TITLE: Schism
AUTHOR: foggynite
E-MAIL: foggynite@hotmail.com
SITE: http://www.fortunecity.com/roswell/hooper/125
RATING: R
STATUS: complete
PAIRING: some Rob+Gabriel vibe
NOTES: Inspired by the song "Schism" by Tool, which I have no rights
to whatsoever. "*.*" denote italics.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hazy smoke swirled up into the darkness of the room, twisting and
writhing as it wound around the sharp blades of the ceiling fan. The
particles dispersed slowly, as languid as the room's sole occupant.
Music throbbed quietly in the background, the same song moaning with
fury for hours while Gabriel drunk himself into a stupor.
He had finally done it.
Cigarette dangling from nerveless fingers, he sprawled across the
worn sofa with his neck bonelessly hanging over the edge. He stared
with single intensity out the open window, unseeing, uncaring. His
thoughts hurt right now like a physical pain. The night breeze
lifted the room's oppressing heat for fleeting moments, but
inevitably the sweltering blanket settled back over him.
Maybe he had gone too far.
Music was playing, but there was silence in his head and he couldn't
decide if he liked it or not. He had wished for privacy and peace
and solitude, yet now. . . It was cold.
Shifting restlessly, he ashed his cigarette into the empty whisky
bottle standing guard next to his head. His temples were pounding in
time with his heart and his vision was getting blurry as he examined
his free hand. The scrapes on his knuckles were scabbing over and
one finger was a blue-red, swollen and bruised like a rotten plum.
He couldn't feel it anyway.
The solid thunk of his deadbolt turning over vaguely registered, but
the sudden awareness in his mind let him know Rob and Lewis were
coming in.
"Gabriel?" Golden Boy barked as soon as Lewis had unlocked the door.
Had they knocked? He couldn't recall. Damn rude if they didn't.
"God." A disgusted snort escaped Kessler as he walked around to the
front of the couch, twisting his perfect features into an
unattractive scowl. The fact that Rob could look unattractive made
him feel happier, even as he could feel the anger like a punch in the
gut.
"Yes?"
The mind link was a mess. He couldn't stop the flow of impressions
from Lewis. They swirled past him, plastering against his spiky
defenses, searching out crevasses to leak in through. The thoughts
picked at him, battered him, the dented wall, the smell of
cigarettes, thoughts of a tearful Kait, Rob's thunderous expression
on the hour long drive, Anna calling at eleven p. m. demanding he get
out of bed and come over. Gabriel pushed each away, not wanting to
see anymore. Rob held a tighter rein on his thoughts, though,
erecting his own barriers filled with vengeance and anger.
"What the hell's wrong with you?" Golden Boy was cursing. Gabriel
supposed he must have done something truly terrible to get such a
filthy word past untainted lips.
Oh wait, he had.
"Get out."
His attempt to gracefully swing his legs around was offset by the
rush of blood to his head and the lit cigarette in his hand. After
his vision returned, he realized he had crushed the filter into his
palm. The ember was snuffed, but now an ugly brown spot marred his
lifeline. He stared down at his open hand blankly for a moment, then
shrugged.
"Gabriel!" Rob snapped, and apparently not for the first time from
the look of it. Lewis was hanging in the background, like he always
did whenever Gabriel and Rob squared off. How cute.
"What, Kessler? Wanna get in a few kicks while you're still here?"
Taunting was easy. Taunting was habit he fell into that would either
make Rob either take a swing at him or leave, secure in his
superiority.
"What I want is to know why Kaitlyn showed up at Anna's doorstep in
tears and near hysterics, with some story about how you went into a
drunken rage and attacked her." He could see the veins in Golden
Boy's neck standing out. The white knuckles as he ground his fists
into his thighs. Maybe today would be the day he pushed too far.
"Ask her."
Suddenly he wanted to keep applying pressure until everything around
him broke into a thousand pieces. Four years of love and security
and belonging all gone. Ripped away with the flash of one thought,
one perfect crystal image that shattered his entire perception of
her, of himself, of his happy fucking world. The urge to lash out at
his friends was almost reflexive-- let himself pull away so he could
lick his wounds in peace.
"I think he's still drunk. . ." Lewis offered hesitantly from behind
the couch.
"I noticed."
Gabriel met those condescending eyes full on. They were supposed to
be friends.
With another disgusted snort, Rob stalked over to the stereo and hit
the power button with a vicious jab. He could hear Lewis shift
nervously
"Look, Gabriel, we just want to know what happened. . ." Lewis was
talking to him like he would a scared animal. Well, Gabriel Wolfe
would not be frightened or intimidated or patronized. Not anymore.
"Fuck off." He tossed the crushed cigarette butt in Rob's general
direction, the filter weightless as it left his hand in a surreal
moment where he was there, but never anymore, and he just wanted to
curl in on himself. Staring at the coffee table, clenching his jaw
reflexively, he could feel the anger roiling in his heart. Clouding
over the spicy red of fury, though, was a crushing black despair.
Unsteadily, he pulled himself to his feet using the arm of the couch
and glared at Rob, not quite meeting his eyes. "Last time, Golden
Boy. Get. Out."
He turned to leave, but Rob angrily wrenched his arm behind him,
forcing him to brace his shins against the front of the couch.
Giving a heartfelt curse, Lewis started to move across the room, but
Kessler waved him off sharply.
"No." At the furious tone, Lewis backed away again.
"Get the fuck off--" Pressure on the inside of his elbow made
Gabriel hiss in pain before he could catch himself.
"I'm tired of the bullshit, Gabriel. Now I want the truth, because I
have never seen Kaitlyn cry in all the years we've known each other.
Not once, Gabe." His breath stirred the fine hairs on Gabriel's
temple. "I want to know why the hell you decided to attack her. I
thought you loved her, or maybe Iris wasn't an accident like you told
us? You have a thing for killing your girlfriends?"
At that, Gabriel swung backwards, not caring if he popped a joint or
tore his ligaments. *How dare he?* Their proximity was
overwhelming, though, and the web fluttered against his mind like a
frantic bird seeking release. He needed to get out of here, away
from people and thoughts and memories.
"Why don't you go ask her?" Gabriel was shouting now, still angrily
attempting to punch at his friend but too drunk to truly connect with
accuracy. "If I'm so much of a fucking monster, ask her--"
The pain roared up inside him, all the hurt he had been trying to
forget for hours, and he found himself looking up again through
someone else's eyes. Kaitlyn's eyes as she laughed at a young man
with close cropped brown hair and perfectly pressed business suit at
a table in a fancy restaurant, at the pier as they walked hand in
hand, at a movie, a concert, a well furnished apartment so different
from Gabriel's. Saw through her eyes as the young man stripped and
laid her back gently. As they--
"Enough!" Rob's voice was in his ear and his mind, ragged and
gasping. Lewis was cursing again.
"Shitshitshit- Rob, he just pulled us in with him. Those were
memories, and he pulled us in like we were there-- I couldn't feel
anything else--"
"Just calm down. Everyone." His anger forgotten in the shock of the
moment, Rob fumbled to pull his own mental shields back up. The rush
of thoughts still came, though, and Gabriel collapsed to his knees,
dragging Rob down with him, and now sat shivering as though it were
the iciest winter instead of a hot summer night. Easing his bruising
grip on Gabriel's arms, Rob let his friend rest against his chest.
