Gabriel
Chapter Nine


The Rocky Mountains
September 19, 2001
7:25 a.m.


Emotion made him tremble, the combination of
shock and sadness drawing the breath from his
lungs in a burst of fire.  It couldn't be true,
it just couldn't.  He rubbed his hot cheek
against her cold, soft skin and willed her to
open her eyes.  Wake up and tell him it was his
baby.  Tell him that when they'd made love that
one last time, they'd created a miracle.

But he knew that was impossible.  She couldn't
conceive, not by natural means.  The chip his
father had assumed was still in her had been
replaced by another - totally different, or so
Krycek claimed.  That left only one possibility
and it slammed into him again, this time with
the force of a fist to his gut.

It all made sense.  Horrifying, anguished sense.

"What did you do to her?"

The yell took Gabriel by surprise, as did the
hands that yanked Julia away from his hold.  He
fell back, curling up as raw pain shot into his
shoulder.  Nothing, he wanted to scream - I
didn't do a God damned thing.  Not now and
certainly not then.

The pain slowly subsided, only to be replaced by
a dull ache in his arms and chest; he wanted to
howl at their sudden emptiness.  He rolled to a
sitting position, gasping and frantically
looking about the room.  Matthew was leaning
over the bed, crooning to the listless form.

"It's okay, Miss Julia," he was saying, his
voice trembling with fright.  His big fingers
fumbled with the buttons of her cloak, as if he
thought she was suffocating.  "I'm here now. 
Come on, wake up."

Gabriel slowly made his way to his feet,
grabbing one of the kitchen chairs for leverage
and ultimately, support.  The pregnancy took a
back seat to concern for her and he shuffled
forward, only to be stopped by Matthew's hissed, 
"Stay back."

At the moment, it was best to comply.  His
senses still reeling from the revelations of the
last few minutes, he sank into the rocker and
hung his head.  What the hell had just happened? 
Just when it seemed they were making progress,
she'd been felled by some sort of seizure,
almost epileptic in nature.  Had she been
injured before they'd found her?  Or was it a
result of their conversation?  God, he hoped the
child was okay, no matter what its origin.

Matthew whipped his head in Gabriel's direction.
"She asked you, didn't she?"

Nodding, Gabriel began to stand, then stopped at
Matthew's growl.

"She knows better than that - it happens every
time."  He turned back to Julia, taking her hand
in his.  "The doctor warned her against trying
to remember too soon.  She gets these... fits. 
Used to be really bad and she'd stop breathing."

A surge of anxiety pierced Gabriel.  She hadn't
stopped breathing, he was sure of it.  But it
had been very frightening just the same.  It
also wasn't symptomatic of amnesia; he'd had
experience with amnesiacs - he couldn't ever
recall one reacting with such physical trauma
when they tried to regain memories.

Of course, Julia's wasn't a normal case of
amnesia, he'd bet his life on it.  The last few
minutes flashed through his mind; her pressuring
him for an answer, his almost-concession, her
seizure - his comparison of her to Max... her -
God, he couldn't even *think* it.  Like a tape
recorder, he backed up his thoughts and fixated
on one glaring detail.

Shit.  Max said he hadn't developed epilepsy
until after his first abduction experience. 
Another case came to mind immediately - Peggy
O'Dell and her sudden fit as they confronted her
beside Billy Miles' bed so long ago in Oregon. 
He recalled others here and there, all abduction
victims, all burdened with implants.  Was it
possible?  Was the implant programmed to trigger
a seizure if too many memories threatened to
surface?  That had to be it.

But Krycek had said the implant couldn't be used
against her.  Not for calling her, anyway.  But
what if it's basic purpose was still there; a
monitoring device with the capability to
suppress memory?  Or worse - what if Cancerman
had tampered with it while she was in the Tower?

Charles Spencer.  Grandpa.

Jesus.  Gabriel's riotous thoughts began to gel,
the conclusion he'd made moments ago now
inescapable.  If his father *had* done something
to it, then it was highly likely she'd been
summoned from the bunker via the chip.  Very
possible that it wiped her memory.

Even his father's claim of restoring her
fertility was not outside the realm of
possibility.  His breathing quickened at the
thought... maybe it was his baby after all.  He
allowed himself a moment of hope, then squashed
it with logic.  No.  It was foolish to think
that their one last time together had produced a
baby.

