2008-01-19: Tragedy Calls

Starring:

Elle_icon.gif Gabriel_icon.gif Peter_icon.gif

Summary: Gabriel and Elle share a phone call, and Peter interrupts.

Date It Happened: January 19th, 2008

Tragedy Calls


Brooklyn, NYC - Gray & Sons

After his meeting with Angela yesterday, Gabriel has been on the search for Peter Petrelli. However, with the lack of a special ability like Molly's, or the ability to teleport from one place to another, this has left Gabriel with doing it the old fashioned way. Only… it's not working out so well.

He's currently at his watchshop, trusting that the Company or anyone else will leave him alone. He's staring at a small pile of watches, some of those left behind that weren't sold, and trying to figure out what to do next. It's starting to get frustrating, and this is evidenced when he picks up a watch and throws it across the room in anger.

—-

A long way from the watch shop, Elle is lying in a bed that is not her own, her head turned to watch the wind rattle the branches of the tree outside. Beneath the blue and white quilt, she is in a sorry state; most of her is covered in bruises, some much more severe than others, and a brace on her left arm keeps her hand from moving. In her free hand, she toys with a locket, flipping it open and then closing it again, brushing her thumb over the surface.

A middle-aged woman steps into the room with a mug of tea, setting it on the table beside the bed. Elle turns to look to her hostess with a swift, appreciative smile. "Thanks," she says quietly - almost sheepishly - as the red-haired woman turns away, before pushing herself up to sit with her back against the headboard. It garners a wince, but she grits her teeth and reaches for the mug.

Her hand stops just above it, hovering in the steam, as her eyes fall on the phone left on the table. It's been switched off since she fled from the hotel, and now she stares at it with a conflicted expression. Does she, or doesn't she? Biting her lip, Elle finally snatches the phone up from the table. Once it's powered on, she pulls a piece of paper from her pocket and dials the number written there.

—-

Back in Brooklyn, right in the middle of Gray & Sons, a phone begins to ring.

Gabriel's head snaps up, unable to locate the source of the ringing at first. With all the paint supplies scattered about, the leftover watches on top of that, and the constant state of a general mess the shop has been in since Gabriel abandoned it, it's hard to find the phone. He begins to sort through all of the painting materials, pushing pictures off into the floor, knocking over an easel in the process, finally finding the phone. Eyeing the number, he waits a moment before he flips it open, a sense of urgency in his voice. "Hello?"

—-

At first, Elle is reluctant to say anything at all. It's clear that there is someone there; hearing him answer the phone is reason enough to let out a quiet sigh of relief, even if she doesn't speak immediately. Fixing her eyes on the window again, Elle takes a deep breath. "Gabriel?" Her voice is quiet and apprehensive.

When nothing is said at first, Gabriel repeats the greeting. "… Hello?" He can tell someone is there. He has hopes for who it is, but he's not quite sure. However, when he hears Elle's voice, he closes his eyes, lets out his own sigh of relief, and slowly sits down in one of the chairs. "Elle," he replies. "Are you okay?"

—-

"I've been better," she admits, grimacing once more as she shifts in the bed slightly. "But I'll live." Elle falls silent then, as if she hadn't thought about what she might say after this point. Frowning at her own hesitation, she shakes her head. "Are you okay?"

—-

"Yes, I'm okay," Gabriel responds, leaning forward in his chair. His eyes fall on the painting of Kaito Nakamura, dead on the roof of the Deveaux building. He wants to ask her where she is, but considering someone could be listening, he refrains. "… Elle," he begins, unsure of what to say next, and there's a small sigh before he finally speaks. "I was worried about you."

—-

"You didn't need to be," Elle replies, her tone dismissive. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." Holding her injured arm out in front of her, she turns it first one way, then the other, looking over the brace with a scowl. "Son of a bitch broke my arm, though." Exaggeration. It's a fractured wrist and it's not nearly as bad as it could have been. She's quiet for a few seconds, her tone softer when she speaks again. "I'm okay. I'm in a safe place. I wanted to call before, but I— I couldn't. Have you talked to Peter?"

