Over the next three days, Gabriel slowly regained his usual steadiness and vigor. Father Fredrick sent a small keg of hearty ale with a note swearing upon the rejuvenating benefits of the brew. Myka allowed it in small measures with healthy dollops of honey.

They turned away several well-wishers, calmly standing their ground when other Commanders tried to order them to give way.

"My Commander is in no condition for visits," Jacob intoned when Jeremiah pressed for entry. "I shall tell him you came by."

Furious, the other man moved to push past him. In a heartbeat, he was facing a forest of drawn swords. Jacob didn't move, but his dark gray eyes gleamed as a small smile lifted his lips.

"We will tell him you came by," Jacob said again. His tone did not change, and he did not flinch when Jeremiah growled in frustration.

"Jeremiah!" Myka called out. The Hunters behind Jacob parted like silk, and the Father stepped out into the hall, pushing him away from the door.

"How nice of you to come to see Gabriel. He's sleeping now," he went on with a short laugh. "He's sleeping all the time. Poor lad, he exhausted himself getting these fine young Hunters into shape. 'Tis quite admirable, isn't it?"

Jeremiah frowned as Myka threw an arm over his shoulders and steered him away from Gabriel's room.

"Father, I want to see him."

"Of course, you do, but what will you see? How sickly he looks! I'm telling you, there's no use," Myka rambled on. "I'll send word when he's up to having company. These boys just love him so much that they give no thought to guarding him. You understand, surely. Well, good day to you, Commander."

Left with an image of Myka's dazzling grin, Jeremiah found himself alone in the hall as Gabriel's door closed with a very final click.

On the fourth day, Gabriel sat on a lounger on the small balcony, basking in the sun. Jacob sat on the floor nearby, watching him closely while he lightly strummed a lute, plucking out soothing tunes on the taut strings. Gabriel kept dozing off, but no one bothered him, and that was the point. Myka flitted out whenever he woke and urged him to take sips of a meaty broth and Fredrick's ale.

He smiled at Jacob as he sipped from the bowl. "Not the most engaging of duties you have here, brother."

"Watching over you is the most engaging task I've had in some time."

Gabriel laughed. "Are you all working out at all?"

"Of course, we are, in the wee hours when you're sleeping deepest. Myka is putting us through our paces as well."

"Jay makes sure we work every day," Elliott told him, poking his head out the door. "He'll make a marvelous second, Gabe."

"Stop it!" Jacob hissed, blushing as red as his hair. "I'm not aiming for that. I just don't want to lose what he's taught us."

"And that," Elliott pointed out, "is exactly why you are the best choice for Second."

Jacob rolled his eyes as his Brother stepped back into the room.

"He's right, you know," Gabriel told him.

"I'm the youngest of us," Jacob protested.

"No, that would be me."

Jacob blushed again, and Gabriel chuckled.

Myka stepped out and offered the broth again. "Come, come, eat. You'll be sleeping again soon."

Gabriel accepted a few sips without protest, having learned his lesson in the beginning. When Myka was satisfied, he placed the bowl in Jacob's care and left them alone again.

"My fire," Jacob said after a moment, "is not white like yours. It's dark fire; black even."

"Does that disturb you?"

"It does. Myka tells me it's nothing to be concerned about. I worry, though, that it makes me the opposite of you."

Gabriel sat forward slowly, his light gray eyes resting on Jacob's darker ones. "I don't see why being opposites is worrisome."

"But...white is...good, isn't it?"

"Is it?"

"It's supposed to be."

"I suppose that's why it was chosen as our color," Gabriel sighed, sitting back again. "After what we've learned, though, I can't accept it at face value any longer."

"I asked Myka if he knew of anyone else having black fire. He said it wasn't something a single person could do, as he recalled. Same thing with you."

"How's that?"

"He said to create black or white fire, a group of them had to get together and pool their ability, their strength. He said they had to blend in a certain manner to produce it. Afterward, most were in much the same state as you."

"Perhaps my fire will no longer be white. I feel as though I spent every drop of whatever I had in me."

"Myka says it doesn't change," Jacob said quietly.

"Don't let the fallacy of One Truth color your ideals, Brother."

Jacob laughed at the mirth in his eyes; the cheeky advice seemed to be enough to ease his mind on the matter.

"You've changed, you know," Jacob told him.

"How?"

"Your hair is redder, and your skin is more golden than before."

Gabriel splayed his hands before him and studied the skin. He hadn't noticed a shimmering cast there. He pulled a few strands of his hair forward and looked hard at them. "Perhaps I overcooked myself in more ways than one," he murmured.

