Fic: L'amore, la lussuria, e la vita
Fic: L'amore, la lussuria, e la vita.
Rating: Let's just say NC-17 to be safe.
Characters/Pairings: Peter/Sylar, Emma, Hesam, Claire, mentions of others.
Summary: A story of love; a story of lust; and a story of life.
Warnings: Unbeta'd, angst, explicit sex, violence, swearing, romance, possible OOCness and unexplained sad situations. Overuse of cliches. Dark themes. (But it has a happy ending.)
Notes: I haven't written in a while and thought I'd just dump all this down and see what happens.
Also I may or may not have referenced a certain other show in the second one. Let's see if anyone can guess what it is...
Okay, another note: The third one probably makes no sense. Just go with it and don't over think the plot, since I'm bad at it anyway.
Salvatore.
It's big, and empty, and quiet, and abnormally bright where Gabriel is. He doesn't remember how he got there. He just knows that he is the only one there. He's searched for a long time, so long he's not sure how long it's been, walking and yelling and hoping, just praying, that someone will respond.
No one does.
But when one day, out of the blue, a reverberating bang steals him from his work and brings him topside, he can't help but gape at his...savior.
Peter is wearing a gray jacket and his hair is stupid- it often is- but despite that, Gabriel thinks he's absolutely perfect. How could he be anything else when he's the one who has come for Gabriel?
But what he's saying...it's not right. Gabriel runs, like he always does, he runs and hides, and Peter finds him, he approaches him with his arms up, like one might when confronting a wild animal. (Is that what he is now? An animal?)
But he wouldn't take back anything about their time inside that prison. In ways he can't explain, their minds and hearts mingled, and if he believed in such a thing, Gabriel would say their very souls touched as they spent more and more time together, until one starless night, a single confession shoves them back into reality and they don't have time to talk- But they never have enough time, do they?
When the reporters show up at the carnival, he runs again- always- and hides out. Living on the streets in solitude and anonymity isn't as bad as he thought it would be, even though he's always dirty (and does that drive him crazy) and he feels hungry more often than not. It's better than hurting him, like he hurts every other person he loves.
Loves.
That's a bombshell, alright. One little word has flipped his entire world upside down until he finds himself dreaming every night about Peter, and he knows that somehow, there's this...thing between them, this little red thread connecting their hearts that he can feel Peter tugging on, as if trying to find him, and every time he moves farther away so the other man loses him again.
It's one rainy day in October- or maybe it's January. He lost track (somehow) a long time ago, just wandering the streets. He wonders if not for his regeneration, if he would have died but it doesn't matter cause here is, destined to be when everyone else is gone.
He's huddling close the side of a building, trying to steel himself against the wind, when he feels it, the tug of that little red thread getting worse and worse until he feels like his whole heart might be pulled from his chest. He gasps out loud, hand coming up to clutch at his torso, trying to get the strength to move until suddenly his vision is white hot, and he can't see anymore-
-And then just like that, the pain is gone and he opens his eyes and crouching in front of him is the very person he was trying to avoid, bangs hanging in his face from the falling rain and a sad smile on his face.
"I finally found you," he's saying, and Gabriel is ashamed then, for causing this sadness in the other man's eyes. He lets Peter push his hair back and inspect his face.
"You never gave up looking for me," he murmurs, barely able to speak from exhaustion, and Peter shakes his head, his eyes blinking more than they probably should, and it suddenly occurs to Gabriel that the rain isn't what's causing the wetness on Peter's cheeks.
"No, I didn't," he replies, and takes the other man's hand in his own.
Peter takes him back to his apartment, lets him shower and cut his hair and wear clean clothes that he finds waiting for him in the bathroom. He feeds him, and even though Gabriel hates the taste of whatever this calorific food Peter is feeding him to regain energy, he eats it carefully. When Peter tries to convince him to lay down and rest, he shakes his head. He doesn't tell Peter that he hasn't slept much since the nightmare, but he figures he knows.
