Trinity Blood Fan Fiction ❯ Godsend ❯ Chapter 1

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
by C. Ravenlocke

Abel was quiet as a ghost as he slipped into León's room in the AX wing of the Vatican. Unsurprisingly, the man was already there, showered and changed. Even less surprising was the glass of wine whirling idly between three of León's fingers. Abel knew without asking that the wine would be a Moroccan sangria, the blood-red liquid barely moving as the glass twirled back and forth slowly.

Pausing briefly, Abel let the door swing shut behind him. He wasn't entirely sure León was aware of him yet, the man's hazel eyes not straying from their contemplation of the glass and its contents. Rarely did Abel see the man so pensive after a mission, and that meant one thing.

“There were children involved.”

The sound of his own voice startled Abel almost as much as it did León; the priest hadn't actually meant to speak the words aloud. León's dark eyes swung over to him, and Abel was relieved to see that the man didn't seem at all upset to see his fellow priest. Abel felt an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck regardless, staining his cheeks. “I'm sorry,” he said quickly, “That was precisely what I was trying not to do.”

León gave a small shake of his head. “It's no big deal,” he said, “C'mon in, Junior.”

Abel crossed the room in a whisper of fabric, settling into a chair beside León's. “So,” he murmured. “Was I correct in my assumption?”

León gave a slow nod this time, his eyes turning away from Abel and settling on his glass again. “I hate missions that deal with kids,” he said softly. “You know that. Every time it happens, I...” his words died on his lips, and he made the catch look deliberate by taking a sip of the wine.

It didn't take much for Abel to fill in the blanks. “You think of Sana,” he murmured, reaching out and laying a cool hand on León's bare forearm.

It wasn't until that not-quite-chilled skin touched him that León realized that Abel wasn't wearing his gloves, and he turned his gaze to the other man again. At first glance, Abel seemed to be wearing his usual AX uniform, but a closer look revealed he was only clad in the the bare minimum of it, his long cloak, the heavy armored epaulets, and the heavy cross the priest usually wore missing. He'd even left his holster behind, and looked infinitely comfortable in his leather trews, a pair of lighter boots than he wore in the field, and his dark robe. Even it looked slightly disheveled, the first few hooks undone to leave the high neckline open slightly, exposing a v-shaped patch of pale skin. “Keep running around like that, and you'll scandalize someone,” León murmured, unable to help the faint grin that turned up the corners of his mouth.

Abel chuckled. “Oh, hardly that,” he said. “Just doing away with the...inconvenient bits of the uniform.”

He said the words blandly, but León's smile grew some when he realized that the “inconvenient bits” were the ones that gave him the most trouble removing. “Unusually thoughtful of you,” he said.

“I thought you might like some company,” Abel said softly, “And it's rather difficult to lend someone your shoulder when it's got a piece of metal overtop it, hm?”

León snorted softly. “You say that like you thought I needed help.” He started to lift his arm to shake Abel's hand off.

“Not need,” Abel corrected gently, squeezing León's arm lightly in a silent warning; he wasn't going to let the man shut him out. “But perhaps want.”

León was still for a moment, then lowered his arm again. “Can't really argue with that,” he said. “Don't always get to see you much after a mission.”

“No,” Abel agreed, smiling a bit as León relaxed back into his chair again. “They've usually shuttled you off again as soon as you've given your report to Lady Catarina.”

“So,” León said, looking over at Abel and setting aside his wineglass. “How'd you talk her into giving me some time here?”

Abel shook his head, chuckling. “You give me too much credit,” he said. “The truth is, your presence may be required again soon, and it's far less trouble to keep you here than to send you all the way back to the prison, just to drag you out again.”

“Well, you won't hear me bitching about it,” León replied, laying his hand over Abel's.

“I've missed you, too,” Abel admitted softly.

“So, how've you been holding up?” León asked, gripping the pale-haired man's hand and gently drawing him out of his chair, and closer to León's own.

“Well enough,” Abel answered, his tone only vaguely wary. “Why do you ask?”

León shook his head. “Just heard that you'd given she of the Holy Virgin Powers an eyeful you hadn't intended to.”

Abel winced a little at that, his pale eyes darting quickly away from León's face. León shook his head. “That's what I thought,” he said, and pulled Abel down into his lap, wrapping his arms around the pale-haired priest before Abel could find some excuse to slip away again. “Sounds like we could both use some company,” León went on.

“I'd rather not talk about it.”

“And I really don't want to talk about my last mission, either,” León said, touching Abel's jaw lightly and turning the pale-haired man's face toward his. “So, how about we find a safe subject for the both of us?”

Gratitude shown in Abel's eyes and he gave a small nod. “That...sounds like a very good idea.”


The sun was pale in the sky when Abel woke, cracking first one pale eye and then the other open. What sky he could make out through the small crack in the curtains told him that it was the twilight before dawn. He was hesitant to move, León's strong arms around him, the pale-haired priest's body spooned against the other man's. They had spent most, if not all, of the night thus, the two lying in bed and talking until just a short time earlier. In spite of their original decision to say nothing of their last missions, both had shed their tears, told their respective stories in hushed whispers, and then lay in silence, taking what comfort they could from one another's presence.

Abel knew he'd stayed for a dangerously long time, however, and it was that thought that led him to turn over in León's arms, nuzzling the man's jaw gently. As he pulled away, though, he saw León was no more asleep than he was now. “That time already?” León asked.

Abel nodded. “I'm afraid so,” he whispered.

“I don't really want to let you go.”

“I don't really want you to.” Abel leaned in, stealing a gentle, lingering kiss. “But it would not go well for us if we were caught together.” He rose from the bed, smoothing his sleep rumpled robes, and pausing for a moment, before smiling. “We'll see one another soon,” he promised.

In spite of the imminent farewell, León found himself smiling. “I'll look forward to it.”

And with no further words, only a momentary glance back as he reached León's door, Abel disappeared down the hallway, and back into the labyrinthine halls of the Vatican. León leaned back in bed again, pillowing his head on his arm and smiling a little. Although their visit had been brief, he had to say he felt better, and if Abel's behavior was any indication, he was, too.

That would hold him over until they saw each other again.