the_muses_stage "Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened."
“Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.” - Dr. Seuss
Gabriel had always tried to put off the thought that both he and Peter would outlive their children, and almost everyone else they knew. He knew it all along that they would, but he always put it out of his mind, focusing on the fact that they were there.
He was sitting on the steps of Sacre Cæur, having told Peter that he needed some time alone to think and to grieve, because he was never one who could grieve in front of others. When his Mother had died, despite Peter being there for him if he needed anything he closed himself off, not wanting to talk about it, his feelings, or anything really. He instead went to their Paris apartment for a long weekend where he would have time to deal with it on his own and in his own way, and because of that, this time Peter was even more understanding than before. He didn’t plan on staying long this time though as it was their child, and Peter was more open with his grieving. It was his duty to be there for him, this time; he just needed a few hours on his own.
They hadn’t had any more children after Rueben and Rebecca. They had forever, after all, they could take it a little at a time. Spacing it out throughout their life. It felt right, the way that they had done it, taking in children of parents with abilities, because they couldn’t be given to just anyone, after all. What if one of them could create vortexes? He’d read about a man who could do that in one of the companies files, and he could only imagine how horrifying would be if your child suddenly created a vortex that sucked all the contents of a room in, especially if you knew nothing of abilities yourself. They could handle it though, and were willing to.
He swallowed thickly as he stared out across the city and its blinking lights, memories flooding back to him of the times that they had spent there throughout the years. He remembered when the twins were five, and they had decided to spend the entire summer there. They were teaching them the language and both were becoming quite fluent in it. Rebecca had always been the bolder of the two, at least when it came to talking to strangers, and she had wrenched her hand out of his and rushed over to an elderly man, and started to babble to him in French. The poor man looked utterly confused and bewildered, which was understandable, because soon they found out that he was an American tourist, and the only French he knew was ‘Bonjour’ and ‘Merci’.
He remembered coming to visit Rebecca when she was 20 and doing a semester of college in Paris, and how he’d almost had a heart attack when he found out that she was living with a man and hadn’t told them about it. Later it turned out that he was gay and studying design at the same school as she was, but that didn’t help turn back time and change the way that he had first reacted, because after all, just because his little girl was growing up didn’t mean that he was prepared to accept that fact.
This city held so many memories for them as a family, and he was glad to have each and every one of them.
He sighed heavily as he looked out over it again, and though a tear slid down his cheek as he thought back upon it all, there was a smile on his face at the same time. As the bells tolled he got up from where he was sitting, and with a final glance disappeared, reappearing in the front hall of the home he shared with Peter.
He shrugged off his jacket and stepped out of his shoes before heading into the living room, a soft sigh passing his lips when he saw Peter sitting on the couch with a book of photographs. He slowly moved up to him and leaned down, hugging him from behind.
“We did alright,” he whispered softly, smiling when Peter turned to him and gave a soft laugh, despite the obvious sadness on his face.
“Yeah…I guess we did.”
Gabriel had always tried to put off the thought that both he and Peter would outlive their children, and almost everyone else they knew. He knew it all along that they would, but he always put it out of his mind, focusing on the fact that they were there.
He was sitting on the steps of Sacre Cæur, having told Peter that he needed some time alone to think and to grieve, because he was never one who could grieve in front of others. When his Mother had died, despite Peter being there for him if he needed anything he closed himself off, not wanting to talk about it, his feelings, or anything really. He instead went to their Paris apartment for a long weekend where he would have time to deal with it on his own and in his own way, and because of that, this time Peter was even more understanding than before. He didn’t plan on staying long this time though as it was their child, and Peter was more open with his grieving. It was his duty to be there for him, this time; he just needed a few hours on his own.
They hadn’t had any more children after Rueben and Rebecca. They had forever, after all, they could take it a little at a time. Spacing it out throughout their life. It felt right, the way that they had done it, taking in children of parents with abilities, because they couldn’t be given to just anyone, after all. What if one of them could create vortexes? He’d read about a man who could do that in one of the companies files, and he could only imagine how horrifying would be if your child suddenly created a vortex that sucked all the contents of a room in, especially if you knew nothing of abilities yourself. They could handle it though, and were willing to.
He swallowed thickly as he stared out across the city and its blinking lights, memories flooding back to him of the times that they had spent there throughout the years. He remembered when the twins were five, and they had decided to spend the entire summer there. They were teaching them the language and both were becoming quite fluent in it. Rebecca had always been the bolder of the two, at least when it came to talking to strangers, and she had wrenched her hand out of his and rushed over to an elderly man, and started to babble to him in French. The poor man looked utterly confused and bewildered, which was understandable, because soon they found out that he was an American tourist, and the only French he knew was ‘Bonjour’ and ‘Merci’.
He remembered coming to visit Rebecca when she was 20 and doing a semester of college in Paris, and how he’d almost had a heart attack when he found out that she was living with a man and hadn’t told them about it. Later it turned out that he was gay and studying design at the same school as she was, but that didn’t help turn back time and change the way that he had first reacted, because after all, just because his little girl was growing up didn’t mean that he was prepared to accept that fact.
This city held so many memories for them as a family, and he was glad to have each and every one of them.
He sighed heavily as he looked out over it again, and though a tear slid down his cheek as he thought back upon it all, there was a smile on his face at the same time. As the bells tolled he got up from where he was sitting, and with a final glance disappeared, reappearing in the front hall of the home he shared with Peter.
He shrugged off his jacket and stepped out of his shoes before heading into the living room, a soft sigh passing his lips when he saw Peter sitting on the couch with a book of photographs. He slowly moved up to him and leaned down, hugging him from behind.
“We did alright,” he whispered softly, smiling when Peter turned to him and gave a soft laugh, despite the obvious sadness on his face.
“Yeah…I guess we did.”