Somehow, in that infuriating way of his, Peter has convinced him to lay down with him, and he lets him, and he's bound and determined not to fall asleep but the way Peter is quietly humming and stroking his hair, he can barely manage to keep his eyes open. At first, he tries to wake up, because he doesn't want to get stuck again, but something inside of him tells him that it will be okay, and he lets himself fall.
When he wakes up later, Peter is still there, fingers curled in his hair and a slight slouch to his shoulders.
"You saved me," Gabriel mumbles, and Peter's brow furrows.
"When?"
"Always, Peter. You're always saving me, and I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you."
Peter shakes his head then, reaching his free hand over to gently cradle Gabriel's cheek.
"Of course you do. We're meant to be, did you know that? All this time, and we go our separate ways, but we always find each other again. Even in other realities we've been in each others' lives." Peter smiles softly, reaching a thumb up to gently trace the line of the other man's cheekbone. "It's our destiny, if you believe in that sort of thing."
Gabriel lets Peter's gentle touches lull him back to sleep, and this time, there's no fight, no hesitation. He just lets his dreams overcome him, and wakes up again feeling more alive than he ever has.
He still doesn't know how he's gotten so lucky.
Voglia.
They've been doing this for a while, this gentle dance of pushes and pulls, of lips and tongue and hands and Gabriel has no idea how one person can be so fucking sexy half the time, but there's Peter all the same, making him do things he never thought he would. The fact that he was completely crazy about him probably helped, but the physicality of it all was definitely the main reason he was currently mostly naked on the medic's large, unmade bed, a slight flush on his chest and his hair a mess.
Peter isn't much better. He's got the fabric of his boxer briefs bunched around his upper thighs but Gabriel isn't paying much attention to that because he's too busy watching as Peter fucks into Gabriel's fist, desperate for friction. A single drop of sweat begins its journey down the side of Peter's face and Gabriel leans forward to lap at it with his tongue, making the man against him shiver and moan, just softly.
He knows they should hurry it up soon, because Peter has work early the next morning and, more pressingly, if Peter keeps at it, he's going to come and Gabriel can't have that. Not for what he's got planned.
(Which is the surprising part, really. He never in a million years thought he would want something like this, this act of submission and trust and intimacy. It's like nothing he's ever known.)
He forgot to mention this to Peter, though, when they started tugging off shirts and shoving pillows aside, so he gently uncurls his fist and tries not to smile at the whine Peter makes when the amazing pressure around his cock has stopped.
"What do you want, baby?" Peter breathes, sounding wrecked already, and Gabriel tries not to let his hands shake too much as he pulls Peter close and whisper in his ear.
"I want you to fuck me," he manages to say, ignoring the way his heartbeat seems to have gotten just a tad bit faster. He can hear Peter swallow, loudly, and then the other man is pressing up against him, and fuck, that scorching heat against his stomach is almost too much.
Peter tilts his head up and kisses him languidly, and with little finesse, until Gabriel is pulling him even closer, and finally he pulls Peter's head back by his hair.
"Don't make me push you off me," he mock-threatens, and Peter smiles that stupid(ly sexy) half smirk of his before he complies, digging about by his dresser until he finds what he's looking for. As he climbs back onto the bed, he gently shoves the other man until he's sprawled on his back across the bed, and as Peter carefully begins coating his fingers with something wet and shiny, he tilts his head to the side as if in thought.
"We both know you're good at pushing me off things," he muses, and gently coaxes the other man's legs up, just a little.
"Is it really the time to bring this up?" Gabriel is asking, but Peter just leans to the side and plants a gentle kiss against his knee.
"Relax, baby. I'm good with my hands."
Gabriel wants to ask what he means but then he feels the first breach of one of Pete's fingers inside him and wow, that's a lot better when someone else does it. With somewhat methodical precision, Peter works him open, taking his sweet time about it, and when Gabriel starts to think that the other man is doing this on purpose to be a dick, he feels the slight crook of Peter's fingers pressing up inside him and he groans.
"Are you ready for me?" Peter asks, sliding his free hand up along Gabriel's middle, across his sternum and up to his collar bone. As he goes, Gabriel can just make out him mumbling "Inferior vena cava" and "xiphoid process" and, even stranger, "il mio cuore" and Gabriel swallows and nods, ready as he'll ever be.