—-

Gabriel fall silent for a long moment, listening to Elle speak. Even after she's finished, he's still silent, eyes glued to the painting of Kaito. He tears them away, standing from the chair as he begins to pace around the shop. "Well. I'm still glad you're okay," he offers, moving to the table he had setup for their tea. "No, I haven't talked to Peter. Not yet. I'm looking for him. He killed someone, Elle, and he.. he has my ability." He pauses again, before finally saying what's he wanted to since the moment he picked up the phone. "I spoke with Angela Petrelli. She's agreed to leave you alone. I had to bargain with her, and the Company still wants to talk to you, but it can be on your terms."

—-

"What?" How has everything gone so badly in such a small amount of time? Elle sits up straighter in the bed, but the sharp movement elicits a hissed curse at the pain it causes her. She's hardly heard a word of what he's said after 'killed someone,' though later she'll remember what he said and consider the remark about the Company and her future. Right this very second, her entire focus has shifted to Peter. "How— what— " She makes a sound of frustration. "What the hell happened?"

—-

It's Elle's sound of frustration that gets to Gabriel, and once again, he collapses into his chair, running his hand over his face. "I don't know," Gabriel says, and the frustration in his own voice is quite clear. Having been cooped up here for a day trying to figure out how to find Peter has started to get to him. "He has my ability, and you know it comes with the hunger, and… Maybe he read my mind, or something, figured out a way to access it… all I know is he's out there, probably struggling with it, and there's no way of knowing if or when he's going to kill again. I've been looking for him, but I can't find him."

—-

Tipping her head back against the headboard, Elle wants nothing more than to spring up out of this bed and run out of the house in search of Peter. She wouldn't have a hope in hell of stopping him if it came to a confrontation, but she could try to speak to him, derail his thoughts… help him the way he helped her.

There are two problems with that. One, while she's reasonably certain Peter wouldn't have left New York City, she isn't anywhere near the metropolis. Two, she's absolutely certain that if he doesn't want to be found, he won't be. These realities only serve to frustrate Elle even more.

"So what do we do?" Looping the chain of the locket around her injured hand, she holds the necklace up before her, watching it spin with a distant expression. "We have to help him." Help, not stop. "So how do you find someone who can't be found?"

—-

A shift in the air. Suddenly, Peter Petrelli stands in the watch store, holding something small in his hand. Silver circle links, a circle of red stones surrounding glass. It's broken whatever it is. A bracelet? No, it's a watch. He's bringing a broken watch to a watch repair store. As his eyes open, he looks around once. There. "This is your fault," he yells, waving his filled hand at the man and attempting to lift him into the air and throw him against the wall of his own shop.

—-

"I have no idea," is Gabriel's response for Elle. He sounds lost. "Even if I could find him, it's not like he can't teleport away. He told me that when he was the bomb he thought about going to Nevada. A desert somewhere, so he couldn't hurt any—" Gabriel doesn't have time to finish his sentence. Next thing he knows, Peter is in the shop, yelling at him about how it's all his fault, and he's flung across the room, slamming into a wall, sliding down it to the floor. The phone leaves his hand, bouncing off of the wall and landing somewhere on the floor, but somehow the connection is still established. Elle will be able to hear everything.

How do you find someone who can't be found? Wait for him to come to you. It seems Gabriel's luck is looking up in his search for Peter… at least as much as it can. "What's my fault?!" Gabriel says, slowly standing from the floor as he looks at Peter. He didn't enjoy that.

—-

The clatter of the phone striking the floor elicits a wince from Elle, but it's only when she hears Gabriel's distant voice that she realizes what happened. She'd thought she might have heard Peter in the background, but she couldn't be certain - not until now. "Gabriel?!" Not that yelling into the phone is going to help. She can't expect him to answer. As a deep frown settles onto her face, she allows the necklace to slip from her hand and fall into her lap, lowering her injured arm to the bed. For now, she'll listen to as much as she can.

