Gabriel, theoretically, knows why he smokes. It’s nicotine, of course. Science does a simple job of explaining addiction, but the psychology of it requires an entirely different field, a social science, the one that everyone is too ashamed to admit they seek the most help from. Mr. Knox explained it to him once, the first time he caught Gabriel smoking. His torso was leaned so far over the window that he looked like he was trying to jump down instead of attempting to keep the smoke outside when a hand dragged him in by the collar and he stared wide-eyed at the Headmaster. His mouth fought between swallowing or spitting the stick out, but in the end, Mr. Knox snatched it from his lips and promptly put it out on the bottom of his shoe. Gabriel remembers staring as he did, somehow more surprised that Mr. Knox was soiling the soles of his nice shoes over anything else. He’d given him one of his long, tedious lectures then. Self-righteous but educational, and more understanding than Gabriel would’ve expected. From then on he never smoked inside the academy. Until now.
“You’d quit,” He says as he hands over the cigarette, the weight of Grace’s warm body bringing him back from his idle, grief-stricken thoughts. Nevertheless, he lets her take it and forgets ownership of it. There is nothing one of them owns that the other doesn’t. Absentmindedly, he shifts his shoulder to allow her more comfort.
For Gabriel, this is the spot where it all started. Not the training rooms, not even their first time meeting, but this small window seat that looks out to the surrounding expanse of forest. He used to sit here on his own, pulsating with anger, resentful of his circumstances while the team was away on a mission and he’d just finished another training session that yielded no results. Then Grace arrived at the academy and he was never alone again. He even remembers being angry with her about it, like somehow it was her fault for arriving that now he had to do terrible things to her. His rage was directed in every direction it could possibly reach. Gabriel made it hard to get along in the beginning, but eventually, he all but melted around her. He turned into a different person– less guarded, less upset, smiling with ease he’d never felt before.
“They’re probably too busy tearing up Mrs. Kim’s curtains to realize they’re not even home. I caught Boots wrestling his own hind leg the day before we left, that one especially has nothing in his brain.” He sounds disappointed, yet the gentle smile on Gabriel’s face is anything but. “We’ll catch up.” The wake is only meant to be a momentary trip away from home, after all. While the effects of it will certainly last longer, they’ll at least be back to their lives while they contend with the rest of their grief.
“I guess I haven’t been this cleaned up in ages.” He responds, half-hearted in his attempt to palliate his mood. “You as well.” Gabriel leans close and places his lips on the crown of her head, whispering. “How are you holding up?”
Though she felt uneasy today, being back at the academy after so long to bury their father figure, one thing remained certain: the one place she could count on to feel safe and right was at Gabriel’s side. It didn’t matter if they were in their home, in one of the apartments they rented while on the road, or here, where it all started, he was her home in every sense of the word. It made it easy to be honest, to finally be able to exhale after the day that they had and have a second to breathe.
“It’s been a long day,” Grace said plainly, staring at the cigarette now between her fingertips. “I’ll quit again later.” She hesitated before bringing it to her lips, stifling the cough that came as a result.
The description of their kitten made her giggle as she handed the cigarette back to Gabriel. “That’s what makes him so cute. But, you’re so right. I’m going to have to bake her a three-tiered cake as a thank you for handling him when we get back. To start.” It was dramatic, of course. There was plenty the two of them had done for the family over the years: plumbing issues Gabriel had helped Mr. Kim with, babysitting and cleaning Grace had done. Their neighbors were sure to insist on no payment, and they’d have to insist on thanking them somehow back. That was the pace of their chosen life now, and it was something she couldn’t wait to get back to.
Grace smiled at his compliment and leaned into the kiss he gave to her forehead, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I s’pose so.” Other than Sunday Church, there weren’t many places in their small town to get dressed up. for The two of them worked so much that they’d never get to them even if they did exist. “Scrubs and work clothes are more our speed, I think. We’d be a little too much of the talk of the town if we showed up to Rob’s Diner in suits and ties.”
Her smile started to falter at his next question, at the very the idea of reflecting on the day and how she was doing. As the weight of the day came crashing down, she just started to speak, knowing talking to him would make all of it make more sense.
“It’s just.... it’s so weird. Being back here. Nothing feels right.” Most of the time, Gabriel was the only person in the world she could pour her heart out to and know she was leaving it in trusting hands. No matter what she had to say, he always understood. “It isn’t just Harold being dead, too. It’s everything. Being back here and everything being dusty and empty. Talking to Mr. Moe about our life at home. The Enigmas, too. They’re... I don’t even know what to say. I guess I just don’t get what they’re even doing here.” She took a deep breath, leaning further into his shoulder.
“One of them gave me a scarf, though.” Grace buried her head in her hands, rubbing her eyes that were starting to tear up. From exhaustion or sadness or something in between, she couldn’t really tell. “It was actually really nice. And you?”
