(no subject)
TITLE: Tiebreaker
AUTHOR: dragynflies
PAIRING: Elle/Gabriel, baby Noah
RATING: R
DISCLAIMER: Heroes cast is not mine.
SUMMARY: She’ll do anything to make Noah happy, because that’s all he ever does for her.
Part one: Of Bishops and Knights
Part two: Checkmate
Part three: Castle
Part four: Breakthrough
Part five: Endgame
Part six…
Noah’s latest trick is making more than one stuffed animal fly at once. He can make them loop now, create his own version of a mobile with just a glance. Noah’s easy mastery of his ability scares Elle a little bit, and also makes Elle remember herself, at three, cold and shaking and trying so hard to only spark on command.
It wasn’t nearly as easy for her to control her ability at three as it is for Noah. He delights in what he can do, loves to make his bears float and fly and dance in figure eights. He is clearly pleased with himself, looks towards Elle with a big grin when he shows off the latest thing he’s taught himself.
Maybe, if Elle had been able to teach herself how to control her electricity, things would have been different. If her father hadn’t pushed her so hard, maybe it wouldn’t have taken her so long to internalize her ability, to really control it and understand it. Because of this, Elle is careful with Noah. She gives him chances to practice, and claps and smiles when he does something new, but she never, ever implies that his ability is what makes him worthwhile, and never tells him what to do with it.
Sometimes she bases her ideas on parenting on just doing the exact opposite of her father, because June has taught her that he was never really what a father should be. She can’t make herself stop loving her daddy, can’t even make herself not miss him, but she can try to make sure that Noah never feels that empty ache in his heart that she thought was normal.
She knows the person who would be best suited for helping Noah grow and mature into his ability is Gabriel, with his matching telekinesis, but she’s not ready to have that conversation.
“Mama, you have sparks,” Noah tells her one night, laying on his bed and watching six different stuffed animals dance in a circle above his head.
Elle raises an eyebrow, curious, “You know that,” she says, “Why?”
“I make things fly,” Noah says, and suddenly six stuffed animals land on his bed.
“Yes, you do,” Elle encourages.
“What does my daddy do?”
Oh.
“He…he does some things,” Elle says vaguely, and in her mind she start a list. Telekinesis, like Noah, but there is also his intuitive aptitude, rapid healing, alchemy from her father, her own electricity…and who knows what else…especially now.
“Can I show him teddy fly?” Noah questions, scooping the bear into his arms and holding him out to Elle.
She shakes her head, “What did mama tell you about flying things?”
Noah visibly grumbles, dropping his teddy to the bed and crossing his arms, “Is a secret.”
“And who can you show?”
“You,” Noah pouts, “Not June or Bridget or Daddy.”
Elle nods, ruffling his hair and leaning in to kiss his forehead, “That’s right. Thank you for listening to mama.”
Noah grumps, but Elle knows he won’t tell Gabriel until Elle gives permission…she knows Gabriel will find out at some point. She just wants to wait a little longer, because sometimes when she closes her eyes, she can see her son’s face with a red line etched across his forehead.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
“Daddy, ice cream,” Noah requests, tugging on Gabriel’s pant leg as the three of them walk down the street. To strangers, they are a beautiful little family, their son a perfect blend of his handsome father and pretty mother.
They can’t see the way Elle’s stomach twists when Gabriel looks at her, or how Gabriel reaches to touch her but never makes contact. They don’t notice that Noah alternates between parents, but never seems to touch either at the same time, like he understands that while they stand next to each other, they are always apart.
Gabriel looks to Elle for permission; when she nods, he picks up Noah, “We can have ice cream. What would you like?”
“Banilla!” Noah shrieks, gleeful that his request was approved. He lets Gabriel give him a little hug, then squirms, “but I walk, Daddy.”
“Of course,” Gabriel says, and sets Noah carefully back down on the side walk. Noah grasps Elle’s hand and beams up at her.
She can’t help but smile back. As hard as these meetings are on her, she loves to watch Noah light up with Gabriel, loves to see her son happy. She’ll do anything to make Noah happy, because that’s all he ever does for her.
When they walk into the little ice cream shop, Gabriel obliges their son’s demands, holds up Noah so he can examine the ice cream. It makes Elle smile because she can’t count the number of times she’s held Noah up for long minutes only to have him choose vanilla every. single. time.