—-

"All of this. Everything," Peter says, giving him enough time to start to stand from the floor. The phone that fell to the ground is ignored— it's of little consequence. He doesn't even think about it still working. He doesn't control what he said. The watch gets put down on the table, almost delicately— that's the last delicate motion he might see. "None of this was supposed to happen!" The hand raises up, suddenly crackling with electricity. Electricity that flies across the room toward his chest.

—-

The electricity is unexpected, and Peter has the element of surprise. It slams into Gabriel's chest, sending him right back into the wall. He takes a moment to recover, allowing for the skin on his chest to heal over from the burns. The front of his jacket and shirt, however, remain burnt. "Everything? Really?" Gabriel says, unable to hide the contempt in his voice. "You're the one who read my mind, or messed with my head, or whatever it was you did to take my ability. This is all your fault, Peter! Not mine!" If Peter wants to use electricity, Gabriel can play that game. His right hand is up in a flash, electricity shooting across the room at Peter, aimed right for the man's chest.

—-

The counter attack strikes him in the chest, sending Peter flying back to the other side of the room. His shirt catches on fire, but only smolders a little. He doesn't need to pull it off as he rolls to get back to his feet. "I didn't do anything except try to help you! Because you asked me to. Help a murderer who killed me, my niece, a woman I might have loved— and god knows how many other people!" Eyes settle on the man, but this time he doesn't fling his hand around, he just focuses on another feeling— specifically… pain. For the man in front of him. There's no reason this pain should be happening, no trigger to set it off. Just pain. As if his own nervous system has turned against him. "Because I tried to help you… she is gone."

—-

"You did something more than that!" Gabriel screams back, ripping his jacket off. It's just going to get in the way. "I never told you how to use it! I didn't want to do that to you, to make you struggle with it!" Gabriel doesn't attack. If he can calm Peter down, just somehow get through to him.. explain to him what's going on, maybe he can avoid this fight. "You murdered someone, Peter, but you're not a killer. It wasn't you. It's the hunger." Suddenly, pain erupts out of nowhere in Gabriel, and he staggers, falling to one knee, bringing a hand up to his chest. He doesn't understand. Peter's not doing anything.. is he? "What are you doing?" he rasps, his other knee hitting the ground now. "St— stop!"

—-

"…How do you know about that?" Peter asks, what he said finally clicking into place. The active source of the pain stops, his nervous system no longer attacking him quite as hard. The fact that there's shock in his voice might give him the knowledge that, yes, it was an ability causing that pain. Something without the same visual effects. Except for the fact that his eyes look darker than before, almost as if the small traces of green has vanished from his eyes. "How can you possibly know about what happened?" It's a total change of topic, really, but it's struck something. The people who took Elena— they knew. They know what happened. They told her. "Where is Elle!?" Shouldn't she be with him? He casts a quick glance around. He hadn't seen her when he teleported in, or when he looked for Gabriel. It hadn't struck him as a possibility that it was anything other than her going somewhere else for a short time. It's not the case now. Now he's leaping to other conclusions.

—-

"Elle isn't here!" Gabriel says, slowly picking himself up from the floor as the pain dulls. He has no idea what just hit him, but he would prefer that he isn't hit with it again. Completely glossing over Elle, Gabriel continues to speak about Peter's murder. "I know about you because I painted it. The man you killed. You did what I did to people. Cut into his head." He's standing now, breathing a bit heavier than usual, but he's quickly recovering.

