FIC: Angel With a Broken Watch, Chapter 10
Title: Angel with a Broken Watch, Chapter 10
Characters/Pairings: Elle/Gabriel, a little Elle/Haitian, Bob Bishop
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or any of its characters
Word count: 939
Spoiler alert: definite spoilers for 3.08, AU from there
Summary: It's in her best interest that she doesn't remember any of this...
She was back in his apartment, and he was standing there in the center of the room. His eyes glistened with tears behind his glasses, and she wanted to run to him - to embrace him, to run his hands through his hair, to cover him with kisses, to apologize for being such a wreck. But she couldn't move - she was frozen in place, and even as she opened her mouth to speak, no sounds came forth. She was trapped in awkward stillness, watching him, yearning for him, unable to go to him as she desired. He slowly turned over his hands until his palms were facing her - they were dripping with blood.
She gasped and bolted upwards in bed. For a moment she let her hands explore her surroundings as she tried to sort out what was real and what was not. It had been a dream one so vivid that her pillow was damp with tears - she'd been crying in her sleep. In a few minutes her shallow breath steadied itself and she wiped her cheeks with her hands before lying back down, afraid to drift back into sleep.
She shouldn't have been concerned. There was so much on her mind that her thoughts stumbled over one another, overlapping and struggling for her attention. Yes, Gabriel was a killer - he'd been so when she'd met him. Yes, she left him because she'd been afraid - no, it was more complicated than that. She left him because she lost control of her power. She blamed her physical state for that. She couldn't have gone to just any doctor to take care of it, not unless she was willing to burn down a medical office. Had she stayed any longer she risked him discovering her for what she was: not only special, but a liar on top of it.
Lost in her thoughts, Elle didn't move when her father let himself in. She buried her face in her arms as he solemnly sat beside her.
"Elle," he began, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes with his thumb and his forefinger. "After some careful consideration, I've decided it would be best for you if you terminate."
Her breath caught in her throat, but she would have been hard-pressed to explain why. Somehow, when it had been her decision, it had seemed a much more agreeable option. When it became her father's idea she immediately reconsidered.
"It'll be easier to pretend none of this ever happened. I'll chalk this one up as a rookie mistake and trust that nothing like this happens again. You can have it done downstairs in the hospital wing. I've already taken steps to ensure the utmost discretion. In a few days you can go out on missions again - a new partner, new opportunities -"
"No," she interrupted. "I don't want any of that."
"Elle, I understand your desire to rebel against me. But your refusal is nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction. Consider the consequences. You don't want to have a child just to spite me, do you?"
"No, of course not," she replied, matching his even, emotionless tone. "That would be an illogical and irrational reason."
"I'm glad you see it my way. I was afraid that you were misunderstanding me."
"I think you're misunderstanding me, Daddy. I can see it your way, but I'm still going to have it my way."
"Elle, would you listen to yourself? You sound petulant and childish. How can you possibly think you're ready for something like this?"
"What's the matter, Daddy? Not ready to be a grandpa?"
Bob Bishop's eyes locked with hers, and he stared her down with his angry glare. "You are not taking this seriously, Elle."
His gaze effectively unnerved Elle, and her voice became childlike, wavering as she spoke next. "Just give me some time, Daddy. Please?"
Bob sighed with frustration. "Fine. Your appointment is for tomorrow afternoon. If you can come up with a good reason, I'll let it slide." He stood to leave, brushing the wrinkles from his pants as he walked towards the door. "A good reason, Elle," he reiterated as he closed the door behind him.
He remembered following Bishop to his daughter's room, waiting patiently outside without knowing what sort of hushed conversation was taking place just on the other side of the door. When Bob exited the room, he turned to the Haitian and said "If she goes anywhere, I want you to tail her. Whatever you do, don't let her leave the building." And suddenly his memory was jogged, and he recalled what was about to happen next before he got to Elle's now-fractured memory of it.
As soon as she heard the echoes her father's footfalls in the hallway fade away, Elle got out of bed and went to the door. She nearly jumped out of her skin, startled to find the Haitian standing solemnly on the other side.
The Haitian thought it a strange sensation, watching himself in her memory.
"What... wait..." she sputtered momentarily as she calmed down. "My father put you here to stand guard, didn't he?"
The Haitian didn't reply, except by pressing his mouth into a thin line in a half-hearted attempt to smile.
"Can you take me to girl?" Elle asked. "The one whose family was killed by Sylar?"
The expression on the Haitian's face softened for a moment, a combination of confusion and pity. He nodded silently, gesturing for Elle to follow him. He strode down the hallway quickly, and she padded behind him in her bare feet, wondering what she would say to this little girl upon their meeting.