The muscles in Gabriel’s arms ripple as he shifts his son, “What are you going to pick?” he asks, while Noah arches his body forward to peer into the glass case.
Noah is silent, then looks up to the smiling employee behind the counter.
“I will have banilla in a cone, pwease,” he requests. Gabriel laughs and sets him down. He gets a matching cone for himself and glances over to Elle, his eyebrow raised.
She shakes her head and sits down at a table to wait for Noah to bound over with his ice cream. It’s still so surreal to her, it doesn’t matter how many times she and Gabriel do anything with Noah; it never seems to get any easier.
Gabriel and Noah join her, vanilla ice cream cones clutched in their hands, and Elle is struck again with just how much her son looks like his father.
Noah has his nose buried in his ice cream, the vanilla dripping down over his fingers and his chin. He will need a bath again tonight and Elle is not looking forward to the battle that is getting Noah into a tub of soapy water.
“You’re quiet today.” Gabriel’s voice startles her, and she looks away from Noah to meet his concerned eyes.
“Just thinking,” she mumbles, shoving a lock of hair behind her ear. “He’s gonna need a bath tonight.”
“You’ve been quiet all afternoon,” he pushes, “is everything alright?”
No. Everything is not alright. She hates that she’s still jealous of him, hates that her son looks just like what she’d imagine Gabriel’s baby pictures to look like, hates that Noah seems to adore Gabriel even though it is Elle who has spent the last four years of her life changing, giving up everything, and taking care of him, and worse, she hates that she wants Gabriel to come home with them and never leave, ever.
“I’m fine,” she says, reaching over to wipe at Noah’s chin with a paper napkin.
“Elle…”
“Not now,” she says firmly, looking at her son to make sure her meaning is clear. We don’t argue or talk about any of our things in front of him.
Gabriel takes the hint and taps the tip of Elle’s nose with his ice cream cone. “How about a smile then?” he begs, as Elle wipes at her nose with a napkin.
She closes her eyes and bites her lip, “I’m trying,” she whispers.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Of course Noah takes a bath with no problem when Gabriel asks him.
Noah lets Gabriel soap up his blonde hair, closes his eyes when Gabriel rinses the shampoo out, and holds up his hands, little fingers spread out, so that Gabriel can clean the ice cream from each finger.
Elle picks out pajamas and turns down Noah’s bed while Gabriel dries the wiggly little boy off with a soft towel and helps him into his pull up before accepting the footie pajamas from Elle.
“Read me story, Daddy?” Noah asks, and holds out a book. Gabriel nods, and takes the book from Noah’s outstretched little hand, and Elle swallows her sigh and goes to leave the room.
“Mama, read story?” Noah begs, and Elle pastes a smile on her face.
“Sure, Noah,” she says, and sinks down onto the bed. Noah settles his little body between his parents, squirming and pushing at them until they’re both lying down on either side of him, and then turns to Gabriel.
“You can read now,” he tells Gabriel, who opens the book and starts the story, his voice soothing, like Elle remembers from years ago, when he told her she could have exactly what she wanted.
He’s just turning to the last page in the book when Noah’s snore interrupts him, and Gabriel closes the book.
“Maybe I wanted to know how it ends,” Elle teases, a real smile on her face.
“Everyone lived happily ever after,” Gabriel says it without thinking, and immediately regrets it.
Elle glances down at Noah, asleep on her shoulder, before looking at Gabriel. “It’s too bad life isn’t a fairy tale,” she murmurs.
Gabriel nods, unsure of where she’s going or what she’s really saying.
“I wanted to live happily ever after,” she finally says, her voice so quiet he can barely hear her. She shifts a little, carefully slides her hand under Noah’s head to move him from her shoulder to the pillow. He sighs in his sleep but doesn’t wake up, and she moves to get up.
“Wait,” Gabriel begs, reaching for her hand. He grasps her wrist and she doesn’t pull away; it’s the most she’s let him touch her since that horrible night, but he can feel her pulse fluttering quickly against his thumb.
He makes her nervous.
Elle motions to the living room; he releases her hand and gets up from Noah’s bed carefully, so he doesn’t disturb the sleeping child. He follows Elle out of the room, pausing to turn on the nightlight next to Noah’s door, and then closes the door carefully.
