Fic: Arabian Nights - Ch. 7
Title: Arabian Nights
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Mohinder/Gabriel
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The story of a prince, a watchmaker, and the magical lamp that changed their lives.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Aladdin.
Warnings: Humor, Slash, AU, Language
Prologue| Chapter 1| Chapter 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| Chapter 5| Chapter 6
Having spent most of his life in a desert, Gabriel had never really known the cold chill of pure ice. He had wandered the sandy dunes at dusk, when the sun was hidden and the grainy surface felt almost refreshing underneath his calloused feet. Yet here -- surrounded by white powdery snow for as far as the eye could see -- was a new world that he was not ready for.
The tattered rags that he wore were not enough to protect him against the bitter conditions and every inch of him was either numb or burning from the pure intensity of the cold. His teeth were chattering and his breath came out in thick white puffs as he searched the ice world for any signs of something resembling a way out. Yet between the dim gray sky and the sheets of snow that fell before his eyes, Gabriel couldn't make out anything except the large pillar that had once been part of the palace.
Gabriel looked down at his hands, the tips of fingers were quickly turning blue, and his feet -- buried underneath the thick blanket of snow -- barely had any feeling in them. He would be dead in no time at all if he did not escape the snow encrusted prison soon.
Yet there was something that caught his eye, momentarily distracting the young watchmaker from his plight. Less than a foot away, buried within a mound of snow, he could barely make out what looked like a tuft of brown fur.
"Luke," he gasped, scrambling towards the fallen creature. "Luke!"
Luke -- now returned to his true form -- was curled up into a tight, miserable ball, struggling to keep himself warm against the frosty air that was most likely hurting him even worse than it was Gabriel. The watchmaker felt his insides clench as he scooped the creature up and cradled him against his chest. Luke was his pet, his friend, his responsibility, and he had forgotten that.
"I'm sorry Luke," Gabriel practically sobbed, slipping the little monkey underneath his shirt and pressing their bodies together. He may not have been providing much heat at the moment, but it should be at least enough to help keep Luke warm for a little while longer. "This is all my fault. I've made such a mess of everything."
His eyes stung from both the biting wind and the need to cry as he thought about Mohinder and Chandra and Elle and all the people in Agrabah who would be suffering all because he had allowed Thompson to get his hands on the lamp. He never should have agreed to help the man; he should have just stayed in the dungeon where he had belonged. His longing for a better life had blown up in his face, had ruined things for everyone. An entire city was in danger because of him.
Gabriel sighed. It was crazy, insane, but he knew deep inside that he couldn't just sit back and wait for death. Somehow he had to get back to Agrabah and set things right.
It was at that exact moment that he saw a patch of purple fabric lying flat against the snow, seemingly frozen stiff as it lay trapped underneath the huge chunk of the palace. "Carpet!" he cried, running towards the enchanted rug. At least he had his way out. Now the watchmaker just had to come up with a plan.
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Everything had changed so quickly. Less than a day had passed since Thompson had taken power, yet the servants didn't seem to notice. They seemed convinced that the former vizier had always been Sultan and bent to his every whim without question. Mohinder's stomach clenched as he remembered how Captain Parkman had taken his father away to the dungeon without a moment's hesitation, how they had taken Nirand -- now no more than a mere cub -- and locked him in a gilded cage, and how the entire throne room, the entire castle had been transformed at the wave of a hand.
No longer were the walls clean, polished marble decorated with calming hues of blue. Instead they were a fiery red with gilded trim. The regal elephant head that rested on top of the throne had been transformed into a vicious snake with its fangs bared and a hateful gleam in its ruby eyes. Piles of gold, jewels and exotic goods decorated the floors and torches burned, intimidating and unnecessarily warm along the edge of the grand room.
Yet the sky was the worst. Thick, gray clouds of smoke had blocked out the sun ever since Thompson had made himself sultan. Mohinder knew that only a matter of hours had passed since then, but they were so deep and ominous that the prince felt certain they would never disappear.
Prince. Mohinder frowned, thinking over that word carefully. Was he even a prince anymore? He looked down at the outfit Thompson had created for him with his dark magic. Silk red pants hung low on his hips, revealing his navel and barely hiding his most private area. His feet and chest were bare, and a golden ban shaped to resemble a double headed serpent gripped his right bicep. He certainly didn't feel like a prince. He just felt... confused. The young man had never thought much of Thompson, but in all his years, never would he have imagined that the vizier had pictured him in this way.
"Mohinder?"
The boy turned, the heavy golden chains linking his hands together rattling with the movement. He saw the girl -- the petite blonde who had somehow managed to make all of this happen -- standing behind him, an apologetic look on her features as she approached him, careful not to alert anyone else to her presence.
"I just wanted to say, I'm sorry for... everything," she sighed, rubbing her thin arms sheepishly.
He blinked, the pieces slowly falling into place for him. "You're... you're a genie, aren't you?" She nodded. Mohinder sighed. He couldn't blame this girl for Thompson's evil. She was obviously remorseful, sincerely so, while Thompson was relishing in the misery of others. What's more, he knew that as a genie this girl had no other choice but to do as she was told, whether she liked it or not. Thompson was the reason all this was happening. Thompson was the reason that Sylar... the boy, was dead. "Don't be sorry. This isn't your fault."
"I still feel awful," she muttered, scrubbing her golden slippers against the red polished floor.
"Is there any way we can undo this?" Mohinder whispered, mindful that while Thompson wasn't in the room, his parrot was. Knowing that Candice had not only been able to talk, but was also intelligent sent chills down his back. All those times the parrot had flown into his bedchamber while he was dressing... "You can undo the wishes, can't you?"
The genie shrugged. "Yeah, only if someone wishes it all to be undone, but that's not gonna happen. There's no way Thompson will let the lamp out of his sight and, unfortunately, I can't exactly give it to you. You'd have to take it yourself."
Mohinder sighed, looking down at his chains. He wouldn't exactly be able to do anything discretely like this. "This is such a mess."
The girl frowned, worrying her lower lip carefully before putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Would it help to know that his feelings for you were genuine?"
The young man blinked, startled by her question. "You mean, Sylar, erh... Oh dear. What was his real name again?"
