(no subject)

[petitebelette]

Both Spineless and Sublime
Rating: K now, M later
Pairing: Gabriel/Elle
Authors: superkappa and petitebelette
Summary: AU WITH POWERS. Elle convinces her dad to let her go to high school for one year before becoming an agent. She just wants to be normal. Just a little. Gabriel already goes to high school, and he hates it. The last thing he wants to be is normal. So obviously, it's hate at first sight.

Author’s Note: Not beta'd. Only by us over many months of rereading. So hopefully it's perfect lol. (Probably not.) FYI we know the rest of A Lover's Alibi hasn't been posted, although it's done. We just haven't gone through the long, arduous process of copying and pasting the logs yet. Enjoy high school!Gabriel/Elle instead? For real, it seems superficial now... but it goes places. Dark, crazy places.

No stupid teenage movie or an entire weekend of dreading class could have prepared Elle for how absolutely horrible Monday was.

The moment she stepped inside the halls, something was different. She'd pointedly wore her best jeans and a blue sweetheart top, just like she'd wear any other day, but now people were staring at her, and she knew it wasn't because she looked nice.

Jeremy and Sandy hadn't saved her a seat in English, and she could hear them giggling cruelly in the back the whole time, and Elle knew it had to be about her.

Everyone was whispering too. The first few times she just clenched her jaw, unable to hear what was being said. But when third period rolled around and she'd finally heard snatches of "slut" and "easy" and "not surprised; have you seen how she throws herself at everyone?" Elle was beginning to feel like shit. It didn't help that Sandy had been the one to say that last bit, and when she'd spun around and confronted her about it colorfully, Sandy had laughed in her face and told her she didn't talk to cheap whores.

All of this had just made Elle angry, but the breaking point, besides the catcalls and smirks from every slimy jock Jeremy knew, was when one of them slapped her ass in the middle of a crowded hall and asked her what her rates were.

And then everyone laughed.

She'd flushed with instant, stupid tears, called him a bad name, and ran straight for the bathroom, hiding in one of the stalls and slumping down to the cold floor. She tried to muffle a sob into her hand, but it echoed, and hot tears cascaded down her cheeks.

She didn't want to cry, and she remembered Gabriel's words--that they didn't deserve her tears, but she couldn't help it. She had no one. She didn't even have fake friends anymore. And she hadn't even seen Gabriel yet.

Though she hadn't seen Gabriel yet, he had seen her. It would have been hard not to, that day. He knew the kids at the school could be cruel (how many times had Jeremy and his buddies called him a faggot or similar names, pushing him into lockers?) but he had hoped it wouldn't be quite so bad for her.

But it was. He had been watching from around the corner as a particularly douchebaggy football player slapped her on the ass. He found his hands in fists, his body boiling in rage. Really, how crude could some people get?

But the anger quickly became secondary as he watched her storm off, away from the other students and toward the bathroom. Without even a second thought he took off after her, following her inside. He didn't even feel awkward about being in there. It wasn't like he was trying to be perverse.

His stomach twisted a little as he heard her crying in one of the stalls. It was one thing when he upset her (and she never cried over him, he noted) but for some reason it really disturbed him when someone else did.

"Elle?" he called out experimentally.

She tensed when she heard a voice, choking on a sob and straightening. "Who's there?" she asked, panicked, her voice viscid and raspy with tears. The last thing she needed on top of everything else was for someone to catch her crying. She bet that would be icing on the cake.

He felt almost disappointed that she didn't recognize his voice, but he shook it off. He couldn't focus on that right now. "It's me, Gabriel." She'd probably yell at him or something for being in here, but oh well.

She fell quiet, the rush of instant, beautiful gratefulness that washed over her stealing her voice for a moment. It wasn't some bitchy girl, or anyone at all that would either titter at her or awkwardly ignore her. Her chest shook with continuing little cries, and she folded her legs up to her torso as more tears fell, unbidden.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked curiously, the syllables strained with tears. She knew, of course, that he'd probably followed her, but she wanted to know why. She wanted it to be because he cared, however silly and stupid that was to wish. He didn't even like her, and she wasn't supposed to care if he cared.

It was just because no one else did, of course.

Especially today.

