fixeswatches | (no subject)

(no subject)

It was pretty late at night by the time they finally reached the Canadian border. As he drove closer to the border he couldn't help but feel a little nervous. They'd only ask a few questions, right? It wasn't likely that they would have pictures of them or anything, any way of knowing that they were trying to run from the law, right?

Right.

He was worrying over nothing, he was pretty sure of it. So far, everything had been going well. Sure, it had taken them a little longer than expected to get here, mostly because they kept stopping to fool around and the like, but they had managed to get here, new car and all. Once they got through they could find a place to stay for the night and figure out the rest in the morning, right?

Right.

Still, one of his hands left the wheel and searched for her hand, fingers intertwining with one another. Being able to hold her hand was a comfort, at the very least.

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Elle looked back up at him wordlessly, determinedly, and pressed her lips together, defiantly and unabashedly unfurling her towel and throwing it to the floor. It was comforting, at least, that he still looked to her, that he wasn't so angry as to shun her despite their argument. She let out of his wrist and snatched up her jeans, glaring with all the rage in her small form at Noah and his stupid gun, unconcerned with her nakedness. "I hope it's a nice show for you," she spat, tugging them up and zipping them. At least the Haitian had the decency to avert his eyes, but Noah of course, kept his gun trained.

She hoped he didn't really think she was going peacefully.

A mixture of anger and jealousy prickled through Gabriel's skin as he watched the other man not even flinch as Elle dropped her towel. Even if he could tell that Noah's gaze was as far from sexual as possible, it still bothered Gabriel. He might have been angry with Elle, but that didn't mean he still didn't want her to himself. He grabbed one of the too big for him shirts, pulling it on and buttoning it up.

They had to figure out something. They couldn't just let these men take them.

Elle reached for Gabriel's sweater, still crumpled and dirty on the floor, and pulled it on. Even if she had worn it yesterday, she wasn't leaving here without it. And she was not under any circumstances letting them take Gabriel away from her, either. Her mind reeled as she pulled on her sneakers, wracking her mind. Was there anything in the room? Outside? They'd been so tired stumbling in here; she couldn't remember.

Gabriel had no better recollection of what had been on the path from the car to the room. They had been so exhausted the night before, everything else kind of just blanked out.

He slipped his socks and shoes on and took a step closer to Elle now. There had to be something to do. He looked around the are, searching for something, anything he might be able to use as a blunt object.

"Good," Noah said firmly, cutting into her thoughts. She knew the procedure. Knew that removing them from the room and getting them in their vehicle was their number one priority right now. "Now both of you stand up, keep your hands where I can see them, and follow the Haitian out the door."

Elle clenched her jaw tight, and lifted her hands, wiggling her fingers at Noah with a sardonic smile. If only she could do more than that. She walked towards the door, towards the Haitian, eyeing their bag. It was heavy, she supposed. All that gold...

But did she want to risk Noah shooting Gabriel, who was right behind her, in harm's way?

No.

Once Elle was out of the way, Gabriel decided to take a gamble. He didn't know if it would work, but it would be better than nothing, right? He couldn't just stand there and do nothing.

He picked up a lamp from the dresser, yanking it out of the socket. Before he could even get the chance to hesitate he challenged all his rage (his rage at Elle, his rage at this situation, his rage at the men trying to take them away) into a swing towards Noah's head.

However, Noah was much more skilled than Gabriel and shot Gabriel in the arm before he could even finish the swing. Gabriel cried out in pain, dropping the lamp and watching it shatter onto the ground as he covered his wounded arm, hissing in pain.

Okay, so maybe that hadn't been the smartest of ideas.

Elle spun around at the sounds, her heart stopping in her chest as the shot rang out and Gabriel instantly bent over in pain. "No!" she yelled. Frantically, she moved his bloody hand from the gushing wound with shaking hands--it looked like it had just got his arm, she knew it just got his arm, but she had to be sure--and she nearly sobbed in relief when she realized she was right. She covered the torn flesh with her palm, and looked at him in horror. Why would he try something so stupid?

"Try something like that again, and I aim somewhere more painful," Noah said simply.

Elle's eyes snapped to his, her teeth clenched. "I'll kill you with my bare hands," she hissed.

He tried something so stupid because it beat not trying anything at all. He didn't just want to stand around like a coward. Even if it had failed miserably, at least he had tried.

He gave Elle an apologetic shrug as she covered the wound, causing him to hiss in pain. It stung like a bitch. Worse than anything he had felt before, he was pretty sure.

She knew why he had done, she did. Who was she kidding? She might have took the chance too. If Gabriel wasn't involved, she would have without hesitation. But Elle knew by now that Gabriel was different. She pushed down on the wound despite his pain--and she knew it was significant, trying to slow the bleeding. "It's okay," she murmured.