Elle sits down at the kitchen table instead of the couch and twists her fingers together, playing with her rings. It’s the first time since their kiss that she’s really invited him to talk to her without Noah, and she looks absolutely pale.
Gabriel sits across from her, the small table like an ocean keeping them separate.
“You’re good with Noah,” Elle admits. “I’m sorry that you didn’t know him sooner.”
He hates that he missed the earliest years of Noah’s life. He hates that he never had to get up with him in the middle of the night, never had to change a diaper or warm a bottle. Most of all, he hates that he wasn’t able to be there for Elle when she found out she was pregnant, never brought her saltines or ginger ale or held her hair back when she had morning sickness.
Of course, those things are his fault, and that hurts too. From the second he’d left her for dead on the beach until the second that Bennet had said something that implied Elle wasn’t dead, he missed her. Regret her death more than anything he’d ever done, ever. Hated that he wasn’t able to control himself, and hated even more that this time, his lack of control had cost Elle her life, and him, the only person he wanted to be with.
“I didn’t deserve to know him,” he mumbles, staring at the wood grain of the kitchen table. His fingers trace the lines of the wood and he avoids looking up to meet Elle’s blue eyes.
She shakes her head, “Maybe not. But…you’ve changed, I think.”
“I…”
“What do you do in New York?” she asks, cutting him off.
“I…work?” he says, “I told you, I have a shop…I repair watches…”
“So…” this question is never easy, no matter how many times she has to ask it,”have you hurt anyone?”
He swallows hard, shakes his head. “Not…not since…not since I found out you were here.”
So…no one since Bennet. It wasn’t good, but it was a start.
“Are you going to?”
His head shake is more firm this time, “Never again.”
Elle’s hands shake as she reaches across the table for his. She slides their hands together, touching him carefully, like he might bolt. Gabriel’s gaze rises from their hands to her face.
“I’m sorry about before,” she says softly. He moves one hand away from their entwined fingers to brush against her scarred cheek. She doesn’t jump this time, just lets him touch her. When his fingers touch the soft skin next to the scar, her eyes flutter close.
“I hurt you,” he says, his voice so sorrowful that her eyes open just in time to see a single tear roll down his cheek.
Elle places her palm over the hand on her cheek. She can’t argue with that. “You did,” she agrees, thinking of her recovery in the hospital, the pain that moving caused for weeks after she was released, and the aching hole in her heart that never quite filled.
“I never want to hurt you again.”
So this is it, then, and she takes a deep breath before she speaks. “So kiss me.”
He can’t hide his shock, eyes wide as he reaches for her, pulls her to him. She sits in his lap, and he traces the lines of her face with his fingertips, like she’s a porcelain doll who will break under his touch.
The lines of her scars blend into perfect, unmarred skin, and the skin under her ear is so soft. He rubs his thumb against the line of her jaw, and then carefully pulls her head to his. He kisses her like she might flee, doesn’t cup the back of her head or hold onto her shoulders in case she wants to pull back.
But she doesn’t. Her eyes close, and she kisses him back. He can feel the flutter of her eyelashes against the skin of his cheek, her heart thrumming in her chest, the gentle touch of the pads of her fingers against the side of his neck.
They lose themselves in each other, tongues dueling and lips pressing against each other, gentle but firm. She presses herself against him, and sighs against his mouth when he finally wraps his arms around her, holding her.
He pulls back first, to her surprise, and she fixes him with a questioning glace.
“I should go,” he says, and Elle’s face falls.
“Oh…”
“I just…I don’t want to rush anything, and…” he shifts with her in his lap, rubs her back.
Elle has no idea how to do this, no idea how to try to date him, this man who is so much more than…a boyfriend? Noah’s father?
“Will you stay?” she asks quietly, “We…we can watch television or…or…” anything, just please…
“Yeah,” he agrees, “I’ll stay.”
When June comes back from work that night, they are asleep on the couch, an infomercial on the TV. Elle is curled against Gabriel’s chest, her face nestled in his neck, and his face is in her hair, his arms wrapped around her. She covers them with a blanket and smoothes the hair back from Elle’s sleeping face. Over the past four years, Elle has wormed her way into June’s heart, and June loves to see her happy. She deserves it.
