Where All the Saints Adorned the Walls (Angel Engine - Blueberry Angelcake)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/87350596
An unusual meeting.
This takes place while Geoff is still working at CERN (Original headcanon by @nagarehoshi-testfest ). I like to headcanon that Geoff and Steven have known each other many years before the events of the main series. In this fic in particular, it takes place 7 years before main events, Geoff here is 35, and Danica is 29, a college professor in Criminology.
Danica stalked past the window with a cat-like grace, their gloved hand ran lazily against its surface, condensation leaving a trail behind their fingertips. They were in cool weather clothes that resembled what a person from the 1940s would wear rather than one from the late 2020s; dark overcoat, ribbed black turtleneck paired with sleek black trousers, black ankle length boots, all topped off with a wide brimmed black fedora. A gentle, yet dark kind of beauty. One that appeared to Geoff like this many times before, like an overcast at night, but it shouldn't have comforted him as much as it intrigued him.
They waited for the man they've heard Geoff call “Steven” to leave before staking their claim, a careful dance of dissection of the man's body and mind. Danica played this game well with many others before him, yet, they knew Geoff was letting himself be drawn in for reasons they couldn't fathom. It made it all the more interesting, enough to break the rules their ‘progenitor’ had instilled in them since their youth. They… wanted him to be their friend. Not like the others they've had in their years, short-lived and meaningless, but someone they think is worth letting into their life, and in turn he lets them into his, allowing them to claw their way into his very being, do with him what they pleased. It shouldn't have been so simple, and yet… he approached him with a willingness that made him all the more tempting.
——————
Geoff had stayed behind after shooing Steven off, drinking himself away in the booth of the Pub. Maybe it was his alcohol addled body, maybe he was letting his emotions get the better of him, but he felt childishly angry and dejected. Maybe he was justified in this, his life leading into nothingness despite his many achievements all those years ago. He let himself spiral over and over again, until it was what felt comfortable, familiar.
Then they appeared.
Again and again. Invading his space like they were entitled to it, yet, he allows them. For reasons he wasn't ready to admit to himself. Geoff didn't say anything at first, but his eyes immediately set on that cheshire grin on their black painted lips. Danica pulled their hat off, their piercing hazel eyes inspecting him, their mouth smoothing into a frown.
Blue turtleneck, khaki pants, and his jacket draped loosely behind him. He looked out of sorts but he was admittedly a very handsome man, and they wouldn't let said handsome man drink himself to death. At least not tonight. They rested their head on a hand, leaning towards him, before they took his drink out of his hands, smooth and swift. He blinked, and before he could register the action, they downed his drink.
“I.. paid for that…”
They ignored that. "I'm getting you out of here." they reply instead.
Danica stood up, briefly looking back at him with an unreadable expression. As if they thought he'd simply follow along.
"I'm not.. going anywhere with you??"
“Why not?” They offered. “Got anything better to do than be in this filth?” Their free hand gestures around the empty pub. Geoff's lips pierced into a thin line, face indignant, but his silence seemed to be exactly what they wanted to hear.
“That's what I thought.” And off with him he went. Into their car.
——————
“Where are we going?" Geoff asked as silence stretched between the two. As is, he's listening to them like a dog being promised a treat. They could at least give him this … He's talked with this person for not even a full year and still knew fuck-all about them. What is he doing? Why is he here?
Danica’s eyes were intensely focused on the road in front of them, hands comfortably on the wheel. "Home." Then their eyes focus on him, momentarily, studying his face. Home? Geoff's face contorts into confusion, as if he hadn't thought about that possibility; as if they were merely an entity that incessantly, yet conveniently appeared in his darkest moments, rather than accept the notion of a person having his best interest in mind.
It was funny! He's a funny man.
——————
Danica invited him in without a word. Their house was dark, clean, yet messy, the room filled with an eerie green light. Greenery lined the walls, tanks filled with strange things he couldn't even begin to question as they put a deceptively gentle hand on his back. They let him lead them to his sofa and sat him down, and they followed suit.
The hat that was just sitting on their head moments prior was suddenly on the coffee table behind them.
Then, an intense bout of vertigo washed over him as they came in close proximity to him, forcing him to lean into gentle hands that he hardly noticed reaching for him until he felt them, and he allowed them to, unable to pull away, either from to his physical state, or that expression on their artful face. Like they revered him even as he was weak beneath him. Then that voice calls to him.
"Drink up." They ordered calmly.
