Seeing Stars 8: Star Bright
Days passed, then a couple of weeks. Peter didn't keep track of the days, but he assumed Gabriel did. He was pretty sure it hadn't been a month yet. They were still all over each other, as new lovers often were. They banged on the wall when they weren't banging each other. Peter taught Gabriel things in bed (even the non-beginner moves); Gabriel taught Peter a few things in the kitchen (including what binder was). They had spent this particular morning hammering, stopping frequently to tell jokes (in Gabriel's case) or short paramedic stories (in Peter's).
Gabriel stopped working. "Lunchtime, man," he said, waiting for Peter to pause.
"It sounds a little-" swing, "different-" swing. He felt like he was getting somewhere, like something was going to happen. Of course he'd thought that for a long time now, ever since they'd come back to the wall after Peter had spent the night and found some of the bricks actually loose in the mortar. But frustratingly, none would actually come out. Something was holding them back and keeping them here. Peter was beginning to think it wasn't him.
He'd been straining his senses, what he imagined to be Matt's ability, every day that they came down here. Every time a bit of mortar crumbled, he felt something deep inside. He was feeling it now, a strange tingle and a sense of anticipation. He swung harder. He'd be taking a break in a moment anyway so there was no reason not to push himself now. He'd tried visualization exercises, but they didn't seem to do any better than sheer brute force, which was at least satisfying in a small way.
Gabriel sighed and turned, leaning against the wall where he used to rest while Peter worked. He stared off down the alley, an introspective expression on his face. He seemed as lost in deep thoughts as Peter was in physical labor. Peter glanced at him a few times, but said nothing. He suspected that whatever Gabe was thinking was why Peter felt like something was about to give. Gabriel looked down, studying the ground. Peter went back to watching how he handled the hammer, especially reluctant to take a break now that it seemed like his partner was on the edge of something. Gabriel started to speak, then cleared his throat and tried again. "I believe you."
Peter glanced over at him, trying to make sense of what he meant. What was it he believed?
Gabriel went on as if talking to himself, staring at the ground, voice hollow. "I think you're sincere. That you're … sorry." He kicked at the ground with the toe of one foot. He sighed again, deeper than before. "Thank you," he said softly, but clearly, raising his voice a little to be positive he was heard over the thumping smack of the hammer on brick. "I accept your apology. What's done is done." He nodded to himself, straightening from where he'd been leaning on the wall, standing tall. "It's over. It's the past. We have the future now."
'The future'. 'We'. That was what Gabriel believed and it all made sense to Peter in an instant. It wasn't just the apology; it was Peter being with Gabriel, what with the watchmaker still concerned that Peter was only servicing him with the intent of manipulating Gabriel into serving Peter's goals. That Gabriel thought it might all be a sham stung Peter to the core every time they were together. Peter took it as the penance for what he'd done to Sylar over the years and the cost of his failure to reach out to the man years before when he needed it.
Peter paused in his work to regard Gabriel. "We have a future," Peter stated as an indisputable fact, putting emphasis on the two of them together. Gabriel nodded in agreement. Peter snorted softly in defiance of doubt and drew back the hammer for his next swing. A sound that he felt inside his head and across his skin as much as he heard with his ears startled him back, making him half drop the tool from suddenly nerveless fingers. He gaped at the wall as it cracked with a noise like a stroke of lightning, the sound echoing off the alley walls like thunder.
Peter gasped and jumped back, then forward to haul Gabriel away from it in case it collapsed. Bits of mortar rained down from the seam that split it from base to crown, but the wall otherwise held firm. Well, Peter thought with satisfaction and awe, I guess that was what I was feeling was going to happen. They both stared up at the barrier: Peter in wonderment; Gabriel in dawning horror. "No," Gabriel whispered as the rumbling faded into silence.
Peter blinked suddenly and looked at him in consternation. The tingle inside, the lingering echo of Matt's ability, went quiet. Peter grasped after it mentally, but it was out of his reach. A yawning pit instead opened in his gut. He'd been right - it wasn't him holding them here.
"No. No!" Gabriel's voice rose in alarm and he moved between Peter and the wall, as if to physically prevent Peter from hitting it again. He held his arms out as if to block him, face frightened and wretched.