"Gabriel?" Ever so soft in the silence, gentle, empathizing,
concerned.
After a moment, he pulled away from Rob's loose embrace and struggled
to his feet. The alcohol made his tongue looser than it should have
been.
"Nobody wants to live with a telepath." He tried to get around the
couch, but he stumbled and almost fell again, except Rob was there at
his elbow holding him up. Wrenching his arm free, he turned rapidly,
again saved by Rob's steady hand. He slapped it away.
"What? Suddenly you're not so angry any more? You can think the
worst of me, but not her?" The words were accusing, yet without any
real venom. His tone was more resigned than anything.
"Look, getting mad hasn't gotten us anywhere so far," Rob's voice was
in med student mode, trying to soothe and calm. He studied his face
intently. "Kaitlyn showed up at Anna's nearly ten hours ago and you
were drunk before then. How much have you had to drink?"
"The fuck should I know?" Gabriel spat, then glared again. "Oh, no,
Golden Boy. I'm not some fucking patient for you to fix." He
managed to get as far as the kitchen this time, with Lewis rapidly
moving at the murderous glint in his red-rimmed eyes.
The glass bottles on the fridge door rattled loudly as he swung it
open. The yellow light highlighted the sharp angles of his face as
he rummaged through the contents.
*Kaitlyn said he's been drinking more often than not the past few
weeks. Could you run to the 7-Eleven we passed and get two bottles
of Gatorade?* Rob meant for only Lewis to hear their conversation,
but Gabriel could hear them as clear as though they were shouting in
his ear. Closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against the cool
metal of the freezer door, he tried to will it away. He didn't want
to hear anything, see anyone, think of anything. This was why he
moved away from the city.
*Will he be okay? He's not gonna, like, pass out and drown in his
own vomit or anything, right?*
Gabriel started to straighten indignantly, but caught himself and
forced his body to relax. He wasn't that drunk, really.
*I'll try to help sober him up. At least that flashback or whatever
it was took the fight out of him.*
"Don't count on it, Kessler. And don't you fucking pity me,
either." Gabriel called out casually, without looking up from the
fridge. In his mind he received a clear picture of Rob and Lewis
exchanging uneasy glances.
"I'll go. . ." Lewis was obviously grateful for an excuse to leave.
"Pick up a pack of Marlboro's, too." The insolent tone was
reminiscent of the angry young man delivered to their doorstep by the
California Youth Authority. Lewis moved quickly to the door, the
nervous stream of thoughts fading the farther away he went, like
whispering in the back of Gabriel's mind. A pressure eased, then,
and he was just so tired. He wouldn't be able to sleep, though. Not
with his "friends" wanting to fix things.
In the dim light of the living room, Rob seemed larger than life, a
hulking shadow instead of the burning bright god he had always
envied. It was almost pleasant, to think Golden Boy had been dragged
into his dreary world of twilight and debauchery. From the patient,
concerned look, he was waiting for Gabriel to make the first move
now.
Standing still, listlessly staring into the fridge and basking in the
soothing cool tendrils of air that wrapped around his bare arms and
fingers, Gabriel was content to continue on in silence. A bead of
sweat rolled down his flushed cheek, tickling, and he irritably wiped
it away, unblinking in the harsh yellow light.
A sudden movement from Kessler, and Gabriel started violently,
rattling the fridge door. Rob froze mid-step and held up his hands
in mock surrender. Gabriel just glowered and slammed the door shut
with a sharp bang. Fuck these games.
"I'm going to bed. You better not be here when I wake up."
That said, Gabriel staggered to the hallway, still slightly buzzed
and exhausted, stubbornly trying to walk straight without using the
wall for guidance. He could barely hear the rustle of movement in
the other room, but the creak of sofa springs served notice that Rob
wasn't leaving just yet. Big surprise.
Not bothering to remove his jeans or t-shirt, he collapsed onto the
bed. His eyes were gritty, painfully dry and burning whenever he
blinked, reminding him that boys don't cry. Gabriel Wolfe did not
cry. Rolling onto his back, he stared up at the spackled ceiling and
wished for the oblivion of sleep. His body was numbed, yet bruised
and throbbing all over, heralding the return of sobriety. Life would
be so much easier if ninety percent of the population was constantly
in a state of alcohol induced comas.
So he made her cry. That was laughable.
A faint scent still clung to the sheets, he realized with a jolt. A
musky floral perfume utterly feminine. Lurching to his feet, he
started pulling the offending linen from the bed frame, not caring if
he had to sleep on his bare mattress as long as the reminder went
away. He wondered if the other guy could roll in her scent after she
was gone.
A vicious yank to the corner of the fitted sheet and his swollen
finger sent a fiery spasm of pain straight from the back of his hand
to the base of his neck, blazing up his arm so swiftly his breath
caught in his throat and he dare not move for fear of setting off
another wave of pain. The throbbing was intense and he determined
that, yes, he was sobering up. Unfortunately.
"Gabriel? What happened?" Kessler appeared in the doorway and
flicked on the overhead ceiling fan light.
Cradling his wounded hand to his chest, Gabriel sank to the bed and
gritted his teeth. Yup, that finger was definitely broken and he was
definitely near sober. Damn.
"Let me see it." Kneeling at his side, Rob gently pulled the injured
limb away from his body. Gabriel put up little resistance, just
wanting to crawl into bed and sleep until this day had never happened.
"Just relax your hand. Don't let everything tense up." Smooth
fingers explored his skin with clinical detachment. "How long ago
did this happen?"
Gabriel shrugged, then winced when the shooting pain reared its head
again. Rob slowly worked the tips of his finger over the area in
small circles, and Gabriel felt the familiar lick of golden power,
pure energy, suffusing his skin.
"Since when could you mend breaks?" His tone was gruff, but the
overture did not go unappreciated.
"Since when could you hear our private conversations?" Rob smiled,
his entire face animated and alive, to take the sting out of his
question.
"I guess the web didn't prevent our powers from growing."
"Apparently not."
Small talk to take his mind off the pain, but not awkward. Just. . .
there. He and Rob had had many such conversations in the past that
went along these lines, yet Gabriel had never been in contact with
him at the time. Rob must have forgotten the healing link could work
both ways, because suddenly Gabriel was behind his shields.
A rush of thoughts came to him. Images of the recent past, mostly.
Lewis' nervous chatter in the car, Anna giving him a saddened look of
understanding, the disgust at the state of the apartment, but most of
all, overwhelming disappointment. In his mind, Gabriel was full of
dark shadows and rough patches, but had shone with an innate sense of
honor. The thought of him losing control, trying deliberately to
injure Kait with his power, had shaken Kessler to the very core. But
what caught Gabriel's attention the most was the searing image of
himself resting there. Silky black hair, slate grey eyes, pliant red
lips, surrounded by self assurance and sex appeal, a cynical
confidence in himself no one could shake. He couldn't help
smirking. Unfortunately, when he pushed for more, Rob jerked back
from his half-healed finger and stared at him with a shocked
expression.