He stood there awkwardly, unsure of how to answer. He wanted to fall back on his default response on how one was supposed to try to help cheer a crying woman up, but that sounded wrong to him even in his head. Still, he didn't really have an answer; he had just acted on impulse, not even thinking about it.

"I don't know," he finally responded awkwardly.

A pang struck her somewhere in the gut at his non-committal response, and she croaked out a hurt, wavering little "oh," wiping at her tears with trembling fingers. There was no reason to be so disappointed over nothing.

His stomach twisted again at how hurt she sounded. Why did it matter? Why was he even here?

"I just saw you run off...and I wanted to make sure you were okay. You shouldn't let those assholes get to you, it'll only give them more power."

Not the best way to put things, but he couldn't help it.

Her eyes filled with more tears and she clutched at her knees tighter, her chest aching, her heart clenching oddly at his profession of concern. She clung to those words a little too tightly. And even though she knew the rest of them were true, she couldn't help how shitty the day was. She could argue, maybe, but she hardly had the strength, and what would be the point?

"I'm not okay," she whispered.

He didn't know what to say. What was someone supposed to say in this situation? He wished she would argue with him. That he knew how to react to. Crying? It just made him feel awkward and inadequate, like whenever his mother cried.

"It'd be easier to help you if you opened the door."

She didn't really want to open the door. It would mean he'd see her like this, huddled up and crying like a little girl. But she couldn't deny the desire to see him, and she wiped her face thoroughly before reaching up to slide the lock over, letting the door creak open on its old hinges.

As soon as he saw her looking so defenseless and weak his chest tightened. It almost hurt to breath. He knelt down next to her, and without thinking wrapped his arms around her, holding her quietly. He knew if he said anything, he'd only make it worse.

She lifted her arms to grasp his shoulders lightly, resting her face against his chest effortlessly, as if it was what she'd been waiting for all along, had been waiting for with expectation. Maybe it had been. His warmth and embrace immediately soothed her; Elle couldn't remember how long ago it had been since anyone had held her like this. She wasn't even sure if it ever happened.

Gabriel had held his mother like this a million times (more times than he had ever dared to seek comfort from her) but somehow, this was different. His heart skipped a beat. What was he doing?

He had an idea, tugging on her a little to stand now. "Let's skip out for the rest of the day."

It was an impulsive idea, but the last thing she needed was to be in this hell hole.

He smelled just like his jacket, and Elle couldn't help but breathe him in, pulling back with half-lidded eyes as he helped her to her feet fluidly. She felt a small smile on her lips and furrowed her brow. She certainly wouldn't mind leaving, not at all, but he really wanted to go with her? "You'll skip with me?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes a little, pulling his hands away now that she was up. At least she was smiling again. Why was that important?

"I wouldn't offer if I wasn't willing."

Her furrowed brows deepened easily into a glare at his slight attitude. Of course, she shouldn't have ever expected the sweetness to last. She kept her hands stubbornly on his shoulders; why did he pull his away? What, did she have cooties? "Well excuse me if I'm a little surprised. Last week the only thing you were willing to do was taunt me."

"Well, if you don't want my help again, I can just leave you here until Sandy or one of her pet bitches comes to find you crying," he replied sharply, turning to leave. What had he even been thinking? Clearly, this was a mistake.

She bristled, both put-out and surprised again. He ran so hot and cold. Angrily she pushed past him, leaning against the door with her arms spread and blocking his way out. She let out a growl of frustration. "Do I look like I'm crying anymore?" she snapped sarcastically.

He blinked in surprise as she blocked the door, leaving him with no escape. He couldn't help but be relieved. This was the Elle he knew. The Elle he liked.

Not that he liked her.

"No." He shrugged his shoulders. "But that doesn't mean you won't start again if they start being bitches again, and they will be."

She huffed, gaping at him for an offended moment. "Do I look like the kind of person who starts bawling every time somebody calls me a bad name?" she barked out.

Yeah, she cried today, but that was different. She wasn't just going to go sobbing if Sandy called her a slut.

"I don't know," he challenged. "Why don't you prove to me just how strong you are." Okay, so maybe he was being a little cruel, but better she was angry at him than sad about stupid shit, that's the way he saw it anyways.