AUTHOR: dragynflies
PAIRING: Elle/Gabriel, baby Noah
RATING: R
DISCLAIMER: Heroes cast is not mine.
SUMMARY: She’ll do anything to make Noah happy, because that’s all he ever does for her.
Part one: Of Bishops and Knights
Part two: Checkmate
Part three: Castle
Part four: Breakthrough
Part five: Endgame
Part six…
Noah’s latest trick is making more than one stuffed animal fly at once. He can make them loop now, create his own version of a mobile with just a glance. Noah’s easy mastery of his ability scares Elle a little bit, and also makes Elle remember herself, at three, cold and shaking and trying so hard to only spark on command.
It wasn’t nearly as easy for her to control her ability at three as it is for Noah. He delights in what he can do, loves to make his bears float and fly and dance in figure eights. He is clearly pleased with himself, looks towards Elle with a big grin when he shows off the latest thing he’s taught himself.
Maybe, if Elle had been able to teach herself how to control her electricity, things would have been different. If her father hadn’t pushed her so hard, maybe it wouldn’t have taken her so long to internalize her ability, to really control it and understand it. Because of this, Elle is careful with Noah. She gives him chances to practice, and claps and smiles when he does something new, but she never, ever implies that his ability is what makes him worthwhile, and never tells him what to do with it.
Sometimes she bases her ideas on parenting on just doing the exact opposite of her father, because June has taught her that he was never really what a father should be. She can’t make herself stop loving her daddy, can’t even make herself not miss him, but she can try to make sure that Noah never feels that empty ache in his heart that she thought was normal.
She knows the person who would be best suited for helping Noah grow and mature into his ability is Gabriel, with his matching telekinesis, but she’s not ready to have that conversation.
“Mama, you have sparks,” Noah tells her one night, laying on his bed and watching six different stuffed animals dance in a circle above his head.
Elle raises an eyebrow, curious, “You know that,” she says, “Why?”
“I make things fly,” Noah says, and suddenly six stuffed animals land on his bed.
“Yes, you do,” Elle encourages.
“What does my daddy do?”
Oh.
“He…he does some things,” Elle says vaguely, and in her mind she start a list. Telekinesis, like Noah, but there is also his intuitive aptitude, rapid healing, alchemy from her father, her own electricity…and who knows what else…especially now.
“Can I show him teddy fly?” Noah questions, scooping the bear into his arms and holding him out to Elle.
She shakes her head, “What did mama tell you about flying things?”
Noah visibly grumbles, dropping his teddy to the bed and crossing his arms, “Is a secret.”
“And who can you show?”
“You,” Noah pouts, “Not June or Bridget or Daddy.”
Elle nods, ruffling his hair and leaning in to kiss his forehead, “That’s right. Thank you for listening to mama.”
Noah grumps, but Elle knows he won’t tell Gabriel until Elle gives permission…she knows Gabriel will find out at some point. She just wants to wait a little longer, because sometimes when she closes her eyes, she can see her son’s face with a red line etched across his forehead.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
“Daddy, ice cream,” Noah requests, tugging on Gabriel’s pant leg as the three of them walk down the street. To strangers, they are a beautiful little family, their son a perfect blend of his handsome father and pretty mother.
They can’t see the way Elle’s stomach twists when Gabriel looks at her, or how Gabriel reaches to touch her but never makes contact. They don’t notice that Noah alternates between parents, but never seems to touch either at the same time, like he understands that while they stand next to each other, they are always apart.
Gabriel looks to Elle for permission; when she nods, he picks up Noah, “We can have ice cream. What would you like?”
“Banilla!” Noah shrieks, gleeful that his request was approved. He lets Gabriel give him a little hug, then squirms, “but I walk, Daddy.”
“Of course,” Gabriel says, and sets Noah carefully back down on the side walk. Noah grasps Elle’s hand and beams up at her.
She can’t help but smile back. As hard as these meetings are on her, she loves to watch Noah light up with Gabriel, loves to see her son happy. She’ll do anything to make Noah happy, because that’s all he ever does for her.
When they walk into the little ice cream shop, Gabriel obliges their son’s demands, holds up Noah so he can examine the ice cream. It makes Elle smile because she can’t count the number of times she’s held Noah up for long minutes only to have him choose vanilla every. single. time.