After enduring a moment of wide-eyed silence, Gabriel realized he
wasn't going to say anything. Being bone weary and still a little
fuzzy from the whisky, he decided to let it slide. Later he would
interrogate his friend.
"Your mojo not enough to finish me off?" He waved his broken finger
while giving a tired leer.
"Um." Rob swallowed, then reached for his hand again. "Sure. I
can. . . It'll only take a little. . ."
This time, Rob kept his shields firmly in place. Keeping contact to
a minimum, he averted his eyes and swallowed convulsively. Gabriel
was amused. He had never seen the Golden Boy so disconcerted.
"There. All done." Dropping his hand like it was a burning hot
coal, Kessler scooted back and stood quickly. There was a faint
flush to his cheeks.
"I'll let you rest."
And he was gone. Gabriel stared at the doorway for a moment,
wondering if he was just extremely drunk and having some sort of
hallucination, or if he was actually awake. Flexing his fist, there
was only a slight twinge, so he supposed it was real. Had Kessler
really just run from him? What the fuck?
With a weary yawn, Gabriel tugged off the remaining sheets and curled
up in the middle of the bed. He'd deal with everything tomorrow.
************
A loud clang had Gabriel jack-knifing out of bed, heart hammering in
his chest and his vision whiting out in a rush of adrenaline. For a
moment the plain Spartan walls were grey, the late afternoon shadows
on the far wall were bars, and the room seemed so much smaller,
claustrophobic.
Another bang came from the kitchen, followed by the sound of Lewis
cursing.
*Problems?* He couldn't hold back the snide remark, wincing as he
heard one of his frying pans hit the floor.
*Why the hell is everyone else so tall?* Lewis grumbled back.
Intense pain shot through Gabriel's head and made him want to hold
onto the bed until it stopped spinning. An image of the slight Asian
boy perched unsteadily on top of a rickety kitchen chair, reaching
for a pot on the high shelves above the sink, appeared in his mind.
He tried to laugh, but his throat was dry and all that came out was a
rasping hack.
*Why the hell did you stop growing at 5' 4"?*
Lewis ignored him, concentrating on his balancing act.
Sliding to the edge of the bare mattress after several wary minutes,
Gabriel rested his elbows on his knees with a moan. His head felt
like it had been set out in the sun to shrivel up like an old apple,
wonderfully thudding in time with his heart, and the taste in his
mouth was enough to gag him. Maybe Scotch whisky wasn't the best
choice of drink. *"Water of life," my ass. Who the hell came up
with that one?*
A feeling of triumph came across the web from Lewis, and Gabriel
groaned again. Every single one of his neural synapses was on fire
and he wanted to slam his head into the wall until he was unconscious
again.
*Rob left you some vitamins to take with the Gatorade, and I'm making
spaghetti.* The chipper tone made Gabriel snarl, clutching his head
protectively.
*Fuck food. How about a Bloody Mary?*
*You gotta eat.* Lewis was surprisingly stern. *Rob gave me a long
ass lecture about dehydration and loss of vitamins, and some more
crap about no alcohol. Under threat of severe pain, I am to feed you
and make sure you drink plenty of water.*
Gabriel sneered. So Golden Boy sicced Lewis on him and ran. He
couldn't exactly remember what happened before he crashed the night
before, but he had a strange feeling of tension from Lewis and a
vague recollection of Rob healing his hand, which was only a little
sore.
*Fine.* He slowly stood up, arms slightly out to the sides as the
Mack trucks in his head revved their engines. Barely making it to
the bathroom before succumbing to dry heaves, he leaned against the
side of the tub, sweating and shivering miserably.
It was his own fault for bingeing like that, but he didn't really
care. Of course, considering how much he had been drinking the past
two weeks, he should be used to the shitty feeling.
She was gone.
His stomach clenched. Like a spark to dry timber, the thought
triggered the churning despair he had tried unsuccessfully to
forget. Closing his eyes, he laid his cheek against the cold
porcelain. Ever since he had seen into her mind twelve days ago, he
would have sudden random thoughts that hit him like a slap to the
face. He had lost her, she didn't want to be with him anymore, he
was a freak. . .
The bathroom door creaked open, but he didn't bother to move.
"I've got some ibuprofen, too," Lewis whispered, setting the Gatorade
and vitamin B down on the vanity gently. Gabriel roused himself
enough to sit up straight, but Lewis had to help him hold the drink
steady when he almost missed his mouth.
The pyschokinetic was silent, watching as he swallowed as much as he
could without bringing it back up. Gabriel couldn't decide whether
he was grateful to have a friend there, or humiliated because he had
a friend there. Lewis smiled sadly.
"I'm sorry." He offered softly, looking at the sink faucet with great
interest.
"For what?" Gabriel prompted, annoyed at having to speak.
"Just barging in here last night. Rob was so pissed. . ." Lewis
trailed off, not wanting to bring up anything unpleasant.
"Yeah, well, Golden Boy can do no wrong, or at least admit to it.
And I did step outta line with-- Kait." The slight pause before her
name caught in his throat with a familiar ache. He pushed it
away. "I suppose that's why he ran off today?"
"Um, no." Hedging, Lewis pushed a vitamin around on the vanity with
his nail. "He was interning today. He had to get back, but he said
he'd be over later on."
"To kick my ass now that I'm sober, no doubt," Gabriel drawled as he
laid his head back again.
"It's not that, Gabriel." He hesitated, then plunged on. "Rob cares
about you. A lot. You're, like, his best friend, for all that you
two fight. You helped him when he broke up with Anna, and that
hippie chick at the college, and the. . ."
"The dumbass football player," Gabriel prompted when Lewis faltered.
"Yeah, him. So, like, you've been really supportive and shit, and he
feels like hell for last night, but Kait was, like, freaking, and you
were all, like, pissy lately and--"
"And if you say 'like' one more time, I'm going to hurt you." He
interrupted the nervous ramble.
"Um, yeah." Lewis shifted. "I'm gonna go-- Um, finish dinner."
"What aren't you telling me, Lewis?" The casual, but dangerous, tone
made the smaller boy falter on his way out.
"It's nothing, man. None of my business." He quickly escaped.
Gabriel's head was still throbbing, so he didn't bother to pursue his
friend's cagey attitude any further. With a sigh, he pulled himself
to a near-standing position, alternating between wishing the drugs
would kick in and wishing he were dead. He barely got undressed
without falling over. The squeaking of the bathtub faucet set his
teeth on edge, but the warm water was relaxing.
"Some days, it just sucks to be alive," he muttered to himself in the
empty bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, showered and groomed, he felt more human. The
smell of tomato sauce made his stomach protest a little, but he was
beginning to get his appetite back.
Having cleared off the mess of bottles and cigarettes on the kitchen
table, Lewis sat peacefully eating his spaghetti and flipping through
the local newspaper. Gabriel dished out a plate of noodles for
himself and joined him at the table.
"Rob called while you were in the shower," Lewis mentioned in between
bites. "He's on his way up."
Gabriel nodded, trying to ignore the thoughts of Kaitlyn in Lewis'
mind. Rob had gone back to Anna's and confronted Kait. She had
admitted to seeing someone else, but had been afraid to break things
off with Gabriel. She hadn't wanted to hurt him.