Her eyes narrowed. She let out a guttural ugh and couldn't contain herself; she reached out and shoved him, because she couldn't electrocute him. "I don't have to prove anything to you!"

"But you already have," he said with a knowing smirk, stumbling back as she shoved him. "If you can handle me, and you can, then there's no reason why any of their mistreatment should be any different. Don't you see it, Elle? We're better than them."

She started at his use of 'we', but she was much too angry to go all gooey over it. "Of course I'm better than them!" she yelled incredulously. "I never said I wasn't, you idiot."

But that didn't mean ruining her chances at being normal didn't hurt. Every dumb naive stupid dream she'd had about being popular and loved had been dashed to bits in less than a week. Did he think her main concern was what those morons thought of her, personally?

"Well then why are you letting them get the best of you?" he shouted, a little annoyed. He was angry; angry that they had made her cry; angry that he had let them. "Why is it so important to you to fit in? To be one of them?"

He couldn't understand it. He had never wanted to fit in, to assimilate, to become one of the masses. Normal was overrated. Boring. Useless. One needed to evolve, to become better.

Special.

With every word, every second, Elle grew more and more flustered because he was asking all the right questions, all the questions she didn't like to dwell on, all the questions that led right into how fucked up she was. How fucked up her life was. She snapped. "Because it's never enough!" she screamed. "No matter what I do, no matter how special I am, I'm never enough for him! Here I don't have to be special, and people don't think I'm some sociopathic freak, and I thought they'd just like me for me, okay?"

She sucked in a shaky breath and took a step back, deflating and dropping her face into her hands.

"Nobody just likes you for you. It's the tough truth about high school, Elle." His voice was a little softer now, but his words still harsher than they could be. He hesitated for a moment before taking a step closer to her. He carefully pushed away her hands before cupping her face, forcing her to look up at him. "But you're not a freak. And if you care this much about what people think about you, you're not a sociopath. And I don't know who you're not pleasing, but you should just try to please yourself."

Easier said than done. After all, the reason he wanted so desperately to be special had a lot to do with his mother. But this wasn't about him.

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe him more than anything, but her first instinct was to disagree, to say no, to tell him he was wrong. It was just what her father had instilled in her: that she wasn't a normal girl, that she was a weapon, that she couldn't love or feel.

"I've killed people before," she hissed out, trying to prove it to him. "My grandma. My psychiatrists. My teachers," she listed disdainfully. "And I didn't even care."

"So?" He knew he should have been scared, or horrified by her news, but he wasn't. How many times had he fantasized or written about murdering someone he hated, scared counselors by how detailed his thoughts on it were? Could he really judge? She just did what he had been too afraid to go through with.

It kind of made him like her more.

She searched his eyes for the reaction that always, always came. Disgust, or horror, or pity, or something, but there wasn't anything changing in his dark, steady gaze, and it baffled her.

"I liked it," she added, almost desperately.

"What did it feel like?" he asked in a soft, intrigued voice. The fact that he was so interested in this part of her was probably a big give away that the things Christine and Jeremy had said about him were true. There was something wrong in his head.

She blinked at him, dumbfounded for a moment, and then leaned curiously into his hands, looking deeper into his eyes. The moment she realized the horror wasn't coming, she felt something right click inside of her. "You know when you kiss someone for the first time," she whispered, glancing down at his lips, "and your whole body feels alive? It's like that. Better."

"I've always wondered," he admitted softly, brushing his thumb against her cheek. He had never said that out loud to anyone, and with good reason, but she had shared her secret with him. He felt proud. He was right. She was special.

She let out a shaky breath through her parted lips, bringing her hands up to curl tightly into his shirt, and licked her lips instinctively at the feathering touch of his thumb. She felt enthralled by the darkness in his eyes, by the exchange; she was possessed by something wicked and freeing and primal all at the same time.

The stupid school and all the stupid people in it didn't matter in that moment, nothing did; he was special, like her. Maybe he didn't have powers, but he was special.

No one had ever thought how wonderful she felt about killing was a good thing. Not until now. Even if he was a jackass, the only thing she wanted to do was kiss him. Her entire body was practically humming for it again, and this time she wasn't nearly as confused.

