Witch’s Promise (Shadowguards #3.5)

13. Gabe

Chapter 13

Gabe

F uck, how had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

Gabe's muscles screamed in protest as he carried his father's limp form up the stairs. The night's chaos weighed heavily on him, each step a stark reminder of how quickly everything had spiraled out of control.

"Sean," he called out, voice strained. "Can you take Gino to the living room? There's a couch where he can rest."

Sean nodded, concern etched on his face as he carefully lifted Gino's unconscious body. "Sure thing. Where should I go after?"

"Meet me in the master bedroom," Gabe replied, adjusting his grip on his father. "But first, grab a vial of green liquid from the kitchen cupboard. It's Mom's healing potion."

As Sean disappeared down the hallway with Gino, Gabe continued his arduous journey to the master bedroom. The familiar space now felt alien, tainted by the night's violence.

Gabe staggered under his father's dead weight, muscles screaming in protest as he navigated the familiar hallway. The events of the night pressed down on him, each step a reminder of how quickly everything had gone to hell.

The door to the bedroom burst open before they reached it, Gabe's mother and sister spilling out into the hallway. The moment his mother’s eyes landed on her husbands’s bloodied form, a keening wail escaped her lips, the sound tearing at Gabe's already frayed nerves.

"Oh god, Damian," his mother sobbed, her hands fluttering uselessly over her husband's prone form. "What happened? How-"

"Later, Mom," Gabe cut her off, hating the harshness in his voice but knowing they didn't have time for explanations. "We need to get him on the bed. Now."

Giana, her face pale and drawn, stepped back to let them through. As they maneuvered his dad onto the king-sized bed, Gabe couldn't help but notice how small his father looked, how fragile. This was the man who'd taught him everything he knew about magic, who'd always seemed larger than life. Now he lay there, broken and bleeding, and it was all Gabe's fault.

Not long after he heard the door open again and Sean came in.

"Sean," Gabe said, turning to the other man. He looked as shell-shocked as Gabe felt, his eyes wide and haunted in a way that spoke of old traumas resurfacing. "Look, I know this is a lot to ask, but... could you stay? Help out? I mean, if you need to go, I get it, but-"

"I'm not going anywhere," Sean cut him off, his voice rough but determined. "Whatever you need, Gabe. I'm here."

The relief that flooded through Gabe at those words was almost embarrassing in its intensity. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak past the lump in his throat.

Turning to his mother and sister, Gabe forced himself to push down the panic and grief threatening to overwhelm him. They needed a leader now, someone to take charge and get shit done. And like it or not, that someone had to be him.

"Okay, listen up," he said, infusing his voice with a confidence he didn't feel. "We need to keep Dad stable until help arrives. Mom, Giana, I need you to use every healing spell you know. Anything that might slow the spread of the poison or boost his vitals. Can you do that?"

Her mom nodded, wiping away tears with a shaking hand. "Of course. But Gabe, sweetie, what about you? Your magic-"

"I've got to make a call," Gabe cut her off, already pulling out his SHD. "There's someone who might be able to help. Just keep him alive, okay? Please."

The desperation in his voice must have been evident, because his mom’s expression softened, a hint of her usual strength shining through the fear. "We've got this, honey. Go make your call."

Gabe nodded, squeezing his mother's shoulder before turning to leave. As he reached the door, he caught Sean's eye. The other man stood there, looking lost and more than a little out of place among the magical chaos unfolding around him.

"Sean, I-" Gabe started, not even sure what he wanted to say. Thank you? I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess? I'm glad you're here even though I have no fucking clue how to feel about you being back in my life?

But Sean just nodded, a ghost of his old cocky smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Go. Do what you need to do. I'll hold down the fort here."

Gabe managed a tight nod before slipping out of the room. The hallway outside was eerily quiet, the sounds of the party and subsequent attack feeling like a distant memory. As Gabe made his way downstairs, he couldn't help but notice the signs of hasty departure - overturned furniture, abandoned drinks, a lone shoe lying in the middle of the floor.

Thank fuck most of the guests had managed to get out safely. The last thing they needed was civilian casualties on top of everything else.

With shaking hands, Gabe pulled up Finn's contact info on his SHD. This would be the second time in a week he'd had to call in a favor from their resident magical healer. At this rate, Gabe was going to owe Finn his firstborn child or something.

The call connected on the second ring, Finn's voice tight with concern. "Gabe? What's wrong? Don't tell me Jessy's condition has worsened-"

"It's not Jessy," Gabe cut him off, his voice sounding strained even to his own ears. "It's my dad. There was an attack at the party. He's been stabbed with some kind of dark magic dagger. Finn, I... I don't know what to do."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, followed by a string of colorful curses that would have made Gabe smile under different circumstances. "Fuck, Gabe. Okay, I'm on my way. I'll get Marcus to give me a lift - we'll be there as fast as his speedy ass can manage."

Relief flooded through Gabe, making his knees weak. "Thank you. God, Finn, I don't know how to-"

"Save it," Finn cut him off, his tone gruff but not unkind. "You can grovel and promise me your eternal servitude later. For now, I need you to listen carefully. You've got to use your magic to slow the spread of the dark energy. Can you do that?"