Peter backed off just from looking at him. He stared at Gabriel in confusion. The other man followed him the few steps and reached out, snatching the hammer away from him. After a token resistance, Peter let him take it. He searched Gabriel's face, but he knew he was right - Gabriel didn't want to leave. He'd found love here and freedom from the oppression of his ability. There was quite literally nothing that he wanted in the world outside - no friends, no family, no future. And if he let Peter out, there would be nothing for him here either. Peter felt a stabbing, sympathetic pain for Gabriel's dilemma.
Peter swallowed roughly, looking past him at the half-inch wide crack that rent the wall. It was so tantalizingly close, like all he might need to do was give it the right shove. I was getting somewhere. We are getting somewhere. You can't live in here forever, he thought in reference to his partner. Don't give up now, Peter urged had seen his look at the wall and bared his teeth in response, putting his hands out to the side as if trying to conjure telekinesis against him. Peter registered that Gabriel was willing to fight to keep him. The realization chased away the chill that was threatening his heart.
Fighting isn't the answer. Maybe I can show him a different way. Peter raised his own hands slightly in surrender. "You said you believed me," Peter said with earnest imploring. "Please believe me now when I say that things aren't going to be any different when we get out. None of this was a lie. You don't have to save anyone, or be anything that you aren't."
Gabriel glared at him, an expression that eventually faltered as Peter did nothing other than let his hands fall slowly back to his sides. Gabriel sagged, looking down at the ground and breathing heavily. He commanded, "Stay away from the wall, Peter," and looked up at him again from under his brows. Peter met the menacing gaze, then looked to the wall beyond. He nodded and as he did, a handful more mortar bits fell down from the crack. Gabriel wheeled and looked at it in fear, but nothing else happened. The man threw down the hammer with a frustrated, angry noise. "Get away from here!" he snarled over his shoulder.
Peter turned and walked away, leaving Gabriel to guard the wall from him. I don't need the hammer anymore.He was sure of it.
Peter stayed out the rest of the day, wandering around, poking into places he hadn't seen before. He had a feeling he wouldn't be seeing them again. Things were on a cusp. The very air seemed to tingle around him. He felt like he had a lot of thinking to do, but it was tough to actually "think" it. What was he going to do? How much time had passed in the real world? Would they still be able to get to the carnival in time? Would Gabriel help him? What could he do to convince Gabriel that things would be okay when they got out? He could come up with the questions, but the answers all depended on Gabriel. There was little that Peter himself could do.
Gabriel wasn't at his apartment that evening. Peter went inside and made dinner. They'd been cohabitating almost continually since they'd started having sex. Cooking one meal and splitting it was a natural evolution of sharing time together. Peter waited until dinner was cold, then put it away. He put on his jacket, picked up something he'd found whilst roaming about, and went down to the wall. He'd been told to stay away and he had. He wasn't going to the wall - he was going to see Gabriel, even if all he did was tug the man back to the apartment so he could warm up the food for him. Peter smiled a little, thinking about all those times when Sylar had lured him away with promises of dinner and conversation. Their roles had flipped.
He saw Gabriel sitting in the dimness, facing the wall, legs crossed with his arms wrapped pensively around them. Peter walked up on him with steady strides, but Gabriel gave no reaction even though he had to hear him coming. Peter wondered and worried about that, but he didn't know what to make of it. He tapped the man's far shoulder playfully and then switched, tossing his package over the other and into Gabriel's lap.
"Happy birthday," Peter joked over his shoulder as he walked on past, moving to stand between the sitting man and wall. Peter gave it a once-over, but it was as it had been at noon. Peter turned his back on the wall. It wasn't what he'd come for. Gabriel was watching him with wide eyes. When Peter turned to face him, Gabriel blinked away and looked at the wrapped package instead.
"It's not my birthday," Gabriel pointed out in a hollow voice.