Peter is gentle, so careful, as he pushes inside, and he waits for as long as he needs to, even though Gabriel can tell it's killing him not to move, and he grabs at Pete'rs forearm and squeezes, lightly, until Peter starts to move. After that, he doesn't remember much, except how good it felt, how at one point he couldn't even tell where he ended and where Peter began, until he was being gently nudged up until he was practically sitting in the medic's lap, and they were both sitting upright, and Peter has one arm wrapped around his middle for leverage and the other is moving about restlessly, trying to find a place to land until finally he grabs ahold of Gabriel's shoulder and buries his face into his neck.
It's not long before Gabriel is coming, too sensitive for anything more, and he feels the sticky heat sliding between their bodies, but for one moment he doesn't even care about how gross that might be because Peter is looking up at him with this look like he's never seen anything so perfect in his life, and he's saying something, but all Gabriel catches are a few endearments, his name, and some choice swear words. A moment later, Peter's hips stutter and he comes, and the sensation of being filled is both wonderful and horrible and Gabriel tugs Peter closer again and kisses and kisses him until they're both still, and when they're both finally able to move again, Peter is the first to speak.
"You're amazing."
"I think that's the endorphins talking," he brushes off, but Peter presses on.
"No, I mean it. Sweetheart, you're amazing." He pauses, considers for a moment, then adds, "You know I love you, right?"
Gabriel suspected, but confirmation is nice. He sighs dramatically and laughs when Peter pushes him off his lap and onto the soft bed below.
"I love you too, Peter."
They lay there for a bit longer, talking nonsense and peppering every other sentence with stupid nicknames until Peter falls asleep, and Gabriel follows, as he always does.
La Vita.
All good things must come to an end, Peter supposes. He had spent the past two years building this new life for himself, in a world where Claire could have jumped- but she didn't. He doesn't want to know how that happened, or why he remembers it, or even if he had anything to do with it. He just knows what the future would have been like. (Sure, Gabriel would have been there, but they would have thought they were brothers. That would have understandably complicated things.)
He sighs as he surveys his apartment. After Gabriel moved in, he put some of his stuff back, making it look more like home. He smiles just a bit to himself, and double checks his watch. Gabriel would be home in a few minutes, meaning Peter would have to leave now if he wanted to avoid running into him.
The worst thing about this plan, though, is the fact that he has to execute it before anyone else can find out where he's going, or what he's going to do. They might try and stop him, and that cannot be allowed to happen.
Most of all, though, Peter hates goodbyes. Always has, always will, and he'd rather avoid them at all costs than face up to it and say goodbye to everyone. As he finishes shoving a few things in a bag, he mentally ticks off the names of those he'll miss. His mom, of course. Claire. Emma. Hesam. Hiro and Ando. Mohinder? Maybe not. Matt? He'll probably celebrate when he sees that Peter is gone. There's that kid Luke, who Gabriel knew for some reason, and despite how annoying he is, he grew on Peter. There's Edgar and Amanda and Teddy, and all the other people from the Carnival family, who he got to know after hanging with them all for a while.
But it all pales in comparison when he thinks about how in order for this plan to work, he has to leave out the most important person of all: Gabriel. Peter's not sure where he is at the current moment, but Peter realizes he'd better move if he has any hope that Gabriel won't find him. At least not yet. He had some things to take care of, first.
He has his coat on when he hears the telltale clink of a key in the lock and he freezes, knowing there's no way he won't be suspicious. When his friend- his Gabriel- comes in, he stares, confusion clearly evident on his face.
"Peter, what are you doing?" he asks, and Peter shakes his head, looking down. "Peter," he repeats, and the medic realizes the other man has moved so they're toe to toe.
"Do you trust me, Gabriel?" he whispers, and Gabriel nods without hesitation. "We need to get away from here, far away, but we need people to stop looking for us. There's only one way they'll do that, you know what that is, right?"
Gabriel refuses to meet his gaze, instead opting to shove his hands in his pockets.
"I need you to promise you'll do this. We can do this, do you understand?"