Gabe's mind raced, panic threatening to overwhelm him. "I... I don't know how. Finn, I've never dealt with anything like this before."

"Yes, you have," Finn insisted. "Remember that case in Brooklyn last year? The cursed amulet? Same principle, different scale. You've got this, Gabe. I believe in you."

As Finn rattled off instructions, Gabe felt a curious mix of gratitude and resentment wash over him. Gratitude for Finn's unwavering support, for his ability to cut through Gabe's bullshit and get him focused on what needed to be done. But resentment, too, at the weight of expectation that seemed to press down on him from all sides.

Everyone always believed in him, always expected him to save the day. But what if he couldn't? What if, this time, his best wasn't good enough?

"Gabe? You still with me?" Finn's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. "I know it's a lot, but your dad needs you. You've got to keep it together, at least until I get there. Okay?"

Gabe took a deep breath, forcing down the panic and self-doubt. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I've got this. Just... hurry, alright?"

"Already on our way," Finn assured him.

As the call disconnected, Gabe leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling every one of his thirty-odd years. The events of the night crashed over him in a wave of sensory memory - the crack of magic in the air, the acrid smell of smoke, the sticky warmth of his father's blood on his hands.

Christ, what a fucking mess.

But there wasn't time for self-pity or recrimination. His family needed him. His coven needed him. And damned if he was going to let them down now.

With renewed determination, Gabe pushed off the wall and made his way back upstairs. He could hear his mom and sister's voices from the bedroom, chanting healing spells in a rhythmic cadence that spoke of long practice. As he pushed open the door, the scene before him made his heart clench.

Gabe pushed open the bedroom door, the familiar scent of his parents' room now tainted with the coppery odor of blood and the acrid stench of dark magic. The scene before him made his stomach lurch. His father, usually so strong and imposing, lay pale and still on the bed. His mother and Giana hovered over him, their hands glowing with healing energy as they chanted spells in a desperate, rhythmic cadence.

"Any change?" Gabe asked, his voice sounding hollow even to his own ears.

His mom looked up, exhaustion etched into every line of her face. "He's stable, for now. But Gabe, this dark magic it's like nothing I've ever encountered. I can feel it corrupting him, eating away at his very essence."

Gabe's jaw clenched, the weight of responsibility settling onto his shoulders like a physical thing. He nodded, trying to project a confidence he didn't feel. "Okay. I might be able to help with that."

His eyes darted to the corner of the room, where Sean stood silently wringing out a damp towel. Gabe couldn't read the expression on his ex's face - was it concern? Discomfort? Regret? There wasn't time to decipher Sean's emotional state, not when his father's life hung in the balance.

Taking a deep breath, Gabe approached the bed. Healing magic had never been his strong suit - he was more of a "blow shit up first, ask questions later" kind of witch. But Finn's words echoed in his mind, a lifeline in the chaos. He could do this. He had to do this.

"I need you all to step back," Gabe said, his voice steadier than he felt. "This might get a little intense."

As his family moved away, creating a small circle of space around the bed, Gabe raised his hand over his father's prone form. The black-handled dagger still protruded from his dad’s chest, a sinister reminder of how quickly everything had gone to hell.

Gabe wrapped his fingers around the hilt, feeling the pulse of dark energy thrumming through the weapon. With a silent prayer to whatever higher power might be listening, he began to pull.

The dagger resisted at first, as if it had fused with his dad’s flesh. Gabe grit his teeth, pouring his will into the action. Slowly, agonizingly, the blade began to slide free. As it emerged, a cloud of inky darkness billowed from the wound, filling the air with a miasma of malevolent energy.

"Fuck," Gabe muttered, tossing the dagger aside. He placed his hand over the gaping wound, calling forth every ounce of magical energy he possessed.

White-gold light bloomed beneath his palm, warm and pure in contrast to the oily darkness seeping from his father's body. Gabe pushed harder, visualizing his magic as a tidal wave of cleansing energy. Sweat beaded on his brow as he poured more and more of himself into the spell, feeling the dark magic resist and recoil.

For a heart-stopping moment, nothing seemed to be happening. The darkness swirled and pulsed, pushing back against Gabe's efforts with terrifying force. But then, almost imperceptibly at first, it began to retreat.

Gabe pressed his advantage, his entire world narrowing to this singular point of contact between his magic and the invasive darkness. He lost track of time, lost awareness of anything beyond the ebb and flow of magical energy. It could have been minutes or hours later when he finally felt the tide turn decisively in his favor.

The dark magic receded, contained - for now - within the confines of the wound. It wasn't gone completely, but it was no longer actively spreading through his dad’s body. Gabe sagged with relief, suddenly aware of how utterly drained he felt.

"It worked," he managed to croak out, his voice rough with exhaustion. "At least, I think it did. It should buy us some time until Finn gets here."

His mom rushed forward, her hands already glowing with diagnostic magic as she checked her husband’s vitals. "Oh, thank the spirits," she breathed. "His energy feels cleaner somehow. Less corrupted. Gabe, how did you-"

"Just a stop-gap measure," Gabe cut her off, not wanting to get into the complexities of what he'd done. Hell, he wasn't even sure he fully understood it himself. "The real cavalry's on its way. Finn and Marcus should be here soon."

