2008-01-18: Error of Ways

WARNING: contains Season 3 Material.


Gabriel_icon.gif Angela_icon.gif

Summary: Angela and Gabriel bargain with lives; revelations are made that could start a war.

Date It Happened: January 18th, 2008

Error of Ways

Gray & Sons

Brooklyn, NYC

It has been an odd few days for Gabriel. Upon returning to find Elle gone from the hotel, the Company after her, Gabriel intended to go see Angela Petrelli and demand answers for what was going on.

But then he hit a snag.

Gabriel had no idea where Angela was. The most he could do was send a package.. but it was far too late in the evening to do so. So Gabriel painted the future, revealing something that horrified and shocked him. The death of Kaito Nakamura. Stopping Peter, however, was out of the question; if Angela wanted a favor, she shouldn't have done what she did.

The next day, Gabriel sent Angela her package. The instructions were simple: 'Gray & Sons, January 18th, 4:00. Come alone.' He trusts that she'll know who it's from.

Oh, she knew who it was from. Angela Petrelli does not like it when conditions are not on her terms. The simple message, 'Gray & Sons, January 18th, 4:00. Come alone.' … that is not on her terms. Yet, at 4:00pm exactly, she arrives. That Angela Petrelli would walk alone for any length of time in the city instead of being delivered by her driver seems absurd, but here she is: dressed against the winter cold in a heavy black-and-white houndstooth coat with a black fur collar. Alone. Perhaps she truly is respecting Gabriel's wishes.

Or perhaps things are more on her terms than she'd like him to believe.

Eyeing the front window of the watch shop beyond the lovely calligraphy stencil of 'Gray & Sons' as she approaches, Angela looks for any signs of life.

She seems to be alone.

It isn't long before Gabriel comes strolling up, hands tucked into the pockets of the black jacket he's wearing, head kept low, eyes on the ground. It wasn't his intention to keep her waiting; he wants to be done with this meeting just as much as she's likely to be, but he had to be sure she wouldn't arrive with anyone else from the Company.

"You're a gutsy woman," Gabriel says to Angela once she's within range, coming to a stop just a few feet from her. "Coming to my hotel, asking me to do your dirty work, and then sending the hounds after Elle. Now your son is out there running free, dealing with what I've struggled with for years. What did you expect to happen?"

Upon witnessing Gabriel's appearance, Angela seems pleased to see him. She turns from the door, which one black-gloved hand was just in the midst of reaching out for to test. Her mouth turns up ever-so-slightly in a subtle, tender smile, despite his contrary reaction to seeing her. "I expected you to have some of that compassion you've been regaining in these last few weeks," she answers calmly. "You're the only one who can truly understand what Peter's going through, what he's capable of. He's not like you. This ability is going to tear him up and spit him out." The woman allows a brief pause before addressing the matter of Ms. Bishop. "Elle's situation is no one's fault but her own— " Then again. "And her father's."

"I don't care whose fault it is, or what her father did!" Gabriel says, his voice already rising to that it's coming close to yelling. He's angry at this woman and the absolute nerve she has. "And for that matter, I don't care what happens to Peter. As far as I'm concerned, he's your problem now. I don't work for you. I never did." He pauses, allowing this to sink in, also allowing for himself to calm down just a notch. "I know about the man Peter is going to kill. I painted it. How many deaths is it going to take, Angela, before you realize the error of your ways?"

Angela casts a quick glance to the Brooklyn street, a subtle hint that she's wary of who may overhear; Gabriel is certainly getting worked up. The woman herself remains calm and collected — save for her eyes. Her stare is intense as it pegs Gabriel. "The man you painted is dead," she states. "Don't you think it's timely, that you've gained control of your abilities only to pass them onto Peter? Whose errors are we talking about? It's not your fault that you made him this way," she says, sympathy stretching out her voice. She steps closer, eyes not leaving the man. "You could make it your mission to fix it. Return the favour he did you. Don't tell me you don't care what happens to him. I don't believe you."

The news that the man he painted is dead does a fair bit to calm Gabriel down, eyes widening for a moment before he regains his composure. His is voice low, but loud enough to carry to Angela's ears. "I'm not in the business of doing favours," Gabriel responds simply, his shoulders rolling in a casual shrug. "I'm in the business of protecting myself and those I care about. You don't fall into either of those categories. I can't trust you. I left to go get painting supplies to see if what you were telling me was the truth, and when I came back…" Gabriel stares at Angela, his gaze stony as he considers the woman in front of him. "Elle was gone. Because of you."