Gabriel nods again and Peter reaches into his pocket, pulling out a few small envelopes.
"Get this to my mom and the others. After...afterwards, I want you to read this." He hands Gabriel another letter, with his name inscribed on it. "It will tell you what to do next. Okay?"
Gabriel takes the envelope from him, and looks down at it for a moment, before nodding and pulling Peter close. They kiss like it's the first and last time, ignoring the sounds of taxis and construction outside, just focusing on this one thing.
Peter pulls away, even though it kills him, and heads towards the door. Before he leaves, he turns to the other man.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," he says, but Gabriel just waves a dismissive hand. "Just go," he says, and Peter does.
Gabriel ends up waiting until nighttime to drop the letter off at Angela's apartment, sliding it under the door. The next morning, he's sitting on the floor of the apartment when he hears a loud banging on the door. He gets up, moving as though in a trance, and opens the door. Hesam and Emma are there, and Emma is crying, and he hasn't seen her this sad since the night he saved her and it kills him. Hesam looks pale, like he's seen a ghost, and he takes one look at Gabriel and seems to stop breathing.
"Gabriel, has anyone- Did anyone-" he falters, "Do you know-" He stops like he physically cannot say the words and Emma is burying herself against Gabriel's chest, sobs silently wracking her whole body, and Gabriel can only stare dumbly ahead.
"Peter is-" Hesam finally manages, looking more and more like he was going to throw up. "Peter is dead."
He's not sure what his body is doing, but he thinks he must have moved because he's crumbling to the floor with Emma in his arms and Hesam stands there, for a long time, not knowing what to do, before he slides down against the wall next to them and buries his face in his hands.
The two of them end up staying there, and Gabriel waits until they're asleep, unanswered questions still on their lips- Why would he kill himself? Where were you? Why did no one see it coming?- and he heads out. He knows where he has to go.
Claire is at Angela's, drinking from what appears to be a glass of whiskey older than her, and Gabriel knows Angela must be tranquilized somewhere nearby.
"What do you want?" she asks, not at all affected by the drink, but trying so hard to be.
"I need you to do something for me, Claire."
She quirks her head to the side, clearly intrigued, but narrows her eyes in suspicion anyway.
"Why should I help you?" she asks, and Gabriel reaches into his pocket and pulls out a letter, handing it to Claire. She opens it, and reads it, and he can see the moment when she understands because she looks up at him like he just told her she was the next Virgin Mary.
"Why should I help you do this?" she asks, and nods her head in the direction of the master bedroom. "You know this is killing her."
Gabriel nods, feeling so tired.
"It's the only way, Claire. Please. You have to understand what this is like."
She doesn't reply for several long moments, just stares down at the letter in her hands, before carefully folding it up and tucking it into her pants pocket.
"Fine."
It takes some careful maneuvering, but the next morning, when the others wake up, they turn on the news to find a story about a wanted killer found splattered, dead, on the pavement in front of a well-known business center.
They hold a funeral for Peter, though the casket is closed because of the damage the body incurred after falling from such a height. The corpse formally known as Gabriel Gray gets sent to the coroner to be autopsied, filed, and destroyed.
When the attendant comes to grab the body to burn, he finds it has disappeared. They close the case and pretend it never happened, opting to not waste the resources.
Life goes on. Many years later, Claire makes her way to a small little town in Western Europe, finding two figures sitting at a small table outside a cafe, a checker board between them. The shorter of the two reaches across and makes a move, making the taller figure laugh and immediately counter the move. When they notice her, they nod in acknowledgement, and she sits and watches their game.
She doesn't ask why they did it, why they had to do it so dramatically, or why they asked her to help them. She sees now, watching the way Peter smiles like he never did when she knew him, and the way Gabriel relaxes against the chair, that they're happy.
After all this time, she understands, that peace is the one thing anyone truly needs, and happiness, and love. She sees now that the two of them have it all. Peter offers her a wine glass and she takes it without hesitation, gently clinking it against the other two's glasses.
"To life," Peter volunteers, and Claire gently agrees, "To life."
