(no subject)
Reason
by Harikari
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Part Four
"Sarah," repeated Mohinder. His voice was steady. "She found her pet cat dead in her driveway."
Gabriel didn't back away, didn't stop gazing directly and heatedly into his best friend's eyes. "I heard," he said. "I've been hearing about it all day. What about it, Mohinder?" His voice was low, almost dangerous sounding.
"I..." began the eighth grader. But then he faltered. Took in a deep breath and stared at his friend.
My friend, he thought. And a horrible guilt abruptly overtook him. Gabriel was his friend. His best friend. He had no right to do what he was in the middle of doing. Had no right to accuse the teenager of something so terrible, had no real call to even ask him about it.
Gabriel shouldn't have threatened Sarah, true. And Matt wasn't a bully, no. But that didn't mean that what the football player had said and implied, what he believed (that Gabriel had actually murdered a house pet) was the truth.
Mohinder took in the sight of his friend. Gabriel was still close. Was still looming over him (despite being younger he stood a few inches taller than the eighth grader), his dark eyes narrow behind his square glasses (though as Mohinder continued to stare his eyes seemed to soften slightly). His clothes were pristine, his hair was combed and neatly parted into its usual style.
"Matt," he sighed after a long pause. "Matt Parkman. This morning in class he told me about it. About Sarah. And..." He trailed off. Bit hard at his bottom lip.
There was a pause. A beat of silence between the two friends.
And then Gabriel sighed. "Matt," he hissed. Then, "Mohinder. You don't..." Another pause. "I know what they're all saying about me. I know..." He stopped, seemed at a loss. Seemed to be pondering over what to say next.
The eighth grader felt the already present guilt rise up in his throat. Judging from what he had been hearing all day in his classes and from Gabriel's immediate and somewhat angry reaction to his 'did you hear about Sarah Ellis's cat', his best friend had doubtlessly been harassed all day. Would continue to be harassed after lunch.
"I'm sorry," said Mohinder before the other boy could continue. "I know you confronted Sarah and I know what you said to her. And you shouldn't have done that but...I shouldn't have just come out and asked you about her -- about all of it -- like that. Like I was accusing you. I know you. I know you wouldn't..." He couldn't finish it, swallowed hard.
The lost and slightly hurt expression gracing Gabriel's face faded, shifted into something that looked surprised, pleased.
He reached out, grasped at Mohinder's forearm. Then, as if suddenly realizing something, he frowned. Asked, "Matt and the others didn't tell you anything, did they? Didn't bother you?"
Mohinder shook his head. "No," he said. "I'm okay. Matt just...he just mentioned what happened to Sarah's cat, mentioned you." He looked up at his friend. Their eyes met again. "We're okay? You're not going to confront someone about me behind my back like that and I'm not going to accuse you of anything ridiculous anymore, right?"
The grip on his forearm tightened. "We're good," offered Gabriel, his mouth turning up in a smile.
-----
They were sprawled on Mohinder's couch, already dressed in their pajamas (t-shirts and sweat pants) and absorbed in the action movie flashing across the television screen, the popcorn they were stuffing into their mouths.
It was the weekend following the week of the Sarah Ellis incident and Gabriel's mother had finally caved. She had given her son permission to stay the night at his friend's apartment. Mohinder's mother was already asleep in the other room. It was late, after midnight.
"Where is your dad, anyway?" asked Gabriel when the gunfire and explosions on the screen wound down, switched to dialogue and sappy background music. It was the stereotypical, pseudo touching scene before the end of the movie.
"I'm not sure. A place called...Claddagh, I think," answered the eighth grader as he moved into a more comfortable position (his head at one end of the couch, his feet resting across his friend's lap -- Gabriel snorted, but didn't shove his legs away).
"Your dad. He's gone a lot," stated Gabriel. He was staring at the television as he said it, but appeared to be lost in thought.
"On business," agreed Mohinder. "He's always away on business. He works for...some company. He's a scientist, you know that."
"Yeah. But what does he do? What does the company do?"
Tired, Mohinder closed his eyes. "I don't know," he yawned. "I've never really talked to him about the specifics. He's a geneticist. I know that."
He felt it as his friend wrapped fingers tightly around his ankle. "I just..." continued Gabriel. "I wonder what he does, what the company he works for does...why he's always leaving you?"
Mohinder didn't answer. "You know," he said after a long moment. "I've been thinking about Sarah." Gabriel groaned and the eighth grader, without opening his eyes, kicked at him before settling again. "I don't understand how someone could do what they did to Fluffy. I mean how could someone do that? Why would someone do that? Something so sick. I don't understand."
It was, apparently, Gabriel's turn not to acknowledge a question.
They stayed where they were for a stretch of minutes, listening to the song coming from the television's speakers as the movie's credits rolled. Feeling each other's breathing.
"I'm sure whoever did it had their reasons. Or reason. A good reason," came Gabriel's voice just as Mohinder was falling into sleep.
"Hmmm," said Mohinder, because he knew in the depths of his mind that what his best friend was saying was important. Very important. And frightening. But at the same time he was tired, on the verge of dreams, comfortable and safe.
He felt movement (Gabriel shifting), then a moist pressure on his cheek (a kiss, he vaguely noted) before he dropped off.