"Gabriel," she supplied, a fond smile lighting her features. "And he loved you, really. I've had a lot of masters -- most of them just like Thompson, some of them worst -- and Gabe was the nicest one. All he wanted to do was be with you."
"Well... why didn't he tell me the truth?"
She sighed, her eyes saddening at that question. "Because he didn't think he was good enough for you."
"That's nonsense! I loved him from the moment I met him. I didn't care if he was a prince."
"That's what I said!" she scoffed, crossing her thin arms over her chest. "He wouldn't listen though. He was too insecure... but it was cute."
Mohinder smiled as he remembered the boy he had met in the marketplace, the boy who had saved him without ever knowing his name, the boy who had blushed so fiercely with every word he spoke... and then he remembered the prince, the prince who had charmed him, understood him, had made him feel whole for the first time in his life. His heart swelled knowing that they were one and the same. Yet it didn't matter. Gabriel was gone.
"It was cute," he lamented. "I... I wish I could have saved him. I wish I could have told him I loved him no matter what."
"Oh, he's not dead."
Mohinder frowned, blinking in confusion at the girl's comment. He stared at her and saw nothing but certainty and seriousness in her bright blue eyes. "How... how do you know that?"
The genie shrugged. "I just know," she said, a sly smile forming on her lips. "He loves you too much to just lay back and die."
The young man smiled, the faintest hint of a blush coloring his cheeks at her words.
"Isn't that cute?" The smug, familiar voice sent a shiver down his spine as Mohinder turned to see Thompson approaching the two of them, dark and intimidating in his newly acquired red and black attire. Yet Mohinder didn't so much as flinch as the man stepped towards them, his typical smirk pulling at his lips as he went to grab Mohinder's gilded chains, touching them thoughtfully. "Mohinder, I didn't think you'd take to your new position so well, but here you are, conversing with the help as if you were always one of them. Truly you are quite adaptable, 'Prince.'"
Mohinder scoffed, yanking his chains out of the "sorcerer's" loose grasp and glaring at him. "Laugh all you want, Thompson, but I'll see to it that you're restored to your proper place in the snake pit soon enough."
The traitor was completely unfazed by his words as he used his staff to once again grab Mohinder's chains and pull the boy closer to him. They were inches away, nearly nose to nose and Mohinder wouldn't allow himself to break the gaze and seem weak. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that, Dear Prince?" Thompson sneered. "I'm the sultan now. I have hundreds of servants and guards and even a genie at my beck and call. What's more, I'm the most powerful sorcerer in the world. Do you really think there's anything you could do to me?"
Mohinder didn't blink, didn't flinch even as the older man's hot breath ghosted on his face. "I'll find a way," he declared, jaw set and eyes hardened.
Thompson chuckled, releasing the young man and taking a step back. Yet Mohinder did not get a chance to enjoy the fact that the traitor was no longer invading his personal space. Thompson waved his serpent staff in the air, materializing a golden crown out of thin air as Mohinder's chains shimmered and turned into red sparks of light before disappearing from sight. "How about I make things a bit easier for you, Mohinder?" Thompson smirked, the crown, emitting a haunting red hue as it drifted closer towards the young man. "Marry me."
"What?" He was embarrassed to admit that he actually yelped. His nose wrinkled in distaste as the young man found himself taking an unconscious step back.
"You can go ahead and plan my death, but why not do it in more comfortable surroundings?"
His blood churning at the very nerve of the man. Clearly this was just another way for Thompson to humiliate him, but did the man really think that Mohinder would lower himself into marrying a back stabbing snake in the grass who was more than twice his age?
"You're old enough to be my father you disgusting pervert!" Mohinder sneered, grabbing the crown and throwing it in Thompson's face. The sorcerer raised a hand to block the metal from hitting him, but he wasn't quick enough. One of the pointed edges scrapped the man's cheek before clattering to the floor. "I will never marry you!"
Mohinder felt the pain in his cheek before he could even register the fact that he had been back handed. He was so startled by the blow -- the first hit he had ever received in his young life -- that he actually found himself tumbling towards the floor, cradling his injured face with wide, startled eyes.
"Little brat!" Thompson sneered, grabbing his shoulder and smacking him a second time.
The young man felt dizzy, light headed. His cheeks were throbbing and he tasted blood in his mouth. Yet the sorcerer backed away before he could strike the young man for a third time. There was a gleam in the older man's eyes, a look that Mohinder did not like, as his gaze settled on the genie who had been watching the entire exchange.
"Alright Genie," Thompson began, a dark smirk spreading onto his features, "I'm ready to make my last wish. I wish for Prince Mohinder to fall desperately in love with me."
Mohinder felt his heart still and his blood run cold at the older man's words. His wide eyes turned towards the genie, who, thankfully, was not complying with her master's request. "Okay, first of all, I have a name," she snapped. "It's Elle, thank you very much. Second, I can't make people fall in love! Those are my rules: no killing, no resurrecting, and no love spells."
This time it was Elle's turn to get slapped, and Mohinder felt himself visibly cringe at the sight. He watched, stunned as Thompson grabbed the startled girl by her throat and dragged her closer. The sight alone was more than enough to get Mohinder's blood pumping. His chains gone, the young man suddenly found himself in a very advantageous position. Slowly, carefully, he slid along the floor, feeling around for something large and heavy that he could hit Thompson with. Mohinder was certain that if he smacked him from behind, he would be knocked out long enough for the young man to grab the lamp and undo his wishes.
He stood, reaching for an ornate elephant statue that had been resting along the floor with the pile of gold. His bare feet hardly made as sound as he snuck up behind the traitor, elephant raised high above his head, ready to slam down on the man's unsuspecting form. Yet, it was then that he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure, pressed flat against a far wall, creeping along the shadows. His hands were trembling as his eyes connected with Gabriel's from across the throne room, the young man sending him a very clear signal to stay calm for just a little while longer as he made his way towards the lamp.
Mohinder frowned, thinking better of his plans. He placed the elephant statue down and instead picked up the crown that was now lying useless at his feet. "Eric," he called, purred, as he picked up the headpiece and rested it on top of his thick black curls. Thompson turned towards him, stunned by the sight of the prince smiling fondly at him. "I never realized how... incredibly handsome you were."