The sun sets behind them, but they barely notice, too caught up in their game, and their stories, to notice.
Rating: Let's just say NC-17 to be safe.
Characters/Pairings: Peter/Sylar, Emma, Hesam, Claire, mentions of others.
Summary: A story of love; a story of lust; and a story of life.
Warnings: Unbeta'd, angst, explicit sex, violence, swearing, romance, possible OOCness and unexplained sad situations. Overuse of cliches. Dark themes. (But it has a happy ending.)
Notes: I haven't written in a while and thought I'd just dump all this down and see what happens.
Also I may or may not have referenced a certain other show in the second one. Let's see if anyone can guess what it is...
Okay, another note: The third one probably makes no sense. Just go with it and don't over think the plot, since I'm bad at it anyway.
Salvatore.
It's big, and empty, and quiet, and abnormally bright where Gabriel is. He doesn't remember how he got there. He just knows that he is the only one there. He's searched for a long time, so long he's not sure how long it's been, walking and yelling and hoping, just praying, that someone will respond.
No one does.
But when one day, out of the blue, a reverberating bang steals him from his work and brings him topside, he can't help but gape at his...savior.
Peter is wearing a gray jacket and his hair is stupid- it often is- but despite that, Gabriel thinks he's absolutely perfect. How could he be anything else when he's the one who has come for Gabriel?
But what he's saying...it's not right. Gabriel runs, like he always does, he runs and hides, and Peter finds him, he approaches him with his arms up, like one might when confronting a wild animal. (Is that what he is now? An animal?)
But he wouldn't take back anything about their time inside that prison. In ways he can't explain, their minds and hearts mingled, and if he believed in such a thing, Gabriel would say their very souls touched as they spent more and more time together, until one starless night, a single confession shoves them back into reality and they don't have time to talk- But they never have enough time, do they?
When the reporters show up at the carnival, he runs again- always- and hides out. Living on the streets in solitude and anonymity isn't as bad as he thought it would be, even though he's always dirty (and does that drive him crazy) and he feels hungry more often than not. It's better than hurting him, like he hurts every other person he loves.
Loves.
That's a bombshell, alright. One little word has flipped his entire world upside down until he finds himself dreaming every night about Peter, and he knows that somehow, there's this...thing between them, this little red thread connecting their hearts that he can feel Peter tugging on, as if trying to find him, and every time he moves farther away so the other man loses him again.
It's one rainy day in October- or maybe it's January. He lost track (somehow) a long time ago, just wandering the streets. He wonders if not for his regeneration, if he would have died but it doesn't matter cause here is, destined to be when everyone else is gone.
He's huddling close the side of a building, trying to steel himself against the wind, when he feels it, the tug of that little red thread getting worse and worse until he feels like his whole heart might be pulled from his chest. He gasps out loud, hand coming up to clutch at his torso, trying to get the strength to move until suddenly his vision is white hot, and he can't see anymore-
-And then just like that, the pain is gone and he opens his eyes and crouching in front of him is the very person he was trying to avoid, bangs hanging in his face from the falling rain and a sad smile on his face.
"I finally found you," he's saying, and Gabriel is ashamed then, for causing this sadness in the other man's eyes. He lets Peter push his hair back and inspect his face.
"You never gave up looking for me," he murmurs, barely able to speak from exhaustion, and Peter shakes his head, his eyes blinking more than they probably should, and it suddenly occurs to Gabriel that the rain isn't what's causing the wetness on Peter's cheeks.
"No, I didn't," he replies, and takes the other man's hand in his own.
Peter takes him back to his apartment, lets him shower and cut his hair and wear clean clothes that he finds waiting for him in the bathroom. He feeds him, and even though Gabriel hates the taste of whatever this calorific food Peter is feeding him to regain energy, he eats it carefully. When Peter tries to convince him to lay down and rest, he shakes his head. He doesn't tell Peter that he hasn't slept much since the nightmare, but he figures he knows.
Somehow, in that infuriating way of his, Peter has convinced him to lay down with him, and he lets him, and he's bound and determined not to fall asleep but the way Peter is quietly humming and stroking his hair, he can barely manage to keep his eyes open. At first, he tries to wake up, because he doesn't want to get stuck again, but something inside of him tells him that it will be okay, and he lets himself fall.
