Warnings: swearing, mentions of child abuse, hinted character death
Pairings: Gregstophe, slight Bebe/Christophe, slight Gregory/Wendy
Just a quick disclaimer that my French might be wrong since I relied on google translate, so sorry about that.
The blonde is staring at him again, and it annoys Christophe to no end. He feels like he should recognise the man, but he can't understand where. He is handsome, he supposes, in some disgustingly angelic way, with his halo of golden hair and his big blue eyes. And he looks far too good in the orange jump suit. The colour seems to suit his pale skin. Christophe makes eye contact, and the man tears his eyes away. Christophe keeps looking at him, until the click of high-heels tells him that his visitor is here.
She is as beautiful as he remembers since last time, which was so long ago. She has blonde hair like the man who has been staring at him, but it is lighter, messier. Her eyes are an emerald green, her lips are kissable. Her body is amazing, with big breasts and wide hips. Just the kind of woman Christophe likes. She gives him a peck on the lips, then sits down across from him, folding her pale ankles.
"It's nice to see you, mon cher." he greets, a sparkle in his eyes.
Bebe laughs. Angelic. How could he of all people have fallen for her? But its just the way his life went.
"And you." she says. "When do you think you will get out?"
"I can apply for parole next week." he replies, tapping his fingers on the table to fight the urge for a cigarette. It had only been minutes.
"And will you get it?" she asks.
"I don't know." he replies, though he knows he probably won't.
He was arrested for attempted murder. If only the stupid cops had realised that it was a gangland criminal he had attacked, someone they should have been arresting, he would have been fine. Or if he wasn't so stupid to leave evidence behind.
They are silent for a few long minutes, and Christophe keeps noticing the man staring at him over the head of his black-haired girl.
"Who is he?" he asks Bebe finally, hoping that she will know.
Her eyes follow his gaze and then her eyes widen in shock.
"You don't remember?" she asks, and he shakes his head. "Is the name Gregory Hawthorne ringing a bell?"
Gregory Hawthorne? Gregory? He knows he should remember, there is some faint memory in the back of his head singing in a British accent, but he can't seem to draw it forward.
"Non" He replies.
"He was your best friend when you were younger." Bebe explains gently. "You lost contact with him when you were about eleven."
It made sense then. He couldn't remember much about his childhood before the age of thirteen. His therapist said he was repressing memories of some tragedy that he couldn't remember. He didn't care too much either, but something about Hawthorne staring at him made him want to remember him at least.
Bebe looks at him with sympathy in her eyes, and she reaches across the table to grasp his hand. She knows everything his therapist has ever said. He trusts her with his life, and it was her that convinced him to go in the first place. He would never accept help alone.
"Forget it." he says quietly, then changes the subject. "What's been going on with you?"
He listens for the rest of the hour as she tells him about how their cat keeps bringing mice into the house, about how boring her work is, about how much she hates Red "the bitch", of how she and Wendy still aren't talking although they live practically next door, about how she misses having him in the house and how she wants him home soon. She mentions that briefly, knowing that it will just upset them both. And then visiting time is over and they share a long kiss and Christophe knows that it will be months before he sees his fiance again unless he can do the impossible and be cleared for release next week.
He is enjoying a cigarette in a lonely corner of the prison courtyard when he sees the man again. He is walking towards him in fact, and dread begins to grow within Christophe. The man must remember him, from the way his eyes never wander for long, and Christophe hates when people know more than him. Gregory soon stands before him, smiling, and he outstretches his hand.
"I'm Gregory Hawthorne." he introduces himself.
Christophe pretends he didn't already know.
"Christophe DeLorn." he says, ignoring the hand before him.
Maybe he did know this man ten years ago, but he couldn't remember him now, and he didn't let strangers touch him. Gregory lets his hand drop, and he frowns.
"You don't remember me, do you?"
"Non." Christophe answers truthfully, not seeing the point in lying.
"We were friends for so long." Gregory mutters, more to himself.
"I don't remember many people." Christophe says, wondering why he feels the need to console this man.
Then he tries to brush past Gregory, but he grabs him by the arm and looks at him with pleading eyes, and Christophe starts to remember.
