writing things....
May. 23rd, 2007 03:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
myurbandream'heroes' fic- what would happen if gabriel wasn't raised by his psycho, overly-expectant mother? this is what i think!
~
dr. chandra suresh died in new york, in a small watch repair shop, on the other side of the planet from his wife and son and the academic community from whence he came. the police said it was a freak accident- an empty glass had flown from a table, struck the wall, and shattered, and one of the pieces had struck the geneteisist in the throat, killing him instantly; another man had been killed as well, and a third wounded.
mohinder found out, from the police, the name of the shop where his father had died- it was a watchmaker's shop, in new york city, a short distance from the apartment where his father had been staying. the sign on the door said 'closed' although he came during the shop's posted hours, and he rapped politely but firmly on the glass. "hello?" he called. there was no answer, but shadows moved in the back of the unlit shop- someone was in. "i'm sorry to disturb you, but i'm looking for-" mohinder found himself at a loss for words, feeling awkward calling into the shop. "my father died here three weeks ago," he said at last, pressing his forehead to the glass door. he leaned there for a long moment, hoping to absorb answers from the cool glass- why did his father die? what had he been doing? but no answers were forthcoming.
there was a tap and a vibration in the glass, and mohinder opened his eyes and stood straight. a man stood behind the door, keys in his hand, and his eyes looked troubled- that was the first thing mohinder noticed, the man's eyes. he stepped back and the man unlocked the door and let him in the shop, giving mohinder opportunity to observe him. he was young, maybe younger than mnohinder but not by much, with pale skin and dark hair, which was cropped short and looked mussed from lack of attention. a deep scar ran from his cheek, near his mouth, all the way back to his ear, which looked to have been lacerated- the marks of stitches were still clear and recent, and the scar was puffy and red. the man's eyes were dark as well, under thick eyebrows, and his face was narrow- the overall look was one of confusion, since his lips were curved downwards into a sad frown. he was dressed in a sweater as befitted the cold temperatures of new york.
"i'm sorry," the man said, gesturing mohinder inside. "i'm not really up for visitors, but you said- i owe it to you if you're dr. suresh's family."
"thank you," mohinder offered, following the pale man into the back of the shop. bits of clocks and watches, cogs and gears, were laid out over several tables, with lamps hanging over them, darkened and looking like spectral guardians over the scattered metal pieces. he accepted a mug of hot tea with surprised and grateful words, warming his hands and letting the steam rise into his face.
"dr. suresh was your father?" the other man asked at last. his voice was smooth and worried.
"yes," mohinder offered, glancing up from his tea for a moment before staring into it once more. there was another awkard pause.
"oh! i'm sorry; i'm gabriel gray-larson. this is my shop- i work here alone."
"dr. mohinder suresh; a pleasure," mohinder offered, still staring morosely into his tea; he appreciated the attempt at cordiality, though. "can you tell me how my father died? were you here?"
"ah, yes, i was," gabriel said. "it- it was rather strange. did you read the police reports?"
"exploding glass, yes, i know. i just-" mohinder sighed, and took a fast gulp of the still-steaming tea. it burned going down, invigorating him. "my father and i are both genetisists. he branched out into a different, secret project years ago- that's why he was in america- and i just wanted to be sure there was no foul play involved. he was well-loved by the academic community until he left, and few people understood or respected the research he was conducting when he died." he took another gulp of tea. "i must admit i was one of them."
"did you know anything about what he was studying?" gabriel asked, cautiously, as though afraid to prod into painful topics.
"not until after his death," mohinder admitted. "i cleaned out his office in india, and read over some of his work- it has to do with the human genome project. later today i'll go to his apartment here and take everything back with me, including his ashes."
"did you understand what he was saying?" gabriel asked. "it involved me; i mean, he had a list, and i was on it, and that's why he was here. it had something to do with my genes."
"i didn't know," mohinder offered softly. "i may look over his notes when i return to india- i'm at loose ends myself, at the moment. if i figure anything out, would you like me to call you?"
"yes, i would," gabriel said, standing. he went to a table by the back window and collected pen and notepad, giving a slip of paper to mohinder. "my apartment phone," he said, pointing, "and the phone in my office here at the shop." he sat again, cradling his own mug, in a mirror image of mohinder across from him. "what your father was telling me was really interesting, mr.- dr. suresh. i'd never thought about being unique or special in any way, but he was so excited about everything- i'm very sad that he died. i think i wish he'd never found my name on his list; then maybe he wouldn't have died."
"thank you," mohinder said, swallowing the last of his tea. "i'm glad to have talked to you." he set the mug on the worktable behind him and stood. gabriel rose as well, and they went to the door. "i'll let you know if i find anything," mohinder assured him, shaking hands.
"thank you. good luck!" gabriel called, as mohinder walked down the street. "i'm sorry," he added, at a whisper, turning back into the shop, watching the young indian man walk away from the corner of his eye. gabriel had a feeling they would meet again. he liked the doctor.
