Plug Me In: SolidarityPosted by shotaphile on 2006.06.12 at 19:27
Current Mood: busy
Current Music: Like Father, Like Son--Aida
... right, so maybe it wasn't such a good idea.
Series: Feeling Electric
Pairing: ...eventual Gabriel/Madden, but this is part in a series, so it's not there yet. And PLEASE, please don't let the pairing scare you like it scared me. I really do think this is developing into my FE OTP, really I do.
Spoilers: Eh... Gabriel's name, the fact that he's dead... well, these things are only spoilers if you've heard the show, and if you have, I really hope you've heard it all, the way through, otherwise you're missing out on a lot.
Warnings: the musings of a dead boy, really, in this part, not much else. The warnings come later, though, not really, I'm not gonna get your hopes up if they are.
Gabriel was getting rather tired of this Dr. Madden fellow. He didn’t like it when people tried to forget him, and Madden had been trying his damnedest to get Diana, and now Dan, to do just that. Sure, he had a job to do and, seeing his sister smile these days, Gabriel was forced to admit that the psychiatrist was good at his job. But did he really have to disappear before things would get better? He’d finally gotten Dan to speak to him again, he finally had a name. He couldn’t give that up now.
Funny thing about being named. It gave you a sort of realness, of solidarity. He could blow out candles now, and he was more than a little regretful that Diana left when she did, as Dan wasn’t any good at cooking, and he’d never bake Gabriel a birthday cake anyway. But he could blow out a candle just the same, as he’d discovered one night during a particularly violent Seattle rainstorm and subsequent blackout. He’d always played at being “alive” in the sense that Dr. Madden seemed to think so important: blowing out a candle, tasting some of Diana’s homemade ice cream, catching a falling leaf. It’d never worked, and with each failure, he’d found himself increasingly depressed, as though he wasn’t merely playing, but really, truly trying. It never failed to surprise him when he found he still had hope. Ridiculous, really, sixteen years and no progress, and still he held on to some semblance of it. But he could blow out a candle now. And catch a leaf. And, though Diana was no longer around to make ice cream, (another regret, he’d always wondered what chocolate was like to incite such happiness from his generally unhappy sister) he’d managed to get into the Chinese takeout one night and learn that Sweet and Sour just wasn’t the sauce for him, despite the rather ironic name that had first peaked his interest.
Doubtless, this all sounds like a mere pittance in the large scope of things, but Gabriel had never had these things before, had never had anything, really, so each new experience was both wonderful and new, even that god awful sauce that he could still taste when he ran his tongue over his lips, which he continued to do anyway, because aftertaste was something new to him, never mind that he couldn’t stand said aftertaste and nearly gagged each time (an experience in itself.)
Madden was taking all that away from him. Gabriel had tried reasoning with Dan, the same way he’d reasoned with Diana, but they were two different people, and Diana had always clung to him just as tightly as he’d clung to her. Dan, on the other hand, continued to push him away. It was only the strange guilt he felt concerning Gabriel’s untimely death in his arms that had kept him around this long. He hated blaming his dad when he knew there was nothing he could have done, but the guilt was a necessity to survival. He had no doubt that, if Dr. Madden had suggested ECT again, Dan would have immediately taken him up on the offer, and that scared him. Because then he really would disappear. Because Diana wasn’t around to poke and prod at the past until his name arose from the ashes once more. Well, not his name, as such, she had never known his name, had she? Nobody but Dan had ever really known his name. In any case, he was oddly grateful to the psychiatrist for being content with the talking cure thus far. There were so many things he wanted to do before he left. He wanted to live.
The talking cure was working, though, and Gabriel knew that if he wanted to live, he’d have to do it through someone else. Simply put, he’d have to form a new connection with someone who wasn’t so eager to be rid of him. It was tricky business, though. After all, it’d taken him sixteen years just to get Dan to respond, and hadn’t that been a mistake. He couldn’t just latch onto the mailman or some other stranger, his… well, host, really, needed to know him, and unfortunately, that sort of person was in short supply. His sister was more than eager for him to fade into obscurity and anyway, she knew just enough to understand that he was dead, and she was alive. It was survival of the fittest, and she’d never been that nice of a girl to begin with, Thursday afternoon meetings with Dr. Madden aside. And Dan, Diana too, had never spoken of him to anyone but Dr. Madden, either.
It was around this stage of his thinking that Gabriel began to wonder, as his sister had, whether or not crazy was genetic. Because the mere notion of latching onto Madden was insane, to say the least. That man had made a career of banishing “ghosts” just like him. It was like asking a Rottweiler to care for a Persian though, comparing Dr. Madden to a Rottweiler was humorous in its own right. The fact remained, however, that it was impossible. Psychiatrists and apparitions just didn’t mix…
So yeah. This might be a crack fic idea, but I'm running with it seriously, I'm gonna try and make this make sense, never mind Gabriel being dead and all... Oh yeah. Am I the only one seeing Gabriel top?