A/N: In case the title or the summary didn't clue you in, there's a strong expression of homophobia contained in this story. Also warning for mild violence, ugly and vicious curse words. No sex. This is set in the Shattered Salvation AU. Peter and Gabriel have been together for about six months here, so it's past where Salvation of Acceptance is at the moment, timeline-wise. No spoilers for anything, though.

Peter and Gabriel were walking down the street, holding hands, thinking nothing of it. Dinner had been nice. So had the late night comedy show. They could have found somewhere discreet and teleported directly home, but the night was mild and they enjoyed the walk.

Peter realized later that the group coming up on them from behind had said the word "faggot" three times before he noticed. He'd heard the words, but he hadn't processed them. He'd been discussing cars vs. public transportation with Gabriel and really not paying attention to anything but the man next to him. He'd been dimly aware that a group of guys were walking behind them, occasionally being boisterous. There were six of them. It was a big city and he wasn't concerned.

He should have been.

One of them lunged forward and shoved him hard. He sprawled across the ground, registering laughter, a whoop and Gabriel loudly saying, "Hey?" As they always did in fights, things happened so fast after that. Peter wished he had super-speed, because there were only so many things he could do at once. As he got to his feet, his eyes flew to Gabriel. The man had killed for as little provocation as he had now - attacks or even just threats to Peter galvanized him and all Peter could imagine was that someone was about to be murdered for knocking him down.

Right on cue, Gabriel made a gesture and one of the men fell backwards, clutching his chest. It was probably the one who had shoved Peter, but really he had no idea. One of the other men yelled, "He's got a knife!"

Three of the men shoved Gabriel against the wall. They had already swarmed around him, following up on their friend's attack on Peter. They grabbed Gabriel's hands and although they were empty, restraining them foiled his telekinesis effectively enough. Gabriel didn't have Peter's enhanced strength to throw them off immediately. One of the other men seized Peter's shoulder, yanking him back as he yelled, "Gabriel, no!" Another circled on his other side but hadn't yet engaged. The last of the six was the one Gabriel had flung on the ground, who was still trying to figure out what had happened to himself.

There were a few blows thrown, enough to keep Gabriel from concentrating on anything. Peter whirled on the man holding him and said, "Let me go!" He was unhanded immediately. When he turned back, the three on Gabriel staggered back together and even Peter felt the minor shockwave that burst forth. In the moment of uncertainty as the three regained their balance, Peter surged between them and grabbed Gabriel, who was bringing up his hands, unfettered now.

"No, no!" Peter hissed, now trying to do what their attackers had done and get hold of Gabriel's hands again. He grappled with him and to the others, it must have looked like an embrace.

Behind him, one of the guys called, "Yeah, start making out, you faggots! Suck his cock and we'll leave you alone!"

Another one yelled, "Yeah, you can suck me after!"

"Cocksucker!" "Faggot!" "Man-cunt!" "Little girl!"

Gabriel was shaking, but he wasn't attacking. Peter turned and ordered the nearest, "Get out of here." To another he said roughly, "Leave us alone." Those two shuffled off immediately. Another had finished helping up the one Gabriel had hit first, who had blood all over his hand. Shit, Peter thought. On the other hand, the man was getting up, so he couldn't be too bad off. To Peter's eye, it looked like he'd been slashed across the chest - a shallow, but messy and ultimately not very dangerous wound.

"He's bleeding, man," the helper said. "Travis, help me."

Peter would have gone to give assistance, but behind him Gabriel growled, "I should have killed him," and Peter stayed where he was, his body pressed to Gabriel's, literally holding him against the wall and out of the conflict. The other two men were wavering, uncertain of what to do. One of them went to support their hurt friend on the other side. The last started to surge towards Peter and Gabriel, snarling, "You hurt him. You're gonna pay!"

He pulled up short and looked startled, clutching at his neck at about the same moment that Peter told him, "Leave!" Then he turned and scrambled for Gabriel's hands, interfering with his telekinesis enough that he let the man go. The fellow staggered away, holding his throat and yet still managing to insult and curse as he left. Part of Peter noted that meant Gabriel hadn't crushed his windpipe - something easily within his ability. Peter shot a glance at the other three, the wounded man and his two compatriots, but they were moving away too, being faster at it now that their friends had left them. Obviously, they didn't want to be in a situation of what might appear to be fair odds.

Peter bit his lip and spun to face Gabriel again. The other man's chest was heaving and he was shaking harder. "I'll kill them," he muttered.

"No, no. Gabriel, I'm fine. They just pushed me down. It's okay. It's okay. Let them go."

Gabriel put his arms around Peter protectively and glared daggers over his head at the retreating figures. Peter was thankful it was dark, the men had been drunk and the action had been fast. It seemed unlikely that any of them knew what had happened. Let them think Gabriel had had a knife and that was the cause of the one's injury.

"Faggots," Gabriel said, disgust in his tone. Whether he was calling their attackers that or just mockingly repeating what they'd said was unclear.

"Shh," Peter hushed him, but Gabriel was still worked up. So was Peter, to be honest.

"God-damnit, Peter!" He shook him off and Peter let him. Gabriel paced and Peter fell back, putting himself between Gabriel and their assailants, who were still in sight even if they were most of a block away by now.