The muscles in Gabriel’s arms ripple as he shifts his son, “What are you going to pick?” he asks, while Noah arches his body forward to peer into the glass case.
Noah is silent, then looks up to the smiling employee behind the counter.
“I will have banilla in a cone, pwease,” he requests. Gabriel laughs and sets him down. He gets a matching cone for himself and glances over to Elle, his eyebrow raised.
She shakes her head and sits down at a table to wait for Noah to bound over with his ice cream. It’s still so surreal to her, it doesn’t matter how many times she and Gabriel do anything with Noah; it never seems to get any easier.
Gabriel and Noah join her, vanilla ice cream cones clutched in their hands, and Elle is struck again with just how much her son looks like his father.
Noah has his nose buried in his ice cream, the vanilla dripping down over his fingers and his chin. He will need a bath again tonight and Elle is not looking forward to the battle that is getting Noah into a tub of soapy water.
“You’re quiet today.” Gabriel’s voice startles her, and she looks away from Noah to meet his concerned eyes.
“Just thinking,” she mumbles, shoving a lock of hair behind her ear. “He’s gonna need a bath tonight.”
“You’ve been quiet all afternoon,” he pushes, “is everything alright?”
No. Everything is not alright. She hates that she’s still jealous of him, hates that her son looks just like what she’d imagine Gabriel’s baby pictures to look like, hates that Noah seems to adore Gabriel even though it is Elle who has spent the last four years of her life changing, giving up everything, and taking care of him, and worse, she hates that she wants Gabriel to come home with them and never leave, ever.
“I’m fine,” she says, reaching over to wipe at Noah’s chin with a paper napkin.
“Elle…”
“Not now,” she says firmly, looking at her son to make sure her meaning is clear. We don’t argue or talk about any of our things in front of him.
Gabriel takes the hint and taps the tip of Elle’s nose with his ice cream cone. “How about a smile then?” he begs, as Elle wipes at her nose with a napkin.
She closes her eyes and bites her lip, “I’m trying,” she whispers.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Of course Noah takes a bath with no problem when Gabriel asks him.
Noah lets Gabriel soap up his blonde hair, closes his eyes when Gabriel rinses the shampoo out, and holds up his hands, little fingers spread out, so that Gabriel can clean the ice cream from each finger.
Elle picks out pajamas and turns down Noah’s bed while Gabriel dries the wiggly little boy off with a soft towel and helps him into his pull up before accepting the footie pajamas from Elle.
“Read me story, Daddy?” Noah asks, and holds out a book. Gabriel nods, and takes the book from Noah’s outstretched little hand, and Elle swallows her sigh and goes to leave the room.
“Mama, read story?” Noah begs, and Elle pastes a smile on her face.
“Sure, Noah,” she says, and sinks down onto the bed. Noah settles his little body between his parents, squirming and pushing at them until they’re both lying down on either side of him, and then turns to Gabriel.
“You can read now,” he tells Gabriel, who opens the book and starts the story, his voice soothing, like Elle remembers from years ago, when he told her she could have exactly what she wanted.
He’s just turning to the last page in the book when Noah’s snore interrupts him, and Gabriel closes the book.
“Maybe I wanted to know how it ends,” Elle teases, a real smile on her face.
“Everyone lived happily ever after,” Gabriel says it without thinking, and immediately regrets it.
Elle glances down at Noah, asleep on her shoulder, before looking at Gabriel. “It’s too bad life isn’t a fairy tale,” she murmurs.
Gabriel nods, unsure of where she’s going or what she’s really saying.
“I wanted to live happily ever after,” she finally says, her voice so quiet he can barely hear her. She shifts a little, carefully slides her hand under Noah’s head to move him from her shoulder to the pillow. He sighs in his sleep but doesn’t wake up, and she moves to get up.
“Wait,” Gabriel begs, reaching for her hand. He grasps her wrist and she doesn’t pull away; it’s the most she’s let him touch her since that horrible night, but he can feel her pulse fluttering quickly against his thumb.
He makes her nervous.
Elle motions to the living room; he releases her hand and gets up from Noah’s bed carefully, so he doesn’t disturb the sleeping child. He follows Elle out of the room, pausing to turn on the nightlight next to Noah’s door, and then closes the door carefully.