His eyes were watering from the pain, and his throat was raw from the screaming. He hated dogs. He hated them with a passion since that first time one had attacked him back in France. And now more were attacking, and he was going to die. There were warm arms around him, begging him to keep breathing, begging him to keep his eyes open. Through the viel obscuring his vision, he could see eyes of deep blue. Eyes he could swim in. And he could see a shock of blonde hair. He had been lying there for hours, it seemed. He could fainly remember some red-head holding him tight and singing soothingly too him. Much the same was playing out now, but with some different guy. Why were they all touching him? He didn't want them to be here, he wanted to die in peace.
"And now the light she fades, and darkness settles in..." the British voice sings into his ear, and he knows the song. He had sang it to the other guy. Was this the same one? No, the voices were different. And the colour of hair.
"But you can find strength..."
And the darkness begins to take over him, and he cannot here any more, but in his last fleeting thought he recognises who holds him. Gregory. His best friend. Gregory...
"Gregory." he finds himself saying aloud, crashing back down into reality and away from the waking dream.
"Do you remember?" Gregory asks hopefully.
"A bit." Christophe mutters. "I was attacked... and you held me..."
"Yes." Gregory whispers. "La Resistance."
And that rings a bell too.
The second flash back comes to him at night, when he lies on the hard prison cot and urges himself to fall asleep. He hears Gregory's voice in his head chanting "La Resistance" over and over again, and he knows it means something very important to him. He closes his eyes, and it hits him.
The gentle knocking on the window draws his attention away from his homework, and he turns to see the blonde sitting outside on the tree. He can't remember why Gregory doesn't use the front door any more. He crosses the room and opens the window and Gregory slips inside with the grace of a cat.
"What is it?" Christophe asks, feigning irritation.
Why was he angry at the boy again?
"I've got a mission for you."
"I'm grounded." he says. Why? "I can't play."
"This is a real one." he grins. "We're going to stop this war with Canada!"
"Are we?" he asks sarcastically.
"Yes. I told some guys to come talk to you for help." Gregory says excitedly.
"I'll try to get out." he relents. "Who will be coming?"
"La Resistance."
And then Christophe awakes in a cold sweat.
He takes to hanging around the prison with Gregory. He hasn't even considered doing this with anyone else, but he has a feeling that Gregory is the key to the memories that his mind has hidden from him, and he so desperately wants to know. He has to know himself. No more flashbacks have come as of yet, but Gregory tells him a lot and he finds himself believing him.
It is four days before Christophe's parole, and they are eating dinner. Prison food is disgusting, but it gives them energy and that's all they really need. They sit alone. They always do.
"So, any special girls in your life?" Gregory asks.
He likes to find out about Christophe's life now, rather than focusing solely on his past.
"Oui." he says, pausing to take a bite of his meal. "Her name is Bebe. She is beautiful."
He is a man of little words, and he won't admit to Gregory how much he loves her.
"What about you?" he asks to change the subject.
"Not really." he shrugs. "I just started seeing an old flame again."
"What's her name?"
He doesn't care. It's just polite to ask.
"Wendy." he says, and it is enough to trigger another flashback.
"Come on." he demands. His French accent was thicker then than it is now. "You said we could hang out in the tree house today."
His blonde companion rolls his eyes and folds his arms.
"I'm sorry, but I told Wendy-"
"Your always hanging out with Wendy." Christophe argues, ashamed at the tears that threaten to well in his eyes. "What happened to bros before hoes?"
"You're still more important to me." the blonde reasons, but Christophe refuses to believe it.
"Prove it." he sniffs, feeling jealous for some reason that he cannot place.
"I'm sorry." he says and then he walks away.
Fuck him. And fuck his stupid girl friend, Christophe thinks.
"Wendy Testaburger." Christophe mutters, and Gregory grins that he is remembering more.
"That's right." he grins. "We're getting somewhere again."
Christophe doesn't have the heart to tell him how much of a bitch Wendy Testaburger is.