"They didn't even hurt me, Gabriel. They just pushed me."

"They attacked you, Peter!" Gabriel got in his face, yelling, venting his frustration and upset on the only available target. Peter took a wary step back, holding up his hands. Gabriel recoiled and his face hardened. He looked down the street.

Peter jumped between him and the direction the men had gone. "No!"

"Peter…" Gabriel went back to pacing. He was agitated.

"We're perfectly fine, Gabriel. We can regenerate. No matter what they were going to do to us, we were going to be okay." Unlike Gabriel's victim, Peter thought, who would now have a scar on his chest for the rest of his life, assuming the telekinetic slash hadn't done muscle or tendon damage.

"That doesn't matter! They touched you. They don't get to do that!"

Peter rolled his eyes at the melodrama. It was dark though and Gabriel's gaze was down the sidewalk in the other direction, where a single woman was standing watching them, having seen at least some of the altercation. She crossed the street to avoid them. Peter stepped up behind Gabriel and touched him tentatively. As he'd expected Gabriel jumped and shifted away from him. He looked back at Peter, then hugged him suddenly, murmuring "I love you" over and over against Peter's hair. Peter stroked him and felt his overprotective lover finally start to calm down.

They were in the middle of the block, between streetlights in the darkest part. He led Gabriel over next to a minivan, which blocked sight of them from the woman on the other side of the street. Peter looked up and down the sidewalk and although there were other people, they were distant. He teleported the two of them to the apartment. Gabriel broke from him immediately, reaching out with telekinesis to flip on the lights. He paced, hands clenching and unclenching in unreleased tension, then flopped on the couch and put his hand on his forehead, shaking his head slowly.

Peter unconsciously mimicked his gesture, hand to forehead. He went and got a bottle of water, not because he wanted one, but because he was uneasy and nervous. He had superpowers. He would heal any injury, was incredibly strong and could convince people to do what he wanted with a thought. But being assaulted had still shaken him.

The frustrating thing was how unprovoked it had been. They'd been doing nothing but walking together, holding hands. Obviously had they not been showing their orientation, the six men would have passed them by, seeking out some other unfortunate to harass, or perhaps going home without bothering anyone.

He took a sip of the water, noticing his own hand was trembling. He sank down on the other end of the couch. Gabriel's eyes darted to him quickly and then like second nature he scooted down the length of the furniture to wrap an arm over Peter's shoulders and pull him against himself.

Every now and then Peter forgot how much of a loaded gun Gabriel was. He was thankful the first thing he'd thought of during the attack was stopping Gabriel. One guy had been cut and maybe their last foe had a few bruises, but that was it. No one was dead. Peter remembered Noah's words to him about not accepting a low standard of behavior from Gabriel, but at the moment he ignored them. Gabriel had acted fine. In Peter's opinion, he'd shown remarkable restraint.

Peter reached up and kissed him, which was returned passionately. When they broke, Gabriel rested his forehead against Peter's shoulder. Peter slipped his bottle of water to the floor and held the other man. Gabriel murmured, "Thank you for stopping me. I love you. I'm… I'm not sorry, but thank you for stopping me."

"It's okay," Peter soothed. "They're assholes."

"They're lucky to be alive. I still want to kill them." He leaned back against the couch, slipping out of Peter's arms.

Peter was silent for a moment. With a normal person, he would take that as rhetorical, or just temper talking. Gabriel had killed a lot of people. He wasn't normal and he didn't talk of killing unless he was serious. "We took the high road, Gabriel. It was the right thing to do - just walk away."

"They're going to assault other people, Peter. I would have been doing the world a service to get rid of them."

"No, you wouldn't have. You'd have murdered six people and for what? Getting pushed around and called some names? They probably wouldn't have done anything more if we hadn't fought."

"They might have. And it doesn't matter anyway. You shouldn't have to put up with that."

Peter stared at him, thinking about how Nathan had scrupulously concealed his orientation all his life, indulging it only in controlled, carefully selected circumstances. And Sylar had been straight - or at least Gabriel Grey had been. Neither of them had much experience being persecuted for their preference in partners. Peter had been out of the closet since his early 20s, but even he was sensitive about asserting that he was bi, not gay. Quietly he said, "I agree. No one should have to put up with that. But it's not an offense that warrants death." Changing the subject, he asked, "What was that shockwave?"

"Telekinesis." Gabriel let the argument die.

"I thought you needed your hands for that."

"No. Only if I want to do anything focused or manipulative. I just wanted to get them away."

Peter nodded and leaned over to steal another kiss. "That was a good idea. I was afraid you'd start calling lightning."

Gabriel smiled slowly. "It did run through my mind, yeah." He tilted his head back and sighed. "You still think we'd be safe if the world knew about specials?"

"No," Peter said bluntly, his eyes dodging to the side. "I don't think it's ready yet. But if they did, it might slow folks down from accosting random strangers on dark streets."

Gabriel laughed. "Yeah, maybe. I kind of doubt it, but it's a nice thought. Now come here and let me kiss you some more."

Peter smiled and turned to straddle his lover, sitting in his lap on the couch. They found comfort in one another and later, joy.