Jacob scoffed and put the bowl back in his hands. "Myka says it happens when one reaches a certain level of power. He said he expects it will happen to all of us eventually."

"Do you think the Fathers will notice?"

Jacob shook his head as Gabriel sipped from the bowl. "Jeremiah certainly will. He's been by every day trying to see you."

Gabriel handed the bowl back to him. "He was my closest Brother."

"Was?"

"Well, I can hardly claim that any longer, can I? He knows nothing of the Cainum and the Lilum. How would he take it?"

"Badly." There was no hesitation and no doubt in their minds when it came to Jeremiah's reaction to their discoveries.

"I cannot be as close to him as I am to all of you."

"I'm sorry," Jacob murmured after a moment of silence.

"You didn't create this knowledge," Gabriel smiled at him. "If anything, it was bound to happen. I am forever wondering."

"We weren't allowed to think much under Thomas," Jacob said, his mouth twisting into a bitter line. "The less we thought, the better he treated us. Not that he treated us well."

"I take it none of you were very fond of him."

"I hate him!" Jacob hissed, his eyes blazing. "I wish you'd left him to die."

"Hush, Jacob!" Gabriel admonished him. Dark flames crackled along the other man's fingertips. "You know I could never do such a thing."

"He tormented us," Jacob growled. "He used our deepest fears to shame us and abuse us. He's not worthy of your mercy or anyone else's."

"And who are we to judge this?" Gabriel challenged him. "It was only right to go back for him. As incompetent as he proved to be, leaving him to die would make me no better than he."

Jacob drew a slow breath and stared at his sizzling hands until the flames died. "He used our love against us," he said quietly.

"Your love?"

"For each other." Jacob met his eyes, defiance and fear warred in those leaden depths. "You should know since you're drawn to him. I don't know how Thomas figured us out; we were always careful, but he made a point of pulling people like us onto his team just so he could ridicule and torture us."

"I don't understand, Jacob."

The other man slid near enough to lay his head on Gabriel's knee.

"Kendall and me," he whispered. "Wyatt and Elliot. Richard and Paul, and others. We love each other. Somehow, Thomas learned of it, and he used it against us. He's a monster."

Comprehension dawned quickly, and Gabriel laid a gentle hand on his brother's head. "I can't judge any of you for following your hearts, Jay. Thank you for trusting me with this. I'll not allow Thomas or anyone else to harm you ever again."

"I know," Jacob sighed, pressing his cheek into his thigh. "That's why we love you. You stood up to him the way we all wished we could have. We swore we would take no more of his bullying after that night. He lost control of us, and then he lost us. We wept when we found out he was stripped."

Gabriel had no words for his brother, so he simply waited.

"We didn't believe it," Jacob went on, "until he wasn't there that morning. We were beside ourselves with joy. And then we met you."

Gabriel laughed at the dry tone. "That could have gone better."

"It couldn't have gone better if you planned it," Jacob said, sitting up and resting his chin on his knees. "We needed someone to be firm with us, but fair. We never had that. You treat us all the same. Tom favored some and openly despised others. You're exactly what we need."

"Now you're exaggerating."

"No," Jacob chuckled. "You're just too modest to understand how powerful an influence you are."

Gabriel arched a brow, but Jacob's impish smile only grew. He gave up and closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the sun sink into his skin.

Jacob watched him for a few minutes before he plucked another soft tune on his lute. He continued to be in awe of his new commander. For the first time since gaining his cloak, he was confident in himself. He knew he could handle himself in battle, and it was all because this man told him so.

He looked up when Elliott peered out the door again.

"Jeremiah is back," he said quietly.

"I'm sure Myka did not send for him," Jacob groused.

Gabriel blinked his eyes open and smiled. "Perhaps I should see him this time."

"He will notice the change," Jacob reminded him. "How do you explain it?"

"I cannot lie to him, so I will not try. Elliott, will you bring him?"

With a nod, the other Hunter disappeared. A moment later, he returned and stepped out onto the cramped balcony.

"Commander Jeremiah to see you, sir."

"Thank you, Elliott. Will you bring tea?"

Elliott saluted and edged by Jeremiah as he smiled at Gabriel. He blinked hard, then frowned.

"What happened to you?" he gasped.

"Good to see you too, Jeremiah," Gabriel quipped.

Jeremiah blinked again and shook his head. "No, of course, forgive me. I have been beside myself worrying about you. You just look so different."

Gabriel arched a brow. "I imagine I look like I've slept for almost a week."

