Gabriel
Chapter Twenty-Seven


Canyon Ferry Dam
September 25, 2001
8:58 p.m.


It wasn't as hollow and dark as he'd expected,
though there was barely enough room on the
suspended bridge for one man to navigate.  The
electricity hadn't been knocked out in that part
of the dam and a single lamp burned on the
railing every twenty feet or so, lighting his
way.  He didn't see Jesse, which gave him some
relief; at least the man had made it across.  Or
had he?  Gabriel stopped for a second, looking
at the rush of water below.  If his father's men
had discovered the catwalk, then they'd surely
take care of any intruders.

As he approached the middle span, he was almost
deafened by the plumes of water just under his
feet.  He debated whether or not to pull out his
flashlight, then decided to chance it, seeing a
rope snaking down from above.  A satisfied grin
slashed across his face... scaffolding, right
above him.  Pocketing his flashlight, he grabbed
the rope and began to climb.

He tried to be quick about it, but the weight
his body put on his shoulder was tremendous and
he gritted his teeth against the dull needles of
pain.  Under his fingers, the rope felt like
paper.  Sun-dried and smelling faintly of mold,
it swung him about like a rag-doll.  He knew it
had been rotting in this wilderness for a year
or more, but there was no other choice.  He had
to get up that wall.

As he left the water behind, he began to hear
voices above.  Soft, but there.  On the next
pull up, his hand rammed into something solid. 
Saying a quick 'thank you' to the heavens, he
scrambled over the edge of the scaffolding, his
chest heaving as he struggled for strength.  For
a second or two, he just laid there, gathering
his wits and his breath.

Until he heard an ominous crack under his back. 
With a sudden rush of fear, he got to his hands
and knees, spreadeagled on the rotting wood.  It
seemed to be splitting in the middle of the
floor and he gently drew himself up by the pipes
that served as railings, keeping his feet firmly
on the edges for support.  When he'd made it up
he waited, gulping as the whole thing swayed in
the wind stirred up from below.  There wasn't
anything to hold on to but the pipes and his
hands were white-knuckled as he waited for the
unsteady platform to settle down.

As soon as it slowed, he chanced a look up.  The
top of the dam awaited him about ten yards above
and he could make out bright light trickling
over its edge.  The exchange was in progress and
he knew there was no more time to waste. 
Sliding his feet to the opposite end of the
scaffolding, he grabbed the rope dangling from
the pulley and began to haul himself up, hoping
the shaky thing that stood between him and
certain death would last for a few more minutes.

"I'm coming, Scully," he muttered, the rope
getting slick from his sweaty palms.  "Hang on."

It seemed like forever, those few feet of
distance narrowing as the scaffolding creaked up
on the rusty mechanism.  In his slow haste to
reach the top, he'd forgotten about the radio,
until a voice blared, making him jump.

"Mulder!  Come back!  We got it!"

Couldn't be... no, they couldn't be that
fortunate.  He was hearing the echo of his
shattered hopes, his mind giving him what he
wanted most desperately.  He kept moving, sure
what he'd heard was a figment of his overwrought
imagination.

"Mulder!"  Again, it sought to stop him.  It
could have been Frohike, but he wasn't sure, the
noise of the water distorting the voice.  What
if his father's men had caught on to where he
was?  Were they trying to make him give his
location up?  "Mulder!  Damn it, answer me!"

Biting his lip over his fruitless hope, he hung
on to the rope with one hand as he reached for
his radio with the other.  He had to find out if
it really was Frohike, but he searched his mind
for the appropriate response.  His father knew
all about his former friends - hell, he probably
had shapeshifters in his back pocket, pulling
them out like puppets on a string when he needed
them.

Taking a deep breath, he depressed the orange
button.  "Who saved your ass?" he barked into
the speaker.

"What?  Come back, ya moron and quit fucking
around."

"I said, who saved your ass?"  Please let it be
them, he prayed.  I need some good news right
about now.

The transmission went dead for a moment, then a
low chuckle rumbled over the line.  "Jesus at
your service, Gabe."

Jesse.  Closing his eyes with a gulp of relief,
he brought the radio up.  "Jesse, put Frohike
back on."

More silence, then, "We got it, dude.  Thanks to
your... whatever the hell this behemoth is."

Gabriel allowed himself a small smile then
responded, "Get back to the dam.  Don't let
anyone leave."

"But where the hell are you?"