How Gregory manages to drag him to the church is a mystery to both of them. Christophe can't exactly remember when it started, or why, but he knew that he hated God with a passion, and thought he was the bitch to rule all bitches, but still here he was sitting on a pew with a bible in his hand, listening to some precher going on about how merciful God was and wondering why there was a Hell if that was the case. Gregory is listening intently, and Christophe can't remember why he would have ever been friends with a catholic. Perhaps he wasn't so shallow as a youth. Christophe's eyes begin to wander and he catches sight of two inmates at the back, giggling like a couple of school girls and completely ignoring the sermon. They probably only came to the church to get out of their cells for an hour or two. Christophe watches with mild interest, until one of the men hits the other too hard with a bible, and he crashes into another daydream.
"I don't care what God thinks!" the boy growls out. "He's just a bitch any way!"
"Don't you dare slander God in such ways!" his mother screetches. "He is the Heavenly Father!"
"The only father I've got is back in France, and its all because of you!" Christophe spits with venom in his voice.
His mother ignores that, and keeps ranting.
"How dare you use the Lord's name in vain! How dare you say such things about him!" she continues.
"Fuck God!" Christophe screams back as his mother lifts a bible from the bookshelf and begins to mutter a prayer. "He is a bitch! He is a fag! He is a pussy! He is a débile, bâtard, con, connard, chatte!"
"Be quiet!" His mother demands.
"Fuck you." he seethes, and she smacks him with the bible.
The book is heavy, and leatherbound, and he knows that the force of her hit is going to leave a bruise on the arm he raised to defend himself. He blinks tears from his eyes.
"Get to your bedroom now, Christophe." his mother demands. "You are grounded for a month!"
"That fucking bitch." Christophe whispers aloud.
Gregory looks at him with concern. He looks like he is about to ask a question but he closes his mouth when Christophe shakes his head. He's not sure if he wants to share that kind of memory with his friend. He wonders if it was his mothers fault that he repressed his memories, and it seems likely.
It is the day before his parole, and Christophe is alone. He finishes his breakfast, and then goes out to smoke for his free period, wondering briefly where Gregory is. The man could get in a lot of trouble for skipping out on breakfast. If he had poor relations with the guards, they could even expand his sentence for such things. He is standing in their isolated corner, smoking his own cigarette and Christophe is shocked. He hasn't seen Gregory smoke before. He practically runs towards him, and almost freezes in shock when he sees tears on his face.
"What happened, mon ami?" he asks quietly, pulling him into a loose hug.
He doesn't know why he finds the courage to touch him.
"Wendy is pregnant." he chokes out.
"That's a good thing." Christophe says uncertainly. "It gives you something to look forward to when you get out."
"Yeah, it would have been, if Wendy would raise it for a few years without me."
Christophe cocks his head in confusion.
"She is going to abort it."
And at that word, Christophe is thrown into another flashback.
"You little faggot." his mother seethes.
Why is she calling him that? What has he done wrong?
"How dare you!"
How dare he what? He is frozen to the ground in fear, and he can't find the voice to ask his mother why she was saying these things.
"What did I do to deserve a son like this?" she asks tearfully, looking up towards the ceiling. "I should have aborted him while I had the chance."
And then she turns to him with rage in her eyes.
"Did you hear that? I wanted to abort you! It was your father that stopped me thinking he would love you, and then you came out into the world and he took one look at you and hated you. That's why he left."
No. That's not why he left. It was because his mother was crazy. Right?
"He wouldn't let me go to the doctor and get a real abortion, so I tried to end you with a coat hanger! It's a real shame your father caught me!"
He is sure his mother keeps ranting but he doesn't listen. He turns away and runs out of the door before she can see the tears in his eyes. He runs to their treehouse and is so glad when he sees that Gregory is there. His friend pulls him into a tight hug and strokes his hair and tells him he's glad he's alive. And Christophe thinks, for some reason, that Gregory's thoughts are the only ones that matter. And he feels better.
Christophe considers telling Gregory about the flashback then decides against it. He has enough to worry about with losing his unborn child, without thinking about what Christophe is going through.