—-

"Where is she?" Peter asks again, not letting it get glossed over. Hints of pain and of guilt start to dance into his eyes, causing them to lower in his scan of the room. That sign of guilt— it seems to slacken his shoulders, pull some of the fight out of him. He's done his best to hide away, avoid people. But. Something snaps. Even after the description of his crime is read out, even if he should feel guilty for what he did, or what was done by the hunger he'd tried to use as reason to defend the man in front of him. "You killed me." His arguments are so scattered for some reason. Without proper goal. "In the future I travelled to. You murdered me. You took my place. You lived my life for almost two years. And you fooled everyone. I think you did that— because deep down… you wanted to be me." After saying this, he lashes out again, a telekinetic push.

—-

"I'm not going to tell you where she is," Gabriel says, stepping forward. He's at the ready, expecting Peter to lash out with something else, waiting for it to come. "I can't risk you finding her and hurting her, too." Gabriel opens his mouth to further respond to Peter, specifically the fact he killed him, but what he says next throws the ex-killer offguard. He takes a step back, Peter's words sinking in and striking home. "Be you?" Gabriel says, taking another step forward, advancing on Peter. "I don't want to be you. I never did, and I never will. I don't have to be you. People will accept me for who I am, Peter. If they don't, I can't make them. But the people who are important to me… the people who count, THEY are." The telekinetic push forces him back a few steps, but he ignores it, pushing back with his own telekinesis as he continues to advance, making up for the ground he lost. "Your own mother wants me to kill you." The words flash in his mind again, what Angela whispered to him that day in the hotel. When she told him to be the hero Peter wants him to be.

"It's very important that you listen to me, Gabriel. Peter is not the saviour you think he is. Because of you he understands more than he should. I've seen it. He'll become like you were, compelled by hunger. You must stop him before he kills. He's not strong like you are, Gabriel."

"She told me you weren't strong like I am. That it's not my fault, what's happened to you…" Gabriel looks at Peter, shaking his head sadly. "I'm beginning to believe it."

—-

What's said in response to his claim seems to physically stagger Peter. He actually takes steps back, away from Gabriel the further he gets, unable to keep eye contact now. It seems that the taller man won that round of verbal bashing. Once his shoulder blades are up against the far wall, he finally looks up. Why would his mother want him dead? "I guess the Company did want you for something after all." That's all he'd wanted to know. It's probably not the all of it, but at least he knows now, in part, what they would have wanted.

"I would have never hurt Elle. I wanted to know where she was because I thought they took her too." No forced pain, but he does move, a wave of his hand which rips some of the clocks off the wall and sends them flying across the way at the other man. Each sentance is punctuated with a flying wall-clock. "She told me the truth. She helped me. She believed in me. Loved me. I loved her. Why would I ever have hurt her?"

—-

"Because you can't be trusted," Gabriel says, bringing his arm up to deflect the first clock. It bounces off of his elbow, sending that funny tingling sensation up his arm, but he ignores it. "You can't control it! That much is obvious when you murdered someone!" He continues to block the clocks flying at him, but the last one manages to get through, bouncing of the side of Gabriel's face.

He staggers back, one hand moving up to feel the blood that's coming out of his cheek now, the jagged corner of the clock clock having ripped the flesh open on contact. It begins to heal over, his cheek sewing itself together, and Gabriel looks back at Peter, wiping the blood on his shirt. "The Company didn't take Elle," he finally says, "she's in a safe place."

—-

The moment the last clock hits, Peter lets himself calm down— at least enough to stop tossing things across the room at him. Physical things. There's heavy breaths for a time. He murdered someone. He can't control it. There's a hint he'd like to argue with some of that, but instead all that happens is that flash of guilt, something he'd probably be familiar with. "You care about her, don't you?" he asks, shaking his head as he leans against the wall. "Has she told you she loves you, yet?" Though they're soft words, there's a harshness to the tone. A crackle of electricity rolls up his arm, and as before, it flies across the room. No more clocks, but he's throwing other things now.

—-

When Peter calms down, Gabriel thinks that he may have finally gotten through to him. Still, he's tense, anxious, and at the ready for any other attack that might come his way from Peter. The question about Elle disarms him, however, and he looks at Peter for a few moments before finally answering. "… Yes," he says, eyes still on Peter's, "I do care about her." The next question disarms him even further, and because of it, he isn't ready for what follows after it. "No, she hasn't, but I'm—" Bam. The electricity hits, knocking Gabriel back a few steps, and he trips over one of the clocks from before, falling to the floor.