Jeremiah tried to sit at the end of the lounger. Jacob, however, refused to give way. He strummed his lute and hummed quietly at Jeremiah's narrowed eyes. Thwarted, Jeremiah leaned on the balcony railing instead. "You look more. Your hair is redder than it was."

Gabriel shrugged. "I hadn't noticed. How goes it with you?"

"Alistair is taking to Second well. He's nothing like you, though. He seems afraid to speak up."

"He is still new to it. You must make it clear he is there to support you."

Jeremiah chuckled. "I've tried. He wants so badly to be as good as you, but he isn't."

"Perhaps you should disabuse him of that notion. There's no reason for him to be like me. He needs to be himself. You chose him for his own strengths, not mine."

Jeremiah nodded. "Of course. I have been speaking of your exploits. He was there for some of it, so I'm not sure if anything is sinking in."

"Please don't." Gabriel cringed in sympathy with Alistair. "I'd not want another to follow in my footsteps. Alistair must find his niche. It is yours to help him."

"Singing Gabriel's praises is destroying your Second's confidence," Jacob said softly. "How can you not see this?"

Jeremiah frowned at Jacob, but the other man held his eyes calmly, idly playing another tune.

Gabriel trailed his fingers through the other man's dark auburn hair. "Be kind, Jay. He is not accustomed to having to train a Second. He had me from the beginning."
"And that excuses him? What if he hadn't had you?"
"Hush, you judge too quickly. Quiet now."

Jacob subsided, laying his cheek on Gabriel's knee.

"May we speak privately?" Jeremiah asked tightly.
"We are speaking as privately as we may," Gabriel told him. "Father Myka will not allow me to be alone. He is concerned I may relapse."

Jeremiah pressed his lips together and cleared his throat. "You allow them quite a bit of leeway."
"Jacob is in the running to be Second. He has no less leeway than you gave me, or that you should give Alistair."
"Still, to speak so to a Commander- "
"It is exactly the independent mind needed in a Second. Jeremiah, did you come to visit or to judge my team? Either way, I've grown weary. Jacob, will you call Elliott?"

The other man leaned to the side and whistled sharply. In seconds, Elliott appeared.

"Sorry, the tea is taking so long. We were out, so Charles went up to Father Myka's tower to get more leaves."
"No matter, Commander Jeremiah is leaving," Jacob said.
"You overstep yourself, Hunter," Jeremiah snapped, blue eyes darkening.
"No, he doesn't," Gabriel sighed. "I told you, he is acting as Second. Jeremiah, I must rest if I am ever to return to duty. Elliott will see you out."
Jeremiah drew himself up as the other Hunter arched a brow. "You forget who your friends are, Gabriel."
"I am only learning the truth of friendship since these souls were given into my care. Please, do come again."

Without another word, Jeremiah brushed past Elliott. With a speaking look, he followed.

"You pushed too far," Gabriel said quietly.
"I am sensitive to mistreatment." Jacob wasn't defiant, but there was no remorse in him.
"It isn't mistreatment. He didn't think of it, no more."
"Therein lies the root of mistreatment," Jacob pointed out. "Not paying attention to how your actions or words affect another. You wouldn't do that to Alistair."
"Alistair is not my Second."
"He'd be better off if he were."

Gabriel could not counter Jacob's stark logic. "If I needed any further proof that you would make the best Second, I have it now."
Jacob blinked. "No, Elliott and Kendall are far less volatile."
"And they agree with me. Accept it, Jay. You are my Second."

***

Myka watched him carefully as Jacob helped him to bed. "From the thunderclouds in Jeremiah's face, I presume the visit was cut short."
"Jacob chastised Jeremiah on his treatment of his new Second," Gabriel said.
"And won the position for himself, I would think," Myka surmised.
"I wasn't trying to," Jacob objected, tucking the sheet around Gabriel's waist. "Isn't there supposed to be a vote or something?"
"All who accept Jacob as Second?" Gabriel called out.

All hands went up, and Jacob shook his head in disgust. "You're all bloody mad."
"As you will, Second," Kendall teased, blue eyes twinkling.

***

Disturbed, Jeremiah made his way to the chapel. Gabriel always came here when he had a problem to work out. He stood staring up at the enormous silver cross for a moment before kneeling at the altar. He drew a deep breath and tried to put his swirling thoughts in order.

Gabriel was changing since he gained Commander, and Thomas' team seemed obsessed with their desire to protect him.

Jeremiah frowned.

Why, he wondered, in so short a time had they become so protective, so utterly loyal to Gabriel that they defied other Commanders? Jacob's impertinence aside, not one of them seemed intimidated by his presence.