~
with additional drabbles here:
-http://jen-chan13.livejournal.com/62050.html (gabriel's youth, and his time with chandra suresh)
~
dr. chandra suresh died in new york, in a small watch repair shop, on the other side of the planet from his wife and son and the academic community from whence he came. the police said it was a freak accident- an empty glass had flown from a table, struck the wall, and shattered, and one of the pieces had struck the geneteisist in the throat, killing him instantly; another man had been killed as well, and a third wounded.
mohinder found out, from the police, the name of the shop where his father had died- it was a watchmaker's shop, in new york city, a short distance from the apartment where his father had been staying. the sign on the door said 'closed' although he came during the shop's posted hours, and he rapped politely but firmly on the glass. "hello?" he called. there was no answer, but shadows moved in the back of the unlit shop- someone was in. "i'm sorry to disturb you, but i'm looking for-" mohinder found himself at a loss for words, feeling awkward calling into the shop. "my father died here three weeks ago," he said at last, pressing his forehead to the glass door. he leaned there for a long moment, hoping to absorb answers from the cool glass- why did his father die? what had he been doing? but no answers were forthcoming.
there was a tap and a vibration in the glass, and mohinder opened his eyes and stood straight. a man stood behind the door, keys in his hand, and his eyes looked troubled- that was the first thing mohinder noticed, the man's eyes. he stepped back and the man unlocked the door and let him in the shop, giving mohinder opportunity to observe him. he was young, maybe younger than mnohinder but not by much, with pale skin and dark hair, which was cropped short and looked mussed from lack of attention. a deep scar ran from his cheek, near his mouth, all the way back to his ear, which looked to have been lacerated- the marks of stitches were still clear and recent, and the scar was puffy and red. the man's eyes were dark as well, under thick eyebrows, and his face was narrow- the overall look was one of confusion, since his lips were curved downwards into a sad frown. he was dressed in a sweater as befitted the cold temperatures of new york.
"i'm sorry," the man said, gesturing mohinder inside. "i'm not really up for visitors, but you said- i owe it to you if you're dr. suresh's family."
"thank you," mohinder offered, following the pale man into the back of the shop. bits of clocks and watches, cogs and gears, were laid out over several tables, with lamps hanging over them, darkened and looking like spectral guardians over the scattered metal pieces. he accepted a mug of hot tea with surprised and grateful words, warming his hands and letting the steam rise into his face.
"dr. suresh was your father?" the other man asked at last. his voice was smooth and worried.
"yes," mohinder offered, glancing up from his tea for a moment before staring into it once more. there was another awkard pause.
"oh! i'm sorry; i'm gabriel gray-larson. this is my shop- i work here alone."
"dr. mohinder suresh; a pleasure," mohinder offered, still staring morosely into his tea; he appreciated the attempt at cordiality, though. "can you tell me how my father died? were you here?"
"ah, yes, i was," gabriel said. "it- it was rather strange. did you read the police reports?"
"exploding glass, yes, i know. i just-" mohinder sighed, and took a fast gulp of the still-steaming tea. it burned going down, invigorating him. "my father and i are both genetisists. he branched out into a different, secret project years ago- that's why he was in america- and i just wanted to be sure there was no foul play involved. he was well-loved by the academic community until he left, and few people understood or respected the research he was conducting when he died." he took another gulp of tea. "i must admit i was one of them."
"did you know anything about what he was studying?" gabriel asked, cautiously, as though afraid to prod into painful topics.
"not until after his death," mohinder admitted. "i cleaned out his office in india, and read over some of his work- it has to do with the human genome project. later today i'll go to his apartment here and take everything back with me, including his ashes."
"did you understand what he was saying?" gabriel asked. "it involved me; i mean, he had a list, and i was on it, and that's why he was here. it had something to do with my genes."
"i didn't know," mohinder offered softly. "i may look over his notes when i return to india- i'm at loose ends myself, at the moment. if i figure anything out, would you like me to call you?"
"yes, i would," gabriel said, standing. he went to a table by the back window and collected pen and notepad, giving a slip of paper to mohinder. "my apartment phone," he said, pointing, "and the phone in my office here at the shop." he sat again, cradling his own mug, in a mirror image of mohinder across from him. "what your father was telling me was really interesting, mr.- dr. suresh. i'd never thought about being unique or special in any way, but he was so excited about everything- i'm very sad that he died. i think i wish he'd never found my name on his list; then maybe he wouldn't have died."
"thank you," mohinder said, swallowing the last of his tea. "i'm glad to have talked to you." he set the mug on the worktable behind him and stood. gabriel rose as well, and they went to the door. "i'll let you know if i find anything," mohinder assured him, shaking hands.
"thank you. good luck!" gabriel called, as mohinder walked down the street. "i'm sorry," he added, at a whisper, turning back into the shop, watching the young indian man walk away from the corner of his eye. gabriel had a feeling they would meet again. he liked the doctor.
~
with additional drabbles here:
-http://jen-chan13.livejournal.com/62050.html (gabriel's youth, and his time with chandra suresh)