"Yeah, I know." Peter smiled warmly. He's always so literal. His chest felt tight at how impossible Gabriel was at times. If he got stuck here with the man … well, there were worse fates. Hopefully someone else would step up to save Emma and the rest. Peter's expression faded as he examined the surprising intensity of his feeling. Oh wow. He looked at Gabriel with new eyes as the man unwrapped the book and took it in. Have things ever changed. Peter hadn't realized how far his acceptance and affection had gone. He'd wanted it to mean something, but he hadn't thought it would mean … what it did. His heart hammered in his chest. "Y-you just wore out your other copy and … I saw that one digging around." He almost stuttered through the delivery, falling silent afterward.
Gabriel's eyes rose to Peter's face, then dropped back to the book. He looked like his soul had been stripped bare, now that Peter really looked at him. So much emotion, mixed and desperate and devoid of hope was on his face. "That's very kind of you, Peter. Thank you." He hesitated for a long moment, looking down with his shoulders drawn inward, like he was being weighted down by a great burden. "You've always been very kind."
Peter knew at that moment that Gabriel was aware it was he who was keeping them both there. That was the burden pressing down on the man. Guilt. Peter blinked and looked away. He knew of no way to ease it, or lift it, or share it. He wouldn't lie and say he wanted to stay, because he didn't. Peter wanted the world. He wanted to make a difference and be special in his own way: helping people. He wanted Gabriel to do the same. He looked at the hammer still lying on the ground where Gabriel had thrown it. He didn't think it would help. The wall was all a metaphor anyway - he'd figured that out a long time ago but it hadn't stopped him from hammering on the damn thing. If anything, it had only made him more determined.
Gabriel rose as if threatened by that single glance, setting the book to the side for the moment. Peter cooperated by moving away from the tool. He looked aside and down, making a small gesture of acquiescence. Gabriel sighed at that, accepting that he'd overreacted. The man walked to the wall, putting his hands on either side of the crack. He stared straight ahead at it. He spoke like he was delivering a eulogy. "I've been thinking … I'm sorry … for what I've taken from you … and the things that I've done."
Peter was a little surprised the wall didn't vanish then and there, or collapse, or whatever it was going to do. He hadn't come here expecting anything at all, except to find Gabriel and try to get him to come away. Peter wanted to leave - yes - but he knew that wasn't a decision he got to make and he was at peace with that. If Gabriel wasn't ready to leave, then so be it. Peter would wait until he was.
But Gabriel wasn't finished. He looked down at the ground, fingers moving restlessly along the brick. "I understand now what you meant about the stupid apology game." He pushed off from the wall and looked up towards the top, eyes very wide and soulful. He looked almost like he was appealing to God. Peter blinked and followed his gaze heavenward briefly, then looked back to Gabriel as he kept speaking. "It's not stupid; it's not a game. If I could go back and I was in the exact same situation, the same circumstances," he turned and looked at Peter, "I'd find another way. I did wrong - before." He swallowed and regarded the wall once more as if expecting something to happen. Peter felt it, too - the whole world was warping. It had never felt so unreal. Gabriel offered, his voice rough, "That's my confession." He sniffled and Peter took a step towards him. Gabriel held him off with a raised hand. "And here's my contrition: I won't keep you here."
Peter pulled in a deep breath, his own eyes watering. The smell of drying masonry had never been so clear. He could almost feel his body in Matt's basement. He blinked, struggling to stay in the dream for a moment more, even as he could feel it slipping away. He stumblingly tried to walk towards Gabriel, extending his hand. Gabriel looked at him with a sad resignation. He was still in Matt's nightmare prison, but Peter could feel everything unraveling. Fear sank its claws into him with the knowledge that Gabriel might not come with him.
Peter struggled forward with all his might, relieved when his hand closed firmly on the other man's shoulder, backed by more conviction than Peter had ever felt for saving anyone. "Come with me," Peter said, but although the air was still, it was as though his words were being whipped away by the wind. He wouldn't go alone. He wouldn't go without Gabriel. Peter resolved that in his mind, trying to summon every shred of Matt's power to keep them together. "I lo-"
There was a blinding light, like the glitches in time and space that Peter had felt when he'd first walked in this dream world, before he'd found Sylar here. His eyes flew open and he was in Matt's basement, a whirling telepathic awareness thrumming around him. He clambered to his feet, turning immediately to the now-finished brick wall. He went to it, sensing Gabriel behind it, feeling his mind and hearing him wake. Thank God, he thought, feeling the knot in his chest ease. His fingers clutched at the wall as if wanting to dig through it. Gabriel? he projected, hoping the other man could hear him as he put his ear to the wall and listened.