When he wakes up later, Peter is still there, fingers curled in his hair and a slight slouch to his shoulders.
"You saved me," Gabriel mumbles, and Peter's brow furrows.
"When?"
"Always, Peter. You're always saving me, and I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you."
Peter shakes his head then, reaching his free hand over to gently cradle Gabriel's cheek.
"Of course you do. We're meant to be, did you know that? All this time, and we go our separate ways, but we always find each other again. Even in other realities we've been in each others' lives." Peter smiles softly, reaching a thumb up to gently trace the line of the other man's cheekbone. "It's our destiny, if you believe in that sort of thing."
Gabriel lets Peter's gentle touches lull him back to sleep, and this time, there's no fight, no hesitation. He just lets his dreams overcome him, and wakes up again feeling more alive than he ever has.
He still doesn't know how he's gotten so lucky.
Voglia.
They've been doing this for a while, this gentle dance of pushes and pulls, of lips and tongue and hands and Gabriel has no idea how one person can be so fucking sexy half the time, but there's Peter all the same, making him do things he never thought he would. The fact that he was completely crazy about him probably helped, but the physicality of it all was definitely the main reason he was currently mostly naked on the medic's large, unmade bed, a slight flush on his chest and his hair a mess.
Peter isn't much better. He's got the fabric of his boxer briefs bunched around his upper thighs but Gabriel isn't paying much attention to that because he's too busy watching as Peter fucks into Gabriel's fist, desperate for friction. A single drop of sweat begins its journey down the side of Peter's face and Gabriel leans forward to lap at it with his tongue, making the man against him shiver and moan, just softly.
He knows they should hurry it up soon, because Peter has work early the next morning and, more pressingly, if Peter keeps at it, he's going to come and Gabriel can't have that. Not for what he's got planned.
(Which is the surprising part, really. He never in a million years thought he would want something like this, this act of submission and trust and intimacy. It's like nothing he's ever known.)
He forgot to mention this to Peter, though, when they started tugging off shirts and shoving pillows aside, so he gently uncurls his fist and tries not to smile at the whine Peter makes when the amazing pressure around his cock has stopped.
"What do you want, baby?" Peter breathes, sounding wrecked already, and Gabriel tries not to let his hands shake too much as he pulls Peter close and whisper in his ear.
"I want you to fuck me," he manages to say, ignoring the way his heartbeat seems to have gotten just a tad bit faster. He can hear Peter swallow, loudly, and then the other man is pressing up against him, and fuck, that scorching heat against his stomach is almost too much.
Peter tilts his head up and kisses him languidly, and with little finesse, until Gabriel is pulling him even closer, and finally he pulls Peter's head back by his hair.
"Don't make me push you off me," he mock-threatens, and Peter smiles that stupid(ly sexy) half smirk of his before he complies, digging about by his dresser until he finds what he's looking for. As he climbs back onto the bed, he gently shoves the other man until he's sprawled on his back across the bed, and as Peter carefully begins coating his fingers with something wet and shiny, he tilts his head to the side as if in thought.
"We both know you're good at pushing me off things," he muses, and gently coaxes the other man's legs up, just a little.
"Is it really the time to bring this up?" Gabriel is asking, but Peter just leans to the side and plants a gentle kiss against his knee.
"Relax, baby. I'm good with my hands."
Gabriel wants to ask what he means but then he feels the first breach of one of Pete's fingers inside him and wow, that's a lot better when someone else does it. With somewhat methodical precision, Peter works him open, taking his sweet time about it, and when Gabriel starts to think that the other man is doing this on purpose to be a dick, he feels the slight crook of Peter's fingers pressing up inside him and he groans.
"Are you ready for me?" Peter asks, sliding his free hand up along Gabriel's middle, across his sternum and up to his collar bone. As he goes, Gabriel can just make out him mumbling "Inferior vena cava" and "xiphoid process" and, even stranger, "il mio cuore" and Gabriel swallows and nods, ready as he'll ever be.