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Gabriel had to admit that his stomach was churning miserably at the sight of Mohinder smiling coyly at Thompson, the boy's lean arms wrapped around the man's neck as he batted his lashes and whispered sweet lies into the sorcerer's ear. It was sickening, but necessary for now. He scanned the room and saw the parrot, perched on top of a stack of jewels with her back turned towards him as she watched the scene transpire. The lamp was on the other end of the room, resting on a small table next to Thompson's throne just a few feet away from the sorcerer and the prince.
He swallowed, his throat tightening. The watchmaker would have to grab the lamp and make the wish without alerting anyone to his presence. He wasn't much for sneaking around, but he had observed Luke doing it for years, so he'd have to give it his best shot.
"Okay, Luke," the young man whispered. "You go get the bird, make sure she doesn't make a sound. I'll grab the lamp."
The monkey didn't even squeak. He merely scurried away, set on completing his task. Gabriel could feel his heart beating in his finger tips as he crouched down low, careful not to make a sound as he crawled across the cool tiles. Mohinder still had Thompson distracted and was doing well not to as much as glance his way. Elle looked confused as she stared at the two men, embracing and whispering tender words to each other. Yet when her sharp blue eyes spotted Gabriel, she was careful to school her features and say nothing. He was inches away now, ducking just behind the throne and able to make out Mohinder's words perfectly.
"I don't know why I didn't see it before," the prince gushed, crooning sweetly to a man who had spent years making his life as miserable as possible. "You're so sophisticated, regal, mature... you've stolen my heart."
"And what about the watchmaker?" Thompson smirked and somehow, without even look, Gabriel could hear the sorcerer's hands caressing Mohinder's thigh.
"A memory," Mohinder whispered back. "He's nothing compared to you."
His hands were trembling as he reached for the lamp. In the distance, he heard feathers ruffling, and muffled words and feared that Thompson might catch it as well. He was just about to grab the lamp's hilt, when a gilded bowl came crashing to the floor mere inches away. His hand jerked back and Gabriel thought for certain he'd been caught. Yet nothing happened.
Taking a risk, he peaked around the corner to see that Mohinder was kissing Thompson, their mouths slammed together and their eyes screwed tight. His stomach felt full, sour, as if he had swallowed spoiled milk as he watched the man he loved kissing someone else. Yet Gabriel took comfort that Mohinder was not enjoying the kiss -- a fact made clear by the way his nose scrunched and his brow furrowed in distaste.
The watchmaker reached again, his hands still trembling -- not nearly as much as before -- as his fingers carefully inched towards their goal. Yet he didn't make it very far. The tips of his fingers had just barely brushed the cool metal surface when suddenly Gabriel found himself slammed in the chest with a burst of red sparks, sending him flying backwards and crashing into the far wall. His chest was burning, his back was screaming, and the world decided to tip and spin from the blow to his head.
"How many times do I have to kill you, kid?" he heard Thompson sneer.
Gabriel blinked several times, his vision clearing just enough to see Mohinder lung at Thompson, trying his best to wrestle the man's staff from his hands. It was no use. Thompson shoved Mohinder away, smacking the young man in the face with the head of his staff and sending him tumbling towards the ground. The watchmaker's vision was engulfed by red as he scrambled to his feet, charging towards Thompson and tackling him to the ground. Thompson was several years older and pampered to the point that his muscles were nearly nonexistent, yet despite his youth, Gabriel didn't have much of an advantage. He was a watchmaker, not a fighter and having spent most of his young life half starving to death left him with a hopelessly bony physique. Needless to say, it was an even fight.
He huffed, gripping the edge of Thompson's staff firmly in his hands as the two men struggled in an attempt to yank and pull the serpent staff away from each other. Gabriel turned his head, craning his neck to see Mohinder getting to his feet. "Get the lamp!" he shouted.
Mohinder didn't need further instruction as he dashed towards the throne.
Yet it was then that Thompson over powered him, sending Gabriel sprawling on his back as he aimed the staff in Mohinder's direction. A beam of red sparks shot out towards the prince. The air around him shimmered, bending until the boy was trapped inside what looked like a giant hourglass. The glass flipped end over end before landing several feet away from the throne and the lamp. Mohinder was lying flat on his back, dazed and shaken, as the sand from the top half poured down on him.
Gabriel grunted, scrambling to his feet to make another attempt at Thompson's staff, but the sorcerer saw him coming. He shoved the boy away with very little effort, just as Luke decided to go for the lamp. Yet Thompson saw that too. He aimed at the little monkey just as Luke managed to knock the lamp off of the table and turned the unsuspecting animal into nothing more than a harmless wooden figure. Carpet swooped in, attempting to snatch the lamp from the floor, but Thompson was too fast for it and turned the rug into nothing more than a harmless pile of thread.
The lamp clattered across the floor, inches away from Gabriel's eager grasp, yet as he reached towards it, he saw the shadow of something falling from the above. His hand jerked back just as a near perfect circle of swords fell from the ceiling, embedding themselves into the hard floor and effectively blocking him from his goal. Thompson laughed, picking up the lamp and tucking it away in his belt.
"Give up kid," the sorcerer sneered. "You're no match for me."
The watchmaker glanced over his shoulder at Mohinder, now ankle deep in sand, at the statue that had once been Luke and the pile of thread that was Carpet. He couldn't give up. With a determined scowl, he grabbed one of the swords, yanking it out of the ground with surprising ease as he charged towards Thompson. Yet before he could even get close enough to the man, the circle of swords trapping him exploded into a perfect ring of fire.
"Are you afraid to fight me yourself you cowardly old snake?" Gabriel snapped. He didn't know why he was egging the man on when he clearly had the upper hand, but his adrenaline was pumping and his hands were itching to spill Thompson's blood.
The fire bent, curving slightly as Thompson walked through it, completely unburned and glared at Gabriel. "A snake, uh?" the man sneered. "Well, maybe we should see how snake like I can be?"
With those words spoken, half hissed, the man's form shifted, expanded, reshaping itself until he was a black and red cobra. His head nearly touched the ceiling, his fangs were as large as the sword in Gabriel's hand, and the circle of fire that had surrounded the boy was now the serpent's thick body. The watchmaker was certain that if he weren't so blind with rage he might have actually been terrified.
