threaded in an outfit of comfort, while still maintaining decorum, gabriel lounges in his study with a book. he'd dismissed the staff to their own devices hours ago, so when a knock comes unexpectedly, he's momentarily taken aback. it lasts a brief second, gabriel down his book and on his best expression.
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when he swings the door open this time revealing not just his child, but a third, much younger one, his brow furrows.
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"jessica." clipped, plain, and to the point. "what brings you here?"

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for a moment he stares at the trembling form of his daughter and the kid in her hands. something had obviously happened - something large enough to bring her here, especially.
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after a moment he decides, turning in invitation, the halls of Black manor awaiting her return once more.

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gabe followed wordlessly, the wooden floor beneath creaking from their combined weight. when she settles on the couch, he moves to the lazyboy. he listens as she speaks, silent and unwavering, expression unreadable.
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he tables the story about the baby for later — precedence of events, after all. while he didn't know NIKO MANNER, nor really care for him, his death seemed to affect his daughter greatly.
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gabriel is silent for a moment that seems to stretch, though no more than a few seconds could have passed. when he finally does speak, it's softer than his usual, commanding baritone.
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"i'm sorry, jessica."

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an important lesson he'd worked hard to impart, whether by action, or inaction, was the ability for his children to think ahead. they had been adults, before they had any right to be, admittedly. but that wasn't something that could change now.
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"you do." he could fall into the roll of a doting father; to offer a shoulder to cry on. but he hadn't been that man in a long, long time. even if she needed that part of him, something more logical rises to the surface. "you've waded your way through the world, ready or not, since you were a girl. now is no different. you need to find the path forward and keep walking."

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gabriels expression is a mask as she raises her voice, each word laced with an anger and grief unparreled to any feeling she's had before.
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he watches her go through the stages, one by one, before slumping into her seat. this would likely continue for several more weeks, maybe months, and was the first in a long line of emotional outbursts yet to come.
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finally, he speaks.
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"i am too hard on you all." gabriel admits, his face unchanging. "i push you all to be your best, at the expense of all else, because i am confident you can take it."
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he takes a deep breath, one that has his chest shaking like a mountain in an earthquake.
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"it has grown you children into strong, and capable men and women, ready to face a world that - as you are now finding - is far, far from ideal."
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he pushes himself to his feet, walking calmly over to his daughter. with both hands, he reaches down and takes the child.
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"you're tired, distraught and look like you haven't eaten in days." his hands looked massive holding such a small child, but the grace and ease to which he does so, is perhaps surprising to @jessica.
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"go eat, then head to bed. we will discuss this further in the morning."

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