Head bouncing off of the hardwood floor, Gabriel sees stars for a moment, and as his chest slowly heals over from the electricity, he narrows his eyes, grits his teeth, and stands. He's through with this game. The next thing Peter will know, Gabriel is running across the room at him, and should he get in range, he's going to start laying into him the old-fashioned way. With his fists. Of course, there'll be a little bit of extra boom added, thanks to Ted Sprague.

—-

Boom. Boom. Each blow lands heavily. It could be Peter didn't even really try to stop them, or maybe he's just so stuck on his own emotions that he's left completely open. His jaw cracks on one punch, the nuclear fists leave behind scortches on his cheeks, and he ends up falling to the floor and staying there. From the way his shoulders shake, he could almost be sobbing, but the ears tell different. He's laughing.

"Because she loved me, I believed I could control myself once." He almost seems to find this humorous. Unaware that there's a phone that might take what he's saying hundreds of miles so she can hear it. "I never got to tell her that I loved her back. Because of the Company— because of her father— because of you." He looks back up now, the laughter gone from his eyes. "What did the Company promise you in exchange for murdering me?"

He doesn't stand. He flies. Right at the man. Apparently with the intention of ramming them both into the side wall.

—-

Once Peter falls to the floor, Gabriel steps back, breathing heavily as he looks at the fallen man. The glow in his fists slowly dies until it's faded completely, and he takes another step back, the laughter coming from Peter doing more than a little to unnerve him.

Listening to the other man's words, Gabriel slowly steps back, and he doesn't stop, putting distance between himself and peter. "You two— were in love?" he says, many emotions passing over his face. Confusion. Jealousy. Anger. Sadness. His eyes fall to the floor, and he stares at a random spot on it, Peter's words still on his mind. He doesn't even know how to answer Peter's last question. "Peter," he begins, beginning to look up at the man, "I'm not going to kill y—" Next thing he knows, Peter is flying at him, and he connects, right into Gabriel's stomach. They both go flying back, Gabriel slamming into the wall and almost straight through it, wood chips and drywall flying around them. Somewhere inside a pipe bursts, water starting to stream into the watchshop now, the pipe bent at a dangerous angle facing outwards.

—-

Hitting the wall hard wasn't just for one of them… both of them did. Though Peter had it a little better. Gabriel absorbed most of the impact. Rolling away, he pushes himself to his feet. The woodchips and dry wall hang from his hair, from his burnt clothes, and mixed with the fresh blood, a lot of his face is obscured. As he starts to push to his feet, he yells, "Why not? It's what my mother wants, isn't it? Wouldn't it buy you your freedom? Her freedom? Both of their freedoms…" The first part is yelled, the second part softer. Both of them. The firmness comes back. "Wouldn't it make everyone safe— if you just killed me?"

Arguing for something else all together now. He takes in slow breaths. "Maybe you don't know how." There's no sound as something gets moved from one place to another, relocated. It's a handgun. Click. The safety is turned off and he raises it toward the other man. But he doesn't fire. He's having trouble standing, his hand is shaking a little.

—-

Maine

Back in her borrowed room, Elle has been listening on the other end of the phone, rapt, while all of this has unfolded. It's unclear exactly how much she's heard, but there's no question that some of the words have gotten through. Particularly those last; when Peter all but begs Gabriel to kill him, Elle makes a sound. "Gabriel, don't." Not that he can hear her. She knows that. But the words come before she can stop herself. This? This is worse than watching a trainwreck. Or… listening to one, as it were.

