Page 129 of Gabriel

Machines beeped in a slow, mechanical rhythm. A low hum from the overhead lights buzzed in the background, blending with the hiss of oxygen and the shuffle of footsteps in the hallway outside.

I fucking hated being this helpless.

“Gabriel,” Raphael rasped finally. “How are you feeling,hermano?”

“Hello, darling.” Sailor’s voice was warm and teasing. The two of them couldn’t be more different—my brother all storm clouds and fire, Sailor a steady sea—but I’d never known two people more perfect for each other.

“You look like shit,” Raphael supplied.

I let out a gravelly chuckle.

“I missed you two,” I said, smiling even though it felt brittle. I couldn’t see them. That absence gnawed at me, made everything feel distant and wrong. “I’ve been worse, but don’t worry, I’ll get better fast.”

“You’re blind,” Raphael snapped.

“Well, fuck. Thanks for the reminder,” I muttered. “I was just starting to forget.”

“Boys,” Sailor scolded gently, brushing my hand affectionately. “That’s not something to joke about. You gave us quite the scare, Gabriel.”

“Sorry,” I said quietly, and meant it.

Raphael let out a grunt, his mood practically vibrating through the room. “The flight over here was hell.”

Sailor sighed beside me. “We were worried sick.”

I forced a smile.

“Don’t worry. My shoulder’s healing fine and…” I faltered, unsure what to say about my eyes. The ache behind them was a constant throb, a reminder of everything I’d lost. “I’ll manage.”

“I’ve already reached out to the top ophthalmologists in the world,” Sailor said, always a step ahead, always trying to make things better. “Let’s keep the faith.”

“Okay.” I heard movement in my periphery. “What’s happening right now? In the room, I mean?”

They paused.

“Raphael’s sitting by the window,” Sailor replied after a beat. “And I’m in the chair next to your bed.” Her hand covered mine again. “Right here.”

“Fuck,” I whispered, frustrated. “This sucks. Not even a year ago I was telling Nikola to hang in there when he got put in a wheelchair. And now look at me…” I tapped my chest. “I’m a goddamn hypocrite.”

“Fuck that,” Raphael growled. “You’re not a hypocrite. You’re handling this better than most of us would.”

“Yes, you are, darling,” Sailor agreed. “It would be concerning if you weren’t upset.”

I lifted my hand again, searching, and Sailor was already there, curling her fingers around mine. “Thanks for being here.”

“Of course,” she said. “We’re family. We stand together.”

“Speaking of family…” I hesitated, then said, “Anya?—”

“Don’t worry about Anya,” Sailor cut in. “We’re handling it.”

I stiffened. “So you know?”

“Oh yes,” Raphael grumbled. “And I swear to God, I’m going to see how well Jet Volkov—or whatever the fuck his last name is—flies when I throw him off a building.”

“Raphael!” Sailor sighed, exasperated. “Let’s not?—”

“Well,reina, someone has to fucking pay for the shit that’s happened.”