cruiscin_lan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cruiscin_lan) wrote2008-11-26 09:05 am
cruiscin_lan) wrote2008-11-26 09:05 am
FIC: Angel with a Broken Watch, Chapter 4
Title: Angel with a Broken Watch, Chapter 4
Characters/Pairings: Elle/Gabriel, The Haitian
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or any of its characters
Word count: 1049
Spoiler alert: definite spoilers for episode 3x08, AU after that
Summary: It's in her best interest that she doesn't remember any of this...
A/N: Last update before Thanksgiving, guys. Have a safe and happy holiday.
Angel with a Broken Watch
When Elle found a job at a diner on Queens Boulevard, Gabriel made it a point to stop by everyday, asking to sit in her section. If he was there before lunch he'd get waffles; if not then he'd get peach pie for dessert.
"Your boyfriend is here," the hostess would tell Elle as she ran back and forth between the booths and the kitchen, trying not to screw anything up or get distracted.
Boyfriend?
At that point Elle could safely say they were roommates, but that was the only label she could use with certainty. She had gotten an air mattress and insisted he take his bed back, for one thing, but Gabriel still made her feel completely welcome. Were they roommates who often went out together? Roommates who perhaps showed a little more affection than most?
"Elle, do you have a minute?" he asked as she brought him a menu. "I'd like to ask you something."
"Specials today are the deluxe Reuben sandwich and the meatloaf platter."
"That's not what I was going to ask. I'd like you to meet my mother."
Slack-jawed, Elle cast her eyes down in uncertainty. She thought of her own father, who would most certainly be disappointed in the way her life was turning out. She wondered if he missed her. She wondered if he cared. "I don't know, Gabriel..."
"I've already told her all about you."
Elle didn't know how to say no, so she said yes instead.
But the meeting with Mrs. Gray did not go as well as Gabriel clearly thought it would; it was less a "meet the folks" dinner as it was a "she's not good enough for you, Gabriel, and this is my opportunity to point out to you all of her flaws" dinner. While Elle marveled at all the tchotchkes in the living room, she overheard Mrs. Gray list to her son all the reasons she was wrong for him.
"You don't know anything about her, Gabriel. She could be trouble. What kind of girl moves in with a guy she's barely just met?"
"She's helped me out so much more than you would understand, Mother," Gabriel replied.
"You're special, Gabriel," Virginia said, cradling her son's face in her hands. "You deserve better."
Better. It was a word Elle had grown used to hearing, but for some reason it still managed to sting every time. Elle had been exhausted by the effort of keeping up appearances at dinner. She'd smiled as she lied about herself and her background, trying her best not to slip up. She'd cheerfully submitted to each of Mrs. Gray's probing questions. But she could have done better.
They walked back to 1146 Trenton Place, apartment 1B, in silence. "She liked you," Gabriel finally said to her as he let her in ahead of him.
"Not for you, she didn't," Elle snapped back. "But really, who could blame her? I'm a total screw-up in every way."
"You're not a screw-up at all," he replied. "You're a good person in rough circumstances."
"Your mother didn't see it that way."
"My mother has no idea what I've done," his voice hitched as he blushed with guilt and shame. "And she has no idea what you've done for me. Elle, you're the only reason I'm still alive..."
"Don't," Elle whispered as he wrapped his hands around the back of her neck. "I'm not in the mood."
He ignored her and pulled her towards him, kissing her forcefully. She nearly fell backwards from its intensity. "You convinced the that I was special, Elle," Gabriel whispered, placing his forehead on hers, their breaths mingling. "How can I convince you that you are, too?"
"But I'm not," Elle protested, thinking of her father and her old life and how she was never good enough in that one, either.
"But you are," Gabriel repeated, and suddenly the buttons on Elle's blouse began undoing themselves on their own.
Elle lifted her head, meeting Gabriel's gaze. "Really?" she asked, her voice sincere and shaky.
"Let me show you," Gabriel replied.
... he pulled his hand away. Elle's skin had been cold and clammy under his touch, and yet his palms were sweating. That was too much... too personal... too... emotional...
He looked away from Elle, trying to regain a sense of mental balance. He felt as though he'd been gone inside her mind for days, when in reality moments had barely passed. The infant was being cleaned by the nurse, while Dr. Zimmerman checked and double-checked the monitors.
The Haitian had two choices. He could go back and erase the memory, witnessing the intimacy of Elle and Gabriel, intruding on a private moment in the past. It made him sick to think about it - both the idea Elle and Gabriel together in that way, and the thought of having to watch it all unfold in his mind.
And so he went with his second option - he left it alone, a half-erased memory of a beautiful moment. He didn't know what the repercussions would be, erasing all the love and leaving in the sex, but he didn't care. He couldn't watch it. He couldn't bear to.
And so, when he delicately placed his hand back on her forehead, he moved onwards to another time, another memory...
Somehow they both managed to not only fit on Gabriel's twin-sized bed, but they also got a good night's sleep.
"Guess it's true what they say about exercise before bed," Elle teased. She lay curled against him, her back to his chest, his arms wrapped around her. As the gray light emanated in though the kitchen windows, she played with his hands, so much bigger than hers, tracing the lines of his palms and wondering what was written there.
"I meant what I said last night," Gabriel said, his voice low and soothing. "I meant every word. Elle, you're special, really special, to me at least. I think I love you."
Elle dropped his hands suddenly and drew her own arms into her chest. That hadn't been part of the plan, this hadn't been part of the plan... All she had wanted to do was save his soul, like the angel he thought her to be, when in reality she was more broken than anyone else.
