Word count: 454
Rating: PG suggested slashyness
Prompt:Morpheus: If real is what you can feel, smell, taste and see, then 'real' is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain for scifi_musesThe Red Pill
Can’t sleep, and it’s not because clowns will eat me. I almost laugh at my own joke, but I don’t want to wake Gabe. He’s sleeping next to me, rolled onto his stomach, one arm wrapped around the pillow. The bed’s much smaller than we’re used to, but it’s a step or twelve up from the cot at the shop. After a week of hiding there, I finally convinced him that we could move to a hotel and room hop until we found them.
I trace a finger over his shoulder, then kiss along his neck, doing my best not to wake him up. But I need the contact. I’m afraid that I’m going to fall asleep, and he’ll be gone. Not because of the Other either. Because I’m afraid time will repair itself.
When Angela was slaughtered, it thought that would be the end of the chaos she’d caused. I was terrified that Gabriel and Candice would both be taken from me as time righted itself. They’d be yanked back to their own realities, and I’d be alone in what was left of mine.
But when that didn’t happen, I relaxed. Well as much as I could while preparing for my darker counterpart to come after me. When he destroyed the Company, killing Nakamura, I was certain that would be the end of it all. He was the master of time and space after all, and if time was going to reset you’d think his death would make that happen.
It didn’t. We’re still here. The three of us, our broken, fucked up little family is still here, and so are all the others who have been trapped here. More are arriving every day. They aren’t all specials or people that I know. Regular people are overlapping too, and no one seems to notice or care.
Angela thought she was the nexus, the reason for the swirling vortex, but she was wrong. It didn’t matter that she died. It didn’t matter that Hiro died. I was the subject of their experiment. I was the reason time was shattered. I’m the reason it stays broken.
The watchmaker’s son responsible for layer upon layer of time mingling and crashing into itself for eternity. As long as I’m alive people will be drawn here, ripped from their own realities. If I was a better man, I’d find a way to fix it. If I was Peter Petrelli, I’d sacrifice myself to set things right.
But I’m not the hero. I never will be.
I curl my arms around Gabriel, breathing in his scent, and kiss the back of his neck one more time. I won’t let him go. We will be together until time itself ends.