Good question, Gabriel thought.  He didn't want
to take the time to explain.  Instead, he signed
off with, "Rock climbing... good for the arms. 
Now get going."  This time, he turned the radio
off before slipping it back into his coat.  He
wanted no more interruptions and certainly
didn't want to tip off the men above as he got
closer.

It was up to him now.  Grab Julia once the
exchange was complete, then make sure his father
never saw another sunrise.  With renewed
purpose, he began to rise again, his hands
working faster.  A half-minute later, he was
perched just below the top; he secured the rope
and reached up, his eyes peering over the edge.

They were all there.  Spencer, leaning on his
cane as he stood, his free hand fisted at this
side. Krycek, standing close behind Spencer, his
eyes black with hatred as he stared down the man
approaching from the far end.  "You were
supposed to arrive by truck," Spencer snarled,
his voice clipped with anger, his face drawn
into a frozen mask of realization.

*Now* you believe me don't you? Gabriel wanted
to scream.  If he could, he'd jump over the edge
and slap the old fart silly.  But his nose
sidetracked his thoughts, twitching as the
constant breeze brought to him a new sensation. 
An old distaste.

The cigarette smoke advanced into the circle of
light first, winding its way with insidious
announcement of the recent arrival.  "My failing
health wouldn't allow a long ride in a vehicle. 
Surely you understand?"

Gabriel felt the familiar loathing for his
father rise up in his throat.  Even before he
laid eyes on him, he wanted to kill him. He
watched as Spender moved forward, taken aback at
just how wretched he looked.  He still was able
to walk, though he was a mirror of Spencer with
his cane.  His hair was steel-gray and thin, the
lines on his face more pronounced than ever.  He
brought the cigarette up as his smile faded,
taking a pronounced drag before asking, "Do you
have what I want?" 

Several men with guns backed up each combatant
in the showdown.  Gabriel was jittery at all the
firepower - it would be so easy for someone to
get hurt.  So easy for *her* to be injured.  He
caught his breath as Spencer turned to give
Krycek a nod.  Krycek backed away as Spencer
faced his opponent once again.  "Do you have
what *I* want?"

Spender nodded with closed lips, gesturing for
the man nearest him to step forward.  In the
light, the vial the menial held up glowed amber,
shining like a jewel.  It looked exactly like
the substance Gabriel had held in his own hand
so long ago... the vaccine.  He wouldn't be a
bit surprised if Matthew's ailments could be
cured by the same concoction that had driven the
virus from his partner in Antarctica.  If -
*when* they made it back to the train, he'd
broach the subject with Kurtzweil.  Surely the
doctor would not use it all and any left over
would mean a great deal to eradicating the
lingering alien threat worldwide.

"More than enough, wouldn't you say?" his father
purred, his eyes silently transmitting something
more.  When Spencer straightened, his mouth
dropping open slightly, Gabriel knew he was
right.  He could see it written on the gnarled
faces of the two adversaries; they both knew
what was in the vial, and just how little it
took to drive away the alien demons from the
human body.

"And the chip?" Spencer bit out.

"She gets it when we leave."  Spencer's smile
faded, his eyes hardening to chips of ice. 
"Now... where is she?"

Damn it.  Gabriel seethed, moments away from
vaulting over the wall to strangle the old man. 
He should have known his father would thwart
them in every way possible.

But Spencer, to his credit and Gabriel's relief,
was not threatened.  His voice was firm,
demanding, "Show it to me... or she stays."

Taking a last drag from his cigarette, Spender
dropped it to the pavement.  "Well, it seems we
are at an impasse."

"Only because you refuse to make a move,"
Spencer replied, his words becoming hard and
brittle in the night air.  "Produce the chip -
or you die."

"If I die, so does your grandson." Spender
faltered just a bit; Gabriel could see the
stand-off wearing him down.  "Such valor from a
man who's ordered the deaths of so many.  What
is she to you?"

As his father sagged, Gabriel noted the opposite
in Spencer.  He seemed to grow taller, more
imposing as he gained the upper hand in the war
of wills.  "She is my grandson's savior.  A
better person than you or I will ever be." 
Taking a step forward, he added, "The chip, if
you please... or this conversation is ended."

The seconds ticked away as the two stood facing
each other.  One sinking deeper into evil, his
whole body exuding the stink of desperation.  It
traveled to Gabriel's nose on the back of the
cigarette smoke as his father lit up yet again,
his every move designed to stall.