"If you think those you care about are safe— " Angela speaks slowly, as if preparing to soften a blow. That same hint of sympathy, of care, carries on. " —then you're wrong, Gabriel. You know what it's like to have the hunger, consuming you, causing you to be a killer. What will happen if Peter finds you? Elle? She's safer where we can see her, don't you see? Please, you've been like the brothers you were meant to be this past while and now you're turning your back on your duty. If you won't do the right thing by sacrificing him when it's needed the most, that's your choice. On your soul, as well as mine. We're linked, you and I, whether you like it or not."

Angela's words cause Gabriel to lapse into silence, and he stares at the woman as he goes over what she said in his head. She has a good point. Peter being loose, killing people… he is a danger. But what about before? He may have killed people, but when no one else can handle the problem, suddenly he's the one Angela is looking to to take care of her mess? The Company started all of this when they sent Elle and Noah on their mission.

"Where is where you can see her? Locked up in a cell on Level 5? I can take care of myself if Peter comes after me. If I have to, I can protect her, too."

"Elle isn't quite worthy of Level 5," the chairwoman answers dryly with a flicker of a smirk. "I meant what I said when I told her she should just disappear. Take a permanent vacation - on the Company's terms, not this ridiculous flight of a fugitive on the run." A ghost of a smile crosses Angela's features. "What are you going to do now, Gabriel?"

"What about me? Did you ever stop to think for one second that maybe I don't want her to take a permanent vacation?" It's become very hard at this point for Gabriel to resist the urge of taking Angela and slamming her up against the window of Gray & Sons. He could care less if it's in public. He manages to calm the monster, however. For now. Angela's smile is matched with a sneer, and Gabriel shakes his head. "What are you going to do?"

"What I've always done," Angela is quick to answer. "Clean up the indiscretions of my sons." With or without Gabriel, though the wan, thoughtful smile she gives him is just as quick to suggest she wishes it were otherwise. "I understand if you're hesitant to tell me your secrets after this, but know that I never wanted to hurt you. That was the last thing I wanted," the woman says, heavy with sincerity, or something that certainly sounds very much like it. "It was unfortunate that your … affection for Elle got in the way." Another step forward, despite Gabriel's fantasies of violence. One dark brow flickers, smile long gone. "There's something I must know."

The ex-killer's eyes narrow at Angela, unable to figure out her game. She's careful and wise with her words, and they have an effect on Gabriel. She may be one of the few people that actually understand him. This isn't the first time she's said things like this. Things like this have been said before that implied she's had more to do with his life than it seems circumstances would suggest. He finally opens his mouth to speak, and it's with a wary tone that he replies. "What do you need to know?"

The matriarch's eyes also narrow; for all that she understands Gabriel, there's something she doesn't understand, and though her need for knowledge is a different beast than his, the not knowing plagues her. "When you snuck into the Company," she begins, standing close as she watches the man, "You told Elle someone had sent you to kill Bob."

The question doesn't surprise Gabriel, all told. What does surprise him is that it's been this long before someone asked him who exactly did tell him to kill Bob. The answer most likely would shock Angela, but it isn't one he's going to give up so easily. "I'll tell you want to know," he says, eyes still on the woman, "and take care of Peter, if you can guarantee me safety from the Company. But not just me— Elle, too."

Oh, but is it worth it? Is what Gabriel knows so weighty that Angela would be willing to make that deal? The woman's eyes narrow further, scrutinizing. "What do you have that's so important in that complex head of yours?" she asks, almost seeming as if she's wondering aloud, her eyes searching Gabriel, as if she could see into his mind. "I can bide you both time," she says finally, decisive. "I'm not the only one who makes decisions." (But let's face it, her decisions matter the most.)

"Trust me, it's something you would do well knowing. If you can guarantee our safety, I'll tell you. Right here, right now, and then I'll find Peter. Otherwise… if I can't trust you to leave both of us alone, you can deal with your own problems." Gabriel has given his ultimatum, and he watches Angela in silence, his hands still in his pockets. He draws his arms in closer for warmth, the wind a bit chilly at this time of day, but other than that, he doesn't move.