The snake hissed, its tongue flicking out from between its mouth before lunging at Gabriel. The watchmaker jumped, rolling out of the way, just as the snake wound up for another lung at him. By the third strike, Gabriel was ready. The cobra bent forward, fangs bore and mouth unhinged and Gabriel swung, the blade of his sword scrapping the thin tongue, and making the serpent recoil in pain.
"Go Gabe!" he heard Elle cheer, saw her jumping up and down in the distance. "Stick that snake good!"
"Stay out of this!" Thompson hissed, frustrated that his own "slave" was on someone else's side.
Yet Gabriel took the distraction, jumping out of Thompson's coils and running towards the hourglass where the prince was still trapped. The sand had already increased and Mohinder could no longer stay above the golden grains that would soon suffocate him.
Thompson must have seen him. He moved his coils so that they perfectly blocked the two boys from each other. The force of the large body hitting the ground was enough to knock Gabriel off of his feet. The sword he had been clutching fell from his hands and slid across the floor.
"Gabriel!" he heard Mohinder cry, struggling to break the glass with his own fists. It wouldn't work. It was too thick.
The terrified look in Mohinder's eyes was all the motivation Gabriel needed. He pushed himself off of the ground and scrambled towards the sword, jumping over the snake's black coils. Thompson lunged at him, but Gabriel was too nimble. The snake missed, smashing the wall of the palace with his thick head and sending bits of debris flying. The watchmaker took that moment to grab his sword and stab it down into the long body. Blood gushed, Thompson hissed in pain, but Gabriel knew it was a small victory. The snake wouldn't die from a minor cut.
However, while the man was distracted, Gabriel decided to trade his sword for a thick piece of wood that had broken off of the wall. He ran towards the hour glass, intent on smashing it to pieces, but once again Thompson blocked him. Mohinder's panicked face, peeking out from above sand that was slowly creeping up his neck, was the last thing Gabriel saw before he was wrapped in Thompson's coils. The snake clenched down on him, squeezing him so hard that the watchmaker couldn't even scream. His body was on fire, his ribs were breaking, and his world was nothing but red lights and pain.
The sound of Thompson's cruel cackling hisses barely registered in his ears, even as the giant snake leaned closer until they were face to face. "I told you kid, you're no match for me," the cobra sneered. "Without your little genie, you're nothing."
In the sea of pain that was his mind an idea actually managed to float towards the surface. Gabriel's eyes drifted towards Elle, who was cowering in a corner, silently pleading for Gabriel to do something brilliant. It was a gamble, not a brilliant one at that, but one that could either undo everything, or make things much worse.
"And so are you!" Gabriel snapped, making sure that his voice was confident and certain so that Thompson would take him seriously.
The snake's red eyes widened at his words, taken aback at the sudden change in demeanor. "What?"
"You heard me! The genie gave you your powers, she can take them away. Face it Thompson, you're still second best!"
That struck a chord; it had to, because Thompson had lived his life one step out of reach from the power he had always wanted, craved, yet unable to gain. That was what had driven him to this and knowing that there was still someone better than him, still someone who would be able to stand above him wasn't something the man would be able to live with.
"You're right," the snake mused, his coils relaxing slightly as he considered Gabriel's words, yet not enough to actually let the boy go. "Her power is greater than mine..." His voice trailed off as the seed of the idea Gabriel had planted began to take root. "But not for long."
Gabriel had to twist around in Thompson's grasp to watch the serpent approach Elle, pinning her with his intense gaze. The girl look frightened confused as her blue eyes darted from Gabriel to Thompson and back again. "I don't know what that kid told you, but it's obviously bull," Elle said, chuckling nervously as Thompson wrapped his coils around her, trapping her where she stood. "Obviously he's punch drunk, not thinking straight. You shouldn't listen to a mad man!"
"Slave," Thompson sneered, silencing Elle and bringing her attention back to him, "I want to make my final wish. I wish to be an all powerful genie!"
Elle groaned, her shoulders slumping morosely as she gave Gabriel one final, sour look before pointing her finger at Thompson. A beam of blue electricity struck the snake, surrounding him until his body twisted, reshaping itself.
The coils around Gabriel evaporated into red smoke. He crashed to the floor with a thud, but the young man didn't stay down for long. He quickly picked up the plank of wood he had been carrying and ran towards the hour glass. The bottom half was completely full, a sight that set his heart skyrocketing even as he shattered the clear surface into a million pieces. Sand came pouring out, surrounding his feet, and underneath it all was Mohinder's prone frame.
"Mohinder," he cried, gathering the limp body into his arms and shaking him vigorously. "Mohinder! Wake up!'
The ceiling shattered, debris rained down on them and Gabriel pressed himself on top of the prince's so it was shielded from harm.
"Gabriel," he heard Mohinder choke, just as the air around them began to churn, whirling as if a tornado had formed in the middle of the palace. "Gabriel, what have you done?"
"Trust me," the young man said, clutching the prince's body close as he scanned the floor for... There.
In the middle of all the rubble there lay a solid black lamp, the end of Thompson's tail unknowingly attached to it. He gave Mohinder one last squeeze before pushing away from him and heading towards the lamp. Thompson didn't see him, he was too busy marveling at his own abilities to notice the golden shackles that had appeared on his now bright red wrists.
"Congratulations, Thompson," Gabriel shouted, raising his voice so he could be heard over the churning wind and the sparks lighting the air. Thompson frowned, turning towards him with confusion lighting his eyes. Obviously he was wondering why his adversary was smirking instead of cowering at his feet. "You got your wish! You wanted to be a genie? You got it and everything that goes with it!"
It was only then that Thompson started to realize that his form, which had grown so massive it could not be contained within the palace walls, was now shrinking, being pulled towards the coal colored lamp cradled in Gabriel's pale hands. He saw the parrot, Candice, attempt to flutter away, but Thompson would not allow it. Just as he was about to be sucked into the lamp, he grabbed the bird's tail and yanked her in with him.
Within the blink of an eye, Thompson was gone.