—-

Brooklyn, NYC

"Because then everything I'm fighting for is for nothing!" Gabriel yells in response, the reason he won't kill Peter. "I only bargained with Angela so Elle and I could be free. I never told her I would kill you. I told her I would take care of you, and…" The rest of his sentence goes unsaid, and he looks at Peter for a few moments, before shaking his head in frustration. "I never agreed to kill you."

When the gun appears, Gabriel's eyes fall towards it, looking at it as if it repulses him. "This isn't you, Peter. You're not a killer." His eyes move to the floor for a moment, his head turning slightly to the right. He then looks up at Peter, a hard look on his face as he watches the other man. He brings his hand up, swiping it at the gun, intending to slap it out of Peter's hands, or at the least, where it's not pointed at him anymore. "Get that out of here."

—-

The hand gets pushed away, so that he's no longer pointing it him. It hadn't really been intended for him in the first place. The gun falls out of his hand, toward the broken floor with all the other objects. But it doesn't fall in the right direction. A small flick of a finger and it slides over to sit at the feet of the watchmaker.

"I am now," Peter says, looking back up at his eyes, voice quiet. "I know how to kill you. I knew when I went after you." The time that they fought, he'd had plans, many of them. Though breathing comes rough, he actually seems disappointed. "I knew how to kill you, because I saw you die. I was right there— right in front of you— watching— as someone shot you through the back of the head, and then cut your head off with a sword. You didn't get back up."
If it worked on the Sylar of the future, surely it would work against either of them, right? "How exactly do you intend to take care of me?"

—-

When the gun comes to a stop at his feet, Gabriel's eyes slowly travel down to look at it. He contemplates it and what it can do. It can end all of this. Right here, right now. It's like Angela said. He took Claire's ability, he knows how it works. The words of Peter, shocking as they are, only help to cement it. His death in the future is proof that even with Claire's ability, they can still die. A future where, at least he can assume by what Peter says, he was still the boogeyman.

One bullet through the head, and it's over. He extends his hand over the gun, palm facing downward, and it quickly lifts up off of the floor, flying directly into his hand. He points it at Peter, looking at the man through the sight, eyes narrowing. Is this how he intends to? After everything he's said, kill Peter?

Three words fall on Gabriel's ears, even if they're only in his mind. Be. A. Hero. Gabriel can't help Peter if he kills him. There's a click, and the magazine slides out of the gun, clattering on the floor. He pulls the slide back, ejecting the final bullet, and he throws the gun past Peter, out of sight. "I don't know how, but we can help you. Just like you tried to help me."

—-

There's a moment when Peter seems to settle, the anger draining out of his face, a hint of relief starting to show in his eyes… and then the gun gets dismantled. For a moment he blinks, looking at each of the pieces fall away, the bullets dropping to the floor. The empty gun gets tossed at him. "You can't help me," he yells, closing his eyes and vanishing. He doesn't teleport far— or maybe he stopped time. It's hard to say exactly. One moment he's standing a good distance away. A few seconds past, and he's right in front of the man who once claimed to be his brother.

One swing straight to the face. There's no nuclear force behind his punches, but there's something else— the power of a blonde woman he technically met the night he exploded. "It's too late," he adds punctuating it with another punch. "I tried to stop it! I tried to take it back! I tried to fix it. And it's too late." Each time he tries to swing at him.

—-

Most people, should you choose not to kill them, would react in a GOOD way. Peter, however, is going to react in a bad way it seems, and when he disappears, Gabriel puts one foot back, eyes traveling over every area of the shop he can find. "Peter," he says, although his voice isn't loud and doesn't carry far. Then, suddenly, Peter is right in front of him.

Gabriel doesn't even have time to react, the first punch is so strong. It staggers him, causing him to reel back, but Peter is right there throwing punch after punch. "How do you think I feel?!" Gabriel says, trying to fend off the blows, his words muffled by the blows and his arms trying to protect his face. "I can't take any of what I did back either, Peter! You'll have to deal with it! We'll help you deal with it!" The final punch lands and there's a soft cracking noise as Gabriel's nose breaks, blood steadily dripping out of his nostrils immediately afterwards. As soon as it lands, Gabriel reacts, and there's a telekinetic push that goes outwards from Gabriel, almost as if a giant bubble expanded around him, intending to push Peter back and away from him.

