Neutral Omens

Gabriel blinked down at the cat as he wheeled the unconscious god into the private room and prepared to transfer him to the new bed. "Preferably not all at the same time," he said carefully, trying to find the nicest way he could to say that he didn't want to see the hospital turned into a zoo. Angels could, in theory, be relatively any size or shape they wished, but that didn't mean he was used to having animals in a workplace, even those which were not animals in their true form. "But I suppose that is what visiting hours are for..."

He addressed Anathema as well as he continued, "I'm not sure there's much more we can do for him until he wakes up. Even if we were prepared for chemotherapy right now, we can hardly start it on an unconscious patient. I'll see that he's hooked up to the monitors, and I think for now we just watch and see that there are no drastic changes in his condition. Would you like me to stay for the rest of your shift, or will you be all right?"

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After ransacking Loki's room (Christ, what a mess; books and playing cards scattered all over the place, and some of the empty booze bottles looked like they'd been piled there on the floor for months) John finally located Loki's medication in the bottom of a backpack lying near the couch. He came back to the hospital wing to find the exam room empty, and followed the sound of voices to the private room where Loki had been taken.

Walking into the room, he gave a sharp, short whistle to get Anathema's attention and tossed the bottle to her underhand. "Found that in his room. How's he doing?"

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... He was in a nice soft bed. Comfy. He could stay here for a while.

Wait a minute! Hadn't he just been talking to John? Something about Ezra and that murderous Crowley.

If he'd just been talking with John, how could he be in bed now? Had it been a dream? Loki opened his eyes. Where was he? Too many black spots in his vision again, but he was used to that by now. Better wait a little before he tried to sit up, though.

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Everything began happening at once. Before she could answer Gabriel's question about him staying on for the rest of her shift or not, a sharp whistle coming form the door had made her turn, just in time to see John throw her what looked like the medication that she had asked him to go find.

Before she could answer either of those two, Loki stirred on the bed and opened his eyes.

"Loki? I wouldn't sit up too fast. Do you know where you are?"

Blinking at the sudden rush of people to answer, she turned to Gabriel and smiled. "You can stay if you want Gabriel, I won't kick you out just because it is my shift."

She then looked down at the medication in her hand and frowned. "And yes John, I think this is right."

She hoped that the people in the room would be enough to convince Loki to go back on his medication.

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Huh? The voice was familiar, but who?

Ah yes, Anathema, the pretty one with the unusual name. Who the fuck was Gabriel, though?

John was still here? Good. Or maybe not. Could he still trust John? It hadn't been a good idea to trust a human in the fist place and nothing would really have changed between them just because Loki seemed to have blacked out.

He got the feeling that this place was all in all too crowded. Wherever this place was.

"Wh.. What happened?" It sounded a bit more intelligent than 'Where am I?, he thought. Or maybe it didn't, but now he'd already said it and couldn't take it back.

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"You went off your meds like a sodding moron, moron, and it caught up with you," John said gruffly, leaning in the doorway. "What the fuck'd you think would happen?"

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Gabriel shot John a less than friendly look. "Could we please refrain from insulting the patient for the time being?" he asked, clipped.

His tone was considerably more cordial, however, as he addressed the god. "Loki,you're in the hospital wing at Tadfield Manor. I'm Gabriel, and this is Anathema, and we're just trying to help you. Do you remember what happened?"

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"Damn pills weren't working anyway," Loki growled at John.

Gabriel's answer was a lot more helpful, though he wasn't sure how to answer his question. He wasn't even entirely sure which events he was referring to. What had happened before he'd ... well, fainted apparently? What had happened after that? Or how he'd got the cancer in the fist place?

Who was Gabriel anyway? He didn't remember ever seeing him around before which was alarming. Unless Gabriel was a very recent arrival it meant that Loki had either been very sloppy in his exploration of the manor or there was more than just one hole in his memory.

His mind was working slower than usual, but Gabriel definitely wasn't a human, nor any god Loki recognised ...

"Oh, not another not-god!"

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"Not-god?" Anathema asked, rather amused by the way that Loki had said it. It sounded like such a bad thing.

She shook her head slightly. "Can you tell us what you were doing, where you were going, before you collapsed? And there are different medicines you could have tried."

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"God that isn't allowed to call himself god," Loki explained.

"Library. Talked with John." He shot Ana a tired look that should have been a glare. "They didn't work either."

If his answers were a bit incoherent he didn't notice, though he did realise that his brain still wasn't back to it's normal speed. He was dizzy and tired and a little frightened even though he'd expected to die soon. It still seemed too early.