Spencer, however, was an immovable statue, the
only sign of emotion the glittering promise of
his foe's death should their meeting cease
without a resolution.  Gabriel knew his father
sensed something amiss in Spencer's approach;
and why not?  If his father had a backup plan
for ultimate success, then surely he had to
figure that Spencer would have one as well.  He
had to have known Spencer would try to save
Julia just as he was trying to save his
grandson.  It was inevitable.  Gabriel waited
with bated breath for all hell to break loose,
certain that gunfire was just on the horizon.

But it didn't come.  In the bat of an eye, his
father relented, flicking his ashes at the man
beside him as he said softly, "Let him see it." 
Lifting his cane, he poked its head in the air,
his eyes never leaving Spencer.

The guard slung his weapon over his shoulder and
reached for Spender's cane.  A twist of the
serpent head and the cane opened; another glass
vial, this one smaller than the one for Matthew,
popped up from the depths of the tube.  With
shaky fingers, the guard screwed the cane back
together, then held up the valuable bone of
contention for all to see.

Gabriel narrowed his gaze, trying like hell to
pick out the chip in the glass.  Though it was
very small, he figured he should be able to see
it catch the light.  And with a twist of the
guards fingers, it did just that, sliding along
the side of the vial as Gabriel sucked in a
ragged breath.  Victory was at hand.  He could
feel the tide turning.

Spender settled once again upon his cane, taking
the chip in one bony hand.  "Now.  Bring her
out."

Two birds with one stone, Gabriel thought. 
Reaching for the knife, he prepared to vault
over the wall, no longer content to wait for
Matthew's cure to make its way across the
divide.  He wanted that chip.  He wanted Julia. 
A moment of hesitation at the possibility that
Matthew would end up on the short end of the
stick brought some sadness, but he knew
Spencer's men would move in once he made his
move.  But as he lifted his head a bit higher,
he stilled, fear stopping his advance.

A slight figure moved forward from the darkness
beyond the outer circle of light.  One slim hand
peeked out from the folds of the cape to wrap
around the artificial limb.

Julia.  She was pale in the glaring light,
though her face was haughty, framed in the black
hood as she stood tall.  It was obvious she
didn't relish being so close to Krycek.  Gabriel
wondered what they'd told her to get her to come
with them.  She knew they'd come for Matthew's
cure, but once she realized she was the
bargaining tool, she was bound to kick up a
fuss.

"Julia," Spender greeted her, "so nice to see
you again, my dear."

Shit, he groaned inwardly.  He'd hoped to leave
her out of the melee to come.  Now it was
looking more like she'd be caught in the middle.

Taken aback, Julia paused, her brow knitting.
"Do I know you?"

"Of course you do, Julia," Spender murmured. 
"I'm an old friend of yours... and Alex's."  At
the blatant lie, Krycek's face became stony, but
he said nothing.  "You're going to be my guest
for a while, my dear.  Come along."

"But I don't remember you."  She looked up at
Krycek, then Spencer, seeking confirmation.  At
their silence, she faced Spender again.  "I
respectfully decline, sir.  I'm in good hands at
the Ranch."

Spender leaned over to whisper something to the
guard.  The man walked forward slowly, keeping
his gun lowered.  When he reached Krycek, he
handed over Matthew's cure, taking hold of
Julia.

Immediately, she protested.  "But I don't want
to go!  Mr. Spencer!"  The guard pulled her with
him as Krycek retreated to Spencer's side.  More
black-garbed men approached from the
helicopters, six by Gabriel's count.  They took
up positions behind his father, slowly moving
in.

"Go on, Julia," Spencer said softly.  "It'll be
all right.  You won't be gone long."  The last
was said with pointed deliberation.

But her resistance became almost frantic and
Gabriel wanted to cry out to her to keep still,
all would be well.  "No!" she cried, squirming
in the guard's hold.  "No!"  Her eyes widened
and she took a different path, one that slammed
into Gabriel with a force that took his breath. 
"Gabriel!  Leave me!  Don't come any closer!"

She knew he was there.  Though she'd not been
told he was going to be in attendance, she knew
him well enough to know he wouldn't abandon her. 
If he hadn't been so worried about the recent
developments, he'd have smiled at her misguided
worry for him.  As it was, he saw an opening. 
All her cries faded as he forced himself to
ignore them for the moment - his father's men
had bypassed him.  Catlike, he threw his legs
over the wall, straightened his jacket, and
stepped up behind them, blending in with their
dark forms.