"It's not good for her, the doctor said so.  And
you've got to promise me you won't let her get
like this again, Gabriel... or I'm going to have
to take you away," Matthew went on, though
Gabriel listened with half an ear.

"You'll do no such thing."

*That* he heard.

Matthew turned back to Julia and Gabriel melted
into the rocker at the sound of her beloved
voice, unsure if he should let himself be seen
by her again.  He didn't even know if he could
look at her without losing control.

Someone had done this to her.  Matthew's
grandfather, Charles Spencer - whatever the hell
his name was, he was still the same evil man. 
Stolen her mind, given her a child of dubious
origin, and worst of all - rendered her unable
to grasp at her memories.  He wanted to break
something; to shatter furniture to match his
splintered heart.

"Miss?  Thank goodness you're okay."  Matthew's
voice held a broad smile.  "Can I get you
something?  Some water?"

"Yes, please," came the weary answer, followed
by a small sigh.  "Something's burning,
Matthew."

"Oh, no."  He rushed to the stove and removed
the pan of eggs, stifling the smoke under the
faucet.

Gabriel sat still and kept his eyes averted from
the bed as the boy cleaned up.  He could feel
her stare, but he refused to look her way,
unwilling to take the chance of sending her into
oblivion once again.

As Matthew busied himself at the sink, Gabriel's
mind rushed to think of a plan of action. 
Should he leave?  Try to hide out in the forest
until Frohike and the others arrived - *if*
Jesse had even contacted them.  No.  Now that
he'd seen her, *touched* her, he couldn't walk
away.  They'd have to drag him, kicking and
screaming.

Telling her who he really was - who she was to
him - was out of the question.  Well, maybe not. 
Not if he could figure out a way to negate the
effects of the chip.  Hypnosis?  Medication,
smuggled to him through Matthew?  She'd spoken
of a doctor; with the isolation of the Ranch, it
sounded like he was in attendance, or able to be
rushed in at a moment's notice.  Maybe after a
few days, he could sneak up there and have a
look.  Get Matthew to take him in so he could do
a bit of snooping around, maybe find some
medication.  Suppress the seizures and then
reveal the truth... but would the drugs hurt her
child?  Damn, he wished he knew more about the
physiological sometimes.  But that was always
*her* forte, not his.

He was just going to have to think of something
and fast.  No way was he going to take the
chance of another seizure; even if it meant he'd
have to wait for reinforcements in the cold,
dark forest.  Avoid her, that was the only
recourse he had at the moment.  Keep himself
from her, though being apart from her would be
ten times worse now than it had been months ago. 
Especially if Charles Spencer was who Gabriel
suspected he was.

He shouldn't have broached the subject of 'the
truth' at the table; it had set her off.  Too
much, too soon.  He wanted to kick himself  
he'd always charged ahead like a bull in a china
shop.  Thank goodness she was okay, or he'd
never forgive himself this time.

"It's not your fault."

Her soft voice broke into his stream of thought
and he sighed, hanging his head.

"It just happens when I push too hard.  It
hasn't happened in a couple of months, though. 
I thought maybe they'd gone... maybe I was ready
to remember."

Gabriel clutched the arm of the rocker, sitting
rigid and immovable, even by the small plea for
understanding in her voice.

"I can see it upset you and I'm sorry.  I won't
do it again, I promise."

"Miss, I'm going to the Ranch for the ATV, so I
can take you home," Matthew said, coming back to
the bed to hand her the glass of water.

"I can walk back, Matthew."

"No, you can't," he ordered, then flustered at
what Gabriel figured was a scathing stare.  "Or
you shouldn't, anyway.  Won't take me but ten
minutes to run there and a few more to drive
back."

"I'm not seeing the doctor."  She was adamant
and Gabriel could picture the steel blue of her
eyes in his mind.  It almost made him smile. 
Almost.

"You don't have to," he pleaded.  "I won't tell
anyone about this - I know better than that." 
He flashed Gabriel a look, as if he blamed the
whole incident on him still.  Turning back to
her, he said, "You just leave him alone while
I'm gone.  If it happens again, I *am* telling
the doctor."  He stalked out, muttering to
himself all the way to the edge of the porch,
where he took off in a run.