—-

When pushed, Peter pushes back. That doesn't mean he doesn't get thrown, but a telekinetic burst tries to do the same thing to Gabriel. Landing heavily into one of the display tables, he ends up rolling on the floor, groaning in pain as his body tries to fix itself. His eyes end up on a watch he brought with him, spilled on the floor. The blue loop of stones has broken off— it had been broken originally. He reaches out and touches it. "We who?" he asks— as the watch vanishes, relocated to a safer place. There's water on the floor of the watch shop, starting to spread in places thanks to the busted pipes. As he pushes himself back up, he's getting wetter. And wetter.

"I killed Hiro's father. Do you honestly believe he'll ever forgive me? My own mother wants me dead… because I'm not strong enough. You said it yourself." It almost makes him laugh again. "And her people kidnapped someone I love. And if I don't turn myself over to them, they might kill her. And it'll be my fault. Just like…" He doesn't finish.

The room is damp. He's damp. This is the last ability he should call up. But he does anyway. Electricity springs up from his hands, causing him to scream in pain as he tries to send it across at the other man too. By the time the flow stops, he's back on his knees, twitching painfully.

—-

The telekinetic push is enough to force Gabriel back, pushing him into the wall in almost the same place PEter slammed him into it with flight. He gets wetter and wetter as he stands there, finally pushing himself up after a few deep breaths. His nose begins to heal, broken cartilage healing itself over. The blood remains, smeared on his upper lip and cheek, and he steps forward… right into a pool of water that's been gathering on the floor.

What Peter does next is insane, and he and Gabriel both know what happens when you mix electricity with water. It follows the path of the water straight to Gabriel, traveling up him and shocking him just as bad as Peter, causing the man to fall forward. When Peter finally stops using the ability, the electricity ceases, and Gabriel lies there on the floor, twitching painfully as well. "We.. all can," he says, the words rasping out, his heavy breathing. Skin is scorched and charred, but its slowly fixing itself.

—-

They're both a wreck. Peter showed him the effect of this ability mixed with water— he knows what would happen to the both of them. From where he's knelt down, twitching, it's possible that he's just fried the fight right out of himself. It hurts so much. It should hurt so much— but when he looks back up, his eyes are a different color. They're nearly green. The green in his eyes washes the pain away, making his body ignore what it's going through, tricking his nervous system into forgetting about the pain even as it happens.

This gets him back on his feet. It carries him across the watchshop to grab onto Gabriel's scortched clothes. "How can I believe you? How could I ever believe you? You told me we were brothers. And we're not. You told me you'd be there when I got back, and you weren't. You told me you couldn't remember where you put Hiro's sword, and then you gave it back to him." He doesn't beat him, but he is forcing him to his feet.

—-

Unfortunately for Gabriel, he doesn't have the power to make his nervous system forget. So when Peter is getting to his feet, Gabriel is still on the floor, twitching, struggling to push himself up. His body was starting to get tired to begin with from the stress of fighting Peter, and the electricity only helps put him in worse shape.

With Peter's help, or force, rather, Gabriel manages to make it onto his feet, lifting his head up to look at Peter. "I know," he says, closing his eyes. "When I found out we were brothers… I was lied to. I thought it was the truth. I know I left, but I had to. I couldn't bear sitting around doing nothing, knowing what I had done. And Hiro's sword, I— I just couldn't trust you, then, Peter. I didn't know if you were truly trying to help me or not."

—-

"You could have told me when you knew." Peter says, hauling him a few feet over, pulling him along. "You could have told me." He continues to hold him up, as if the green in his eyes that takes away his pain has also given him a little additional physical strength. Even then, he's always been strong for someone of his general size. He haults him over a few extra feet, close to where the water pipe's jutted out of the wall that he flew them into. "You didn't trust me. You didn't believe in me. And even when you did— you still didn't tell me."

