fic: Mémoire {ch. 2}
Title: Mémoire
Fandom: Heroes
Character(s)/Pairing: Elle Bishop, Elle/Gabriel(Sylar), The Haitian, Peter.
Summary/Excerpt: "Before Elle leaves, he scribbles a phone number onto a small slip of paper. It’s the phone number of the house they’re at, and she takes it silently. She realizes he’s going to wait for her, even if he has his doubts."
Author's Notes: This ones a little short; so, sorry for the wait. :)
Chapter(s)?: 1 | 2
~~~~~
He tells her he gave her his blood. Said the cheerleader’s blood could heal, so he might as well give it a try. It didn’t heal her fully, but it did the trick. He said she’ll be sore for a while, and might always have little headaches, but other than that she would be fine.
She doesn’t ask who he took the house from, or their clothes. She doesn’t need to know, and she figures he probably doesn’t know the answer anyway.
She’s quiet, distant, watches the waves from the kitchen window as he makes her breakfast. He starts to think he did more damage to her than he did repair.
“Gabriel?” She calls, her voice soft, calm, and so not Elle.
He stops what he’s doing, walks over to her.
She regards him with a steady gaze, looks into his eyes with a sort of sadness and determination.
“I want to get my memories back. So, I’m going to find The Haitian.”
He notices she says “I”, instead of asking him to go with her. He frowns, and she notices he’s about to protest.
“Gabriel. This is something I need to do. I’ll be fine, don’t worry. I’ll come back here, come back to you. But, I need to do this. I need to do this for me.”
He sighs then, but nods, smiles a little to give her reassurance.
“When are you leaving?”
She bites her lip, looks at him carefully.
“Today.”
He closes his eyes and she looks away, not being able to look at him like that.
“Why so soon?” he asks her and she can feel the sorrow creep into his voice. He thinks she won’t come back to him. Thinks she thinks he really is just a monster.
“Once Angela realized that the eclipse took our powers away she would have sent someone to kill Arthur. I’m betting on the fact that she sent The Haitian anyway, in case something went wrong. They’ll all still be there, cleaning up the mess, and all that jazz. He usually takes off whenever they don’t need him anymore, and I’m hoping that’ll be my chance.”
He nods, her plan makes sense, and he only winced once as he heard her logic of the murder of his father - or, supposed father, as it seems, Gabriel still doesn’t know who to believe anymore. But, to be honest, he doesn’t really care at this moment. He knew Arthur was only using him, always did. His main focus now is Elle, and that should bother him, should bother Sylar, but it doesn’t really bother Gabriel.
Before Elle leaves, he scribbles a phone number onto a small slip of paper. It’s the phone number of the house they’re at, and she takes it silently. She realizes he’s going to wait for her, even if he has his doubts.