And he obeyed, letting them grasp his chin, tipping his head back like a mother would her child. He wasn't angry, offended, not even a little confused as water was being poured into his mouth from.. where? They placed the cup on the table behind them, before they gently grabbed his cheeks. Geoff's hands lay limply in his lap, unsure of what to do, before slowly reaching for their forearms. Their eyes were intense, searching, and he felt an inkling of nervousness, suddenly feeling like a specimen beneath their gaze rather than a man.
In what felt like a second or two, in the corner of his eye, in the dimly lit kitchen, he saw.. something. Someone. But before he could react his ears were viciously drowned in voices, loud, pounding into his skull. He groaned, feverish chills raking his frame, forcing him to grasp harshly onto the first thing in front of him. Danica hugged him protectively towards their frame, their chin resting on the man's hair. They saw him. A tall, brooding presence in their kitchen: his beautiful, golden hair a complete contrast to his sunken blue eyes, tattered robes, his broken, bloody, decaying wings. His smile. Impossibly wide, threatening, malignant.
The first thing Danica felt was fear, soaking into their very bones. They couldn't breathe. Unable to curb the shaking they felt throughout their body. Their controlled demeanor completely shattered by this incredibly familiar, yet unexpected visitor. Then came the anger. The nerve of him.
“What the fuck?!”
It was barely a scream, barely a whisper from Danica. And he was gone before Geoff could pick up his head.
——————
Geoff's breathing was a brittle, shallow thing that reverberated through his chest. The vertigo slowly dissipated into a hollow, nauseating pit in his gut, accompanied by a lingering sense of dread. His hands squeezed tightly on their hips from his place in their lap, trying to anchor himself. Right then he felt a tremor running through them, a break in their composure he'd rarely seen, if ever.
“Danica..?”
His hands reached for their face, their usually fixed, short curly hair fell uneven around their face. A shaky hand smoothed over their temple, tucking their curls behind their ear. His voice wavered.
“What.. happened? What did you see?”
Danica’s body went rigid beneath his touch, and attempted to pull away, hands dropping from his shoulders to their sides in tight, clenched fists. He carefully observed every action, slowly watching them crack, and for the first time their dynamic shifted; now he was the one watching, waiting, vulnerable.
“I…” They started, their voice small and strained. Their eyes scanned the darkness of the kitchen. “I… don't know. I-I.. I thought… It's nothing.” They sighed, exhausted. “I'm .. just seeing things…”
Geoff felt a cold surge of curiosity. He didn't believe them.
"Nothing?" he repeated, the word tasting bitter.
He let his hand slide down from their temple to their chin, his thumb grazing the underside of their jaw with a firm, grounding pressure. Danica seemed to already be losing their composure at this line of questioning.
"Yes, nothing." They spat back.
Geoff’s eyes narrowed, the irritation prickling at the back of his neck. He hated being lied to, especially when the lie was so transparent it felt like an insult to his intellect. He didn't pull his hand away; instead, he leaned in closer, crowding their personal space.
"Don't lie to me, Danica." he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous silkiness. "What was it?" he demanded. "What did you see?"
Danica seemed to have had enough of him, their voice raising in octaves. "It was NOTHING.” They seemed to catch themself. “...It was nothing." They swatted his hand away from their face.
Geoff watched the frantic motion of their hand, the sting of the rejection barely registering compared to the sudden spike of adrenaline in his veins. The defiance wasn't insulting, it was intoxicating. "You're a professor of criminology, aren't you?" He prompted, his voice a low purring sound. "You spend your life dissecting the truth from the lies of others. Why are you performing such a mediocre act for me?"
He reached out again, not for their face this time, but to catch one of their hands in his, not letting them retreat. Danica sighed. "I don't have to tell you anything, Ernstmann." Their eyes meet his.
"We're friends, aren't we?" Geoff spoke, calculated manipulation Danica could read through with ease. Danica glared at him, their mouth curled downward in what almost looked like a pout.
"If we were really friends you'd cease this line of questioning.”
Geoff let out a short, dry laugh that lacked any amusement. “A generous term for two people that only poke at each other's curiosities, don't you think?” He released their hand, only to trail his fingertips down the center of their palm. “But, you're right.” He conceded, his voice softening into something dangerously intimate, a soft, velvety thing.
Danica observed this only with a soft quirk of their brow, but was ultimately too exhausted to question it, instead raising their hand to gently cup his cheek. Geoff leaned into it, the coldness of their palm sending pleasant shivers down his spine, and he couldn't think of any reason to pull away from their soft, cool hands.
He still didn't know how he let them drag him here like this.
——————