Part Five
by Harikari
-----
Part Four
"Sarah," repeated Mohinder. His voice was steady. "She found her pet cat dead in her driveway."
Gabriel didn't back away, didn't stop gazing directly and heatedly into his best friend's eyes. "I heard," he said. "I've been hearing about it all day. What about it, Mohinder?" His voice was low, almost dangerous sounding.
"I..." began the eighth grader. But then he faltered. Took in a deep breath and stared at his friend.
My friend, he thought. And a horrible guilt abruptly overtook him. Gabriel was his friend. His best friend. He had no right to do what he was in the middle of doing. Had no right to accuse the teenager of something so terrible, had no real call to even ask him about it.
Gabriel shouldn't have threatened Sarah, true. And Matt wasn't a bully, no. But that didn't mean that what the football player had said and implied, what he believed (that Gabriel had actually murdered a house pet) was the truth.
Mohinder took in the sight of his friend. Gabriel was still close. Was still looming over him (despite being younger he stood a few inches taller than the eighth grader), his dark eyes narrow behind his square glasses (though as Mohinder continued to stare his eyes seemed to soften slightly). His clothes were pristine, his hair was combed and neatly parted into its usual style.
"Matt," he sighed after a long pause. "Matt Parkman. This morning in class he told me about it. About Sarah. And..." He trailed off. Bit hard at his bottom lip.
There was a pause. A beat of silence between the two friends.
And then Gabriel sighed. "Matt," he hissed. Then, "Mohinder. You don't..." Another pause. "I know what they're all saying about me. I know..." He stopped, seemed at a loss. Seemed to be pondering over what to say next.
The eighth grader felt the already present guilt rise up in his throat. Judging from what he had been hearing all day in his classes and from Gabriel's immediate and somewhat angry reaction to his 'did you hear about Sarah Ellis's cat', his best friend had doubtlessly been harassed all day. Would continue to be harassed after lunch.
"I'm sorry," said Mohinder before the other boy could continue. "I know you confronted Sarah and I know what you said to her. And you shouldn't have done that but...I shouldn't have just come out and asked you about her -- about all of it -- like that. Like I was accusing you. I know you. I know you wouldn't..." He couldn't finish it, swallowed hard.
The lost and slightly hurt expression gracing Gabriel's face faded, shifted into something that looked surprised, pleased.
He reached out, grasped at Mohinder's forearm. Then, as if suddenly realizing something, he frowned. Asked, "Matt and the others didn't tell you anything, did they? Didn't bother you?"
Mohinder shook his head. "No," he said. "I'm okay. Matt just...he just mentioned what happened to Sarah's cat, mentioned you." He looked up at his friend. Their eyes met again. "We're okay? You're not going to confront someone about me behind my back like that and I'm not going to accuse you of anything ridiculous anymore, right?"
The grip on his forearm tightened. "We're good," offered Gabriel, his mouth turning up in a smile.
-----
They were sprawled on Mohinder's couch, already dressed in their pajamas (t-shirts and sweat pants) and absorbed in the action movie flashing across the television screen, the popcorn they were stuffing into their mouths.
It was the weekend following the week of the Sarah Ellis incident and Gabriel's mother had finally caved. She had given her son permission to stay the night at his friend's apartment. Mohinder's mother was already asleep in the other room. It was late, after midnight.
"Where is your dad, anyway?" asked Gabriel when the gunfire and explosions on the screen wound down, switched to dialogue and sappy background music. It was the stereotypical, pseudo touching scene before the end of the movie.
"I'm not sure. A place called...Claddagh, I think," answered the eighth grader as he moved into a more comfortable position (his head at one end of the couch, his feet resting across his friend's lap -- Gabriel snorted, but didn't shove his legs away).
"Your dad. He's gone a lot," stated Gabriel. He was staring at the television as he said it, but appeared to be lost in thought.
"On business," agreed Mohinder. "He's always away on business. He works for...some company. He's a scientist, you know that."
"Yeah. But what does he do? What does the company do?"
Tired, Mohinder closed his eyes. "I don't know," he yawned. "I've never really talked to him about the specifics. He's a geneticist. I know that."
He felt it as his friend wrapped fingers tightly around his ankle. "I just..." continued Gabriel. "I wonder what he does, what the company he works for does...why he's always leaving you?"
Mohinder didn't answer. "You know," he said after a long moment. "I've been thinking about Sarah." Gabriel groaned and the eighth grader, without opening his eyes, kicked at him before settling again. "I don't understand how someone could do what they did to Fluffy. I mean how could someone do that? Why would someone do that? Something so sick. I don't understand."
It was, apparently, Gabriel's turn not to acknowledge a question.
They stayed where they were for a stretch of minutes, listening to the song coming from the television's speakers as the movie's credits rolled. Feeling each other's breathing.
"I'm sure whoever did it had their reasons. Or reason. A good reason," came Gabriel's voice just as Mohinder was falling into sleep.
"Hmmm," said Mohinder, because he knew in the depths of his mind that what his best friend was saying was important. Very important. And frightening. But at the same time he was tired, on the verge of dreams, comfortable and safe.
He felt movement (Gabriel shifting), then a moist pressure on his cheek (a kiss, he vaguely noted) before he dropped off.
Part Five