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"It's the sodding curse, it's gotta be," John muttered, a trifle sullenly. His bedside manner might need some work, but he was trying to help, dammit. Adam alone knew why he bothered. "Odds are we're gonna have to find a way to lift it before anything will really work."

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"Curse right," Loki agreed. "The curse that Czernobog himself couldn't lift."

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Anathema frowned at this. "Well maybe this curse needs to be lifted before anything will work. If the God that did this to you couldn't reverse it...well maybe a different way of breaking the curse is needed?"

How she didn't know, but she would like to give it a try, after all, someone she knew was dying right in front of her. "I'll help. You never know...maybe we can come up with something..."

She also didn't know who she could enlist to help her...maybe Uriel would? She was an angel after all...

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John rubbed at his forehead, frowning thoughtfully. "Don't suppose good ol' Czernobog mentioned what class of curse it was, or what he did to try to lift it? It'd save some time if we knew."

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Loki attempted to laugh. It didn't sound quite right.

"Czernobog had no idea what he'd done," he explained. "Was surprised it actually worked at all. And he wasn't the only one that tried. I've asked actual healing gods. It can't be lifted."

Definitely not by two humans no matter how cool John was.

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Gabriel arched a brow coolly; the powers of the mortal pantheons had always seemed so scattered and sporadic that he wasn't sure how thorough Loki's endeavor might have been, and he wouldn't be convinced until they'd at least made an effort with this curse themselves.

"Nevertheless, I think Constantine's right," he spoke up. The words hadn't tasted as foul as he thought they might, but he still quite intentionally didn't look at the man after he'd said them. "I think that will have to be our first course in treatment. After getting you back on your medication, of course," he added, nodding toward the pills in Anathema's hand.

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"And trust me, you will be taking them, mister," Anathema replied, smiling slightly. She wasn't lying either. If necesary she would ram the things down Loki's throat. What a silly thign to do just because nothign seemed to be working. That didn't necessarily mean they weren't at least keeping the disease at bay for a while.

She shook the bottle of pills and opened the lid. "So, think he should start taking them now?" She said the question to both John and Gabriel. And was it her imagination, or did those two not like each other very much?

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"They don't work and make me sick and dizzy," Loki complained pouting. "I really don't see what they're good for."

Of course he knew why he was supposed to take them. He had read about them, after all, and he wasn't stupid. He just didn't want to. He'd had enough of the fight. Couldn't those damn doctors ever leave one to die in peace?

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"And you don't feel sick and dizzy while off them either? Hmm, then explain your little fainting spell outside?" It was mean, she knew, but right now she didn't really care. no, he was going to take the pills. She got one out and held it threateningly in her hand "Your choice, fight or be a good boy."

She didn't realise that Loki could act so much like...like a child!

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"I do, but the pills make it worse instead of better," Loki pouted. "Not taking them." He turned his back to Anathema demonstratively.

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"So," Anathema said, turning round to face John and Gabriel, "Do you think I should forcefeed him the pill, or do you think one of you could convince him not to fight?"

She was hoping that John could convince him since the two of them were at least friendly with each other. But if not...those pills were going to be going down very much by force.

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John pushed away from the door frame and walked over to hunker down eyeball to eyeball with Loki.

"Have you ever actually watched someone die of cancer, Loki? I have." His eyes were bleak, belying his cold, hollow tone. "It's not peaceful. It's sure as hell not painless. I watched a good mate go screaming in a pool of blood and shit, and I watched myself waste away in the mirror while I choked up black bits of my own lungs. I hate fucking cancer, Loki, and I will be damned if I'm gonna let it take another friend away without a fight."

He straightened up and looked down on the god coolly. "'sides, way I see it, you owe Crowley twice now. You're bloody well gonna live to pay up. So quit your whinging and take your fucking medicine before the nice lady makes good on her threat."

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Gabriel nearly intervened, having little patience for such threats; if the other immortal was petulant enough not to cooperate in his own treatment, the archangel hadn't much reason to force it on him. However, there was a void quality to Constantine's voice as he addressed the illness that gave even Gabriel pause: a tone empty of all but the harshest of truths.

And he knew it was true, having witnessed the worst of Constantine's suffering himself. He didn't know if the man wondered why the angel would bother healing a pagan deity when he'd denied a mortal help all those years ago; but he felt the strain of guilt even when Constantine never spared a glance in his direction.

So Gabriel was quiet as Constantine spoke, arms crossed before him, eyes downcast, almost as though he stood in prayer. If the god could sense one fraction of the painful honesty in that voice that the angel could, he knew it would be intervention enough.

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