fixeswatches | (no subject)

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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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"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?

Gabriel looked down at the wound as Elle treated it. Was it supposed to be still bleeding? Was it okay to leave the bullet it in? He winced as she pressed onto the wound more.

Elle lifted a bloody hand to touch his cheek, her knuckles skimming down along the curve of his jaw and leaving a smear of crimson. He was sweating, and a little pale, his expression a twisted one of pain that worried her.

She wanted to kill Noah, and the Haitian. Both of them. She was going to, she decided, her eyes darkening.

"He won't stop bleeding," she said, and the panic in her voice was real.

"It's a bullet wound," Noah remarked dryly. Her nostrils flared a little.

"You need to help him!" she exclaimed angrily, angry at him, and the situation. Maybe though, just maybe if Noah was distracted enough...

Noah smiled thinly, moved up the glasses on his nose. "Who says we want him alive, Elle?"

"If you wanted me dead, you wouldn't have shot me in the arm," Gabriel pointed out with a gasp. He felt clammy and dizzy from bloodloss. Why hadn't the other man shot to kill? It didn't make any sense to him at all. But then again, none of this made sense to Gabriel.

Noah chuckled a little. "You found yourself a smart boy, Elle."

She seethed, torn between keeping her boiling gaze on Noah and her eyes on Gabriel. His blood was seeping through his shirt now; she felt the warmth and wetness on her palm. Her breath shortened, nearly stopped.

What if the bullet hit an artery? What was she supposed to do? She didn't even care if they didn't get away, not when he seemed to get paler by the second. As long as he was okay.

"What do you want with us, Bennet?" she hissed, setting her jaw and trying to keep the panic from her eyes. "If he bleeds to death you're not following orders."

Edited 2009-12-11 02:42 (UTC)

"Maybe part of my orders was to see just what Mr. Gray can handle," Noah answered in a flippant tone of voice.

"I'll be fine Elle," Gabriel insisted in a weak tone of voice. "You don't need to worry so much." Never mind that he felt dizzy and suddenly very, very tired. He was still breathing steadily. That couldn't be a good sign at all.

Elle's attention turned completely to Gabriel at his words, and she wished she could believe him. She didn't know anything about superficial wounds, or fatal ones, and she didn't like the unfocused look in his eyes at all. Even if she was over-exaggerating, she couldn't help it. She could hardly think past the racing of her heart. She couldn't lose him. She'd almost lost him so many times.

"Look at me," she whispered softly, caressing his cheek with the back of her hand, nudging him to her. "We should lift your arm, so maybe the bleeding stops."

Gabriel nodding his head weakly in response to her words. He tried his best to focus on her, on her words so he didn't black out or anything. "Elevating it would be a good idea." He lifted his arm up, wincing in pain as he did so. He looked around for something he could rest it on and keep it elevated. They really needed to find a way to stop the blood.

"It's okay, here," Elle breathed, getting up. Noah stared at her steadily, raising his gun an inch; she paused only momentarily to challenge him with her eyes. A tense second passed, and then she nudged Gabriel over to the window seat, letting him rest his arm over her shoulders.

"Be careful," Noah drawled. "You don't want to make it worse by moving too much."

Edited 2009-12-11 20:24 (UTC)

"Like you care if it gets worse or not," Gabriel snapped in annoyance, leaning his arm carefully against Elle. He hated getting his blood on her like this, but it wasn't like they had options at this point

"Ignore him," she said in frustration, none of it directed towards Gabriel.

Stains were the last concern on Elle's mind. She didn't mind that his sweater's blue hem was already red, or that she felt some smear on her shoulder. She was merely thankful she could apply pressure on his wound much easier like this; she lifted her hand to do so, bracing for every turn and bump, trying to stay as still as possible for him.

After a few silent, tense moments, Noah chuckled quietly. "Relax. He'll be fine, Elle. We're going to pull over and Rene will patch him up."

Elle turned her head enough to glare at him, her lips a thin, murderous line. Was this some kind of game to him?

The answer was obvious--yes. And not the kind Elle liked to play.

"I didn't know his life meant so much to you," Noah remarked casually, almost conversationally, his voice lilting in a way she didn't like.

"Yours doesn't," she growled.

The Haitian pulled the car over to the side of the road a few minutes later and parked the car. He opened the back of the van and got inside, making his way over to Gabriel to start silently working on the wound. Gabriel's eyes teared up as he cried out in pain while the Haitian began to extract the bullet from his arm, cutting it out.

"He's not very good at handling pain, is he?" Noah asked in an amused tone, keeping a good eye on both Gabriel and Elle. "Then again, there are a lot of things I'm sure Mr. Gray wasn't used to before he met you Elle, isn't that right?"

Gabriel tried to ignore the pain as much as he could, instead chosing to focus on the other man's words. "That may be true, but everything she's introduced me to has made my life better." Except for when she made him kill his mother. But he pushed that down. They couldn't give into those negative emotions right now. Now, more than ever, they had to work together.

"Interesting," Noah stated.

"Shut up, Noah. Just shut up," she hissed, holding onto Gabriel and keeping her eyes on him. Usually she'd be telling him to grow a set or something, but not now. She was too worried for him--he was so pale--and too relieved and angry as Rene patched him up and caused him more pain.

The last thing she wanted to do was play Noah's little game, whatever it was.

"Even killing your own mother?" Noah ventured.

Elle reached for Gabriel's hand, blanching at the question and thankfully not facing Bennet. She twined their fingers and squeezed them tight; they'd already been in fists from the pain. They did have to stick together, especially now. No matter what Bennet said.