Characters/Pairings: Elle/Gabriel, a little Elle/Haitian, Bob Bishop
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or any of its characters
Word count: 939
Spoiler alert: definite spoilers for 3.08, AU from there
Summary: It's in her best interest that she doesn't remember any of this...
She was back in his apartment, and he was standing there in the center of the room. His eyes glistened with tears behind his glasses, and she wanted to run to him - to embrace him, to run his hands through his hair, to cover him with kisses, to apologize for being such a wreck. But she couldn't move - she was frozen in place, and even as she opened her mouth to speak, no sounds came forth. She was trapped in awkward stillness, watching him, yearning for him, unable to go to him as she desired. He slowly turned over his hands until his palms were facing her - they were dripping with blood.
She gasped and bolted upwards in bed. For a moment she let her hands explore her surroundings as she tried to sort out what was real and what was not. It had been a dream one so vivid that her pillow was damp with tears - she'd been crying in her sleep. In a few minutes her shallow breath steadied itself and she wiped her cheeks with her hands before lying back down, afraid to drift back into sleep.
She shouldn't have been concerned. There was so much on her mind that her thoughts stumbled over one another, overlapping and struggling for her attention. Yes, Gabriel was a killer - he'd been so when she'd met him. Yes, she left him because she'd been afraid - no, it was more complicated than that. She left him because she lost control of her power. She blamed her physical state for that. She couldn't have gone to just any doctor to take care of it, not unless she was willing to burn down a medical office. Had she stayed any longer she risked him discovering her for what she was: not only special, but a liar on top of it.
Lost in her thoughts, Elle didn't move when her father let himself in. She buried her face in her arms as he solemnly sat beside her.
"Elle," he began, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes with his thumb and his forefinger. "After some careful consideration, I've decided it would be best for you if you terminate."
Her breath caught in her throat, but she would have been hard-pressed to explain why. Somehow, when it had been her decision, it had seemed a much more agreeable option. When it became her father's idea she immediately reconsidered.
"It'll be easier to pretend none of this ever happened. I'll chalk this one up as a rookie mistake and trust that nothing like this happens again. You can have it done downstairs in the hospital wing. I've already taken steps to ensure the utmost discretion. In a few days you can go out on missions again - a new partner, new opportunities -"
"No," she interrupted. "I don't want any of that."
"Elle, I understand your desire to rebel against me. But your refusal is nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction. Consider the consequences. You don't want to have a child just to spite me, do you?"
"No, of course not," she replied, matching his even, emotionless tone. "That would be an illogical and irrational reason."
"I'm glad you see it my way. I was afraid that you were misunderstanding me."
"I think you're misunderstanding me, Daddy. I can see it your way, but I'm still going to have it my way."
"Elle, would you listen to yourself? You sound petulant and childish. How can you possibly think you're ready for something like this?"
"What's the matter, Daddy? Not ready to be a grandpa?"
Bob Bishop's eyes locked with hers, and he stared her down with his angry glare. "You are not taking this seriously, Elle."
His gaze effectively unnerved Elle, and her voice became childlike, wavering as she spoke next. "Just give me some time, Daddy. Please?"
Bob sighed with frustration. "Fine. Your appointment is for tomorrow afternoon. If you can come up with a good reason, I'll let it slide." He stood to leave, brushing the wrinkles from his pants as he walked towards the door. "A good reason, Elle," he reiterated as he closed the door behind him.
He remembered following Bishop to his daughter's room, waiting patiently outside without knowing what sort of hushed conversation was taking place just on the other side of the door. When Bob exited the room, he turned to the Haitian and said "If she goes anywhere, I want you to tail her. Whatever you do, don't let her leave the building." And suddenly his memory was jogged, and he recalled what was about to happen next before he got to Elle's now-fractured memory of it.
As soon as she heard the echoes her father's footfalls in the hallway fade away, Elle got out of bed and went to the door. She nearly jumped out of her skin, startled to find the Haitian standing solemnly on the other side.
The Haitian thought it a strange sensation, watching himself in her memory.
"What... wait..." she sputtered momentarily as she calmed down. "My father put you here to stand guard, didn't he?"
The Haitian didn't reply, except by pressing his mouth into a thin line in a half-hearted attempt to smile.
"Can you take me to girl?" Elle asked. "The one whose family was killed by Sylar?"
The expression on the Haitian's face softened for a moment, a combination of confusion and pity. He nodded silently, gesturing for Elle to follow him. He strode down the hallway quickly, and she padded behind him in her bare feet, wondering what she would say to this little girl upon their meeting.