"Gabriel?" Spender asked, surprise at her shouts
making him tense.  "Who is this Gabriel?"

"None of your concern," Spencer said, waving at
the darkness beyond.  A dozen men emerged from
the shadows to flank him, their guns drawn and
ready.  Spender's men did the same and Gabriel
knew they were a moment away from a gun battle
of catastrophic proportions.  "You're
outnumbered.  Give the girl back to me.  Along
with the chip."

Gabriel's father smiled, an evil, distorted show
of teeth.  "I don't think so." He began to back
away, his men closing in as Julia was put into
his hands.  Gabriel flinched at the way his
father manhandled Julia, but he steeled himself,
spying an opening in the circle of men.

In an instant, he moved up, grabbing Julia from
his father's grasp.  But the old man, despite
his surprise and failing health, held on and she
was pulled between the two of them.  Stumbling,
she fell into Gabriel's arms with a huff of
breath and suddenly, the dam was no more.  They
tumbled over the side and he flailed, feeling
them hit the scaffolding below.  Eyes slamming
shut at the pain in his shoulder he held on to
her wrist, feeling their temporary haven give
way with a snap.

"Gabriel!" he heard her cry.  She didn't scream
or make any other sound of distress and he felt
a rope slide between the fingers of his free
hand.  The knife was gone; he was glad he'd
dropped it, otherwise he wouldn't be able to
grasp the lifeline that held them above the
water.

A small, hoarse chuckle broke through his panic. 
"Don't let go, son," came the breathy plea.

Gabriel looked up, grimacing at the weight that
threatened to bring them to a swift, deadly end. 
Above him, he heard the sharp echo of gunfire -
the battle had begun.  Too little, too late. 
Spencer and his men were too busy fighting off
the others to see to him and Julia.

"No!" Julia's frantic cry pricked his ears and
he jerked his chin down.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, trying in
vain to wrap the frail rope around his wrist. 
He felt his grip slipping on one end as he
tightened the hand around her on the other.  The
scaffolding dangled from two ropes, the rotting
boards now parallel to the wall of the dam. 
Julia swung with them below him; he opened his
mouth to tell her to keep still when he saw what
she fought against.

God damn his father.  The old man smiled as he
held on to Julia, his hand wrapped around her
ankle.  Would they ever be rid of him?  Gabriel
ignored the bastard's hysterical laughter and
spoke to Julia.  "Hang on," he croaked, "it's
all right.  We're gonna make it."  As soon as
they got some help, he amended silently.  Which
didn't look very likely in the near future.

Julia kicked at his father with her free foot,
almost sobbing with what Gabriel knew was anger
more than fear.  "Let go," she snarled over and
over.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, my dear,"
Spender said, bringing his other hand up.

The chip.  Gabriel's eyes widened at the little
bit of glass his father still had.  They could
get it from him; there was still hope.  "Give it
to her!" he demanded, hoping against hope there
was still one shred of decency left in that
hollow carcass of a man.

"Now why -" Spender twisted, the hand holding
the vial slapping at the wood, seeking purchase. 
"Why would I do that, Fox?"

The name made Julia jerk, her fingers clenching
around his arm.  God, no... would that set off
another seizure?  Not now.  "Don't call me
that!" he shouted, hoping his father heard him.

Thankfully, Spender didn't pursue the name
business.  Of course, Gabriel figured they were
all pretty busy just trying to hang on.  "Julia,
you okay?"

"I'm fine," she muttered.  "Just peachy."

He had to hand it to her - this tumble hadn't
made her hysterical.  But she had always been
cool under fire.  Nothing like him... he might
have put on a good show for Skinner years ago,
but his mouth was so dry now he couldn't even
summon up a bad 'Hangman' joke.

"Don't let go, boy."

Gabriel huffed at the command.  His father was
in no position to be demanding anything, despite
his hold on Julia.  From the movement he felt
below, she was doing her best to shake him off. 
That's it, Scully, he thought.  Kick him into
hell.

Above Gabriel, the rope twisted and he gulped as
he heard the snap of hemp.  They were fast
running out of time.  "You know you can't win!"
he cried out, just as he felt his shoulder give
way.  The gritty moan that came from his lips
wasn't missed by Julia, and her head snapped up.

"Gabriel."

Eyes glazed over with pain, he tried to focus on
her face.  Her hood had fallen back and tears
streaked her white cheeks, but she was calm, her
lips parted in a sad smile.

"Let go of me."