But she did.
Suddenly the spaghetti wasn't so palatable anymore. He pushed the
plate away and went to curl up on the couch. His soft cotton pajama
bottoms were comfortable, but it was still unbearably hot despite the
setting sun and ceiling fans. Laying down gingerly, he promised
himself an air conditioner one of these days and drifted off to sleep.
He awoke to a pitch black room and dead silence. Reaching out with
his mind, he found Rob sprawled on his bed, fast asleep, and Lewis
down in the parking lot, getting into Rob's car to go home. The
closing of the front door was probably what woke him, and now Gabriel
wasn't tired anymore.
Fumbling, he found the TV remote and flicked it on, lowering the
volume until it was nearly muted. The digital clock on the VCR read
1:45, so he figured Kessler had gotten back later than expected.
He felt Rob wake up a little after three, while he was staring
blankly at a static-filled screen. The mind link was oddly reserved,
quiet and guarded, as Rob ventured out into the living room to sit at
the other end of the couch.
"I think this episode's a re-run," the healer joked half-heartedly
after the awkward moment stretched out farther and farther.
"Yup."
Silence reigned once more. A sigh, and Rob shifted his foot, while
Gabriel didn't look away from the screen.
"You know, this is pretty neurotic."
Gabriel finally gave him a wry glance. Rob smiled slightly and
shrugged, hair gleaming in the dim electric glow. It was charming,
in a way that set Gabriel's teeth on edge, how he could just tilt his
head and twitch his lips, and all could be forgiven for a moment.
Lewis was right; they were best friends, in that love/hate sort of
way. And at times it was so easy to read each other it scared him.
"Just go ahead and ask me, Kessler."
"Ask what?" Rob was stalling for time, obviously having had some
sort of game plan for this chat. Gabriel loved throwing monkey
wrenches at him.
"Whatever you feel that burning need to know, so quit jerkin' around."
"Well, I-" Breaking off, Rob frowned and rethought his statement. "I
don't want to piss you off."
"That's never stopped you before." Gabriel carelessly tossed the
remote on the coffee table with a startling clatter.
"Yeah, well. . . You were pretty messed up last night." Shifting
uncomfortably, Rob followed Gabriel's lead and concentrated on the
flickering screen.
It took Gabriel a moment to formulate his response, crossing his arms
across his chest and staring off into space.
"I started hearing her from blocks away, at first. Then it was about
a mile when I actually tried. I'd hear her thoughts on accident when
she was close-by, and once, I. . ." Gabriel trailed off, frowning
with glimmering eyes. Rob held his breath and the room was in
silence. "She was pulling out of the parking lot, late for class,
not really paying attention. I guess she was looking for a book, or
something. I had just started to get into my car and I was thinking
about later on that night, because we had planned to go to the
movies. I think maybe it happened because I was concentrating on
her, very focused, and she was distracted, but next thing I knew, I
was driving down the highway with Sarah McLachlan blaring and so
disoriented, I went through a red light."
Pausing, he clenched his teeth. "A car horn snapped me out of it,
and then I was back in my car, in the parking lot, with the keys in
my hand. I tried to reach her through the link, but she blocked me,
then snapped for me to call her later, 'like a normal person.' She
was scared-- hell, I was scared-- and I think that was when she
started pulling away."
"When did all that happen?" Rob finally spoke up, his tone
contemplative but Gabriel picked up on the slight hurt of not being
told before now.
"Five months ago." He kept his voice neutral, unemotional.
"Five months?" Rob was incredulous. "You haven't mentioned a word of
this to any of us for five months?"
"I didn't exactly understand what happened right then. Besides, what
good would it have done?" Trying hard to sound reasonable and not
defensive, Gabriel slouched farther into the worn sofa. The static
snowflakes had a pattern if you stared hard enough.
"We might have helped." Not quite shouting, Kessler was
agitated. "After all this time, you still don't think we'd be
there? You know we will. You're just too stubborn and conceited to
admit it."
"Oh, you're one to talk."
That drew Rob up short. After a pause, he spoke quietly, "This isn't
about me, Gabriel. It's about you and Kait and what happened
yesterday."
Gabriel snorted cynically. "First, there is no 'me and Kait'
anymore. Second, what happened yesterday was that I got drunk, said
some things I shouldn't have, threw a beer bottle and punched the
wall. Then Kait ran to you. End of story."
"No," Rob countered, "not 'End of story.'"
"Oh, excuse me," Gabriel interrupted. "Then I woke up and dry heaved
my guts inside out. Thanks for reminding me."
"What are friends for?"
"Careful, Kessler, that sounded like sarcasm. Wouldn't want to
tarnish your image, eh, Golden Boy?"
Rob indignantly whipped his head around to retaliate, but paused when
he saw Gabriel's teasing smirk. After a moment, Gabriel genuinely
smiled for the first time in days. The tension in the room eased a
fraction, and Rob slouched down until he was mirroring the
uncomfortable-looking position. Kessler seemed to realize that he
wasn't ready to talk about the day before just yet and let the
subject go. Gabriel was relieved.
After a subdued interlude, Rob spoke again.
"Whatever happened to the five of us, Gabe?" At the quizzical look
thrown his way, he expounded. "I mean, we've grown. I know it was
inevitable, but I didn't think we'd grow *apart*. . ."
"It happens," Gabriel offered, brooding. "You get so close to people
and start to rely on them, expecting them to be there, even when they
can't, and you never stop to think if it's what they want, too. Some
people get frightened by it, others just don't have enough to give.
Either way, you get let down. It's unavoidable."
Realizing what his friend was implying, Rob lightly punched him on
the arm. "That doesn't mean you should give up entirely. Even if
someone lets you down, there'll always be someone willing to help you
back up."
The mindlink was shimmering with that same unspoken tension Gabriel
remembered feeling the night before and earlier that day. For once,
he actually looked at Rob, straight in the eyes. There was a world
of feeling in that gaze, so full of promises, and Gabriel was
stunned.
For the past two weeks, he had been going through his days with only
a bare minimum of effort. He had let himself love Kaitlyn with all
his heart, had for once given himself completely to another person,
and had had that trust betrayed. Yet, if he was honest with himself,
part of him still loved her and it sat in his heart like a bleeding
wound. It would take time to heal.
But he didn't have to be alone while he waited.
"Maybe you're right," he finally conceded in a whisper, not wanting
to break the rare harmony between them. Rob had let his hand fall
next to his arm on the couch, warm and solid against his bare skin,
and he found he didn't mind the connection at all.
"I know I am." The room was dimly lit with the glowing white light
of the television, but he didn't need his vision to know there was a
brilliant smile on Rob's face. He would dissect his feelings when he
was alone and able to think clearly.
Breaking the piercing scrutiny, Rob cleared his throat and turned to
the staticy screen with a cheeky grin.
"So, you have any movies worth watching in this hell hole?"
Gabriel glared without any real malice and proceeded to argue the
artistic merits of the Evil Dead trilogy with his conservative best
friend. He let himself enjoy the moment.
The rest of the world could wait until later.
