And…here it is, the chapter you've all been waiting for!! Hope you enjoy, and review!
VVVVVVVVVVVVV
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"Can you really love such an ugly creature as I am?"
Asked the Beast faintly.
"Ah, Beauty...
I was dying because I thought you had forgotten your promise."
VVV
I charged straight at the roiling flames. I barely looked at them. They didn't scare me.
The agents had left the front door of the barn open, but now it was a wall of fire instead. My long strides turned into a run. My arms pumped, my feet flew over the ground. And I dove straight through.
I felt the flames sear me as I passed through them. The skin of my face and hands instantly closed back up. I landed hard inside the barn, on the crackling hay. I rolled, and dragged myself to my feet, ducking low. Smoke clogged the air. I covered my nose and mouth with my hand. Sweltering heat pressed in on me. My eyes began to water. The walls were covered by red, dancing flame, and the spitting, burning tongues crawled along the floor like a brood of snakes. I bent down and shuffled forward, my blurred vision searching for any sign of Sylar.
My foot found him before my eyes did. My toe ran into the bottom of his shoe. Then I saw that they had covered him in straw, and the flames had already reached both his sides, threatening to cover him like a blazing shroud.
Falling to my knees, I dashed the burning straw away from him, the flames biting my hands like adders. I could not hold my breath any longer—I grimaced and inhaled.
My body immediately rejected that air, and I choked. The overpowering heat swept in waves over my body. I pounded out the fires that had started on Sylar's sleeves. Then, I grabbed him, heaved his upper body up off the floor, turned and dragged him straight back, toward the low back door of the barn, where the wooden door still stood, instead of a complete wall of flame. I built up as much speed as I could, and struck the door with my shoulder.
It gave way before me, weakened by the flames. Wood crashed down around me, and the fire slashed my skin open.
The next second we broke out into the cool, clear night air. My skin sealed itself. I sucked in a deep, desperate breath, then coughed and coughed, keeping my grip on Sylar as I cleared my lungs. I felt as if my muscles were tearing as I dragged him a safe distance away from the roaring blaze.
Finally, I could go no further. I thudded to my knees and lowered him onto the grass. My gaze flew over the raw burns on his hands, arms and neck. I forced back my nausea, knowing they would heal in an eye blink. Quickly, I patted out the embers that hung in my hair, on my shirt and pant legs, and those that remained on him.
Then, steadying myself, I slid my hands up, braced one hand against his jaw and gripped the knitting needle with the other. I tugged on it.
"Okay…Okay…" I gritted as blood oozed out of the wound onto my fingers. The long needle came loose with a sucking sound, and I tossed it. It clanged against a tree in the darkness.
Sitting back and breathing hard, I wiped my hands on my pant legs. The hellish blaze behind me lit him up almost like day. I waited, watching for the first sign of breath from him.
He didn't move.
"Relax," I told myself. "It takes a second. Just give him a second."
However, the seconds ticked by. The fire hissed and spat and growled behind me. His chest did not rise or fall. His eyelids did not flutter.
"Sylar," I called, scooting closer and taking hold of his collar. "Sylar. Hey. Hey." I shook his shoulders. "Hey, it's Claire. Can you hear me?"
He made no response. I went still. My hand moved to his throat. I pressed my fingers against his jugular and held my breath.
Nothing.
I stared at his face.
"Sylar?"
His eyes stayed closed.
"Sylar, come on—don't do this," I slid my arm under his shoulders and pulled his upper body onto my lap, shakily supporting his limp head with my right elbow. "Sylar, come on." I rubbed his still chest hard with my left hand. My throat tightened and my vision blurred. "I know you're in there, now come on!" I shouted, tears breaking into my voice. But the wound in his jaw wasn't healing. Neither were his burns. My breathing accelerated as my heart crashed against my ribs.
"Sylar, you have to try," I commanded, laying him flat again and pushing repeatedly on the center of his chest with both hands. I used all my force, over and over. Again, my fumbling fingers found his throat.
My fingertips did not rise and fall with any effort of his heart.
His pulse was still.
