asoncalledgabriel | (no subject)

His anxiety is back. Gabriel isn't sure what quite triggered it to get worse. He had a bout with it in the fall, when he kept having visions of Henry in his bathtub, but that's passed and-- He doesn't know what it is. He wouldn't say he's stressed enough at school yet to really make it an issue, yet it hangs on in old habits he's thought he's left behind.

If I hold my breath between here and the door, I'll be on time.

If I miss all the cracks in the sidewalk, nothing bad will happen.

If I love God, I'll be saved.

It's a rush of stupid, ridiculous, obsessive thoughts that he should be past by now. At night it feels the worst, as if he's awaiting some unknown dread every time he gets into bed. He finds excuses to stay with Anthony, and he feels ridiculous for it but at least when he's with someone, it feels a bit better. Listening to someone else breathe, feeling Anthony's hand against his side as he falls asleep.

Tonight, it doesn't help. The nameless terror suddenly has faces, memories attached to it. The attack starts while he's dead asleep next to Anthony, but some time in the late night or early morning, Gabriel shoots upright with a wordless cry, gasping and shaking in the dark. He feels himself crying, and he can't stop that either. And, just like in all those moments before, he can't find his voice.

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"No," he answers honestly. "But... not as bad."

Maybe it's a fine hair to split, but it feels significant to him. Sometimes he isn't sure there is anything like feeling better about something like this. But he doesn't feel as bad as he did a moment ago, and though he's nervous about going back to sleep, he feels... safe.

He musters a little smile for Anthony and kisses him again. Heavy sentiment sits on the tip of his tongue, but he can't bring himself to say it out loud. He's vulnerable enough as it is.

"At least all your secrets are about fighting for a cause," he says with a faint, sad smile.

Anthony inclines his head slightly in understanding. Gabriel’s reply is terribly reasonable and painfully honest. It’s an admirable thing, he thinks vaguely, to be able to freely articulate such thorny feelings.

He smiles dryly, brushing his thumb lightly against Gabriel’s lip. “Ah yes, they are merely treasonous,” he deadpans.

"Treason is surely a lesser crime than abominations before God," he says with a dry look of his own. God, but he loves he way that Anthony touches him. He moves a bit closer, kisses him again.

"Treachery and blasphemy. Suppose we're a pair."

He knows that Anthony puts no stock in notions of blasphemy or heresy, but Gabriel finds it weirdly funny, and he'll take any humor he can get right now.

“That's why we get on,” Anthony quips. For all his jokes, he doesn’t actually like the word ‘treason,’ or the idea of blasphemy. Both require a sense of betrayal that he has never felt.

He lightly runs his fingers through Gabriel’s hair. Some of the tension has gone out of the young man’s body, thank goodness. Anthony knows that all is not well, but Gabriel has been able to pull himself back together, and Anthony is glad about that.

Gabriel sinks back and he reaches to pull Anthony with him. He just wants to feel close, maybe even safe. He's exhausted but he isn't sure he wants to go back to sleep. What if it comes back?

Worse, what if he dreams?

He brushes a kiss to Anthony's shoulder. Gabriel doesn't think Anthony is treasonous, and he doesn't think of himself as truly blasphemous. Not anymore. But sometimes it creeps back in.

Anthony doesn’t feel protective of people very often, but when he does, it comes on fiercely. Not for the first time, the desire to keep Gabriel away from all pain and danger strikes him suddenly and makes his chest tight. He pulls Gabriel close and kisses his temple. I’m here, he doesn’t quite say, though that is what he means.