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[personal profile] graveyardboots
The bombs fall and they hide in a church. Pope declares them chosen and it fits with what Mancea hears; the voice he hears now in the place of the scream of bombs falling.

Then the bombs keep falling and they get separated. He takes Gabe and a corpsman and he runs for the woods. It's instinctive. The corpsman is injured, though, and Mancea finds them a cabin to rest in. But the prognosis isn't good.

"What will we do?" he asks Gabe quietly one night. "I don't think I can save her. God says she is meant for paradise."

Date: 2025-12-24 04:07 pm (UTC)
minuteofangle: (012)
From: [personal profile] minuteofangle
"Not yet," Gabe agrees. And in that there's possibility if not precisely hope. Gabe's never been one to hit a wall and give up. It's cost him sometimes. He's taken more scars because of it. But he's still alive, in the end.

That's something, right?

He shifts to bump his arm against Mancea's. "Maybe you got faith enough for both of us."

He thinks Vickers is going to die. But maybe not. They'll operate like she'll make it until she doesn't.

Date: 2025-12-25 01:30 am (UTC)
minuteofangle: (002)
From: [personal profile] minuteofangle
Gabe hums and lays his hand on Mancea’s shoulder, reaching for his stick with the other. He worries about being on watch; there are things he just doesn’t notice anymore, details he misses that the others wouldn’t. But his hearing is still good despite how many gunshots he’s been around. He has training. And the simple truth is that Mancea needs sleep, too.

“Rest,” he says, instead of making any promises about faith. “I got you.”

He’s always loved Mancea. And for Gabe, love involves trust.

Date: 2025-12-25 10:19 pm (UTC)
minuteofangle: (002)
From: [personal profile] minuteofangle
“Easy.”

Gabe lays his hand on Mancea’s head, his own voice calm and slow. Controlled. It’s not the first time one of them has startled awake. If it goes violent, that won’t be the first time either.

“It’s just me.”

Vickers is still breathing. Beyond that, Gabe can’t say.

Date: 2025-12-26 12:23 am (UTC)
minuteofangle: (129)
From: [personal profile] minuteofangle
"No."

He resists the urge to press into Mancea's hand, to linger here. They have work to do.

"She doesn't sound worse, at least."

Date: 2025-12-27 02:07 am (UTC)
minuteofangle: (002)
From: [personal profile] minuteofangle
“Yep.”

Ready as he’ll ever be. Gabe exhales and scrubs at his face again.

“You’re gonna have to guide me. I thought about doing a tether like when we go jogging, but there’re too many ways that could go wrong.”

If they get tangled up on something, they’ll get each other killed.

“So, you’re gonna have to take point. You good with that?”

Date: 2025-12-27 02:25 am (UTC)
minuteofangle: (018)
From: [personal profile] minuteofangle
In the end, they don’t have much fear to pack up. That’s half the problem right there. They’ve gotten separated from the group and now the world’s gone fucking crazy on them, lost the thread in a way the universe doesn’t seem inclined to knot off properly. Maybe this is just the shape the world’s going to take now.

Gabe packs what shit he can and gets his stick. And when the time comes, he takes Mancea’s arm. This part, at least, he’s good at. “No big risks without big rewards,” he murmurs. “Let’s agree now.”

Date: 2025-12-27 03:02 pm (UTC)
minuteofangle: (014)
From: [personal profile] minuteofangle
Gabe puffs out a breath. Worst part is he can't argue. They need medical supplies. Vickers might die. Will probably die no matter what they do. And Mancea's cut needs to be treated properly or he might get sick too, compounding the issue.

Nothing here is without risk. Not a single goddamn thing.

"Okay," he agrees unhappily. This is just where they find themselves. "But leave the heroics to me, kay?"

Date: 2025-12-28 05:30 pm (UTC)
minuteofangle: (Default)
From: [personal profile] minuteofangle
Gabe makes a face. “Just don’t use it if you don’t need it,” he says after a moment. “They’re attracted to sound, you noticed that?”

Date: 2025-12-28 08:43 pm (UTC)
minuteofangle: (140)
From: [personal profile] minuteofangle
“I’ve got a a punch knife and my stick.”

Not good. He had a taser when this started but discovered that did fuck all for the dead. It wasn’t a pleasant revelation.

Gabe squeezes Mancea’s arm. They’re in trouble, he knows. “We’re gonna have to keep someone on watch when we get back with the others just to make sure the others don’t make too much noise.”

Date: 2025-12-28 09:40 pm (UTC)
minuteofangle: (002)
From: [personal profile] minuteofangle
Showtime. Gabe centers himself, breathing out slow. He can’t hear much of anything beyond their footfalls. “Describe it.”

Date: 2025-12-28 10:27 pm (UTC)
minuteofangle: (027)
From: [personal profile] minuteofangle
Four stories. Okay. Gabe nods slowly, thinking back to all the hospitals he's ever been in.

"Should be big doors," he says. "Decent sight lines. It on fire?"

A lot of places still are, though he can't smell any smoke.

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