There's a growl of anger and he throws the taller man away from him, shoving him in the direction of the broken wall. The green in his eyes is starting to go out, he's losing hold of the ability.

—-

The man opposite Peter doesn't do anything in retaliation. He simply looks at the man, apology etches into the lines of his face, and he shakes his head again. "It's not like I did it on purpose, Peter, not telling you— it just never came up. I had other things to worry about. We had other things to worry about, like we do now. You can fight this. I can help you." Gabriel brings both of his hands up, intending on grabbing Peter's arms to try and coax him out of this, calm him down, just get him to a point where he'll listen. It doesn't seem like that's going to come, however, because Peter has thrown him backwards.

Gabriel is at Peter's whim, and he has nothing to resist the force put on him, and he stumbles backwards, right into the pipe sticking out of the wall. He was lucky enough to avoid it the other times, but not this time. The pipe stabs him straight through the back, bursting out of his chest at the same angle it's jutting out of the wall, covered in his blood. There's a sharp intake of breath from Gabriel, a gasp, and then a soft, strangled sound of pain. "Peter." He tries to move forward, pushing himself off of the wall, but he can't. The pipe is bent at too odd of an angle, and he doesn't have the strength. He can't heal with the pipe in his chest, and he's stuck where he is, eyes moving to Peter, shock on his face as his eyes go wide.

—-

A few weak steps forward, Peter makes his way the same distance he shoved the man, hand moving up to his side as he's practically standing eye to eye with him. Or would, if they were near the same height. As it is, the pipe going through the man's chest is at around his shoulder, in that odd angle. He could probably lift him off of it, if he took the time, exerted the power— but he doesn't. The man will stay, with the pipe shoved into him.

"You said this— this power— would give me answers, understanding. You lied about that too. All it made was more questions." Questions he has to have answered— questions that he's hurting people to get those answers to. Questions that are destroying him, one day at a time. "I can't stop until I understand." He almost seems to be pleading with him to do what he can't do on his own. Understand.

—-

Gabriel is still struggling to get himself off of the pipe. He's growing weaker by the second, and he's fading fast. He brings his hands in front of him, gripping the pipe, seeing if maybe he can pull it through himself, but he can't. He's too weak, and his blood makes the pipe slippery. He can't get a good enough grip. Even if he could, it's still attached to the wall.

"Peter," Gabriel says, eyes lifting up from the bloodied pipe to meet Peter's. When all Peter does is talk, he calls out another name. "Elle!" Maybe she can hear him. He doesn't even know if the phone is still working at this point, but he has no one else to help him. It's with reluctance that he looks back to Peter, shaking his head. "I can't help you now, Peter." He struggles with the pipe once more, trying to somehow get himself off of it and out of this situation, but he can't. His eyes slip close, and eventually, his hands slide off of the pipe, falling to his sides as his entire body goes slack.

—-

Elle? The yelling of the name makes him look around as the other man gives up on helping him, and dies. Peter knows he'll come back— though he could easily make it so he won't, but he's looking for something… He was on the phone when he arrived. It takes him a minute of moving things around, before he finds the phone, a miracle that it's avoided most of the water. "Elle?" he asks, bringing it up to his head. Was she on the phone the whole time? He sounds weak, tired, and with a heaviness in his voice, as if he's lost hope.

—-

Silence on the other end. If Elle was there, she isn't any more. It's possible that her battery died, or that she simply hung up somewhere in the midst of their altercation, or a number of other reasons why the connection may have dropped. No matter the cause, Peter receives no response.

—-

Dead air. Peter stays silent for a few seconds, before he lets out a growl and throws the phone across the room, up against the wall right next to Gabriel's head. Still hanging from the pipe. He looks at him for a long moment, before he closes his eyes and disappears. There's a lot he needs to do… And who knows how much time they'll give him.

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