darker_london | Gone but not forgotten (Peter, Gabriel)

The smoke curled up from Peter's lips, as his Uncle Gabriel answered the door before Peter even knocked. Peter looked startled for a moment and Gabriel laughed. "Saw you coming." He explained with a smile.

Peter licked his lips and he shook his head before taking another deep, desperate drag. "Heh. Somehow I doubt that, Uncle Gabriel." He said softly, reluctantly stubbing the cigarette out on the walkway below.

"Come in, come in. How's being a father again?"

"Why do you think I'm smoking?" Peter said with a wry little grin as Gabriel let him into his house. "I love it, but there's no relaxing." Not that Peter's life was ever, ever relaxing. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. "Lauren's well, but she cries a lot. She's more nervous than Thomas ever was."

"And you left your Aly alone with her?!"

"Hell no!" Peter said, shaking his head. "Aly's parents are over. And I needed to talk to you about something."

"Are you in trouble again, Peter?" Gabriel asked, leading Peter on back to his study where he went immediately to his scotch. "Take a seat. Drink?"

God yes... "Ah...no thanks. Not a good idea. And I have never been in trouble! Not my own, anyway..." Sure, he'd been in prison twice so far now, but it was only because he wasn't a blabbermouth and not because he'd actually ever done something wrong. He sat himself down in one of Gabriel's leather couches and then his eyes strayed to the photograph of his father, Klaus, hanging there on the wall. Peter bit his lip.

"Quite right, quite right. What is it then? That girl of mine giving you trouble?" He loved Kat, but she was a handful.

"No, of course not. Gabriel...it's uhm. Liz and I have family visiting. From Germany. They were in Father's study, looking through his books because Liz wanted to turn the room into something else." Peter watched his uncle for a reaction there, and he thought he saw a hint of hurt. He continued. "They found a copy of a book with some old photographs in it. Uhm...photographs of you. And...Dad..." Peter paused and Gabriel said nothing. "Please god, tell me I don't have to elaborate." Peter didn't want to talk about the nudey pictures if he didn't have to!

"No. No, that won't be necessary." Gabriel went to lean against his desk and then he consumed his entire glass of scotch before pouring himself another. "And...now these pictures are?"

"In my pocket. For you to do whatever you want with." Peter looked worried. "Gabriel-"

"I don't feel like explaining myself to you, Peter." Gabriel said, looking away.

Peter stood immediately, approaching his uncle. They had never been close really. Gabriel hadn't come to see him and Liz after their parents had died, and now it seemed that it wasn't because he was suffering grief for the loss of his sister at all, but for the loss of his lover. Or perhaps, for the loss of both in such a short amount of time. Both taking their own lives, and leaving him without either one of them to lean on in his time of pain. "Gabriel...I'm not asking you for an explanation." Peter said, resting his hand on his uncle's shoulder.

"You must think I'm a hypocrite." Gabriel continued, as if he didn't hear Peter at all. "Carrying on about my daughter's same sex relationship while I was- You must think I'm terrible."

"No, I don't think that. I don't think anything specific, really." Peter took a deep breath and he tried to look in his uncle's eyes, but Gabriel's gaze remained evasive. "I just didn't think it was fair for you not to know we knew."

"Does my daughter know?"

Peter nodded. "Kat actually...guessed a long time ago and uhm...we didn't believe her." Peter's eyes travelled up to the picture of his father again. "I sort of...I guess I wish I knew the man you got to know. Oh god, not like-"

Gabriel laughed then. "Peter, I know what you meant."

"Thank fuck for that." Peter allowed himself a smile if Gabriel was going to laugh. "He always seemed like such a...hardarse."

"Well he was." Gabriel nodded, glancing at the picture as well. "But there was more to him. He was funny. And kind. And he hated his family, but he felt a duty to them. He couldn't go back to Dresden like they wanted him too, but he still did their business for him from here. He always said he was proud of you."

"Of...me?!" Peter looked shocked. Klaus' journal seemed to indicate that his sentiments for Peter were the very opposite of proud. And Liz had said that Klaus had written those words in anger and he didn't mean them, but they were hard for Peter to ignore. "He was proud of me?"

"Of course, Peter. He loved you very much. He just didn't know how to show it. His family isn't like yours. Affection isn't necessarily encouraged. I think he felt Louise was too soft with you, so he tried his best to be the opposite. And he probably took it too far, but he was just as confused about this father business as we all are. It didn't come naturally to him like it does to you."

Peter liked that. That Gabriel thought being a father came naturally to him, since it was certainly his favourite thing to be. "But uhm...being a...a lover? That came naturally to him?"

Gabriel sighed and he nodded. "Yes. It did."

"Did my mother know?" Peter asked softly, now that Gabriel seemed to be answering questions more readily.

"I think she did. I think she let it go because I was her brother and by the time it was happening, she was distant anyway. And then little Margaret passed away and she was..."

"Hardly there at all?" Peter supplied, because he remembered. His mother had turned into a shadow overnight when his older sister had died. There had been nothing of Louise left. Peter had been eleven years old, and he'd had to suffer through his mother asking him questions about when his dead sister was coming home from school and why o' why was she late again? "So this was...it was why he was never there?"

"I'm sorry he felt he couldn't take care of you by himself. He needed someone to be there for him."

"No...Gabriel. I'm glad you were there for him." Peter was at an age where he could understand now. He had gone off his rails when one of the babies had miscarried. Lydia was almost the age Margaret had been when she died, and the thought of losing Lydia made his heart seize up. And losing Aly on top of that?! It was little wonder. "I'm glad someone was there for him. And Liz was there for me, and I for her. No one was alone." Well. Except his mother, but she had locked herself away, so that was hardly anyone's fault. "I'm sorry you lost him." Peter reached into his coat and he handed Gabriel the pictures, which were wrapped in an envelope.

Gabriel took the little package from Peter with reverence and then he looked up at his nephew with almost desperate searching in his eyes. "Peter. You were a priest. Do you think he's with Louise and my Bianca? Do you think they're safe and together?"

The question broke Peter's heart. Gabriel had lost his lover and his sister and his daughter and he tried so hard to keep it together. To ask Peter to grant him comfort was a request Peter could not ignore. "I know they're safe, Gabriel. I have that faith. And I know, if they wish it, they will find each other. If they know it's important to you, I don't think it's a wish they wouldn't grant."

"But how will they know it's important to me?" Gabriel asked, his voice child-like.

"Tell them." Peter patted Gabriel's shoulder again. "They're listening, Gabriel."

"They can do that? I thought you were only supposed to talk to God?"

"I don't mean pray to them. Just talk. They'll hear you."

Gabriel looked dubious. "And you're not just saying that to me?"

"I don't just say anything." Peter drifted towards the door, ready to leave Gabriel with his memories. And perhaps, to converse with his memories a little. "I only say what I believe. The people who leave us are never really gone. You'll see him again. But there's no need to rush." Peter winked. "I'll come visit again later this week, alright? Or you could come meet your great niece."

Gabriel nodded. "I'd love to, Peter..."

"Good then." Peter turned and he headed for the door, lighting up another cigarette as soon as he stepped outside. He inhaled and then blew the smoke out wistfully. That hadn't been as hellish as he'd anticipated. And he hoped he had helped bring his Uncle a little peace.