*Finis*
AUTHOR: foggynite
E-MAIL: foggynite@hotmail.com
SITE: http://www.fortunecity.com/roswell/hooper/125
RATING: R
STATUS: complete
PAIRING: some Rob+Gabriel vibe
NOTES: Inspired by the song "Schism" by Tool, which I have no rights
to whatsoever. "*.*" denote italics.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hazy smoke swirled up into the darkness of the room, twisting and
writhing as it wound around the sharp blades of the ceiling fan. The
particles dispersed slowly, as languid as the room's sole occupant.
Music throbbed quietly in the background, the same song moaning with
fury for hours while Gabriel drunk himself into a stupor.
He had finally done it.
Cigarette dangling from nerveless fingers, he sprawled across the
worn sofa with his neck bonelessly hanging over the edge. He stared
with single intensity out the open window, unseeing, uncaring. His
thoughts hurt right now like a physical pain. The night breeze
lifted the room's oppressing heat for fleeting moments, but
inevitably the sweltering blanket settled back over him.
Maybe he had gone too far.
Music was playing, but there was silence in his head and he couldn't
decide if he liked it or not. He had wished for privacy and peace
and solitude, yet now. . . It was cold.
Shifting restlessly, he ashed his cigarette into the empty whisky
bottle standing guard next to his head. His temples were pounding in
time with his heart and his vision was getting blurry as he examined
his free hand. The scrapes on his knuckles were scabbing over and
one finger was a blue-red, swollen and bruised like a rotten plum.
He couldn't feel it anyway.
The solid thunk of his deadbolt turning over vaguely registered, but
the sudden awareness in his mind let him know Rob and Lewis were
coming in.
"Gabriel?" Golden Boy barked as soon as Lewis had unlocked the door.
Had they knocked? He couldn't recall. Damn rude if they didn't.
"God." A disgusted snort escaped Kessler as he walked around to the
front of the couch, twisting his perfect features into an
unattractive scowl. The fact that Rob could look unattractive made
him feel happier, even as he could feel the anger like a punch in the
gut.
"Yes?"
The mind link was a mess. He couldn't stop the flow of impressions
from Lewis. They swirled past him, plastering against his spiky
defenses, searching out crevasses to leak in through. The thoughts
picked at him, battered him, the dented wall, the smell of
cigarettes, thoughts of a tearful Kait, Rob's thunderous expression
on the hour long drive, Anna calling at eleven p. m. demanding he get
out of bed and come over. Gabriel pushed each away, not wanting to
see anymore. Rob held a tighter rein on his thoughts, though,
erecting his own barriers filled with vengeance and anger.
"What the hell's wrong with you?" Golden Boy was cursing. Gabriel
supposed he must have done something truly terrible to get such a
filthy word past untainted lips.
Oh wait, he had.
"Get out."
His attempt to gracefully swing his legs around was offset by the
rush of blood to his head and the lit cigarette in his hand. After
his vision returned, he realized he had crushed the filter into his
palm. The ember was snuffed, but now an ugly brown spot marred his
lifeline. He stared down at his open hand blankly for a moment, then
shrugged.
"Gabriel!" Rob snapped, and apparently not for the first time from
the look of it. Lewis was hanging in the background, like he always
did whenever Gabriel and Rob squared off. How cute.
"What, Kessler? Wanna get in a few kicks while you're still here?"
Taunting was easy. Taunting was habit he fell into that would either
make Rob either take a swing at him or leave, secure in his
superiority.
"What I want is to know why Kaitlyn showed up at Anna's doorstep in
tears and near hysterics, with some story about how you went into a
drunken rage and attacked her." He could see the veins in Golden
Boy's neck standing out. The white knuckles as he ground his fists
into his thighs. Maybe today would be the day he pushed too far.
"Ask her."
Suddenly he wanted to keep applying pressure until everything around
him broke into a thousand pieces. Four years of love and security
and belonging all gone. Ripped away with the flash of one thought,
one perfect crystal image that shattered his entire perception of
her, of himself, of his happy fucking world. The urge to lash out at
his friends was almost reflexive-- let himself pull away so he could
lick his wounds in peace.
"I think he's still drunk. . ." Lewis offered hesitantly from behind
the couch.
"I noticed."
Gabriel met those condescending eyes full on. They were supposed to
be friends.
With another disgusted snort, Rob stalked over to the stereo and hit
the power button with a vicious jab. He could hear Lewis shift
nervously
"Look, Gabriel, we just want to know what happened. . ." Lewis was
talking to him like he would a scared animal. Well, Gabriel Wolfe
would not be frightened or intimidated or patronized. Not anymore.
"Fuck off." He tossed the crushed cigarette butt in Rob's general
direction, the filter weightless as it left his hand in a surreal
moment where he was there, but never anymore, and he just wanted to
curl in on himself. Staring at the coffee table, clenching his jaw
reflexively, he could feel the anger roiling in his heart. Clouding
over the spicy red of fury, though, was a crushing black despair.
Unsteadily, he pulled himself to his feet using the arm of the couch
and glared at Rob, not quite meeting his eyes. "Last time, Golden
Boy. Get. Out."
He turned to leave, but Rob angrily wrenched his arm behind him,
forcing him to brace his shins against the front of the couch.
Giving a heartfelt curse, Lewis started to move across the room, but
Kessler waved him off sharply.
"No." At the furious tone, Lewis backed away again.
"Get the fuck off--" Pressure on the inside of his elbow made
Gabriel hiss in pain before he could catch himself.
"I'm tired of the bullshit, Gabriel. Now I want the truth, because I
have never seen Kaitlyn cry in all the years we've known each other.
Not once, Gabe." His breath stirred the fine hairs on Gabriel's
temple. "I want to know why the hell you decided to attack her. I
thought you loved her, or maybe Iris wasn't an accident like you told
us? You have a thing for killing your girlfriends?"
At that, Gabriel swung backwards, not caring if he popped a joint or
tore his ligaments. *How dare he?* Their proximity was
overwhelming, though, and the web fluttered against his mind like a
frantic bird seeking release. He needed to get out of here, away
from people and thoughts and memories.
"Why don't you go ask her?" Gabriel was shouting now, still angrily
attempting to punch at his friend but too drunk to truly connect with
accuracy. "If I'm so much of a fucking monster, ask her--"
The pain roared up inside him, all the hurt he had been trying to
forget for hours, and he found himself looking up again through
someone else's eyes. Kaitlyn's eyes as she laughed at a young man
with close cropped brown hair and perfectly pressed business suit at
a table in a fancy restaurant, at the pier as they walked hand in
hand, at a movie, a concert, a well furnished apartment so different
from Gabriel's. Saw through her eyes as the young man stripped and
laid her back gently. As they--
"Enough!" Rob's voice was in his ear and his mind, ragged and
gasping. Lewis was cursing again.
"Shitshitshit- Rob, he just pulled us in with him. Those were
memories, and he pulled us in like we were there-- I couldn't feel
anything else--"
"Just calm down. Everyone." His anger forgotten in the shock of the
moment, Rob fumbled to pull his own mental shields back up. The rush
of thoughts still came, though, and Gabriel collapsed to his knees,
dragging Rob down with him, and now sat shivering as though it were
the iciest winter instead of a hot summer night. Easing his bruising
grip on Gabriel's arms, Rob let his friend rest against his chest.