Gabriel still didn't trust himself to look at
her.  She said nothing for a few moments, but he
could hear her shift in the bed - was she trying
to stand?  He wasn't in the best shape himself
and the tumble he'd taken with her had seriously
drained his strength.  But that was nothing
compared to the emotional wallop her pregnancy
brought on.  Despite his feeling as though the
simple act of breathing was a trial, alarm swept
over him and he snapped his head in her
direction, ready to call upon his last burst of
energy if need be.  No way could he sit still
and let her fall again.

She smiled as she completed the roll to her
side, her cheek flattening against the pillow. 
"Made you look."

If he wasn't still so angry at himself, he would
grin in return; she knew exactly how he'd react
to her mock attempt to rise from the bed.  She
faced him, her cloak billowing out around her,
one nail caught between her teeth in dubious
apology.  A memory of her, naked and flushed as
she'd lain beside him in their bed, assaulted
him and he gulped, willing his eyes to look
away.  But they wouldn't obey and he drank in
the sight like the finest hot chocolate.  It
warmed him and he tamped his grin down at the
last second.

"I saw that," she murmured.  "You can't fool me,
Gabriel.  You like me."

Rolling his eyes, he sighed. *That* was the
understatement of the year.  It was his 'like'
for her that had contributed to the mess this
morning.  He'd have to learn to control that
pesky feeling - or at least not give her any
more seizure-inducing ideas.

"Not in *that* way," she continued, her face
pinkening with embarrassment at her mistaken
implication.  "I just... I'm glad you're here. 
I miss having someone to talk to."

His brow creased; did she not have any friends
at the Ranch?  She had Matthew; though he could
see that the relationship there was distant,
probably due to the big age difference.  The boy
didn't completely understand all that was going
on with her and, instead of trying to figure it
out, he withdrew into protector mode, his raging
hormones having him convinced only he qualified
for the job.

"Matthew is more of my cohort in amnesia than my
friend," she said.  "He doesn't remember and
he's perfectly happy not doing so.  That I
insist on knowing about my past scares him - I
think *I* scare him."  

Hell, she'd always scared *him*.  The one person
in the world who made him succeed in spite of
his own low expectations.  It was scary how this
one bundle of logic and love had wormed her way
under his skin and proven herself to be the
ultimate goal, no matter what they used to throw
in his path as temptation.

Diana, the suspicious clone of his sister, the
answers to every question he'd ever asked - none
of it was enough to sway him from her side.  And
they'd done it again, tried to tear him from her
forever.  But once again, he'd managed to resume
his orbit around her brilliance.  Okay, so it
was more of a 'her gravity had pulled him in'
kind of thing.  No wonder she scared him
sometimes; not even Diana had exercised such a
hold on him before.

Scary?  Yes.  Did he care?  No.  Hell, she'd
shot him - *again* - and here he was, back for
more.

"Do I scare you, Gabriel?"

And she thought she wasn't psychic.

He shook his head, though he knew it was a
pitiful lie.

"I scare the people at the Ranch, you know. 
They avoid me all the time.  Only the doctor has
anything to do with me, and then it's only to
give me checkups."  She yawned and added, "Maybe
it's because of the seizures - people are always
scared of what they don't understand."

He watched as her lids drooped to half-mast. 
The seizure had made her sleepy.  He knew he
really shouldn't press her, but he had to know
one more thing.  Now, as her body relaxed, he
thought maybe it was ready for a simple
question.  Too tired to seize again, he hoped.

<Seizures - medication?>

"It's not epilepsy.  I just have to control
myself," she murmured, her eyes closing as she
settled deeper into the bed.  "Besides, it's not
an option.  Bad for the baby, so the doctor
tells me."

His heart literally stopped for a moment as the
pregnancy once again came to the fore.  Much as
he wanted to dismiss it like a bad dream, it was
there between them.  Even if he could help her
regain who she once was, it would *still* be
there.  Growing every day, rounding her figure
and mocking him with evidence that she could be
gotten to at any time, by anyone.

On shaky legs, he forced himself to stand.  He
let his gaze run over her, but the voluminous
cloak was effective in hiding her body from his
greedy scan of her form.  She laid on her side
still, one hand tucked under her pillow, the
other limp as it peeked out from the folds of
black velvet at her hip.