Peter is gentle, so careful, as he pushes inside, and he waits for as long as he needs to, even though Gabriel can tell it's killing him not to move, and he grabs at Pete'rs forearm and squeezes, lightly, until Peter starts to move. After that, he doesn't remember much, except how good it felt, how at one point he couldn't even tell where he ended and where Peter began, until he was being gently nudged up until he was practically sitting in the medic's lap, and they were both sitting upright, and Peter has one arm wrapped around his middle for leverage and the other is moving about restlessly, trying to find a place to land until finally he grabs ahold of Gabriel's shoulder and buries his face into his neck.
It's not long before Gabriel is coming, too sensitive for anything more, and he feels the sticky heat sliding between their bodies, but for one moment he doesn't even care about how gross that might be because Peter is looking up at him with this look like he's never seen anything so perfect in his life, and he's saying something, but all Gabriel catches are a few endearments, his name, and some choice swear words. A moment later, Peter's hips stutter and he comes, and the sensation of being filled is both wonderful and horrible and Gabriel tugs Peter closer again and kisses and kisses him until they're both still, and when they're both finally able to move again, Peter is the first to speak.
"You're amazing."
"I think that's the endorphins talking," he brushes off, but Peter presses on.
"No, I mean it. Sweetheart, you're amazing." He pauses, considers for a moment, then adds, "You know I love you, right?"
Gabriel suspected, but confirmation is nice. He sighs dramatically and laughs when Peter pushes him off his lap and onto the soft bed below.
"I love you too, Peter."
They lay there for a bit longer, talking nonsense and peppering every other sentence with stupid nicknames until Peter falls asleep, and Gabriel follows, as he always does.
La Vita.
All good things must come to an end, Peter supposes. He had spent the past two years building this new life for himself, in a world where Claire could have jumped- but she didn't. He doesn't want to know how that happened, or why he remembers it, or even if he had anything to do with it. He just knows what the future would have been like. (Sure, Gabriel would have been there, but they would have thought they were brothers. That would have understandably complicated things.)
He sighs as he surveys his apartment. After Gabriel moved in, he put some of his stuff back, making it look more like home. He smiles just a bit to himself, and double checks his watch. Gabriel would be home in a few minutes, meaning Peter would have to leave now if he wanted to avoid running into him.
The worst thing about this plan, though, is the fact that he has to execute it before anyone else can find out where he's going, or what he's going to do. They might try and stop him, and that cannot be allowed to happen.
Most of all, though, Peter hates goodbyes. Always has, always will, and he'd rather avoid them at all costs than face up to it and say goodbye to everyone. As he finishes shoving a few things in a bag, he mentally ticks off the names of those he'll miss. His mom, of course. Claire. Emma. Hesam. Hiro and Ando. Mohinder? Maybe not. Matt? He'll probably celebrate when he sees that Peter is gone. There's that kid Luke, who Gabriel knew for some reason, and despite how annoying he is, he grew on Peter. There's Edgar and Amanda and Teddy, and all the other people from the Carnival family, who he got to know after hanging with them all for a while.
But it all pales in comparison when he thinks about how in order for this plan to work, he has to leave out the most important person of all: Gabriel. Peter's not sure where he is at the current moment, but Peter realizes he'd better move if he has any hope that Gabriel won't find him. At least not yet. He had some things to take care of, first.
He has his coat on when he hears the telltale clink of a key in the lock and he freezes, knowing there's no way he won't be suspicious. When his friend- his Gabriel- comes in, he stares, confusion clearly evident on his face.
"Peter, what are you doing?" he asks, and Peter shakes his head, looking down. "Peter," he repeats, and the medic realizes the other man has moved so they're toe to toe.
"Do you trust me, Gabriel?" he whispers, and Gabriel nods without hesitation. "We need to get away from here, far away, but we need people to stop looking for us. There's only one way they'll do that, you know what that is, right?"
Gabriel refuses to meet his gaze, instead opting to shove his hands in his pockets.
"I need you to promise you'll do this. We can do this, do you understand?"
