried about how real that bad dream felt, instead focused on getting his fingers inside Gabriel. They slide in so easy and Gabriel arches his back to give Jack a better angle, whispering a desperate little "oh fuck" as Jack thrusts into him a few times before pulling them out and hurriedly pulling their clothing out of the way.

Sex with Gabriel is, he's not ashamed to admit, the best sex he's had in his life. Gabriel moves his hips in ways Jack can't cope with and moans so loud and pretty it makes his head swim. He likes Gabriel as a person, of course he does, but after fucking him a few times he can safely say it's a huge perk to have as a part of their… whatever they have.

Gabriel slides down his cock, stroking his own dick while he does, and Jack leans back against the headboard in awe, just watching. Curling his toes while Gabriel rides him and moans his name like a prayer. "Jack, oh fuck, Jack, Jack–"

"Jack!"

Gabriel's voice jolts him awake and he's back in the bloody bathroom again, back on fire and vision hazy from blood loss. If the mere realization that this was reality wasn't enough to kill his wet dream boner, the look of sheer panic on Gabriel's face as he tries to shake him awake takes care of it fully.

"My guardian angel," Jack mumbles, words slurring, and Gabriel looks equal parts relieved and still very concerned.

"What happened?" he asks, leaning forward to gently pull Jack upright and off the floor where he's slumped over onto his bath mat.

Jack blinks at him and weakly grips Gabriel's shirt to steady himself, even knowing he's getting blood all over him. "Sorry," he mutters, in reference to this, but goes on before Gabriel can reply with further confusion. "There's… something under my skin."

The crawling starts again, or perhaps he just notices it again, and Jack feels panic rise in his chest. It must be clear on his face because Gabriel cradles it in his hands and tries to meet his eyes.

"There's nothing under your skin," he whispers, pressing forward and touching his forehead to Jack's. "There's nothing there. Shh." He stays like this, shifting to sit on Jack's legs, and Jack slowly finds himself easing his panicked breathing down to match the other man's.

But it still feels like there's something in his back.

"What's happening to me?" he manages to grit out, jaw tight even as he evens out his panic.

Gabriel tilts his head up and presses a kiss to his forehead. Jack feels a little more tension drain away.

"I can fix this," Gabriel whispers. "I promise. Just trust me."

Gabriel gets him into the tub and starts filling it, adding something that looks and smells like bath salt but feels like heaven on his wounds before going rummaging under the sink. Jack just stares at the water, watching it slowly turn pink as it makes contact with his bloodied back.

"Where do you keep your baking soda?" Gabriel asks, popping his head up from behind the open cabinet door.

Jack blinks at him. "Fridge?"

"The only baking soda you own is a fridge deodorizer?" Gabriel asks, a note of concern in his voice.

Jack shrugs. Then regrets it, back and shoulders stinging.

Gabriel just sighs and gets to his feet. "Probably going to have to get a new bath mat," he tells Jack, moving over to clean the blood and skin hunks off the floor next to the shower. Jack watches him as he returns to the sink and pulls a face. "What–"

"Toilet was too far," Jack tells him, matter-o-factly, and watches Gabriel make a face somewhere between wincing and laughter before he starts to clean that up as well.

By the time Gabriel is done cleaning, Jack's back is starting to feel better. Still, Gabriel won't let him leave and instead sits on the closed toilet lid while Jack lays staring at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel says finally. Jack glances over at him and he clears his throat before adding, "This is my fault."

"You gave me a parasite?" Jack asks, joking.

And Gabriel actually shrugs. "Sort of," he says. "I… look, it's better if I don't explain. It should go away after you finish this bath. I'm sorry, really. This shouldn't have happened."

Jack reaches over the side of the tub and grabs at the air. Confused, Gabriel blinks at him before seemingly understanding and reaching over to take his hand.

"Don't have to hide anything from me," Jack tells him quietly. He feels Gabriel tighten the grip on his hand a little. "But you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to either."

Gabriel takes in a shaky breath. "I'll… think about it," he says.

And that's enough for now. The night has been too stressful already to have Jack risk adding anything to it.

"Can I get out yet?" he asks instead, shifting a little in the tub. "It's getting cold and my ass is falling asleep."

Gabriel gives a weak laugh and nods, helping Jack pull himself up out of the water with their still linked hands. "Alright," he sighs as Jack stands and takes a towel from the rack. "That's probably good enough. Get dried off and I'll patch you up."

They sit on Jack's bed while Gabriel bandages up his back. It's quiet for a long moment, then Jack ops to break the silence.

"I had hoped when I had you over to my place it'd be more fun," he remarks.

