Forgive Me (Fiction)
“What do we do now?” Gabriel asked, as he watched Claire talk to the swarm of news reporters.
“Let’s go home,” Peter said, grabbing Gabriel’s hand and tugging him along.
“But I don’t have a home,” Gabriel said softly. Peter looked back at Gabriel,
“Yes you do.”
“I know it’s not much,” Peter said as they entered his… their apartment, “but it should house the both of us just fine until you can get your own place. Plus, tomorrow I’ll buy some, you know, furniture.” Gabriel looked around at the near empty apartment before turning back towards Peter,
“Thank you, Peter. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.” Peter just waved away his thanks.
“It’s no problem,” he said. “Now, you don’t mind sharing the bed, right?”
The first thing Peter noticed when he woke up was that Gabriel was missing from the bed. The second thing Peter noticed was that there was a rather delicious smell wafting through the air. Peter got out of his bed and went looking for the source of the smell. His nose eventually led him to the kitchen, where he saw Gabriel cooking breakfast, as well as two lawn chairs and a portable table. Gabriel turned around to put some finished bacon on a plate. He spotted Peter and grinned, “I made breakfast,” Gabriel said, though it was obvious. “There are eggs, potatoes, toast, and bacon…. Oh! And orange juice. You like that stuff, right?” Peter nodded,
“Yeah. Thanks, Gabriel.” Gabriel ushered Peter into one of the chairs and set a plate of food in front of him before serving himself. Peter was suddenly plagued with the image of Gabriel in an apron and glasses, making waffles for his son… Peter pushed away that thought, the memory still bringing him some pain.
“How’d you get all this stuff, anyways?” Peter asked between mouthfuls.
“I just happened to wake up early, so I went shopping. I guess you aren’t home very often, since you didn’t have any food in the house.”
“I work a lot. Also, I usually have to save the world and whatnot.” Gabriel chuckled slightly,
“Hopefully, you’ll get a break from the latter, now that Samuel has been arrested and I’m not, well, killing anymore.”
“We’ll see. We might see a repeat of Na… Danko’s little Nazi regime.” Gabriel frowned a bit at Peter’s choice of words, but didn’t say anything about it,
“I hope not… You know, I can drop by Pier One for you, while you’re at work.”
“Pier One?” Peter had never heard of it.
“It’s a furniture store,” Gabriel explained.
“Oh. You don’t have to, but you can, if you want.”
“What else am I going to do today?” Peter shrugged,
“True. I’ll leave some money for you.” Gabriel shook his head,
“No need. I can turn things into gold. I’ve got plenty of money.”
Peter stared, mouth agape, at his newly furnished apartment. He poked his head back out the door, to check the address, just in case he entered the wrong apartment. “Gabriel!” Peter called. Gabriel came out from the bedroom. He was sweating and panting slightly.
“Oh, hi Peter. Do you like it? I didn’t know what your style was, so I just guessed.”
“You did all this in one day?” Gabriel glanced at his watch, before remembering it was broken, and instead looked at the new clock, which hung on the wall across from the kitchen.
“Well, a day and half a night. You really do work a lot. You like it, don’t you? Because I can always re-do it…”
“No, no. It’s great.” Peter said quickly. “Thanks a bunch, Gabriel. This is much nicer to come home to. It’s so different…” Gabriel smiled, pleased that Peter was happy with it. He gave Peter a quick tour.
“…and I got a bookshelf for your comics. I didn’t want to mess with your stuff, though, so you can put those up how you want. Also, I framed your news articles. They seemed pretty important to you…” Peter flushed slightly,
“You saw those, huh?” Gabriel nodded,
“Well, they were kind of tacked to the wall… did you not want me to see them?”
“Oh, no. It’s okay. I guess they’re just a little embarrassing.” Gabriel looked at Peter, disbelief written on his face,
“You shouldn’t be embarrassed. You should be proud. You’ve saved so many lives.” Gabriel’s voice sounded awed, but underneath it, Peter could hear a hint of despair.