If all goes well, this will be his last day in the prison. He's unsure now whether or not he wants to leave. He feels like so many parts of his past are still missing. He still has so many questions which he is sure that Gregory can help answer. Gregory had told him he could come back and visit how often he wanted, but the prison was a good bit away from South Park, and he wouldn't be able to come more than a few times a year. He couldn't bear the thought of being away from Gregory for so long. As Gregory helped him, and as they grew closer, and as Christophe began to forget Bebe's face and envision Gregory's as he slept, he began to convince himself that he loved his companion. Perhaps it was just because he was in jail away from all the girls, or perhaps it was because he detested Bebe more and more for not coming to visit him and wanted to do something he thought would hurt her, but these feelings are real and he wants Gregory so bad. Christophe tends to get what he wants.
"I'll miss you if you get out." Gregory admits as they stand in the courtyard smoking. It seems like its all they do, but there are not many more activities to do in prison.
"I'll miss you too." Christophe says.
"But you have to go." Gregory continues. "You might not get another chance at parole."
"Oui." Christophe agrees. "I might be stuck for the full twelve years."
Gregory looks at him with those bright blue eyes, his lips damp and parted, and Christophe can't fight the urge any more. He leans forward and presses their lips together. Gregory feels him stiffen against him, and he pulls away to watch the brown eyes go blank.
"I will rescue you, fair maiden!" Christophe laughs, jumping from one couch to another across the living room.
Gregory joins in the laughter from his place on top of the window ledge, where his hands were tied with blue ribbon. They can't remember why they started playing this game, and why Gregory was cast as the girl. It was probably over some bet or dare. They didn't care either way, because they were having fun. Christophe jumps from the couch and runs across to the bay window. He knocks the stuffed dragon from its cardboard box tower with his cardboard sword and rushes to "save" his friend. He throws the sword to the side and unties the ribbon. Then he kisses him lightly on the lips, because that's what Prince Charming would do to his princess. Then a shatter of glass brings their attention to Christophe's mother who stands in the door way, staring at them with barely hidden anger in her eyes. She ignores the tea that stains her carpet.
"Gregory, I think its time you went home, mon cher." she says in a feigned sweet voice, and Gregory knows better than to refuse.
That must be why he stopped using the front door after that.
She screams at him, but Christophe can't make out what she's saying past the panic thrumming in his ears. She takes the belt from the shelf, and he can't even think to run.
When he comes back to reality, his face is wet with tears and he is being held tightly in Gregory's arms.
"We were just kids." he whimpers. "I didn't know it was wrong. And she still hit me so hard. I still have scars."
Gregory strokes his hair and whispers soothing words into Christophe's ear as the man breaks and relives every horrible part of his past as it comes flooding back to him.
"That's what I was repressing." he whispers. "That's why I couldn't remember."
It takes a long time for Christophe to calm down, and when he does he looks at Gregory with bloodshot eyes.
"I bet you hate me too." he says. "After I kissed you."
Gregory shakes his head.
"No." he smiles. "I was seconds away from doing the same to you. I... I think I love you, man."
"Me too." Christophe mutters.
"I never stopped thinking about you since the day you left my life." Gregory admits. "I think I've always loved you."
And then they kiss again, and are not interupted this time.
Christophe's parole would be allowed, and he would leave the prison with the promise to wait the three years until Gregory came out, and visit him as often as he could. He apologised to Bebe, told her that he did love her but now someone else had stole his heart. She was upset for a while, but she soon came to terms with it and they became friends again. Gregory left Wendy before he decided he wanted to try a relationship with Christophe, because he couldn't find it in himself to forgive her for what she did. Gregory would continue to help Christophe reach into his mind and put the pieces, good and bad, together to remember his childhood and learn to live free of chains again, and Christophe would continue to love Gregory despite what his mother and her God would say.
Christophe was sure that they'd have a happy life indeed.
So there's my first longish one shot :D. I don't know whether to leave it here or have a follow up for Christophe's happier memories, I think I'll let you readers decide in the reviews if you want. And I know Wendy probably wouldn't act like that but she had to for plot reasons. Please don't hurt me Wendy fans! I hope you enjoyed it!
~SaiyanGirl692~