Gabriel gives a little chuckle. "Yeah? What'd you have planned?"

"Nice dinner, maybe a movie," Jack remarks, gesturing vaguely in front of him. "Maybe see if you'd let me eat you out for dessert."

"That does sound nicer than cleaning your puke out of the sink," Gabriel teases.

"I'm full of good ideas."

Gabriel finishes his first aid and presses his hands gently against Jack's back. After a little pause he leans forward and Jack feels his head rest against the base of his neck.

"Could I… convince you to stay tonight?" Jack asks quietly.

He feels Gabriel tense up a little but his position doesn't change. He sighs.

"I shouldn't…"

"It's late," Jack says gently. "No dinner or movies and chill required. But you shouldn't be driving tired. I know how early you get up."

Gabriel laughs and nuzzles against his shoulder. "Probably for the best you don't fuck around while missing half your blood." Then he heaves a tired sigh. "And… alright. I can sleep on the couch if–"

Before he can finish his sentence Jack turns and wraps an arm around his shoulders, dragging him down onto the pillows with him. Gabriel snorts out a laugh as they hit the bed, wriggling until he's in a more comfortable position.

"Plenty of space in here," Jack reassures him with a grin.

Gabriel chuckles at him, "You drive a hard bargain, but alright."

In the middle of the night, Jack rolls over to wrap his arms around Gabriel. He finds the other man receptive, arms opening to draw him closer. For a moment, Jack presses his face against Gabriel's neck.

"Jack…"

Something is wrong. Jack sits up onto his hands, searching Gabriel's face in the dark. Gabriel looks up at him, sleepy and confused. But something seems to slowly dawn on him and he whispers into the dark between them.

"Fight it."

Suddenly, Jack reaches out and wraps his hands around Gabriel's neck. Gabriel gasps for breath, eyes going wide, and grabs at the hands around his throat.

"Fight. It." he wheezes out, more desperate now.

Jack shakes his head, unable to stop himself. Like his hands aren't even his own. Like his body no longer belongs to him. He feels panic rising in his chest, tears stinging his eyes.

"What's happening to me?"

Gabriel is still trying to pry his hands off his neck but his attempts are getting weaker. He looks more desperate for air but still tries to speak. The words are more mouthed than anything.

"Please, fight it."

"I can't," Jack whispers, shaking as he tries to will himself to even just loosen his grip on Gabriel's neck. "I can't, I'm sorry, I can't–"

Jack jolts awake, hard, and sits up in bed panting and sweating. It takes a minute for him to make sense of the situation but eventually it all falls into place comfortingly.

It's dark. He's in his bed. Gabriel is next to him, laying on his stomach with a pillow wedged between his cheek and his arm. He's sleeping soundly. He's okay. It's okay.

Flooded with relief, Jack flops back down into bed and rolls so he can tuck his face against Gabriel's shoulder. When he does the other man gives a soft "mm" noise but otherwise doesn't stir, so he just makes himself comfortable. Let's nothing but Gabriel's scent and warmth soothe him back to sleep.

In the morning, Gabriel is gone. Jack is vaguely aware that he did say his goodbyes, but it's a mystery what the full exchange was and Gabriel likely doesn't expect him to remember. This, of course, is why there's a short note on the nightstand when Jack rolls over to grab his phone.

'Left some bath salts in your bathroom, take another bath if your back itches again. Keep your wounds clean, stay hydrated, and let me know if you notice anything odd.'

Jack pauses and cocks his head at the note. What does he mean by 'anything odd'? Odder than graphicly sexual or violent dreams and his skin literally crawling?

'Thank you for letting me sleep over. You're very cuddly.'

This earns a little grin. At least the memory of Gabriel having to coax him into letting him out of bed wasn't a dream.

'I'll come see you tonight to be sure everything is okay. Be safe. -Gabriel'

Jack smiles and sets the note down again. He picks up his phone and sends a few texts, mainly just letting his staff know he won't be in today. It seems best to give himself the day to relax. Especially with how exciting his night was…

But he does promise he'll check in around lunch, just in case they have any stressful orders.

His morning goes by relatively normally. Gabriel made sure he didn't even find any remains of his bloody evening and he's even more grateful for the man than he already was. It's only around lunch time that his day starts to feel… different.

He's headed from his car into the shop when he first sees something. At first, he's not sure what it is. It just looks like a trick of the light, some sort of shimmer in the shadow next to the building. Then, it steps into the light and his heart jumps.

It's a strange, lanky thing. All shadow, with sharp yellow eyes and a mouth that looks like a black hole. Jack reels back a step, rubs at his eyes and–

It's gone. Nothing there. Sighing, he rubs at his face again. Maybe he still needed more sleep. He'd have to sneak in a nap before Gabriel came over to check in that evening.