"Now you know," she murmured.

Before anyone could come in here and interrupt their perfect moment he pressed her against one of the stalls, crushing his lips against hers. It didn't matter that they bickered or that she was annoying, none of that mattered right now. What mattered was that she was the first person...pretty much ever that he had felt such a strong connection to.

She let out a surprised squeak as he all but manhandled her against the nearest stall. She moaned and melted willingly against him as he kissed her, finally, their lips clashing. She did feel alive and she was thrumming for him all over as she opened her mouth on his and clung desperately to his shirt.

Just as he was about to deepen the kiss he heard the door open, and a disgusted voice spoke.

"She really is a slut. I mean, only someone with no standards would kiss a freak like Gabriel."

He growled, pulling away just enough to look at their intruder. Sandy.

Elle was flushed and angry when he pulled away, and she snapped her gaze towards Sandy murderously, and the extra cheerleader lackey following behind her. "He's not a freak," she hissed. "And the only slut here is you."

Sandy just laughed. "Whatever. I'm not the one who went down on Jeremy in the middle of a theater on the first date, just so you could get popular. That's both desperate and pathetic."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed in anger. "But I bet you wish you were. Everyone knows that Jeremy won't give you the time of day, no matter how hard you try. Who's really the pathetic one here?"

Bright red spread across Sandy's cheeks, her eyes flashing. "Was I talking to you, freak?" she snapped. "I'm head cheerleader; I don't need anyone's time of the day to be worth something," she said haughtily, defensively.

Elle smirked nastily and straightened. "As if you're worth shit," she retorted. "Cindy over here already told me the first day," she laughed, waving carelessly to the other girl. "Cheerleading initiation includes sleeping with the football team. When did you start? Ninth grade? No wonder not even Jeremy wants you. You're probably looser than a real whore."

"Do you realize who you're making an enemy of? What I could do to you, if I wanted?" Sandy threatened, looking utterly furious and enranged.

Gabriel just scoffed, more amused than anything else. "You're a head cheerleader. Don't act like you have any sort of real power."

"I own this school!" she retorted, hysterically angry. Obviously she wasn't used to anyone speaking to her so callously. "I'll ruin you both!"

Elle giggled and slipped away from Gabriel's side, her fingers twitching, her body filling with a rushing electrical current. If only. "Save your breath, Barbie. Or I'll save it for you."

"Ruin us both?" Gabriel scoffed a little. "As if this stupid school is that important. We're seniors, we're going to graduate and be awesome, this is probably as good as your life gets."

Elle cocked her head to the side and smiled sweetly, glancing back to Gabriel in smug amusement. "I'm already awesome," she quipped, and turned back to Sandy. "Poor Sandy. These are your glory days. Too bad, so sad."

Sandy huffed in anger before tugging at her friend's arm to leave. "Come on Cindy, let's go tell the principal that the new girl brought a boy into the girl's restroom."

One they left Gabriel stood there, suddenly awkward. The moment before, whatever had caused them to kiss briefly (too briefly), it was over now. What was he supposed to say?

Elle's smile dropped as they left, nervousness coiling up in her tummy. Daddy wasn't going to like this at all. She was going to get in so much trouble. What if he made her go back? She didn't want to go back to that awful boring place, not now. I was just--just starting to have fun, she thought, and looked back to Gabriel.

Not that the fun part had anything to do with him. She blushed, looking past him to the stall he'd pressed her up against. Obviously there was only one option here.

She straightened and lifted an eyebrow at him challengingly, placing her hands on her hips. "Well, are we skipping or not?"

So, she was putting off facing her dad. And she was making the situation worse by breaking more rules. But Elle didn't care.

"Might as well," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. If he was going to get in trouble anyway, he might as well make the most of it. He would deal with his mother's disappointed lectures about how he was better than things like this once he got home.

He glanced over at Elle, finding himself sort of disappointed that Sandy had interupted. Still, people kept walking in on them, ruining their moments. Maybe that was some kind of sign or something.

"Where do you want to go?"

She wasn't happy or anything he'd agreed to go, and she wrote off the smile she stifled as simply relief. Or something. It just was better than skipping alone, that was all.