Get back! was the reply. There was a faint rumble and for a moment, Peter glimpsed Gabriel's awareness of the tendrils of telekinetic power he was harnessing, pulling together, and beginning to direct at the barrier.
Peter scrambled away, shutting off the telepathy for the moment, barely escaping the muffled explosion as the juggernaut who might be Sylar was unleashed on the world again. Peter coughed roughly and got back to his feet, turning to see Gabriel exit his prison, hitting his head on a jutting brick as he did. The responsibility for his act in freeing this man loomed large in Peter's mind. It was a risk he would take though, and gladly.
"How long has it been, really?" Gabriel asked, obviously trying to orient himself as his view of reality shifted and solidified.
Peter looked at his watch. It was working now. He felt a pang of annoyance at that. Part of him (a small, irresponsible part) had preferred living in nowhen, where the only meaningful passage of time was marked by what happened between the two of them. Now they lived on everyone's time, not just their own. "Half a day, maybe." He looked up at Gabriel and assessed him, a lop-sided smile on his face. He came with me! He didn't have to. But he did!
"Feels like we were in there for years," Gabriel said, an edge of distrust heavy in his voice. His eyes searched Peter's face repeatedly.
"Yup," Peter said, regarding the man like he was trying to commit his face to memory - which he was. There were subtle differences to reality. A few hours ago, this had been his enemy. They weren't in a dream anymore and things … things were different. All of the events, everything that had happened in that nightmare had a skein of unreality now, like they'd woke up from a very long, shared illusion. God - I hope this is all going to be okay. I don't ask You for things very often, but let this work! His face sobered.
"Does that make it any less real?" Gabriel asked, and Peter knew what he was really asking even though he wasn't reading the man's mind at the moment: was anything that had passed between - the affection, the relationship, the promises - was it real?
That, at least, Peter could answer. The events were hazy and getting hazier by the second, but the emotion was strong and true in his heart. He brought up Matt's power in his mind and activated it. He reached out mentally and clumsily touched Gabriel's thoughts. He wished he could share his feelings and not just his mental words, but he'd never been especially astute with any of his powers. You hear me?
Yeah, Gabriel replied hesitantly in his head. A faint layering of lust for that ability slithered in the back of Gabriel's mind. He, on the other hand, would wield telepathy like a scalpel instead of the butter knife it was in Peter's hands - and he knew it. The former killer ignored the urge determinedly.
I'm with you, Peter projected, with the mental conversation happening faster than verbal ever could. Peter was hearing Gabriel's every thought, but Gabriel only heard those thoughts Peter chose to send to him. It was real. But I have to leave. I have to go to the carnival and stop Samuel.
You're not going to leave me!
Peter gave a mental sigh. It wasn't … ideal. And here was the first intrusion of the real world. He couldn't ask Gabriel to go without it seeming like he'd lied when he said the man's help wasn't required. But Peter wasn't going to fail to try on his own. There was still time. Thousands of lives hung in the balance. There had to be something Peter could do to help on his own. I'll find you after. I promise.
There was a brief pause as Gabriel processed, sorting through what he knew of Peter's motivations. The opportunity to save people was dangling before the empath and Peter could no more deny it than a year or two before, Gabriel had been able to turn away from an offered ability. This was Peter's version of the Hunger, strong enough to make him run out on someone whose worst fear was being left alone. Gabriel could hate him for that … or show Peter that he'd learned a thing or two in that mental prison they'd just escaped. You are such a hero, Peter. If Peter hadn't been reading Gabriel's mind, he wouldn't have caught the fond exasperation in the man's tone. Some day we're going to have to do something about that fixation of yours.
A bit of a smile teased across Peter's face. Yeah, well, I like saving people. I think you would too, if you'd try it, he offered hopefully.
Gabriel answered immediately, I'm going with you.
Peter's smile firmed. Things might work out after all. "Let's go save Emma," he said aloud.