Epilogue - Happy End in Agrabah
Author: starrdust411
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Mohinder/Gabriel
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The story of a prince, a watchmaker, and the magical lamp that changed their lives.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Aladdin.
Warnings: Humor, Slash, AU, Language
Prologue| Chapter 1| Chapter 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| Chapter 5| Chapter 6
Having spent most of his life in a desert, Gabriel had never really known the cold chill of pure ice. He had wandered the sandy dunes at dusk, when the sun was hidden and the grainy surface felt almost refreshing underneath his calloused feet. Yet here -- surrounded by white powdery snow for as far as the eye could see -- was a new world that he was not ready for.
The tattered rags that he wore were not enough to protect him against the bitter conditions and every inch of him was either numb or burning from the pure intensity of the cold. His teeth were chattering and his breath came out in thick white puffs as he searched the ice world for any signs of something resembling a way out. Yet between the dim gray sky and the sheets of snow that fell before his eyes, Gabriel couldn't make out anything except the large pillar that had once been part of the palace.
Gabriel looked down at his hands, the tips of fingers were quickly turning blue, and his feet -- buried underneath the thick blanket of snow -- barely had any feeling in them. He would be dead in no time at all if he did not escape the snow encrusted prison soon.
Yet there was something that caught his eye, momentarily distracting the young watchmaker from his plight. Less than a foot away, buried within a mound of snow, he could barely make out what looked like a tuft of brown fur.
"Luke," he gasped, scrambling towards the fallen creature. "Luke!"
Luke -- now returned to his true form -- was curled up into a tight, miserable ball, struggling to keep himself warm against the frosty air that was most likely hurting him even worse than it was Gabriel. The watchmaker felt his insides clench as he scooped the creature up and cradled him against his chest. Luke was his pet, his friend, his responsibility, and he had forgotten that.
"I'm sorry Luke," Gabriel practically sobbed, slipping the little monkey underneath his shirt and pressing their bodies together. He may not have been providing much heat at the moment, but it should be at least enough to help keep Luke warm for a little while longer. "This is all my fault. I've made such a mess of everything."
His eyes stung from both the biting wind and the need to cry as he thought about Mohinder and Chandra and Elle and all the people in Agrabah who would be suffering all because he had allowed Thompson to get his hands on the lamp. He never should have agreed to help the man; he should have just stayed in the dungeon where he had belonged. His longing for a better life had blown up in his face, had ruined things for everyone. An entire city was in danger because of him.
Gabriel sighed. It was crazy, insane, but he knew deep inside that he couldn't just sit back and wait for death. Somehow he had to get back to Agrabah and set things right.
It was at that exact moment that he saw a patch of purple fabric lying flat against the snow, seemingly frozen stiff as it lay trapped underneath the huge chunk of the palace. "Carpet!" he cried, running towards the enchanted rug. At least he had his way out. Now the watchmaker just had to come up with a plan.
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Everything had changed so quickly. Less than a day had passed since Thompson had taken power, yet the servants didn't seem to notice. They seemed convinced that the former vizier had always been Sultan and bent to his every whim without question. Mohinder's stomach clenched as he remembered how Captain Parkman had taken his father away to the dungeon without a moment's hesitation, how they had taken Nirand -- now no more than a mere cub -- and locked him in a gilded cage, and how the entire throne room, the entire castle had been transformed at the wave of a hand.
No longer were the walls clean, polished marble decorated with calming hues of blue. Instead they were a fiery red with gilded trim. The regal elephant head that rested on top of the throne had been transformed into a vicious snake with its fangs bared and a hateful gleam in its ruby eyes. Piles of gold, jewels and exotic goods decorated the floors and torches burned, intimidating and unnecessarily warm along the edge of the grand room.
Yet the sky was the worst. Thick, gray clouds of smoke had blocked out the sun ever since Thompson had made himself sultan. Mohinder knew that only a matter of hours had passed since then, but they were so deep and ominous that the prince felt certain they would never disappear.
Prince. Mohinder frowned, thinking over that word carefully. Was he even a prince anymore? He looked down at the outfit Thompson had created for him with his dark magic. Silk red pants hung low on his hips, revealing his navel and barely hiding his most private area. His feet and chest were bare, and a golden ban shaped to resemble a double headed serpent gripped his right bicep. He certainly didn't feel like a prince. He just felt... confused. The young man had never thought much of Thompson, but in all his years, never would he have imagined that the vizier had pictured him in this way.
"Mohinder?"
The boy turned, the heavy golden chains linking his hands together rattling with the movement. He saw the girl -- the petite blonde who had somehow managed to make all of this happen -- standing behind him, an apologetic look on her features as she approached him, careful not to alert anyone else to her presence.
"I just wanted to say, I'm sorry for... everything," she sighed, rubbing her thin arms sheepishly.
He blinked, the pieces slowly falling into place for him. "You're... you're a genie, aren't you?" She nodded. Mohinder sighed. He couldn't blame this girl for Thompson's evil. She was obviously remorseful, sincerely so, while Thompson was relishing in the misery of others. What's more, he knew that as a genie this girl had no other choice but to do as she was told, whether she liked it or not. Thompson was the reason all this was happening. Thompson was the reason that Sylar... the boy, was dead. "Don't be sorry. This isn't your fault."
"I still feel awful," she muttered, scrubbing her golden slippers against the red polished floor.
"Is there any way we can undo this?" Mohinder whispered, mindful that while Thompson wasn't in the room, his parrot was. Knowing that Candice had not only been able to talk, but was also intelligent sent chills down his back. All those times the parrot had flown into his bedchamber while he was dressing... "You can undo the wishes, can't you?"
The genie shrugged. "Yeah, only if someone wishes it all to be undone, but that's not gonna happen. There's no way Thompson will let the lamp out of his sight and, unfortunately, I can't exactly give it to you. You'd have to take it yourself."
Mohinder sighed, looking down at his chains. He wouldn't exactly be able to do anything discretely like this. "This is such a mess."
The girl frowned, worrying her lower lip carefully before putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Would it help to know that his feelings for you were genuine?"
The young man blinked, startled by her question. "You mean, Sylar, erh... Oh dear. What was his real name again?"