Peter practically fell against his apartment door when he finally got home from an especially long double-shift. He glanced at his watch. 3:00 am. He opened the door and blinked in surprise when he saw Gabriel still up, reading a book on the couch. Gabriel looked up when the door opened. “Peter, you look exhausted!” he said and got up, taking off Peter’s coat, despite his protests.
“‘M fine. I jus’ need…” Peter trailed off, not entirely sure what he wanted to ask for. Gabriel looked at him, worried. He led Peter to the couch,
“Sit down. As a paramedic, you should know that you shouldn’t overexert yourself like this. I made dinner a couple of hours ago. Do you want some? Or do you want to just go to sleep.”
“Gabr’l. Stop. ‘M fine, really.” Gabriel rolled his eyes,
“Is that why you’re slurring your words?”
“…Shut up.” Gabriel just sighed and got up, walking into the kitchen. Peter heard some clinking and a microwave being turned on. A few minutes later, Gabriel came out with a steaming plate of food. He set it down in front of Peter,
“Eat a little something and then go to bed,” Gabriel commanded, though his voice was soft. Peter sighed and gave in to Gabriel’s demands.
Peter woke up to the smell of waffles. He was starting to get used this. It had been two weeks since Gabriel had moved in and he had made breakfast every, single morning. Peter stumbled out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. “Morning,” he greeted the all too cheerful other male as he slumped into a kitchen chair. Gabriel turned and smiled at his roommate,
“Morning,” he said and gave Peter his plate of waffles. Peter was beginning to wonder when Gabriel was going to get that dorky apron. “You look tired.” Peter looked up,
“I got in late last night, again,” Peter explained. Gabriel nodded,
“I meant to stay up last night, but…” Gabriel shrugged. Peter wanted to ask why Gabriel would want to stay up for him anyways, but he supposed it was because he wanted to fetter over Peter, like he always did when Peter worked late. As for why Gabriel wanted to fetter over him, well, Peter wasn’t going to touch that. “Maybe you should take the day off.” Gabriel suggested. Peter shook his head,
“I can’t. People are depending on me.” Gabriel bit his lip, a habit he probably picked up from Peter.
“But, you can’t help people if you die from exhaustion…” Peter rolled his eyes,
“I’m not going to die from working double-shifts.” Gabriel shrugged,
“I’m just worried about y-” he cut himself off, realizing just what he was about to say. Peter set down his fork and looked at Gabriel seriously,
“What’s with you? Why are you acting like this? I mean I know you’re all ‘redeemed’ and whatnot, but you’re going out of your way just to-” Peter stopped, catching the hurt look on Gabriel’s face.
“I’m sorry Peter, I didn’t mean to bother you,” he said, eyes averted. Peter sighed,
“Gabriel, I didn’t mean that. I’m not bothered. Honestly, I really appreciate all that you’ve done. But, I just don’t understand why you’re doing it.” Gabriel bit his lip, still refusing to look at Peter. “Gabriel?”
“Please forgive me, Peter.” Gabriel said softly.
“Huh? Forgive you?” Gabriel finally looked up, gazing at Peter with imploring eyes. And then it clicked in Peter’s mind. He got up and walked over to Gabriel, who looked up, confused, and perhaps a bit on the defense. Peter looked back down at the other, swallowing hard. “I-” Peter took a deep breath. In his mind’s eye, he saw Sylar killing that cheerleader, in a case of mistaken identity. He saw Matt narrowly escape death thanks to Gabriel’s intervention. He saw Sylar, his hand raised, forefinger extended, prepared to slice open Peter’s skull. He saw Emma running towards him after being rescued by Gabriel. He saw Nathan falling to his death, committing suicide so he, Peter, might be able to stop Sylar. Peter hated himself for what he said next, but he knew it was true anyways, “I forgive you.”