Giana, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the ordeal, suddenly spoke up. "What about Jessy? Is she... I mean, did anyone see what happened to her?"

The question hit Gabe like a sucker punch to the gut. In the chaos of trying to save his father, he'd almost forgotten about the other victim of tonight's attack. Shame and guilt flooded through him. Some hero he was turning out to be.

"She was taken," Gabe admitted, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "I saw them dragging her away, but I couldn't... fuck, I should have done something. I should have-"

"We'll find her, and we'll get to the bottom of all this. But right now, your father needs us. We should focus on keeping him stable until help arrives.” His mom said.

"You're right," he said, squeezing his mother's hand. "We'll figure it all out. We always do.” He turned to Giana. “Gi, can you please look after Gino? He’s currently unconscious trying to save Jessy.”

“I’ll go.” Giana said before leaving the room.

Gabe leaned down, bringing his lips close to his father's ear. "Help's on the way, Dad," he whispered. "Just hang in there, okay? We need you. I need you."

The lump in his throat threatened to choke him, and Gabe knew he had to get out of the room before he completely lost his shit. Without a word to the others, he turned and strode out, his feet carrying him on autopilot through the house and out into the backyard.

The cool night air hit him like a physical blow, clearing some of the fog from his mind. Gabe took a deep, shuddering breath, finally allowing himself to really look at the destruction surrounding him.

What had started as a joyous celebration now looked like a war zone. Overturned tables, shattered glasses, and tattered decorations littered the ground. Here and there, scorch marks and magical residue spoke of the battle that had raged just hours before. It was like something out of one of Gabe's nightmares - the kind that left him drenched in sweat, gasping for air in the dark of night.

Gabe tilted his head back, staring up at the star-studded sky. It seemed obscene somehow, that the universe could be so vast and indifferent while his world crumbled around him. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting against the tide of despair threatening to overwhelm him.

He couldn't lose his dad. He wouldn't. The alternatives were too horrifying to contemplate.

"Gabe?"

The voice startled him, though some part of him had known Sean would follow him out here. Gabe turned, taking in the sight of his ex-boyfriend silhouetted against the warm light spilling from the house. Sean looked uncertain, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with them.

"You okay?" Sean asked, then immediately winced. "Fuck, sorry. That's a stupid question. Of course you're not okay."

And just like that, something inside Gabe broke. All the fear, the guilt, the crushing weight of expectation - it all came crashing down on him at once. Before he could stop himself, he was moving, closing the distance between them in three long strides.

Gabe collided with Sean's chest, his arms wrapping around the other man's waist as he buried his face in the crook of his neck. For a heart-stopping moment, Sean froze, his body going rigid with surprise. But then, slowly, hesitantly, his arms came up to encircle Gabe.

"I can't do this," Gabe sobbed, his words muffled against Sean's shirt. "I can't... fuck, Sean, I'm not strong enough. I'm not good enough. They all expect me to save everyone, to have all the answers, but I don't. I don't know what I'm doing, and now Dad might die, and Jessy's gone, and it's all my fault, and I just... I can't..."

He trailed off, choking on the words as tears streamed down his face. Gabe waited for Sean to pull away, to offer some awkward platitude or make an excuse to leave. It's what he deserved, after all. To be left alone with his failure and inadequacy.

But Sean didn't let go. If anything, his arms tightened around Gabe, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head.

"Hey, hey," Sean murmured, his voice low and soothing. "It's okay. Let it out. I've got you."

And Gabe did. He cried like he hadn't allowed himself to in years, great heaving sobs that shook his entire body. He cried for his father, lying broken and poisoned in that too-big bed. For Jessy, scared and alone in the hands of God-knows-who. For the coven that was now his responsibility, whether he was ready for it or not.

But most of all, he cried for himself. For the scared little boy who had always tried so hard to be what everyone needed him to be. For the man he'd become, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and slowly crumbling beneath it.

Through it all, Sean held him. His presence was steady, grounding in a way Gabe hadn't realized he'd been missing. When the storm of emotion finally began to subside, leaving Gabe feeling wrung out and raw, Sean still didn't let go.

"I'm sorry," Gabe mumbled, suddenly aware of the wet patch he'd left on Sean's shirt. "God, I'm such a mess. I shouldn't have-"

"Don't," Sean cut him off, pulling back just far enough to meet Gabe's eyes. His expression was soft, a mixture of concern and something deeper, something Gabe wasn't ready to put a name to. "Don't apologize. Not for this. Never for this."

Gabe managed a watery smile, feeling simultaneously exposed and oddly comforted. "When did you get so wise, huh?"

Sean's answering smile was tinged with sadness. "Let's just say I've had my fair share of breakdowns over the years. Figured it was time to be on the other side of one for a change."

The simple honesty in those words hit Gabe like a physical blow. There was so much unresolved between them, so many hurt feelings and misunderstandings to work through. But in that moment, standing in the wreckage of his father's birthday party with Sean's arms still loosely encircling him, Gabe felt a flicker of something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years.

Hope.