"Gabriel," she supplied, a fond smile lighting her features. "And he loved you, really. I've had a lot of masters -- most of them just like Thompson, some of them worst -- and Gabe was the nicest one. All he wanted to do was be with you."
"Well... why didn't he tell me the truth?"
She sighed, her eyes saddening at that question. "Because he didn't think he was good enough for you."
"That's nonsense! I loved him from the moment I met him. I didn't care if he was a prince."
"That's what I said!" she scoffed, crossing her thin arms over her chest. "He wouldn't listen though. He was too insecure... but it was cute."
Mohinder smiled as he remembered the boy he had met in the marketplace, the boy who had saved him without ever knowing his name, the boy who had blushed so fiercely with every word he spoke... and then he remembered the prince, the prince who had charmed him, understood him, had made him feel whole for the first time in his life. His heart swelled knowing that they were one and the same. Yet it didn't matter. Gabriel was gone.
"It was cute," he lamented. "I... I wish I could have saved him. I wish I could have told him I loved him no matter what."
"Oh, he's not dead."
Mohinder frowned, blinking in confusion at the girl's comment. He stared at her and saw nothing but certainty and seriousness in her bright blue eyes. "How... how do you know that?"
The genie shrugged. "I just know," she said, a sly smile forming on her lips. "He loves you too much to just lay back and die."
The young man smiled, the faintest hint of a blush coloring his cheeks at her words.
"Isn't that cute?" The smug, familiar voice sent a shiver down his spine as Mohinder turned to see Thompson approaching the two of them, dark and intimidating in his newly acquired red and black attire. Yet Mohinder didn't so much as flinch as the man stepped towards them, his typical smirk pulling at his lips as he went to grab Mohinder's gilded chains, touching them thoughtfully. "Mohinder, I didn't think you'd take to your new position so well, but here you are, conversing with the help as if you were always one of them. Truly you are quite adaptable, 'Prince.'"
Mohinder scoffed, yanking his chains out of the "sorcerer's" loose grasp and glaring at him. "Laugh all you want, Thompson, but I'll see to it that you're restored to your proper place in the snake pit soon enough."
The traitor was completely unfazed by his words as he used his staff to once again grab Mohinder's chains and pull the boy closer to him. They were inches away, nearly nose to nose and Mohinder wouldn't allow himself to break the gaze and seem weak. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that, Dear Prince?" Thompson sneered. "I'm the sultan now. I have hundreds of servants and guards and even a genie at my beck and call. What's more, I'm the most powerful sorcerer in the world. Do you really think there's anything you could do to me?"
Mohinder didn't blink, didn't flinch even as the older man's hot breath ghosted on his face. "I'll find a way," he declared, jaw set and eyes hardened.
Thompson chuckled, releasing the young man and taking a step back. Yet Mohinder did not get a chance to enjoy the fact that the traitor was no longer invading his personal space. Thompson waved his serpent staff in the air, materializing a golden crown out of thin air as Mohinder's chains shimmered and turned into red sparks of light before disappearing from sight. "How about I make things a bit easier for you, Mohinder?" Thompson smirked, the crown, emitting a haunting red hue as it drifted closer towards the young man. "Marry me."
"What?" He was embarrassed to admit that he actually yelped. His nose wrinkled in distaste as the young man found himself taking an unconscious step back.
"You can go ahead and plan my death, but why not do it in more comfortable surroundings?"
His blood churning at the very nerve of the man. Clearly this was just another way for Thompson to humiliate him, but did the man really think that Mohinder would lower himself into marrying a back stabbing snake in the grass who was more than twice his age?
"You're old enough to be my father you disgusting pervert!" Mohinder sneered, grabbing the crown and throwing it in Thompson's face. The sorcerer raised a hand to block the metal from hitting him, but he wasn't quick enough. One of the pointed edges scrapped the man's cheek before clattering to the floor. "I will never marry you!"
Mohinder felt the pain in his cheek before he could even register the fact that he had been back handed. He was so startled by the blow -- the first hit he had ever received in his young life -- that he actually found himself tumbling towards the floor, cradling his injured face with wide, startled eyes.
"Little brat!" Thompson sneered, grabbing his shoulder and smacking him a second time.
The young man felt dizzy, light headed. His cheeks were throbbing and he tasted blood in his mouth. Yet the sorcerer backed away before he could strike the young man for a third time. There was a gleam in the older man's eyes, a look that Mohinder did not like, as his gaze settled on the genie who had been watching the entire exchange.
"Alright Genie," Thompson began, a dark smirk spreading onto his features, "I'm ready to make my last wish. I wish for Prince Mohinder to fall desperately in love with me."
Mohinder felt his heart still and his blood run cold at the older man's words. His wide eyes turned towards the genie, who, thankfully, was not complying with her master's request. "Okay, first of all, I have a name," she snapped. "It's Elle, thank you very much. Second, I can't make people fall in love! Those are my rules: no killing, no resurrecting, and no love spells."
This time it was Elle's turn to get slapped, and Mohinder felt himself visibly cringe at the sight. He watched, stunned as Thompson grabbed the startled girl by her throat and dragged her closer. The sight alone was more than enough to get Mohinder's blood pumping. His chains gone, the young man suddenly found himself in a very advantageous position. Slowly, carefully, he slid along the floor, feeling around for something large and heavy that he could hit Thompson with. Mohinder was certain that if he smacked him from behind, he would be knocked out long enough for the young man to grab the lamp and undo his wishes.
He stood, reaching for an ornate elephant statue that had been resting along the floor with the pile of gold. His bare feet hardly made as sound as he snuck up behind the traitor, elephant raised high above his head, ready to slam down on the man's unsuspecting form. Yet, it was then that he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure, pressed flat against a far wall, creeping along the shadows. His hands were trembling as his eyes connected with Gabriel's from across the throne room, the young man sending him a very clear signal to stay calm for just a little while longer as he made his way towards the lamp.
Mohinder frowned, thinking better of his plans. He placed the elephant statue down and instead picked up the crown that was now lying useless at his feet. "Eric," he called, purred, as he picked up the headpiece and rested it on top of his thick black curls. Thompson turned towards him, stunned by the sight of the prince smiling fondly at him. "I never realized how... incredibly handsome you were."