Still, it spikes his anxiety so hard he can't get close to the shadows on the porch next to the door. He awkwardly slips into the door with it barely cracked and tries to act casual while he fixes his rumpled shirt after. Everyone either doesn't notice or pretends not to.

Lena is at the counter going over some orders when he comes up, but she perks up when Jack leans on the counter. "Hey boss," she chirps, "you alright?"

Jack tries to shrug it off as best he can. "Yeah, just had a rough night. Think I ate something off."

"Your back okay?"

He considers his answer to this. It does feel a lot better since that bath and patch up Gabriel did. "It's doing better," he tells her. "Don't worry about me."

"Well, there's no fires to put out, so you can go back to resting," she tells him, letting Jack check over their orders anyway. "So long as it means you'll be back in time for Gabriel's order."

Right. He always handled those, and he'd promised he'd have one done tomorrow evening. He smiles and pushes the order notes back over to her.

"I'll take care of it, promise," he tells her. "Must keep my store going in the meantime."

Lena gives a little salute and grins at him as he heads back for the door. Once he's outside, Jack does his best to avoid shadows again as he heads for his car.

Maybe, just maybe, he'll have to mention that to Gabriel. It was certainly odd…

In the end, he doesn’t get the chance to. Jack gets home from the shop and is barely in the door of his apartment when the feeling starts again.

At first it's just a tickle at the back of his neck. A tingle, like a limb falling asleep. But then the itch starts again. Trying to maintain composure like a man walking to the gallows, Jack b-lines for his bathroom and starts the tub filling. Frantically, he fumbles with the small bottle of bath salts Gabriel left him.

Then he sees something in the mirror that stops him. An arm. Coming from his back, bursting out like a zombie crawling from the grave. It's covered in blood, ripping through his shirt, and for a brief moment nothing feels real. Then the pain sets in and he drops to the floor.

He jerks suddenly when something grabs his hair, yanking his head back. He expects some horror, like the creature from outside the shop before, but instead he's met with... Gabriel.

“You’re so stupid,” he purrs, the mix of fear and fondness spiking Jack’s blood pressure. “You really think I’d save you? When I’ve got much more important things to protect?”

Jack tries to swallow the lump in his throat and fails. Gabriel just grins at him.

“Poor Jack,” he sighs, “you have no idea what’s going to happen.”

And then he lets Jack’s head drop to the tile again.

“Shit, Jack,” Gabriel’s voice was different now, full of concern, but Jack still jerks up and scrambles back across the tile the second he hears it. The floor is wet, a thin coating of water on it, and the tub sloshes more out when his shoulder knocks into it.

Gabriel immediately holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, hey, easy…” he whispers, kneeling across the bathroom from him now. “It’s just me.”

Jack fights to even out his breathing, then remembers his back. He twists awkwardly, trying to see, only to find nothing. Confused, he pats at his shirt.

“You fainted,” Gabriel tells him gently, moving a few crawled steps closer. “Your nose is bleeding.”

Jack pauses, frowning, and looks back at him. He's still awkwardly reaching around to touch his back, trying to make sense of things. Something was there. Something had tried to crawl out of his flesh. Just like before. Why couldn’t Gabriel ever show up when this was happening so he could just show him?

Finally closing the gap, Gabriel reaches out and cups his cheek. Jack flinches slightly but lets him, heaving a nervous sigh as Gabriel swipes the blood off his upper lip with his thumb.

“You’re okay,” Gabriel tells him, hand still on Jack’s face.

“What’s happening, Gabriel?” Jack finally asks, anxiety bubbling harder in his chest.

He watches Gabriel’s expression change. A mix of anxiety and fear, along with something raw and almost hungry. He leans forward and presses his forehead to Jack’s, grimacing a little as he spoke.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

Jack just pulls back to look at him, brows furrowed. “Can you still fix it?”

The look in Gabriel’s eyes makes his stomach drop. Fear. Genuine fear. It rubs off on him far too easily.

“I don’t know,” Gabriel tells him. “But… I have people who can help. I just need you to trust me.”

Jack forces a weak laugh at this and gestures to the room around them. “This is the second time you’ve helped me off my bathroom floor,” he offers. “I trust you more than a lot of people I’ve known.”

Gabriel just chuckles and leans in, knocking his skull against Jack’s lightly. The raw affection of the gesture makes everything about the moment feel just slightly warmer.

“Glad you don’t make a habit of this,” he teases.

Jack just grins back at him. “I might if it means I keep getting to wake up to you.”