The woman's eyes narrow all the more, crinkling. She considers long and hard. There are many people who undoubtedly would want Bob dead, but zero, that she can think of, who would enlist the likes of Gabriel to do so. "You have my word." Whatever that's worth.

Gabriel doesn't say it outloud, but if Angela goes back on her word… things will be very Not Good for the woman. It's with the barest amount of trust that he reveals what he does. It's something he wanted to continue to play close to the chest.. but if it's what he has to do to guarantee the safety of he and Elle, it's what he'll do. "Arthur Petrelli."

If Gabriel could hear Angela's heartbeat, he'd know that it just skipped, struck cold by shock.

Of course, it's not very likely that he can: she was lying, after all. The Haitian is nearby, as he has been for days.

With her eyes shooting to their widest size, she steps back on the sidewalk in front of the watch shop, recoiling away from Gabriel. The woman's face is caught in an expression very much like terror. She quells it after a moment, darkens it, makes it hard. "That's impossible," she hisses self-righteously. She was the one who killed him, she's allowed to be self-righteous.

The man has no idea the Haitian is around. He has his hearing under control, and he isn't wasting his time listening to Angela's heartbeat. Should he try anything else, however, he's in for a surprise.

Angela's reaction to this news isn't surprising to Gabriel. After all, finding out your husband is still alive is big news. The terror that spreads across her face, however, is surprised to Gabriel, and he takes a step forwards toward Angela, matching her step back.

"It's very possible, actually," Gabriel says, eyes focused on hers. "I saw him. Lying in a bed, tangled in a web of tubing from different machines.. he's not well. Confined to the bed. He told me I was his son. That I had a purpose, that I could be something more than just a killer… and then he told me to kill Bob Bishop. He even told me I could kill you. In fact…" Gabriel cants his head to the side, giving Angela an inquiring look. "He didn't seem very fond of you."

It's a difficult thing to do, striking Angela Petrelli speechless. Gabriel does it. This revelation does it — at least for a spell. She doesn't move a muscle until she finally speaks again. "This is certainly … news," she says tightly. The woman's eyes squint critically into slivers, an eyebrow lifts. "I take it you're not working for him anymore?" It's asked with a certain measure of disbelief, and sounds rather accusing, all told. It's hard to ask a question like that when it doesn't seem grounded in reality yet.

"I don't work for people who lie to me," Gabriel says, "and you would do good to remember that." In other words, she better follow through on her guarantee that the Company will leave he and Elle alone. "Once he told me that my purpose for him was to kill, I decided I wasn't going to do it. After that, I left. They tried to get me to come back, but I didn't. That's…" Gabriel shakes his head, closing his eyes as he remembers what happened next. "After Claire… let's just say all of that made me decide I didn't want to be a killer anymore. Knowing what I had done to people."

Angela puts aside her shock commendably, for the time being, although it certainly resonates in her being — laying roots in every line of her face, blazing somewhere in her eyes. She manages to smile, faintly, for Gabriel. "Good boy," she praises. "You were our always our … crown jewel," she says to him, her eyes gaining a faraway look for just an instant before she snaps back sharply, becoming stern. "You're wise to stay away from Arthur, if what you say is true. If he's truly alive." The woman tips her head back, straightening her posture by increments. "Tell Elle we'd like to have a word. She'll be safe, as will you — for as long as you both control yourselves."

"Good," is the response from Gabriel, skipping over anything in regards to him being their crown jewel. Another time, another place, and he'll get those answers. For now, he has business to tend to. "When Elle is ready, we'll contact you. I'm not taking any risks with the Company. When we meet, it will be on our terms. Now if you'll excuse me… I have to go deal with your son." With that said, Gabriel turns from Angela and begins to walk down the street. If she has nothing else to say or doesn't try to stop him, he'll disappear around the next corner.

Angela does not try to stop Gabriel — nor does she say another word. She watches him go, deeply thoughtful. When he's out of sight, the Haitian steps up beside her, a tall, protective presence. Barely glancing over to acknowledge him, continuing to eye the length of the street Gabriel walked down, Mrs. Petrelli says hard-heartedly: "He has too many misgivings. Just in case, we'll carry on with Plan B."

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