He knew he was one of the most respected, most desired Commanders. His team held an unblemished record, with not one Hunter lost in the Hunt. Very few Darklings escaped them once they set their sights upon them.

Alistair's appointment to Second seemed the best choice. Gabriel trained the Hunter himself, taking care to groom him and place him in positions of authority often enough to boost his status among the others. He was skilled at tracking, and Gabriel ensured that he was. It seemed that despite declining the position for so long, Gabriel displayed every trait desired in a Commander.

Jeremiah took stock and found himself falling short of Gabriel again. He pressed his lips together in frustration.

Jacob is right, damn him.

He was doing Alistair a disservice. Jeremiah needed to build his Second's confidence, seek his counsel, and trust him. He had to accept that Gabriel was a unique case, and he would never have another like him if he did nothing to make it so.

Jeremiah blinked at a rustle and glanced around. Father Daniel settled onto the end of a bench to his right and crossed his legs under the robes.

"Did you see him, at last?"
"Yes, Father."
"And?"
"He grew weary very quickly, but he is well on the way to recovery."

Jeremiah could not voice his misgivings, even though he knew that he should. Nothing should be kept from the Fathers, but he could not bring himself to tell Daniel everything. Gabriel would not speak until he took the time to study and understand. Even then, he kept his own counsel on several matters.

"How did he look?"
"His eyes were sharp and clear, but his skin and hair were darker."
Daniel laced his fingers together in his lap and contemplated the cross. "Would you say he has been Touched somehow?" he asked quietly.

"Good God no!" Jeremiah came to his feet, horrified. "Gabriel is and always has been the Purest of us, Father. He would end himself before he brought any Taint into Homestead."

Daniel nodded and considered him. "How, then, do you explain the changes you mention?"
"I cannot, Father, but Gabriel is not Tainted. I would have to see the proof myself, and even then, I would believe it only if he confirmed it."

Daniel shook his head. "Such loyalty to one who has shown you such small regard," he murmured.
Jeremiah frowned. "Gabriel is a focused and dedicated Hunter, Father. His concern is his team and training them to serve the Order, as it should be. I cannot expect to be a priority. Besides, he has been ill."
"Has he?" Daniel challenged him softly.
"Father Myka said so, and all of his team."
"You trust them?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Jeremiah couldn't fathom such a thing.
"Why would you? What do you know of them?"
"They are Hunters, Father," Jeremiah pointed out. "We are Brothers."
"And what do you know of Myka?" Daniel's eyes grew fierce.

"He helped me find Gabriel. He is tending to my Brother through his illness. He stood by Gabriel's side during Questioning and spared him a flogging and possible expulsion. What more do I need to know, Father?"

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "He is not like the rest of us."
"Thank God," Jeremiah breathed, "or else I may never have found Gabriel and Thomas and brought them home to recover from that ill-fated Hunt."
Daniel sighed and shook his head again. "You cannot see beyond your loyalty to Gabriel."
"What is there to see, Father? Gabriel is not a duplicitous soul. I know him better than anyone."
"Perhaps," Daniel murmured, rising, "the changes are not just physical. Perhaps he has changed in other ways. What about the team?"

"They are utterly loyal to Gabriel."
"Not the Order?"
"Gabriel is their keystone. Without him, I do not believe many of them would continue. But that," he added as Daniel's eyes gleamed, "is perhaps the result of shoddy treatment and poor training under their former Commander."

Daniel blinked, and the light in his eyes died. He paced away from Jeremiah. "You believe Thomas is incompetent."

"No Commander worth the Cloak would ignore the counsel of a Hunter of Gabriel's caliber, let alone a Second," Jeremiah answered softly. "Every one of us knows that. He is never wrong about the Darklings, and he has saved my life and every life on my team and many lives on other teams more times than any of us can count. He is the best we have ever had, and Thomas hates him for it."

"And do you?"
"I love Gabriel, and I strive to pattern myself after him," he replied without hesitation. "Even as a Second, he set a standard few of us will ever achieve."
"I see," Daniel sighed again and nodded. "I cannot thank you enough, Commander. Go with God."

Jeremiah drew a deep breath as Daniel left the chapel. He had no idea what the Father would do with the information, but he was glad he had kept his deepest thoughts to himself.

Daniel was no friend to Gabriel, and Jeremiah held that knowledge close. He would watch and listen, he decided, so he could aid his brother if needed.

The thought that he was considering moving against a Father of the Order never occurred to him.

Gabriel was his Brother.

Nothing else mattered.