Hot fury laced through him.  "What? No! I'm not
letting you go, Julia." Almost choking with
pain, he gritted his teeth, wrapping his fingers
tighter around her wrist.  "No.  Hang on."

"There's no way we can get out of this," she
said brokenly, bringing her other hand up to
grab at his.  "Save yourself.  Let me go."

Spencer's other hand, the one with the vial,
finally found a home around Julia's free ankle. 
Gabriel felt the tug as he latched on, knowing
he couldn't hold on to them both much longer. 
Ignoring Julia's whispered pleas for him to
release her, he met his father's eyes.

"Don't do this," he begged.  "I can save her if
you let go.  Please don't do this to us."

"Without the chip?" His father wheezed below
Julia, his features seeming to collapse as his
body fought for breath.  "That's the only thing
that will save her, Fox."

"No! *You* can help me save her."  Swallowing
back the distaste at what he had to do he said
quietly, "Father."  Spender's head jerked up and
Gabriel continued, "Please."

One last time, his father smiled.  "You never
had the heart for it, son.  All the power in the
world could have been yours.  Instead, I give
you... her."

He let go, disappearing in a heartbeat into the
white water below.  Gabriel's lungs filled with
harsh, cold air at the realization that his
father had sacrificed himself to save Julia.  It
was amazing, it was unbelievable.  But he
allowed only a moment of disbelief to cloud his
mind before he grated out, "Julia... climb up...
grab on to me."

Without a word, she moved her hand to his belt. 
It was slow going and her shoes could find no
foothold on the slick boards.  He held his
breath as she released his wrist to quickly
snake her arm around his waist.  She mewled
softly as she worked, as if holding in her
fright.

"That's it.  You're almost there." He continued
to urge her on with small talk, words of
encouragement tumbling from his lips.

Gasping, she paused, her cheek pressing into his
sweater at his hip.  "Gabriel?"

"Yeah?  What is it?  What's the matter?"  The
trauma to her body can't have been good for the
baby, he knew.  Combined with the continued
melee they both could hear above, they were both
bound to be in shock.  Beneath his sweater, his
skin felt clammy and nausea rolled in his
stomach.  His body was losing strength fast.

"That man was your father?"

What to say?  To hell with lying, he thought. 
They were moments away from sure death and he
threw caution to the wind.  "Yeah.  Sort of." 
Biting his lip, he tried to pick up his useless
arm to help her climb, but it was no use.  "We
weren't close."

Julia snorted into his body and its warmth
tickled his ribs.  "I think I can safely assume
Father's Day wasn't big with you two."  She
stopped inching up to ask, "What did he want
with me?"

*That* was a biggie.  Gabriel began to shiver
under his coat; they were both soaked from the
spray whipping up below them.  "He..." Teeth
chattering, he tried again.  "He wanted our
baby."

"God," she whispered, shaking herself.  "I'm
glad he's gone."

"Me too, sweetheart," he replied, finally
feeling the mound of her belly settle against
his abdomen as she wrapped her fingers around
his neck.  His legs wrapped around her and he
smiled at the feel of her face in the curve of
his neck.  "Me too."

Before they had a chance to take a breather, the
rope that had been threatening to break did just
that, with a loud pop.  Julia's hands clawed at
his neck as they swung free, now held only by
the rope still attached to the scaffolding.  The
release of one of the tethers made them swing
like a pendulum and it was at the last second
that Gabriel pivoted, using his knee to absorb
the impact of their slam into the concrete wall.

"Shit," he muttered at the new pain, sure he'd
cracked his kneecap.  "Hold on, Julia." 
Lightly, they bounced and swayed until their
swinging petered out.  He gripped the one rope
even tighter, feeling warmth begin to bleed from
his fingers.

"Gabriel, we aren't going to make it, are we?"
she asked, raising her head to look into his
eyes with sadness.

"We are," he said, pressing a kiss to her
forehead.  "I want you to do something for me,
Julia."

She said nothing, just tilted her head, the
question in her eyes.

"Start climbing."

"No!"

"Yes," he insisted.  "It's not far to the top. 
You can use me for leverage."

Her eyes filled with tears.  "No.  I'm not
leaving you.  We go together."

"I'll be right behind you."  It was a lie and
she knew it.  His arm was useless and there was
no way he could climb that rope with only one
good arm.  "Please, Julia.  I can't hold on much
longer.  When you get to the top, find someone
to pull me up."

It was very likely she'd not find anyone left
alive once she scaled that wall.  But still,
she'd live.  Their child would live.