"Who cares?" she asked and reached to grab his hand, walking briskly out the door and into the more or less empty halls. The bell had rung earlier. "Let's just go and see where we end up."

His heart didn't race at all when she grabbed his hand, it didn't. He didn't think that her tiny hand fit perfectly into his own larger one. It was just nice to have some human contact that wasn't his mother for once, that was all.

"Fine, I think I can manage that," he murmured. He normally liked to have things planned out, but he'd try it her way.

Elle flounced out the doors and down the steps, taking in a deep, savoring breath of spring air. She didn't look back to Gabriel, and she didn't try to decipher the tingle she felt in her fingers or the blush in her cheeks. Holding hands wasn't a big deal or anything.

Once they hit the concrete sidewalk, she let go, because she didn't want it to seem like it was. They'd kissed, so it was awkward, and she didn't want him to think she liked him like that or anything. She didn't.

"Let's go this way," she said spontaneously, and turned right. She wasn't familiar with the area, having just moved there, so everywhere would be something new.

As soon as she let go he found him stuffing both his hands into his pockets, as if he needed to just do something with them. "That works," he murmured, following her in the direction she chose.

It didn't mean anything that he was skipping school with her. He just didn't want to stay in that craphole today, that's all.

Elle pulled out her cell phone dutifully and turned the volume off, so she wouldn't have to pick it up when her Daddy started calling her. The silence started to grate on her; he was so quiet as they walked down the block, and after... stuff that had happened today it was ten times worse.

"So what's this way?" she blurted out.

"There's a park in this direction." He was kind of glad for the interruption. He was beginning to overthink, and that was no good. "Otherwise, this is mostly a residential area."

She perked up a little. "Are there swings?" she asked with a touch of excitement.

"There are." He raised a curious brow at her because of that question. "I take it you like the swings then? I'm not going to push you."

"I'm capable of swinging myself," she scoffed, and started to skip ahead with a burgeoning smile. "I haven't been on one in forever!"

"Just making sure, I didn't want you to get used to me doing things for you or anything like that," he mused, following her along.

She wasn't cute or anything, looking so excited over swings. She wasn't.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She slowed down, looking back at him with a raised brow. He told Jeremy off like, once. Did he want an award?

And maybe held her when she was crying.

And helped her tell off Sandy.

It wasn't like she asked him to do any of those things, though.

"What do you think it means?" he asked flippantly, taking long strides to walk a little past her now. It was true that she hadn't asked him to do any of those things, but he still wanted to make it clear that she shouldn't expect it of him.

She narrowed her eyes and quickened her pace, straining her smaller legs to keep up with him. "Well it sounds like you think you're some big impressive man doing me a bunch of favors." She could take care of herself. She didn't expect anything from him; she was a big girl.

"I have helped you out a few times now, you can't deny that," he countered with a smirk, shrugging his shoulders a little.

A soft, grunted ugh left her. He really thought he was something else, didn't he? "I can take care of myself," she said, offended. "I didn't need you to do anything for me." She'd just wanted him to care for a reason she didn't quite understand. "You just did it."

"Are you saying you would have been fine if I hadn't interfered last night? Because it didn't look like you were doing fine," he argued back. He was glad to protect her though, he kind of liked helping her, though he had no idea why it made him feel so good.

He had no idea how fine she would have been, and she crawled with growing anger. Why did he always know just what to say to get under her skin? "I was in a public movie theater," she protested. "I would have been just peachy, thank you. It doesn't take a genius to knee someone in the balls."

"Well then, why hadn't you done it already? Clearly, telling him to stop wasn't going to cut it," he snarked, more than just a little pleased by how upset she seemed to be getting. He really did like getting under her skin.

"I was getting to it before you showed up to play hero," she growled, and then brought her palms up to shove at his shoulder. He looked so damn smug and that annoyed her almost just as much as how he thought she was helpless or something.

"So should I just turn a blind eye if I ever see you in that sort of situation again?" he asked with a raised brow, stumbling back a little after she shoved him.

"No!" she said incredulously, disgusted at the thought. He was a jackass, but he wasn't like that, and the idea that he'd just go on with his dumb life while she was being attacked just made her feel... She didn't want to think about how she'd feel if he hadn't tried to interfere, and just sat there, watching the movie. "But you don't have to act like--like--stop--I can take care of myself!" she repeated, frustrated.