He had to see, had to touch, to explore, before
Matthew returned.  It might be the last chance
he'd ever have to touch her.  Slowly, he crept
forward, stopping to crouch beside the bed with
a sigh of pain at his stretching muscles.  She
slept on, oblivious to his hand undoing the
remaining buttons of her cloak.  When he'd
gotten the last one free, he gently lifted her
hand from her hip, wincing at the sight of the
bruises around her wrist.  He'd put them there
night before last, as he remembered grabbing her
in an effort to make her stay.  He brought her
wrist to his lips before laying her arm along
the curve of her body.

He held his breath as he parted the cloak; it
was heavy and all it wanted to do was fall over
her again.  But he finally succeeded in pushing
enough of the material away; his eyes took in
the beige linen that was embroidered with vines
and flowers leading from the bodice to the
unmistakable swell of her belly.

God, it was true; no use thinking it was all a
bad dream.  Maybe four or five months along; he
gently laid his hand on the crisp material,
careful not to wake her.  A slight flutter
beneath his palm made him exhale in an amazed
huff.

It all made sense - the doctors not wanting to
medicate her, their insistence she take it easy
and not force her memory to return.  The
seizures can't have been good for the baby; the
chance of fetal hypoxia during such an event was
a grim reality.

Damn, she wasn't even supposed to be able to
conceive!  Despite his father's machinations,
Gabriel knew she wasn't pregnant when she left
the bunker for the last time.  And they'd only
made love that one time since her last period. 
Was it his?  Not likely.  In fact, it was highly
likely that even she didn't know who the father
was.  If there was even a father to this child. 
She'd been experimented on again - there was the
possibility the child she carried was not even
hers.  Not even human.

Tears welled up at the cruelty of it all.  He
brushed the roundness of her stomach and for
once, was glad she couldn't remember.  He was
certain this wasn't a normal conception, and he
wanted to keep that fact from her for as long as
possible.

It occurred to him that this meant he'd have to
keep everything from her.  Their past, his
identity, her identity - the memories were
bringing on the seizures.  Medication was out of
the question, and even more so, the removal of
the chip.  No way was he putting her or her baby
in jeopardy, not for his selfish desire to have
her back with him.

But neither was he leaving her alone in this
place.  Frohike and the others would come for
him, even if he had to find a way to a computer
himself to let them know he'd found her.  And
when they came?  As content as she looked living
in the wilds of Colorado, something about her
spoke of restlessness; he knew if he got her to
trust him enough, she'd go with him, no matter
who he was.  The desire to live without
constraints was still within her - he just had
to make her comfortable enough with him to put
herself in his hands.

A mechanical rumble from outside made him pull
his hand away from her and stand.  He didn't
want Matthew to see him so close to her, not
right now, anyway.  It would take the boy a
while to get over this morning's scare.  As he
got to his feet, he leaned over and put his lips
to her cheek.  She sighed but didn't awaken,
rolling over just a bit to her back.

Gabriel backed away, staring at her burgeoning
waistline.  He'd find his answers - just not at
her expense.  Never at her expense.

He walked back to the kitchen table; the crunch
of paper beneath his feet made him pause. 
Slowly, he bent to retrieve the crumpled sketch
just before Matthew walked in, tucking it into
his sling.  The young man flashed him a wary
look and moved to her side, laying his hand atop
hers to give it a small shake.  "Miss?  I'm back
- are you ready?"

"Mmm... sleepy.  Leave me alone," she mumbled.

"It's okay, Miss.  You can sleep.  Just let me
get you home."  Gently, he slid his arms under
her and lifted with no effort at all.  She said
nothing, just sighed in her sleep as her head
lolled against Matthew's shoulder.

Gabriel clenched his hand into a fist and
lowered his head.  Helpless, that's what he was. 
It should be him doing all this for her; him who
was responsible for her protection.

"You can stay a few more days, then I think it's
best you go," Matthew hissed. "I don't care
where, just leave."

With a purse of his lips, he shouldered his way
through the door and down the steps.  Without
missing a beat, he climbed onto the four-wheel
vehicle with her in his arms.  Cradling her in
one arm, he steered them away from the cabin,
only looking back to give Gabriel a stern look.

Do what I say, that look said.  Go away.

Gabriel stepped out onto the porch and watched
until they disappeared into the trees.  He
pulled the sketch from its hiding place and took
a deep breath, looking at its stark lines of
pain, love and loss, his decision made.

Too bad, Matthew, he thought.  I'm not going
anywhere.  Not without her.



End Chapter Nine