I leaned over him, feeling beneath his nose for any sign of breath.
There was none.
"No, no, no. You can't do this," I moaned, as tears fell from my eyes and landed on his pale face, like raindrops hitting a marble statue. A sob ripped through me and my desperate hand fluttered up to stroke his forehead and run my trembling thumb along the bridge of his nose and his soft cheek.
How had this happened? I had known him to revive before after a weapon was removed from his weak point. Why was this taking so long?
My thoughts ground to a halt. Then, they slowly started down a path that made me feel as if I had swallowed glass.
What if that had not been his "weak spot" in the sense of the word that I knew? What if it had instead been his Achilles' heel—the spot that would literally, permanently, kill him?
With the suddenness of lightning, shattering panic seized me, along with a foreign, piercing anguish that flooded my veins. And at last—too late—I cried out his name.
"Gabriel!" I urgently smoothed his hair away from his forehead. "Gabriel, please…Please don't. Don't leave me here alone." I took his face in my hands, searching his features with frenzied desperation. "I forgive you," I gasped, my tears running down, my thumb tracing his strong brow. "I forgive you, and I…I…" I squeezed my eyes shut. Tears scalded my face. I blinked several times, then, as the wind blew through my hair, I leaned in and closed my lips over his and pressed deep.
I tasted my own tears. I remembered the feel of his soft mouth. I felt my heart break.
And then…
His lips moved.
I broke away from him, jerking back, gasping.
His black eyes snapped open. He stared at me—straight through me—as if I had just said out loud what I had been feeling in my heart. And what he understood filled his glittering gaze with awe.
And the wound beneath his jaw closed.
"Gabriel—" I gasped. But before I could finish, he sat up, his healed hands slid around my neck and his mouth collided with mine.
I threw my arms around his shoulders, explosions going off in my mind. He pulled me to him, hard, and our mouths moved in fierce, sudden, panicked joy. We knew nothing of rhythm, completely unfamiliar with each other's taste or pacing—we floundered, but repeatedly, rapidly, found each other's lips until neither of us could breathe.
His mouth broke from mine, and he pulled back. I blinked and cleared my eyes. And my heart pounded once, with a massive, painful thud. His eyes widened.
"I'm sorry," he rasped. I couldn't speak. Gabriel glanced up, past me, at the tumbling, burning barn. Then, he gazed into my eyes, and held me transfixed.
"Gabriel!"
The voice darted over the lawn, ringing out over the roar of the blaze. Gabriel instantly released me from his arms and got to his feet. Concern flashed in his eyes.
"Peter—"
And the next second, Peter appeared, running full-tilt. His footsteps faltered for a moment as he caught full sight of his friend. Then he stepped forward, threw his arms around Gabriel and buried his face in his shoulder.
Gabriel staggered, his face showed nothing but broken, vulnerable shock. And then he wrapped his arms tight around Peter and leaned his head against his, closing his eyes. I heard Peter make a choking sound, and then he pulled back and took Gabriel's face in his hands.
"What the heck were you thinking, huh?" Peter scolded, his eyes watery. He grabbed Gabriel's shoulders hard. "Don't you ever do that again, understand?"
Gabriel grinned, stepped in and hugged Peter again, sincerely.
"I promise."
Gabriel's eyes then found Emma, who wasted no time in closing the distance and wrapping him up in a soft embrace. Peter's gaze landed on me. The next moment, I was in his arms, and I could feel his heart hammering.
"Are you okay?" Peter gritted.
"Yeah," I nodded into his shoulder. He let me go, but I kept my arms around his shoulders. He ducked his head.
"I thought you were going to let them kill him," he managed, his gaze flitting up to mine. Emotion choked my throat, and all I could do was hug him again. I looked over his shoulder at Gabriel, who still held onto Emma. Gabriel met my eyes—and I gave him the first true smile he had ever received from me.
VVV
"Oh, Beast, how you frightened me!" she cried.
"I never knew how much I loved you until just now,
When I feared I was too late to save your life."
TO BE CONTINUED
Yes, I did write "to be continued" here on purpose. There is one more chapter. ;)