Elle sits down at the kitchen table instead of the couch and twists her fingers together, playing with her rings. It’s the first time since their kiss that she’s really invited him to talk to her without Noah, and she looks absolutely pale.
Gabriel sits across from her, the small table like an ocean keeping them separate.
“You’re good with Noah,” Elle admits. “I’m sorry that you didn’t know him sooner.”
He hates that he missed the earliest years of Noah’s life. He hates that he never had to get up with him in the middle of the night, never had to change a diaper or warm a bottle. Most of all, he hates that he wasn’t able to be there for Elle when she found out she was pregnant, never brought her saltines or ginger ale or held her hair back when she had morning sickness.
Of course, those things are his fault, and that hurts too. From the second he’d left her for dead on the beach until the second that Bennet had said something that implied Elle wasn’t dead, he missed her. Regret her death more than anything he’d ever done, ever. Hated that he wasn’t able to control himself, and hated even more that this time, his lack of control had cost Elle her life, and him, the only person he wanted to be with.
“I didn’t deserve to know him,” he mumbles, staring at the wood grain of the kitchen table. His fingers trace the lines of the wood and he avoids looking up to meet Elle’s blue eyes.
She shakes her head, “Maybe not. But…you’ve changed, I think.”
“I…”
“What do you do in New York?” she asks, cutting him off.
“I…work?” he says, “I told you, I have a shop…I repair watches…”
“So…” this question is never easy, no matter how many times she has to ask it,”have you hurt anyone?”
He swallows hard, shakes his head. “Not…not since…not since I found out you were here.”
So…no one since Bennet. It wasn’t good, but it was a start.
“Are you going to?”
His head shake is more firm this time, “Never again.”
Elle’s hands shake as she reaches across the table for his. She slides their hands together, touching him carefully, like he might bolt. Gabriel’s gaze rises from their hands to her face.
“I’m sorry about before,” she says softly. He moves one hand away from their entwined fingers to brush against her scarred cheek. She doesn’t jump this time, just lets him touch her. When his fingers touch the soft skin next to the scar, her eyes flutter close.
“I hurt you,” he says, his voice so sorrowful that her eyes open just in time to see a single tear roll down his cheek.
Elle places her palm over the hand on her cheek. She can’t argue with that. “You did,” she agrees, thinking of her recovery in the hospital, the pain that moving caused for weeks after she was released, and the aching hole in her heart that never quite filled.
“I never want to hurt you again.”
So this is it, then, and she takes a deep breath before she speaks. “So kiss me.”
He can’t hide his shock, eyes wide as he reaches for her, pulls her to him. She sits in his lap, and he traces the lines of her face with his fingertips, like she’s a porcelain doll who will break under his touch.
The lines of her scars blend into perfect, unmarred skin, and the skin under her ear is so soft. He rubs his thumb against the line of her jaw, and then carefully pulls her head to his. He kisses her like she might flee, doesn’t cup the back of her head or hold onto her shoulders in case she wants to pull back.
But she doesn’t. Her eyes close, and she kisses him back. He can feel the flutter of her eyelashes against the skin of his cheek, her heart thrumming in her chest, the gentle touch of the pads of her fingers against the side of his neck.
They lose themselves in each other, tongues dueling and lips pressing against each other, gentle but firm. She presses herself against him, and sighs against his mouth when he finally wraps his arms around her, holding her.
He pulls back first, to her surprise, and she fixes him with a questioning glace.
“I should go,” he says, and Elle’s face falls.
“Oh…”
“I just…I don’t want to rush anything, and…” he shifts with her in his lap, rubs her back.
Elle has no idea how to do this, no idea how to try to date him, this man who is so much more than…a boyfriend? Noah’s father?
“Will you stay?” she asks quietly, “We…we can watch television or…or…” anything, just please…
“Yeah,” he agrees, “I’ll stay.”
When June comes back from work that night, they are asleep on the couch, an infomercial on the TV. Elle is curled against Gabriel’s chest, her face nestled in his neck, and his face is in her hair, his arms wrapped around her. She covers them with a blanket and smoothes the hair back from Elle’s sleeping face. Over the past four years, Elle has wormed her way into June’s heart, and June loves to see her happy. She deserves it.