#feat. gabe

[moreferarum]

when dakota had unearthed himself , he didn't know where he was or who he was really . the area wasn't familiar to him , then again , nothing really was . all that he knew was that he was dark and he was alone . he eventually started walking , unsure of where exactly it was that he was going but his feet carried him regardless .

he wasn't sure how long he walked for before he began to slow down . his eyes settled upon a familiar house and his feet carried him across the lawn and up to the porch . dakota paused at the door , almost as if he was unsure of what to do before his gaze dropped down . it was unfamiliar yet familiar at the same time , as if his body was moving on muscle memory versus anything else as he bent down to lift up a small plot , retrieving a spare key .

dakota pushed open the door , dogs rushing to greet him before stopping in their tracks . one whined before backing away but dakota didn't pay much mind as he moved further inside , not bothering to shut the door behind him . his eyes danced over the room , not registering who's home he was in before he stopped in front of some pictures . his eyes looked over at them before stopping at a specific one . dakota's hands reached out , dirt falling from his fingertips as he brushed over the picture of an older man with another before finally picking it up .

his eyes stayed on it as he ventured further into the house , his feet stopping him in the living room as he took a seat , unaware of how dirty and muddy he truly was . @morendodifame

[tatumxkeller]

@gabrielcastillo "What gift did you bring?" Tatum asked as she placed some of the food she'd plated up into her mouth. "I'm trying to see if I brought some good stuff or not.. i'm scared they will hate it."

[decthmessiah]

   it was almost funny , really , how one man believed that he could somehow draw out whatever had attached itself to his son . how he thought the power of being inside the church , spewing words his son no longer believed in , would somehow change anything . it was amusing to witness . it was amusing to watch as the hope that this would work slowly drain away . brian morgan was doing nothing more than making things worse and this exorcism was doing nothing more than pissing it off while causing damage to such a fragile body .

dakota sat there , one broken cuff on one wrist and the other still attached to the pew . he almost appeared bored . he had watched the former pastor panic , watched him pace back and forth , and watched as he disappeared outside for a phone call before eventually coming back inside . the demon was playing possum in a way , for the moment . it barely spoke to him , barely made eye contact . dakota’s eyes only seemed to shift when the sound of car doors closing outside was hear and he almost smirked then . ‘  mansa  plusquam  rodere ,  pater ? ‘ @mvndkiller​

[moreferarum]

dakota pushed open the door letting it shut behind him as he moved further into the room , dropping his now cold coffee in the trash . he moved over to the table , taking a seat as he let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand down his face , dropping it when he heard movement . " hey , " he breathed out , lifting his gaze . @morendodifame

[tatumxkeller]

@gabrielcastillo

"I don't think he is ever going to remember me." Tatum sighed as she slumped down on Gabe's sofa. Every so often she found herself falling back into the same routine of finding hope within herself when it came to Monty remembering her, a slight glimpse of hope just for it to all come crashing down again. She was setting herself up for failure each time.

[semetaryghosts]

a greater man wouldn't beg but i looked to the sky and said , " please . " @devouredlamb

[semetaryghosts]

turn my body into art . tell me you're obsessed cause i think that it's the best part . @devouredlamb

[murray-baumans]

who: Murray & @scribblcs

where: the Bauman home

Murray had spent the better part of the last hour attempting to pick out a record he thought Dr. Gabe would like. He had a pretty expansive collection, and was always able to find a reason to second guess his choice. For some reason, this choice felt major-- like if he picked the wrong thing, Gabe would find an excuse to leave before dinner. Maybe it was the nerves talking. In the end, Murray settled on a Chet Baker compilation. Everybody liked jazz, right?

In preparation for the dinner, Murray had strongly suggested that Quinn find something else to do, which he felt marginally bad about. But, really, he didn’t need the added stress of his daughter listening from her room during his... not-date with the new trauma therapist in town. They hadn’t exactly broached the topic of Murray’s love life, and he couldn’t even be sure she knew he swung both ways. Of course, not much got past her, so hopefully that would be an easy conversation.

He was running only slightly behind schedule when his guest of honor knocked at the door. Murray’s heart leapt into his throat and he shut the oven, abandoning quilted oven mitts on kitchen counter as he made his way to the door. “You found me!” Murray exclaimed, bright smile in tow as he welcomed Gabe into his home, which he’d meticulously cleaned earlier in the day and even staged with some flowers from Melvald’s. His work notes and clippings were stashed in his closet, and it made the living room feel almost... homey. 

Murray led Gabe into the kitchen, where he had an assortment of wine bottles-- red, white, and sparkling. “Dinner will be about ten more minutes, the asparagus is still roasting. Can I get you a glass of wine?” he asked, leaning an elbow on the counter and waiting for Gabe’s instruction. After he’d given the man a glass and topped off his own, Murray motioned for Gabe to follow him. “I’ll give you the grand tour.” Murray motioned to the back door, at the unending stretch of forest. “Huge back yard, it’ll really skyrocket the value in a few years, don’t you think?” he teased, before walking down to the main hallway. “Bathroom is the first door on the right, next to my daughter’s room. Mine is on the left,” he explained, pointing accordingly. “And then the living room and the kitchen.” Murray took him back into the living room, then returned to the kitchen. It wasn’t much by any means, but it was his. 

As the timer went off, he slipped the oven mitts back on and pulled the asparagus and focaccia bread out of the oven. It smelled heavenly, if he could say so himself. Closing the oven with his hip, Murray grabbed two plates to dish out the food: mushroom risotto, asparagus tossed in lemon, parmesan, and Italian herbs, and handmade focaccia. “Shall we?”