"I wasn't saying you couldn't take care of yourself," he said now, "I'm just saying you should remember you can, and not become dependent on me, that's all." He knew he was pouring it on a little strong right now, but he couldn't help it. Maybe he was trying to make up for kissing her earlier with being a jackass. He wasn't sure.

She gaped at him and then barked a laugh. Was this real life? Was he for real? What a dick. "Who do you think you are?" she asked, her voice high and loud. "Get over yourself! That's what you'd like, wouldn't you?" She lifted a finger and poked her at his chest. "You probably get off on girls needing you for anything because you're an insecure little boy."

"I don't need anyone to need me for anything," he growled, grabbing her wrist, pulling her in closer to him now, his face flushed in anger. He didn't need her. He didn't need anyone. He had always been just fine on his own. "You don't know a thing about me, so don't go jumping to any conclusions, and I'll try to do the same for you."

She tensed as his hand wrapped hard around her wrist, and she met his angry stare levelly with a sneer. She could shock him away, but she told herself it would be too dangerous, and that she could take it, even if it hurt a little. She wasn't weak. Her gaze darted around his wrathful expression, and a pit in the bottom of her tummy grew warm as she finally settled on glaring deep into his eyes.

"Oh, is that why you stalked your last girlfriend?" she couldn't help but ask in a heated, vindictive whisper. "Because you didn't need someone to justify your existence?" She rose on her tiptoes higher, entwining her other hand around his wrist, digging her nails into the plush skin. "How about I'll stop when you stop assuming your God's gift to me and the world?"

"I didn't stalk her, she always fucking exaggerates when she talks about that." He hissed in pain at her fingernails, causing him to tighten his grip a little more now. "I don't need anyone to justify my existence, and you would be lucky to have me." He sneered, dropping her hand, pulling away from her as he turned to walk away.

She glowered at his retreating back for a moment because she was angry, not because he'd thrown her off with such a stupid comment. Lucky? To have him? As if she even wanted him at all, in any way.

She clenched her fists and stalked after him, shoving past his shoulder in a juvenile rush of spite. "Don't make me laugh," she hissed. "You're so far out of my league you're not even playing the game."

Before he could think better of it, he found himself spilling out with the first comeback that came to his mind. "Yeah, well if I'm so out of our your league, then how come you melted so completely when I kissed you?"

White-hot embarrassment flushed her face, mixing and fueling her anger. She spun around and hold her hands out to push his chest viciously as he walked forward.

She didn't melt.

"If that's what you call a kiss," she taunted. "It was pathetic and so are you!" she snapped childishly.

"If I'm so pathetic, then why do you keep following me? Why don't you just walk away? If I'm pathetic, what does that make you?" he snapped, resisting the sudden urge he had to kiss her again, to prove to her just how good at it he could be.

She growled, ignoring the truth that she was following him, and she hadn't just walked away yet. She didn't know why she hadn't, but fine then. That could change.

"A lot better than you," she hissed. "You're right. Bye." She turned on her heel and kept walking. She'd go to the stupid park and skip alone if he was going to be like that.

He frowned as he watched her walk off. If she thought he was going to follow her, she was wrong. He'd just go to the library or something to spend the rest of his afternoon. He didn't need her. He ignored the twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach as he headed off in the opposite direction.

That connection they had shared earlier, it had just been a fleeting moment. He had been foolish to think he had found some sort of kindred spirit in her. He'd make sure he didn't make the same mistake twice.

She felt an odd aching emptiness in her chest as her heels clicked against the concrete, her moment of victory fading. She looked back over her shoulder and hated herself for it, hated him because he was making her do it, somehow. And hated him even more when she realized he was just walking away.

She snapped her head back forward and wrapped her arms around her waist.

It wasn't like she wanted him to follow her. She was sure she never wanted to see or talk to him ever again. She'd been stupid to think for even a second they had anything in common, and she didn't even care now.

She told herself she felt like shit because she was in trouble, because her efforts to be normal had failed. It wasn't about Gabriel at all.