-+-+-+-
Gabriel had to admit that his stomach was churning miserably at the sight of Mohinder smiling coyly at Thompson, the boy's lean arms wrapped around the man's neck as he batted his lashes and whispered sweet lies into the sorcerer's ear. It was sickening, but necessary for now. He scanned the room and saw the parrot, perched on top of a stack of jewels with her back turned towards him as she watched the scene transpire. The lamp was on the other end of the room, resting on a small table next to Thompson's throne just a few feet away from the sorcerer and the prince.
He swallowed, his throat tightening. The watchmaker would have to grab the lamp and make the wish without alerting anyone to his presence. He wasn't much for sneaking around, but he had observed Luke doing it for years, so he'd have to give it his best shot.
"Okay, Luke," the young man whispered. "You go get the bird, make sure she doesn't make a sound. I'll grab the lamp."
The monkey didn't even squeak. He merely scurried away, set on completing his task. Gabriel could feel his heart beating in his finger tips as he crouched down low, careful not to make a sound as he crawled across the cool tiles. Mohinder still had Thompson distracted and was doing well not to as much as glance his way. Elle looked confused as she stared at the two men, embracing and whispering tender words to each other. Yet when her sharp blue eyes spotted Gabriel, she was careful to school her features and say nothing. He was inches away now, ducking just behind the throne and able to make out Mohinder's words perfectly.
"I don't know why I didn't see it before," the prince gushed, crooning sweetly to a man who had spent years making his life as miserable as possible. "You're so sophisticated, regal, mature... you've stolen my heart."
"And what about the watchmaker?" Thompson smirked and somehow, without even look, Gabriel could hear the sorcerer's hands caressing Mohinder's thigh.
"A memory," Mohinder whispered back. "He's nothing compared to you."
His hands were trembling as he reached for the lamp. In the distance, he heard feathers ruffling, and muffled words and feared that Thompson might catch it as well. He was just about to grab the lamp's hilt, when a gilded bowl came crashing to the floor mere inches away. His hand jerked back and Gabriel thought for certain he'd been caught. Yet nothing happened.
Taking a risk, he peaked around the corner to see that Mohinder was kissing Thompson, their mouths slammed together and their eyes screwed tight. His stomach felt full, sour, as if he had swallowed spoiled milk as he watched the man he loved kissing someone else. Yet Gabriel took comfort that Mohinder was not enjoying the kiss -- a fact made clear by the way his nose scrunched and his brow furrowed in distaste.
The watchmaker reached again, his hands still trembling -- not nearly as much as before -- as his fingers carefully inched towards their goal. Yet he didn't make it very far. The tips of his fingers had just barely brushed the cool metal surface when suddenly Gabriel found himself slammed in the chest with a burst of red sparks, sending him flying backwards and crashing into the far wall. His chest was burning, his back was screaming, and the world decided to tip and spin from the blow to his head.
"How many times do I have to kill you, kid?" he heard Thompson sneer.
Gabriel blinked several times, his vision clearing just enough to see Mohinder lung at Thompson, trying his best to wrestle the man's staff from his hands. It was no use. Thompson shoved Mohinder away, smacking the young man in the face with the head of his staff and sending him tumbling towards the ground. The watchmaker's vision was engulfed by red as he scrambled to his feet, charging towards Thompson and tackling him to the ground. Thompson was several years older and pampered to the point that his muscles were nearly nonexistent, yet despite his youth, Gabriel didn't have much of an advantage. He was a watchmaker, not a fighter and having spent most of his young life half starving to death left him with a hopelessly bony physique. Needless to say, it was an even fight.
He huffed, gripping the edge of Thompson's staff firmly in his hands as the two men struggled in an attempt to yank and pull the serpent staff away from each other. Gabriel turned his head, craning his neck to see Mohinder getting to his feet. "Get the lamp!" he shouted.
Mohinder didn't need further instruction as he dashed towards the throne.
Yet it was then that Thompson over powered him, sending Gabriel sprawling on his back as he aimed the staff in Mohinder's direction. A beam of red sparks shot out towards the prince. The air around him shimmered, bending until the boy was trapped inside what looked like a giant hourglass. The glass flipped end over end before landing several feet away from the throne and the lamp. Mohinder was lying flat on his back, dazed and shaken, as the sand from the top half poured down on him.
Gabriel grunted, scrambling to his feet to make another attempt at Thompson's staff, but the sorcerer saw him coming. He shoved the boy away with very little effort, just as Luke decided to go for the lamp. Yet Thompson saw that too. He aimed at the little monkey just as Luke managed to knock the lamp off of the table and turned the unsuspecting animal into nothing more than a harmless wooden figure. Carpet swooped in, attempting to snatch the lamp from the floor, but Thompson was too fast for it and turned the rug into nothing more than a harmless pile of thread.
The lamp clattered across the floor, inches away from Gabriel's eager grasp, yet as he reached towards it, he saw the shadow of something falling from the above. His hand jerked back just as a near perfect circle of swords fell from the ceiling, embedding themselves into the hard floor and effectively blocking him from his goal. Thompson laughed, picking up the lamp and tucking it away in his belt.
"Give up kid," the sorcerer sneered. "You're no match for me."
The watchmaker glanced over his shoulder at Mohinder, now ankle deep in sand, at the statue that had once been Luke and the pile of thread that was Carpet. He couldn't give up. With a determined scowl, he grabbed one of the swords, yanking it out of the ground with surprising ease as he charged towards Thompson. Yet before he could even get close enough to the man, the circle of swords trapping him exploded into a perfect ring of fire.
"Are you afraid to fight me yourself you cowardly old snake?" Gabriel snapped. He didn't know why he was egging the man on when he clearly had the upper hand, but his adrenaline was pumping and his hands were itching to spill Thompson's blood.
The fire bent, curving slightly as Thompson walked through it, completely unburned and glared at Gabriel. "A snake, uh?" the man sneered. "Well, maybe we should see how snake like I can be?"
With those words spoken, half hissed, the man's form shifted, expanded, reshaping itself until he was a black and red cobra. His head nearly touched the ceiling, his fangs were as large as the sword in Gabriel's hand, and the circle of fire that had surrounded the boy was now the serpent's thick body. The watchmaker was certain that if he weren't so blind with rage he might have actually been terrified.