"Gabriel?" Ever so soft in the silence, gentle, empathizing,
concerned.
After a moment, he pulled away from Rob's loose embrace and struggled
to his feet. The alcohol made his tongue looser than it should have
been.
"Nobody wants to live with a telepath." He tried to get around the
couch, but he stumbled and almost fell again, except Rob was there at
his elbow holding him up. Wrenching his arm free, he turned rapidly,
again saved by Rob's steady hand. He slapped it away.
"What? Suddenly you're not so angry any more? You can think the
worst of me, but not her?" The words were accusing, yet without any
real venom. His tone was more resigned than anything.
"Look, getting mad hasn't gotten us anywhere so far," Rob's voice was
in med student mode, trying to soothe and calm. He studied his face
intently. "Kaitlyn showed up at Anna's nearly ten hours ago and you
were drunk before then. How much have you had to drink?"
"The fuck should I know?" Gabriel spat, then glared again. "Oh, no,
Golden Boy. I'm not some fucking patient for you to fix." He
managed to get as far as the kitchen this time, with Lewis rapidly
moving at the murderous glint in his red-rimmed eyes.
The glass bottles on the fridge door rattled loudly as he swung it
open. The yellow light highlighted the sharp angles of his face as
he rummaged through the contents.
*Kaitlyn said he's been drinking more often than not the past few
weeks. Could you run to the 7-Eleven we passed and get two bottles
of Gatorade?* Rob meant for only Lewis to hear their conversation,
but Gabriel could hear them as clear as though they were shouting in
his ear. Closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against the cool
metal of the freezer door, he tried to will it away. He didn't want
to hear anything, see anyone, think of anything. This was why he
moved away from the city.
*Will he be okay? He's not gonna, like, pass out and drown in his
own vomit or anything, right?*
Gabriel started to straighten indignantly, but caught himself and
forced his body to relax. He wasn't that drunk, really.
*I'll try to help sober him up. At least that flashback or whatever
it was took the fight out of him.*
"Don't count on it, Kessler. And don't you fucking pity me,
either." Gabriel called out casually, without looking up from the
fridge. In his mind he received a clear picture of Rob and Lewis
exchanging uneasy glances.
"I'll go. . ." Lewis was obviously grateful for an excuse to leave.
"Pick up a pack of Marlboro's, too." The insolent tone was
reminiscent of the angry young man delivered to their doorstep by the
California Youth Authority. Lewis moved quickly to the door, the
nervous stream of thoughts fading the farther away he went, like
whispering in the back of Gabriel's mind. A pressure eased, then,
and he was just so tired. He wouldn't be able to sleep, though. Not
with his "friends" wanting to fix things.
In the dim light of the living room, Rob seemed larger than life, a
hulking shadow instead of the burning bright god he had always
envied. It was almost pleasant, to think Golden Boy had been dragged
into his dreary world of twilight and debauchery. From the patient,
concerned look, he was waiting for Gabriel to make the first move
now.
Standing still, listlessly staring into the fridge and basking in the
soothing cool tendrils of air that wrapped around his bare arms and
fingers, Gabriel was content to continue on in silence. A bead of
sweat rolled down his flushed cheek, tickling, and he irritably wiped
it away, unblinking in the harsh yellow light.
A sudden movement from Kessler, and Gabriel started violently,
rattling the fridge door. Rob froze mid-step and held up his hands
in mock surrender. Gabriel just glowered and slammed the door shut
with a sharp bang. Fuck these games.
"I'm going to bed. You better not be here when I wake up."
That said, Gabriel staggered to the hallway, still slightly buzzed
and exhausted, stubbornly trying to walk straight without using the
wall for guidance. He could barely hear the rustle of movement in
the other room, but the creak of sofa springs served notice that Rob
wasn't leaving just yet. Big surprise.
Not bothering to remove his jeans or t-shirt, he collapsed onto the
bed. His eyes were gritty, painfully dry and burning whenever he
blinked, reminding him that boys don't cry. Gabriel Wolfe did not
cry. Rolling onto his back, he stared up at the spackled ceiling and
wished for the oblivion of sleep. His body was numbed, yet bruised
and throbbing all over, heralding the return of sobriety. Life would
be so much easier if ninety percent of the population was constantly
in a state of alcohol induced comas.
So he made her cry. That was laughable.
A faint scent still clung to the sheets, he realized with a jolt. A
musky floral perfume utterly feminine. Lurching to his feet, he
started pulling the offending linen from the bed frame, not caring if
he had to sleep on his bare mattress as long as the reminder went
away. He wondered if the other guy could roll in her scent after she
was gone.
A vicious yank to the corner of the fitted sheet and his swollen
finger sent a fiery spasm of pain straight from the back of his hand
to the base of his neck, blazing up his arm so swiftly his breath
caught in his throat and he dare not move for fear of setting off
another wave of pain. The throbbing was intense and he determined
that, yes, he was sobering up. Unfortunately.
"Gabriel? What happened?" Kessler appeared in the doorway and
flicked on the overhead ceiling fan light.
Cradling his wounded hand to his chest, Gabriel sank to the bed and
gritted his teeth. Yup, that finger was definitely broken and he was
definitely near sober. Damn.
"Let me see it." Kneeling at his side, Rob gently pulled the injured
limb away from his body. Gabriel put up little resistance, just
wanting to crawl into bed and sleep until this day had never happened.
"Just relax your hand. Don't let everything tense up." Smooth
fingers explored his skin with clinical detachment. "How long ago
did this happen?"
Gabriel shrugged, then winced when the shooting pain reared its head
again. Rob slowly worked the tips of his finger over the area in
small circles, and Gabriel felt the familiar lick of golden power,
pure energy, suffusing his skin.
"Since when could you mend breaks?" His tone was gruff, but the
overture did not go unappreciated.
"Since when could you hear our private conversations?" Rob smiled,
his entire face animated and alive, to take the sting out of his
question.
"I guess the web didn't prevent our powers from growing."
"Apparently not."
Small talk to take his mind off the pain, but not awkward. Just. . .
there. He and Rob had had many such conversations in the past that
went along these lines, yet Gabriel had never been in contact with
him at the time. Rob must have forgotten the healing link could work
both ways, because suddenly Gabriel was behind his shields.
A rush of thoughts came to him. Images of the recent past, mostly.
Lewis' nervous chatter in the car, Anna giving him a saddened look of
understanding, the disgust at the state of the apartment, but most of
all, overwhelming disappointment. In his mind, Gabriel was full of
dark shadows and rough patches, but had shone with an innate sense of
honor. The thought of him losing control, trying deliberately to
injure Kait with his power, had shaken Kessler to the very core. But
what caught Gabriel's attention the most was the searing image of
himself resting there. Silky black hair, slate grey eyes, pliant red
lips, surrounded by self assurance and sex appeal, a cynical
confidence in himself no one could shake. He couldn't help
smirking. Unfortunately, when he pushed for more, Rob jerked back
from his half-healed finger and stared at him with a shocked
expression.