Gabriel nods again and Peter reaches into his pocket, pulling out a few small envelopes.
"Get this to my mom and the others. After...afterwards, I want you to read this." He hands Gabriel another letter, with his name inscribed on it. "It will tell you what to do next. Okay?"
Gabriel takes the envelope from him, and looks down at it for a moment, before nodding and pulling Peter close. They kiss like it's the first and last time, ignoring the sounds of taxis and construction outside, just focusing on this one thing.
Peter pulls away, even though it kills him, and heads towards the door. Before he leaves, he turns to the other man.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," he says, but Gabriel just waves a dismissive hand. "Just go," he says, and Peter does.
Gabriel ends up waiting until nighttime to drop the letter off at Angela's apartment, sliding it under the door. The next morning, he's sitting on the floor of the apartment when he hears a loud banging on the door. He gets up, moving as though in a trance, and opens the door. Hesam and Emma are there, and Emma is crying, and he hasn't seen her this sad since the night he saved her and it kills him. Hesam looks pale, like he's seen a ghost, and he takes one look at Gabriel and seems to stop breathing.
"Gabriel, has anyone- Did anyone-" he falters, "Do you know-" He stops like he physically cannot say the words and Emma is burying herself against Gabriel's chest, sobs silently wracking her whole body, and Gabriel can only stare dumbly ahead.
"Peter is-" Hesam finally manages, looking more and more like he was going to throw up. "Peter is dead."
He's not sure what his body is doing, but he thinks he must have moved because he's crumbling to the floor with Emma in his arms and Hesam stands there, for a long time, not knowing what to do, before he slides down against the wall next to them and buries his face in his hands.
The two of them end up staying there, and Gabriel waits until they're asleep, unanswered questions still on their lips- Why would he kill himself? Where were you? Why did no one see it coming?- and he heads out. He knows where he has to go.
Claire is at Angela's, drinking from what appears to be a glass of whiskey older than her, and Gabriel knows Angela must be tranquilized somewhere nearby.
"What do you want?" she asks, not at all affected by the drink, but trying so hard to be.
"I need you to do something for me, Claire."
She quirks her head to the side, clearly intrigued, but narrows her eyes in suspicion anyway.
"Why should I help you?" she asks, and Gabriel reaches into his pocket and pulls out a letter, handing it to Claire. She opens it, and reads it, and he can see the moment when she understands because she looks up at him like he just told her she was the next Virgin Mary.
"Why should I help you do this?" she asks, and nods her head in the direction of the master bedroom. "You know this is killing her."
Gabriel nods, feeling so tired.
"It's the only way, Claire. Please. You have to understand what this is like."
She doesn't reply for several long moments, just stares down at the letter in her hands, before carefully folding it up and tucking it into her pants pocket.
"Fine."
It takes some careful maneuvering, but the next morning, when the others wake up, they turn on the news to find a story about a wanted killer found splattered, dead, on the pavement in front of a well-known business center.
They hold a funeral for Peter, though the casket is closed because of the damage the body incurred after falling from such a height. The corpse formally known as Gabriel Gray gets sent to the coroner to be autopsied, filed, and destroyed.
When the attendant comes to grab the body to burn, he finds it has disappeared. They close the case and pretend it never happened, opting to not waste the resources.
Life goes on. Many years later, Claire makes her way to a small little town in Western Europe, finding two figures sitting at a small table outside a cafe, a checker board between them. The shorter of the two reaches across and makes a move, making the taller figure laugh and immediately counter the move. When they notice her, they nod in acknowledgement, and she sits and watches their game.
She doesn't ask why they did it, why they had to do it so dramatically, or why they asked her to help them. She sees now, watching the way Peter smiles like he never did when she knew him, and the way Gabriel relaxes against the chair, that they're happy.
After all this time, she understands, that peace is the one thing anyone truly needs, and happiness, and love. She sees now that the two of them have it all. Peter offers her a wine glass and she takes it without hesitation, gently clinking it against the other two's glasses.
"To life," Peter volunteers, and Claire gently agrees, "To life."
The sun sets behind them, but they barely notice, too caught up in their game, and their stories, to notice.