blood in the water
Nov. 17th, 2010 05:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
onceinblueHe didn't yell, when it came down to it. Even though the urge to do so had been increasing every day Brisbane put him off, every moment he was sure the man was avoiding him, he could feel it ease away when he got his boss alone in his office. The floor had been repaired to the point where n one would realize it had been torn apart, but he knew the files that that were hidden there had probably been moved. Brisbane had good reason to have them, he was sure. That fact that they existed didn't bother him.
The anger may have been gone, but the reason behind it was not. "Why did you lie to me?"
Gabriel did not expect the silence. It was a long time before Brisbane answered him; instead, he sat at his desk, hands knitted together, studying his second-in-command. Studied him, in that way Gabriel had seen him look at so many others before. It unnerved him, but he couldn't put his finger on why. When Brisbane finally spoke, his words were heavy and quiet.
"They're hurting her."
That was weeks ago. October was a busy time, especially toward the end of the month. It was not because the supernatural conformed to a industry-driven superstition to sell candy. It was because humans did, and in doing so they made themselves more readily available to the Other. Doors were opened that should always remained closed, things were summoned that should have been left alone. There were also the regular monsters, the vampires, the skin-takers, and the rare Were clan that sought human flesh. It was easy for them to take advantage of the Hunters' increased business.
The paperwork aftermath was alone a nightmare.
He worked hard. He put in overtime, he cut back on his sleep. It was all he could do. That's all anyone could do. He understood why Brisbane lied, why he avoided Gabriel for the longest time.
The Vatican had Tatiana. They were hurting her, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
"Why?" he had asked, but it was unnecessary. He had worked for the Vatican's Hunters for too long not to know how they operated, how their line of thinking went. It didn't matter that the crazy claim that Tatiana was the physical manifestation of anything, much less the allegorical Whore of Babylon, couldn't be true. She was a threat. It was easier to deal with threats than tolerate them.
He was running out of paperwork, even after coming through his reports for errors multiple times. Half the head office was set to revolt against him. The half-jokes to tie him down and put him under house arrest were becoming more serious by the day. Last he heard, either Mereiya or Joan Kiel would be chosen for the job. Both of them would cheerfully challenge his authority on the spot.
He told his secretary, a bright young man saddled with an unfortunately long Hunting name (everyone called him Jay), that he was taking three days off, just to see the man's jaw drop. When he left the building, he was still chuckling.
He thought about it as he grabbed a few cases of beer on the way home. How bad it was that taking time off was deliberately shocking. How he drank more in private but was careful to keep his public consumption to a minimum. How he wasn't any less of an addict just because he had changed what he was addicted to.
How changed his reputation had become; no one, for years now, questioned by he had been given such a higher level Hunting name versus the usually invoked places and saints.
Mostly, he thought about Tatiana.
None of the games he'd tivoed interested him. He flicked through a collection of cop shows and far-from-reality reality tv before clicking the television off, staring into the dark screen.
There was nothing he could do.
The anger may have been gone, but the reason behind it was not. "Why did you lie to me?"
Gabriel did not expect the silence. It was a long time before Brisbane answered him; instead, he sat at his desk, hands knitted together, studying his second-in-command. Studied him, in that way Gabriel had seen him look at so many others before. It unnerved him, but he couldn't put his finger on why. When Brisbane finally spoke, his words were heavy and quiet.
"They're hurting her."
That was weeks ago. October was a busy time, especially toward the end of the month. It was not because the supernatural conformed to a industry-driven superstition to sell candy. It was because humans did, and in doing so they made themselves more readily available to the Other. Doors were opened that should always remained closed, things were summoned that should have been left alone. There were also the regular monsters, the vampires, the skin-takers, and the rare Were clan that sought human flesh. It was easy for them to take advantage of the Hunters' increased business.
The paperwork aftermath was alone a nightmare.
He worked hard. He put in overtime, he cut back on his sleep. It was all he could do. That's all anyone could do. He understood why Brisbane lied, why he avoided Gabriel for the longest time.
The Vatican had Tatiana. They were hurting her, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
"Why?" he had asked, but it was unnecessary. He had worked for the Vatican's Hunters for too long not to know how they operated, how their line of thinking went. It didn't matter that the crazy claim that Tatiana was the physical manifestation of anything, much less the allegorical Whore of Babylon, couldn't be true. She was a threat. It was easier to deal with threats than tolerate them.
He was running out of paperwork, even after coming through his reports for errors multiple times. Half the head office was set to revolt against him. The half-jokes to tie him down and put him under house arrest were becoming more serious by the day. Last he heard, either Mereiya or Joan Kiel would be chosen for the job. Both of them would cheerfully challenge his authority on the spot.
He told his secretary, a bright young man saddled with an unfortunately long Hunting name (everyone called him Jay), that he was taking three days off, just to see the man's jaw drop. When he left the building, he was still chuckling.
He thought about it as he grabbed a few cases of beer on the way home. How bad it was that taking time off was deliberately shocking. How he drank more in private but was careful to keep his public consumption to a minimum. How he wasn't any less of an addict just because he had changed what he was addicted to.
How changed his reputation had become; no one, for years now, questioned by he had been given such a higher level Hunting name versus the usually invoked places and saints.
Mostly, he thought about Tatiana.
None of the games he'd tivoed interested him. He flicked through a collection of cop shows and far-from-reality reality tv before clicking the television off, staring into the dark screen.
There was nothing he could do.