She didn't see Noah signal to the Haitian, and she flinched in surprise when the other man offered her a littered t-shirt, but took it with a glare to tie around Gabriel's arm. Obviously, she realized, the Company wanted them in one piece.

She wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

He bit his lip sharply, trying to bite back tears of pain as she pressed on the wound. Definitely not his brightest of moments, he realized that now, but it had been better than just standing there, helplessly.

He muttered curse words underneath her breath as she tied the shirt around his arm. He had no idea why the other man was helping him. It didn't make sense.

"Don't be a baby," she muttered, and because she could and she needed to and she didn't know what would happen, she wrapped an arm around his neck, on his good side, and hugged him tight before Noah could tell her to step away. "I love you," she whispered into his ear breathlessly, her lips brushing his warm skin, "I'm yours no matter what." He had to believe that. That even if she'd done so many horrible things, she loved him.

"I got shot in the arm, I'm not being a baby," He snapped back in agitation. But his annoyance was soon forgotten when her arms were around him and she was hugging him. His uninjured arm returned the embrace. "I know." He brushed his lips against her jaw, briefly. "I love you too."

And he did, no matter, despite all his rage and confused, unsorted feelings he loved her. More than anything.

"That's enough," Noah said firmly, and Elle clenched her eyes closed, as if she could memorize how his kiss felt, save his words--he did love her, and with it came that blind belief that everything would be fine because of it. No matter how naive that might be.

Gabriel pulled away a little, but he refused to let go of Elle. Not now. She felt more vital than ever. If he had her, things were going to be okay. Somehow, he had to believe that, especially now.

She took comfort in the hard, almost painful grip he had on her waist, but she was sure how hard she was clinging to his shoulder hurt, too. Noah gave her an assessing look, as if debating telling them to let go of each other. She wanted to spit in his face.

"Keep moving," he said instead.

Gabriel didn't want to just keep moving. He didn't want to give in, give up so easily. What would happen to them if they were taken in. Clearly, by the way Noah had shot his arm, they didn't want them killed, but what did they want from? He didn't really want to find out. He shifted his gaze so that his eyes met Elle's wondering if she had any ideas.

She didn't, and her mind was spinning, and she knew the longer they disobeyed the more suspicious and wary and violent Noah would get. "Let's go, Gabriel," she said in frustration, giving him a pointed look.

Edited 2009-12-10 15:37 (UTC)

"Fine," He murmured in an exasperated tone as he headed toward the door now, his uninjured arm tight around Elle's waist. His other arm still throbbed in pain from the wound, and the shirt was becoming soaked in blood, but there was nothing they could do about that now.

She clung to him, her arm wrapped around his shoulder as they exited the room. Sure enough, there was the van in the parking lot--but no other agents that she could see. Elle knew, however, that didn't mean they weren't around. Her eyes darted around the entryway, the street in front of them, and a growing sense of panic grew in her chest.

Maybe she should have taken a chance.

Gabriel followed her gaze. Had they fallen for a bluff? Was it really only the two men who had come after them. Maybe they should have tried to make a run for it. But as the Haitian guided them into the van, Noah following from behind with his gun, it seemed like it was too late now.

Maybe it wasn't, Elle thought desperately climbing in and helping Gabriel, leaving room for him the sit. It was a long drive back.

Unsurprisingly, Noah followed them, too, as the Haitian took the driver's seat. She leaned over as Noah sat, his posture casual and a smug smile on his face as he shut the door and kept his gun on his knee, pointedly. Elle fussed over Gabriel's improvised bandage, rolling his already soaked sleeve up to apply more pressure.

"See, that wasn't so hard," Noah commented. The Haitian started the car up.

"What do you want with us, Noah?" Elle spat.

"You didn't really think you could just kill one of the founding members of the Company without repercussions, did you, Elle?" Noah asked, his smug grin only spreading.

Gabriel tried to listen the best he could while Elle fixed his bandage. Just how important had her father been? Even when he had found out the truth about Bob's occupation, Elle hadn't really told him much about the Company.

She had certainly hoped so. Angrily, a bit harshly, she tightened the pressure on Gabriel's wound. "He was my father," she growled out, "I had a right."

Gabriel cursed under his breath as Elle tightened the pressure on his wound, causing it to sting in pain.

"No, you didn't," came Noah's smooth reply. "If you did, Rene and I wouldn't be here."

"Shut up," she hissed, the disgust palpable in her tone. "You're here because someone sent you, so don't make it about justice. You didn't even like my father." Just who was in charge now, anyway? Elle had never been on the receiving end of a mission--had never been on a mission, period--and everything she'd ever been told was falling apart. This wasn't fair. They didn't deserve this. They weren't like the leering, nasty prisoners in Level Five. They were just kids.

She felt a little dizzy, pressing into Gabriel's wound, ignoring his curses. The blood wouldn't stop, even though it was slowing. Was that normal?