Softly, she began to cry.  "Gabriel, don't lie
to me... not anymore."  Burying her face in his
neck, she pressed a frantic kiss to his racing
pulse, as if by her touch he could be saved.

Knowing the truth would probably deter her from
leaving him - but unable to deny her this last
request - he rubbed his scratched cheek against
her hair.  "All right.  There won't be anyone
left up there to help, Julia."  It occurred to
him that he no longer heard the guns above.  In
fact, it was eerily silent, save for the sound
of the water below.  His voice grew louder, his
anger at the hopelessness of his situation
getting the better of him.  They'd been so close
- so fucking close to having it all.  Evven if
they somehow managed to make it up the rope to
safety, his father took the chip to hell with
him.  Choking back his sorrow, he pursued the
path he wanted her to follow.  "And you can't
lift me.  I figure I've got about another minute
before this flimsy thing breaks free... and damn
it, I won't have you die with me.  That truthful
enough for you?"

Despite what she'd just heard, she smiled
through her tears.  He felt her lips curl
against his skin.  "Yes, thank you.  Not what I
wanted to hear, but... thank you, Gabriel."

"Julia?"

"Yes?"

"Get going.  Now.  That's an order."

"Since when do you order me -" Her protest was
cut short by the lurch of their tenuous safety
net.  "Gabriel?"

He waited until they settled into relative calm
again before begging, "Julia.  Please go."  If
he said another word, he'd surely begin to cry. 
He didn't want her to witness any show of
weakness, especially since her trek to the top
of the dam would probably not be easy in itself.

A pair of cold lips pressed against his; he
wanted to return the kiss, but he was crippled
with numbness.  Everywhere... his arms, legs,
even his face felt nothing anymore.  He'd come
close to dying many times.  And though his heart
still beat strongly as he hung on this rope, he
knew his body was shutting down.  Blood flow was
hampered to his one good arm - the only thing
left between him and death.  He was getting
sluggish in body and mind.  The sleep of the
unconscious was fast gaining on him; exposure to
the cold and damp, combined with the injuries
he'd suffered, worked quickly to bring on a
sleep he'd never wake up from.

"Gabe!"

Already he was hallucinating...

"Gabe, can you hear me?"

"Gabriel." Julia tugged at him, her urgency
barely making him open his eyes.  "Gabriel, open
your eyes.  They're coming for us."

"Huh?" He tried to rouse himself, but it was
difficult.  Julia squirmed against him; he could
feel her reach up - was she climbing?  "Good,"
he slurred, "go... Julia."

"Gabe, it's Jesse - are you down there?"

Julia's shout hardly penetrated.  "Here!  We're
here!"  To Gabriel she said, "Wake up, Gabriel. 
Jesse's coming to get us."

"Can't hold on anymore."  All he wanted was to
let go.  If he could make his fingers move, he'd
do just that.

"You're not letting go... not now." He felt her
arm wrap around him, felt her hand cover his on
the rope.  "Hold on to me."  When his legs gave
up their hold on her she shouted in his ear,
"Gabriel!  Damn it, I can't - listen to me.  You
let go and leave me alone and I'm naming this
child Fox, you got it?  It's your real name,
isn't it?  Your father called you Fox."

She wouldn't.  God, he hated that name.  "No."
Had he given the protest voice?  Sleep.  He
wanted sleep.

"All this time I was sure it was an 'M' word...
and I liked the name Michael."

"Michael... it's Michael," he muttered.  He
wasn't cold anymore.  He was wrapped in her arms
in the tower, bantering about names and the
truth and a farm with lots of kids...

"No it isn't," she insisted.  "It's Fox.  You
hate it and I swear I'll use it if you aren't
around to stop me, damn it."

"Julia!  Give me your hand!"

Who was that?  They were close.  It was an angel
come to get him, he knew.

"Him first!"

His head lolled, then snapped up.  He wasn't
dead yet. "No!"

"We can't get to him unless you go first, Julia. 
Now c'mon, give me your hand."

Would she do it?  Stubborn as the day was long,
that was Scully.  "Scully... go on."

Firm, salt-laced lips touched his one last time. 
"Remember... Fox.  I'll do it, mark my words."

Gabriel nodded, closing his eyes as she was
lifted away.  The absence of her warmth let in a
shock of cold air, which hit him like a
sledgehammer.  A short cry was the last he heard
as his fingers slipped from the rope.


End Chapter Twenty-Seven