Eighteen

His steady hands delicately placed the last cog into place. The watch whirred to life and a look of delight brightened his features. There was nothing more satisfying than in fixing things. Of course, it wasn't so long ago that he though the whole thing was insignificant and meaningless. He wanted more than anything else to escape his life as Gabriel Gray and take on a new identity.

Who knew that he would actually want to be Gabriel Gray again? That he would find the peace and delight in fixing things. And more than that, who knew he would find a love that would stay? It was this that held him together. It gave him a reason to fight against the hunger; some days he barely felt it at all. He was even steadily learning to control the urge around all the Roaming Clinic patients.

Gabriel couldn't manage any of this without Peter. Falling in love with the empath was the easy part. He honestly never expected the other to love him back. Yet that's exactly what Peter did, and there were days when Gabriel was still stunned by it. He treasured every single look, ever smile, every touch of his lover. Even now that Peter had his empathy back Gabriel coveted their time together.

Finding Peter in the Clinic with bloody clothes was worrying, but what concerned him more was the scar that was back on his lover's face. Peter could heal now; why was the scar back? Peter told him the story and he understood: Claire willingly killing Peter changed something inside the empath, something that could never be healed. Gabriel hated that he couldn't save Peter from this. He brushed his lips tenderly over the scar, feeling Peter shudder under the attention. Gabriel smiled against the empath's skin; he could learn to love this new feature.

Rebel contacted them earlier that day informing them of a government raid. Peter and Gabriel were hoping this would never happen, yet neither were surprised when it did. From what Rebel could gather, the raid was on a private home. Unfortunately they caught wind of his hacking and erased all the files before he could gather more information. Which was what brought Gabriel and Peter there.

The front door looked undisturbed. Peter tried the door and found it unlocked. After shooting Gabriel a wary look, he moved on inside. It looked undisturbed here but in that uncomfortable way they both knew well. Gabriel started running his fingers along surfaces to pick up memories. The government could cover their tracks only so much.

He found the first memory on a wall and paused as it rushed through him. He felt Peter's hand on his shoulder steadying him in the present. "They came in armed," Gabriel reported. "It was a young couple… They were so afraid."

Together Peter and Gabriel moved farther into the house. It was the wife who had the ability. The government screened her blood and marked her as a possible danger. When they tried to take her away she proved them right by panicking and causing a shockwave that threw them across the room. Her husband yelled for her to run. She did; the raiders grabbed her husband and tried to restrain him. He fought back and they gunned him down.

Living through these memories was always intense for Gabriel, because along with them came the emotions of the people involved. He could feel the young wife's fear and panic, the husband's determination to protect her, the cold professionalism of the raiders. If he didn't have Peter's presence to anchor him Gabriel would be consumed by it all. Then he felt another emotion, something more basic and innocent.

"The baby," he murmured. His head snapped up. "There's a baby. I don't think the raiders found it." That was all Peter needed to hear before he started searching the house in earnest. Not finding the baby anywhere inside, they searched the backyard. They found flecks of blood in the grass. Just when they were beginning to think the worst, Peter found the squirming bundle hidden in the far corner of the yard.

Gabriel watched as Peter checked to make sure the baby was unharmed. It was a boy, hastily wrapped in a blanket by the panicked mother. Gabriel brushed his fingers over the cloth and got a last look at the woman as she hid her son.

"Poor little guy," Peter said, performing a gentle bounce and rocking motion to soothe the restless baby. "He's all alone in the world because someone thought his mother might be dangerous. Any ability could be dangerous! How can they possibly judge something like that?" His expression turned dark, the scar even more prominent on his face.

"What do we do about the baby?" Gabriel wondered.

"Someone has to protect him," Peter answered. "He might have inherited an ability from his mother." Gabriel glanced over Peter's shoulder to observe the child. He couldn't sense an ability now, but that didn't mean one wasn't there just waiting to emerge.

"We should do it," he decided. He wasn't sure why he suggested it, but once it came out the words felt right. "Who better to protect him than the two most powerful Activates in the world?"

Peter lifted his eyes to Gabriel's. There was something in his expression, as if something was clicking into place. "Okay," Peter agreed. "What do you want to name him?"

Gabriel didn't expect Peter to leave that part up to him. He held out his hands to take the infant from the other man. Gabriel was already feeling a helpless uncertainty as the child squirmed in his arms. What if he did something wrong? Could he really protect this boy? Would he be a good father? His eyes flickered to Peter, who gave him an encouraging nod.

If Peter believed in him, who was he to argue? And just like that, the name came to him.

"Call him Noah."

~end