After enduring a moment of wide-eyed silence, Gabriel realized he
wasn't going to say anything. Being bone weary and still a little
fuzzy from the whisky, he decided to let it slide. Later he would
interrogate his friend.
"Your mojo not enough to finish me off?" He waved his broken finger
while giving a tired leer.
"Um." Rob swallowed, then reached for his hand again. "Sure. I
can. . . It'll only take a little. . ."
This time, Rob kept his shields firmly in place. Keeping contact to
a minimum, he averted his eyes and swallowed convulsively. Gabriel
was amused. He had never seen the Golden Boy so disconcerted.
"There. All done." Dropping his hand like it was a burning hot
coal, Kessler scooted back and stood quickly. There was a faint
flush to his cheeks.
"I'll let you rest."
And he was gone. Gabriel stared at the doorway for a moment,
wondering if he was just extremely drunk and having some sort of
hallucination, or if he was actually awake. Flexing his fist, there
was only a slight twinge, so he supposed it was real. Had Kessler
really just run from him? What the fuck?
With a weary yawn, Gabriel tugged off the remaining sheets and curled
up in the middle of the bed. He'd deal with everything tomorrow.
************
A loud clang had Gabriel jack-knifing out of bed, heart hammering in
his chest and his vision whiting out in a rush of adrenaline. For a
moment the plain Spartan walls were grey, the late afternoon shadows
on the far wall were bars, and the room seemed so much smaller,
claustrophobic.
Another bang came from the kitchen, followed by the sound of Lewis
cursing.
*Problems?* He couldn't hold back the snide remark, wincing as he
heard one of his frying pans hit the floor.
*Why the hell is everyone else so tall?* Lewis grumbled back.
Intense pain shot through Gabriel's head and made him want to hold
onto the bed until it stopped spinning. An image of the slight Asian
boy perched unsteadily on top of a rickety kitchen chair, reaching
for a pot on the high shelves above the sink, appeared in his mind.
He tried to laugh, but his throat was dry and all that came out was a
rasping hack.
*Why the hell did you stop growing at 5' 4"?*
Lewis ignored him, concentrating on his balancing act.
Sliding to the edge of the bare mattress after several wary minutes,
Gabriel rested his elbows on his knees with a moan. His head felt
like it had been set out in the sun to shrivel up like an old apple,
wonderfully thudding in time with his heart, and the taste in his
mouth was enough to gag him. Maybe Scotch whisky wasn't the best
choice of drink. *"Water of life," my ass. Who the hell came up
with that one?*
A feeling of triumph came across the web from Lewis, and Gabriel
groaned again. Every single one of his neural synapses was on fire
and he wanted to slam his head into the wall until he was unconscious
again.
*Rob left you some vitamins to take with the Gatorade, and I'm making
spaghetti.* The chipper tone made Gabriel snarl, clutching his head
protectively.
*Fuck food. How about a Bloody Mary?*
*You gotta eat.* Lewis was surprisingly stern. *Rob gave me a long
ass lecture about dehydration and loss of vitamins, and some more
crap about no alcohol. Under threat of severe pain, I am to feed you
and make sure you drink plenty of water.*
Gabriel sneered. So Golden Boy sicced Lewis on him and ran. He
couldn't exactly remember what happened before he crashed the night
before, but he had a strange feeling of tension from Lewis and a
vague recollection of Rob healing his hand, which was only a little
sore.
*Fine.* He slowly stood up, arms slightly out to the sides as the
Mack trucks in his head revved their engines. Barely making it to
the bathroom before succumbing to dry heaves, he leaned against the
side of the tub, sweating and shivering miserably.
It was his own fault for bingeing like that, but he didn't really
care. Of course, considering how much he had been drinking the past
two weeks, he should be used to the shitty feeling.
She was gone.
His stomach clenched. Like a spark to dry timber, the thought
triggered the churning despair he had tried unsuccessfully to
forget. Closing his eyes, he laid his cheek against the cold
porcelain. Ever since he had seen into her mind twelve days ago, he
would have sudden random thoughts that hit him like a slap to the
face. He had lost her, she didn't want to be with him anymore, he
was a freak. . .
The bathroom door creaked open, but he didn't bother to move.
"I've got some ibuprofen, too," Lewis whispered, setting the Gatorade
and vitamin B down on the vanity gently. Gabriel roused himself
enough to sit up straight, but Lewis had to help him hold the drink
steady when he almost missed his mouth.
The pyschokinetic was silent, watching as he swallowed as much as he
could without bringing it back up. Gabriel couldn't decide whether
he was grateful to have a friend there, or humiliated because he had
a friend there. Lewis smiled sadly.
"I'm sorry." He offered softly, looking at the sink faucet with great
interest.
"For what?" Gabriel prompted, annoyed at having to speak.
"Just barging in here last night. Rob was so pissed. . ." Lewis
trailed off, not wanting to bring up anything unpleasant.
"Yeah, well, Golden Boy can do no wrong, or at least admit to it.
And I did step outta line with-- Kait." The slight pause before her
name caught in his throat with a familiar ache. He pushed it
away. "I suppose that's why he ran off today?"
"Um, no." Hedging, Lewis pushed a vitamin around on the vanity with
his nail. "He was interning today. He had to get back, but he said
he'd be over later on."
"To kick my ass now that I'm sober, no doubt," Gabriel drawled as he
laid his head back again.
"It's not that, Gabriel." He hesitated, then plunged on. "Rob cares
about you. A lot. You're, like, his best friend, for all that you
two fight. You helped him when he broke up with Anna, and that
hippie chick at the college, and the. . ."
"The dumbass football player," Gabriel prompted when Lewis faltered.
"Yeah, him. So, like, you've been really supportive and shit, and he
feels like hell for last night, but Kait was, like, freaking, and you
were all, like, pissy lately and--"
"And if you say 'like' one more time, I'm going to hurt you." He
interrupted the nervous ramble.
"Um, yeah." Lewis shifted. "I'm gonna go-- Um, finish dinner."
"What aren't you telling me, Lewis?" The casual, but dangerous, tone
made the smaller boy falter on his way out.
"It's nothing, man. None of my business." He quickly escaped.
Gabriel's head was still throbbing, so he didn't bother to pursue his
friend's cagey attitude any further. With a sigh, he pulled himself
to a near-standing position, alternating between wishing the drugs
would kick in and wishing he were dead. He barely got undressed
without falling over. The squeaking of the bathtub faucet set his
teeth on edge, but the warm water was relaxing.
"Some days, it just sucks to be alive," he muttered to himself in the
empty bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, showered and groomed, he felt more human. The
smell of tomato sauce made his stomach protest a little, but he was
beginning to get his appetite back.
Having cleared off the mess of bottles and cigarettes on the kitchen
table, Lewis sat peacefully eating his spaghetti and flipping through
the local newspaper. Gabriel dished out a plate of noodles for
himself and joined him at the table.
"Rob called while you were in the shower," Lewis mentioned in between
bites. "He's on his way up."
Gabriel nodded, trying to ignore the thoughts of Kaitlyn in Lewis'
mind. Rob had gone back to Anna's and confronted Kait. She had
admitted to seeing someone else, but had been afraid to break things
off with Gabriel. She hadn't wanted to hurt him.