"I think I love you to," she said back, meekly, because she didn't know what else to say.
Characters/Pairings: Elle/Gabriel, The Haitian
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or any of its characters
Word count: 1049
Spoiler alert: definite spoilers for episode 3x08, AU after that
Summary: It's in her best interest that she doesn't remember any of this...
A/N: Last update before Thanksgiving, guys. Have a safe and happy holiday.
Angel with a Broken Watch
When Elle found a job at a diner on Queens Boulevard, Gabriel made it a point to stop by everyday, asking to sit in her section. If he was there before lunch he'd get waffles; if not then he'd get peach pie for dessert.
"Your boyfriend is here," the hostess would tell Elle as she ran back and forth between the booths and the kitchen, trying not to screw anything up or get distracted.
Boyfriend?
At that point Elle could safely say they were roommates, but that was the only label she could use with certainty. She had gotten an air mattress and insisted he take his bed back, for one thing, but Gabriel still made her feel completely welcome. Were they roommates who often went out together? Roommates who perhaps showed a little more affection than most?
"Elle, do you have a minute?" he asked as she brought him a menu. "I'd like to ask you something."
"Specials today are the deluxe Reuben sandwich and the meatloaf platter."
"That's not what I was going to ask. I'd like you to meet my mother."
Slack-jawed, Elle cast her eyes down in uncertainty. She thought of her own father, who would most certainly be disappointed in the way her life was turning out. She wondered if he missed her. She wondered if he cared. "I don't know, Gabriel..."
"I've already told her all about you."
Elle didn't know how to say no, so she said yes instead.
But the meeting with Mrs. Gray did not go as well as Gabriel clearly thought it would; it was less a "meet the folks" dinner as it was a "she's not good enough for you, Gabriel, and this is my opportunity to point out to you all of her flaws" dinner. While Elle marveled at all the tchotchkes in the living room, she overheard Mrs. Gray list to her son all the reasons she was wrong for him.
"You don't know anything about her, Gabriel. She could be trouble. What kind of girl moves in with a guy she's barely just met?"
"She's helped me out so much more than you would understand, Mother," Gabriel replied.
"You're special, Gabriel," Virginia said, cradling her son's face in her hands. "You deserve better."
Better. It was a word Elle had grown used to hearing, but for some reason it still managed to sting every time. Elle had been exhausted by the effort of keeping up appearances at dinner. She'd smiled as she lied about herself and her background, trying her best not to slip up. She'd cheerfully submitted to each of Mrs. Gray's probing questions. But she could have done better.
They walked back to 1146 Trenton Place, apartment 1B, in silence. "She liked you," Gabriel finally said to her as he let her in ahead of him.
"Not for you, she didn't," Elle snapped back. "But really, who could blame her? I'm a total screw-up in every way."
"You're not a screw-up at all," he replied. "You're a good person in rough circumstances."
"Your mother didn't see it that way."
"My mother has no idea what I've done," his voice hitched as he blushed with guilt and shame. "And she has no idea what you've done for me. Elle, you're the only reason I'm still alive..."
"Don't," Elle whispered as he wrapped his hands around the back of her neck. "I'm not in the mood."
He ignored her and pulled her towards him, kissing her forcefully. She nearly fell backwards from its intensity. "You convinced the that I was special, Elle," Gabriel whispered, placing his forehead on hers, their breaths mingling. "How can I convince you that you are, too?"
"But I'm not," Elle protested, thinking of her father and her old life and how she was never good enough in that one, either.
"But you are," Gabriel repeated, and suddenly the buttons on Elle's blouse began undoing themselves on their own.
Elle lifted her head, meeting Gabriel's gaze. "Really?" she asked, her voice sincere and shaky.
"Let me show you," Gabriel replied.
... he pulled his hand away. Elle's skin had been cold and clammy under his touch, and yet his palms were sweating. That was too much... too personal... too... emotional...
He looked away from Elle, trying to regain a sense of mental balance. He felt as though he'd been gone inside her mind for days, when in reality moments had barely passed. The infant was being cleaned by the nurse, while Dr. Zimmerman checked and double-checked the monitors.
The Haitian had two choices. He could go back and erase the memory, witnessing the intimacy of Elle and Gabriel, intruding on a private moment in the past. It made him sick to think about it - both the idea Elle and Gabriel together in that way, and the thought of having to watch it all unfold in his mind.
And so he went with his second option - he left it alone, a half-erased memory of a beautiful moment. He didn't know what the repercussions would be, erasing all the love and leaving in the sex, but he didn't care. He couldn't watch it. He couldn't bear to.
And so, when he delicately placed his hand back on her forehead, he moved onwards to another time, another memory...
Somehow they both managed to not only fit on Gabriel's twin-sized bed, but they also got a good night's sleep.
"Guess it's true what they say about exercise before bed," Elle teased. She lay curled against him, her back to his chest, his arms wrapped around her. As the gray light emanated in though the kitchen windows, she played with his hands, so much bigger than hers, tracing the lines of his palms and wondering what was written there.
"I meant what I said last night," Gabriel said, his voice low and soothing. "I meant every word. Elle, you're special, really special, to me at least. I think I love you."
Elle dropped his hands suddenly and drew her own arms into her chest. That hadn't been part of the plan, this hadn't been part of the plan... All she had wanted to do was save his soul, like the angel he thought her to be, when in reality she was more broken than anyone else.
"I think I love you to," she said back, meekly, because she didn't know what else to say.
no subject
As it is now after Thanksgiving, I demand more..........please.