The snake hissed, its tongue flicking out from between its mouth before lunging at Gabriel. The watchmaker jumped, rolling out of the way, just as the snake wound up for another lung at him. By the third strike, Gabriel was ready. The cobra bent forward, fangs bore and mouth unhinged and Gabriel swung, the blade of his sword scrapping the thin tongue, and making the serpent recoil in pain.
"Go Gabe!" he heard Elle cheer, saw her jumping up and down in the distance. "Stick that snake good!"
"Stay out of this!" Thompson hissed, frustrated that his own "slave" was on someone else's side.
Yet Gabriel took the distraction, jumping out of Thompson's coils and running towards the hourglass where the prince was still trapped. The sand had already increased and Mohinder could no longer stay above the golden grains that would soon suffocate him.
Thompson must have seen him. He moved his coils so that they perfectly blocked the two boys from each other. The force of the large body hitting the ground was enough to knock Gabriel off of his feet. The sword he had been clutching fell from his hands and slid across the floor.
"Gabriel!" he heard Mohinder cry, struggling to break the glass with his own fists. It wouldn't work. It was too thick.
The terrified look in Mohinder's eyes was all the motivation Gabriel needed. He pushed himself off of the ground and scrambled towards the sword, jumping over the snake's black coils. Thompson lunged at him, but Gabriel was too nimble. The snake missed, smashing the wall of the palace with his thick head and sending bits of debris flying. The watchmaker took that moment to grab his sword and stab it down into the long body. Blood gushed, Thompson hissed in pain, but Gabriel knew it was a small victory. The snake wouldn't die from a minor cut.
However, while the man was distracted, Gabriel decided to trade his sword for a thick piece of wood that had broken off of the wall. He ran towards the hour glass, intent on smashing it to pieces, but once again Thompson blocked him. Mohinder's panicked face, peeking out from above sand that was slowly creeping up his neck, was the last thing Gabriel saw before he was wrapped in Thompson's coils. The snake clenched down on him, squeezing him so hard that the watchmaker couldn't even scream. His body was on fire, his ribs were breaking, and his world was nothing but red lights and pain.
The sound of Thompson's cruel cackling hisses barely registered in his ears, even as the giant snake leaned closer until they were face to face. "I told you kid, you're no match for me," the cobra sneered. "Without your little genie, you're nothing."
In the sea of pain that was his mind an idea actually managed to float towards the surface. Gabriel's eyes drifted towards Elle, who was cowering in a corner, silently pleading for Gabriel to do something brilliant. It was a gamble, not a brilliant one at that, but one that could either undo everything, or make things much worse.
"And so are you!" Gabriel snapped, making sure that his voice was confident and certain so that Thompson would take him seriously.
The snake's red eyes widened at his words, taken aback at the sudden change in demeanor. "What?"
"You heard me! The genie gave you your powers, she can take them away. Face it Thompson, you're still second best!"
That struck a chord; it had to, because Thompson had lived his life one step out of reach from the power he had always wanted, craved, yet unable to gain. That was what had driven him to this and knowing that there was still someone better than him, still someone who would be able to stand above him wasn't something the man would be able to live with.
"You're right," the snake mused, his coils relaxing slightly as he considered Gabriel's words, yet not enough to actually let the boy go. "Her power is greater than mine..." His voice trailed off as the seed of the idea Gabriel had planted began to take root. "But not for long."
Gabriel had to twist around in Thompson's grasp to watch the serpent approach Elle, pinning her with his intense gaze. The girl look frightened confused as her blue eyes darted from Gabriel to Thompson and back again. "I don't know what that kid told you, but it's obviously bull," Elle said, chuckling nervously as Thompson wrapped his coils around her, trapping her where she stood. "Obviously he's punch drunk, not thinking straight. You shouldn't listen to a mad man!"
"Slave," Thompson sneered, silencing Elle and bringing her attention back to him, "I want to make my final wish. I wish to be an all powerful genie!"
Elle groaned, her shoulders slumping morosely as she gave Gabriel one final, sour look before pointing her finger at Thompson. A beam of blue electricity struck the snake, surrounding him until his body twisted, reshaping itself.
The coils around Gabriel evaporated into red smoke. He crashed to the floor with a thud, but the young man didn't stay down for long. He quickly picked up the plank of wood he had been carrying and ran towards the hour glass. The bottom half was completely full, a sight that set his heart skyrocketing even as he shattered the clear surface into a million pieces. Sand came pouring out, surrounding his feet, and underneath it all was Mohinder's prone frame.
"Mohinder," he cried, gathering the limp body into his arms and shaking him vigorously. "Mohinder! Wake up!'
The ceiling shattered, debris rained down on them and Gabriel pressed himself on top of the prince's so it was shielded from harm.
"Gabriel," he heard Mohinder choke, just as the air around them began to churn, whirling as if a tornado had formed in the middle of the palace. "Gabriel, what have you done?"
"Trust me," the young man said, clutching the prince's body close as he scanned the floor for... There.
In the middle of all the rubble there lay a solid black lamp, the end of Thompson's tail unknowingly attached to it. He gave Mohinder one last squeeze before pushing away from him and heading towards the lamp. Thompson didn't see him, he was too busy marveling at his own abilities to notice the golden shackles that had appeared on his now bright red wrists.
"Congratulations, Thompson," Gabriel shouted, raising his voice so he could be heard over the churning wind and the sparks lighting the air. Thompson frowned, turning towards him with confusion lighting his eyes. Obviously he was wondering why his adversary was smirking instead of cowering at his feet. "You got your wish! You wanted to be a genie? You got it and everything that goes with it!"
It was only then that Thompson started to realize that his form, which had grown so massive it could not be contained within the palace walls, was now shrinking, being pulled towards the coal colored lamp cradled in Gabriel's pale hands. He saw the parrot, Candice, attempt to flutter away, but Thompson would not allow it. Just as he was about to be sucked into the lamp, he grabbed the bird's tail and yanked her in with him.
Within the blink of an eye, Thompson was gone.
Epilogue - Happy End in Agrabah