But she did.
Suddenly the spaghetti wasn't so palatable anymore. He pushed the
plate away and went to curl up on the couch. His soft cotton pajama
bottoms were comfortable, but it was still unbearably hot despite the
setting sun and ceiling fans. Laying down gingerly, he promised
himself an air conditioner one of these days and drifted off to sleep.
He awoke to a pitch black room and dead silence. Reaching out with
his mind, he found Rob sprawled on his bed, fast asleep, and Lewis
down in the parking lot, getting into Rob's car to go home. The
closing of the front door was probably what woke him, and now Gabriel
wasn't tired anymore.
Fumbling, he found the TV remote and flicked it on, lowering the
volume until it was nearly muted. The digital clock on the VCR read
1:45, so he figured Kessler had gotten back later than expected.
He felt Rob wake up a little after three, while he was staring
blankly at a static-filled screen. The mind link was oddly reserved,
quiet and guarded, as Rob ventured out into the living room to sit at
the other end of the couch.
"I think this episode's a re-run," the healer joked half-heartedly
after the awkward moment stretched out farther and farther.
"Yup."
Silence reigned once more. A sigh, and Rob shifted his foot, while
Gabriel didn't look away from the screen.
"You know, this is pretty neurotic."
Gabriel finally gave him a wry glance. Rob smiled slightly and
shrugged, hair gleaming in the dim electric glow. It was charming,
in a way that set Gabriel's teeth on edge, how he could just tilt his
head and twitch his lips, and all could be forgiven for a moment.
Lewis was right; they were best friends, in that love/hate sort of
way. And at times it was so easy to read each other it scared him.
"Just go ahead and ask me, Kessler."
"Ask what?" Rob was stalling for time, obviously having had some
sort of game plan for this chat. Gabriel loved throwing monkey
wrenches at him.
"Whatever you feel that burning need to know, so quit jerkin' around."
"Well, I-" Breaking off, Rob frowned and rethought his statement. "I
don't want to piss you off."
"That's never stopped you before." Gabriel carelessly tossed the
remote on the coffee table with a startling clatter.
"Yeah, well. . . You were pretty messed up last night." Shifting
uncomfortably, Rob followed Gabriel's lead and concentrated on the
flickering screen.
It took Gabriel a moment to formulate his response, crossing his arms
across his chest and staring off into space.
"I started hearing her from blocks away, at first. Then it was about
a mile when I actually tried. I'd hear her thoughts on accident when
she was close-by, and once, I. . ." Gabriel trailed off, frowning
with glimmering eyes. Rob held his breath and the room was in
silence. "She was pulling out of the parking lot, late for class,
not really paying attention. I guess she was looking for a book, or
something. I had just started to get into my car and I was thinking
about later on that night, because we had planned to go to the
movies. I think maybe it happened because I was concentrating on
her, very focused, and she was distracted, but next thing I knew, I
was driving down the highway with Sarah McLachlan blaring and so
disoriented, I went through a red light."
Pausing, he clenched his teeth. "A car horn snapped me out of it,
and then I was back in my car, in the parking lot, with the keys in
my hand. I tried to reach her through the link, but she blocked me,
then snapped for me to call her later, 'like a normal person.' She
was scared-- hell, I was scared-- and I think that was when she
started pulling away."
"When did all that happen?" Rob finally spoke up, his tone
contemplative but Gabriel picked up on the slight hurt of not being
told before now.
"Five months ago." He kept his voice neutral, unemotional.
"Five months?" Rob was incredulous. "You haven't mentioned a word of
this to any of us for five months?"
"I didn't exactly understand what happened right then. Besides, what
good would it have done?" Trying hard to sound reasonable and not
defensive, Gabriel slouched farther into the worn sofa. The static
snowflakes had a pattern if you stared hard enough.
"We might have helped." Not quite shouting, Kessler was
agitated. "After all this time, you still don't think we'd be
there? You know we will. You're just too stubborn and conceited to
admit it."
"Oh, you're one to talk."
That drew Rob up short. After a pause, he spoke quietly, "This isn't
about me, Gabriel. It's about you and Kait and what happened
yesterday."
Gabriel snorted cynically. "First, there is no 'me and Kait'
anymore. Second, what happened yesterday was that I got drunk, said
some things I shouldn't have, threw a beer bottle and punched the
wall. Then Kait ran to you. End of story."
"No," Rob countered, "not 'End of story.'"
"Oh, excuse me," Gabriel interrupted. "Then I woke up and dry heaved
my guts inside out. Thanks for reminding me."
"What are friends for?"
"Careful, Kessler, that sounded like sarcasm. Wouldn't want to
tarnish your image, eh, Golden Boy?"
Rob indignantly whipped his head around to retaliate, but paused when
he saw Gabriel's teasing smirk. After a moment, Gabriel genuinely
smiled for the first time in days. The tension in the room eased a
fraction, and Rob slouched down until he was mirroring the
uncomfortable-looking position. Kessler seemed to realize that he
wasn't ready to talk about the day before just yet and let the
subject go. Gabriel was relieved.
After a subdued interlude, Rob spoke again.
"Whatever happened to the five of us, Gabe?" At the quizzical look
thrown his way, he expounded. "I mean, we've grown. I know it was
inevitable, but I didn't think we'd grow *apart*. . ."
"It happens," Gabriel offered, brooding. "You get so close to people
and start to rely on them, expecting them to be there, even when they
can't, and you never stop to think if it's what they want, too. Some
people get frightened by it, others just don't have enough to give.
Either way, you get let down. It's unavoidable."
Realizing what his friend was implying, Rob lightly punched him on
the arm. "That doesn't mean you should give up entirely. Even if
someone lets you down, there'll always be someone willing to help you
back up."
The mindlink was shimmering with that same unspoken tension Gabriel
remembered feeling the night before and earlier that day. For once,
he actually looked at Rob, straight in the eyes. There was a world
of feeling in that gaze, so full of promises, and Gabriel was
stunned.
For the past two weeks, he had been going through his days with only
a bare minimum of effort. He had let himself love Kaitlyn with all
his heart, had for once given himself completely to another person,
and had had that trust betrayed. Yet, if he was honest with himself,
part of him still loved her and it sat in his heart like a bleeding
wound. It would take time to heal.
But he didn't have to be alone while he waited.
"Maybe you're right," he finally conceded in a whisper, not wanting
to break the rare harmony between them. Rob had let his hand fall
next to his arm on the couch, warm and solid against his bare skin,
and he found he didn't mind the connection at all.
"I know I am." The room was dimly lit with the glowing white light
of the television, but he didn't need his vision to know there was a
brilliant smile on Rob's face. He would dissect his feelings when he
was alone and able to think clearly.
Breaking the piercing scrutiny, Rob cleared his throat and turned to
the staticy screen with a cheeky grin.
"So, you have any movies worth watching in this hell hole?"
Gabriel glared without any real malice and proceeded to argue the
artistic merits of the Evil Dead trilogy with his conservative best
friend. He let himself enjoy the moment.
The rest of the world could wait until later.
*Finis*