And if I Wear Your Skin, Am I You or Me?

by squishier_than_thou

Summary:

gabriel gets hit by a car and now has amnesia

Chapter 1: In Every Universe, I Fall for You

Summary:

gabriel wakes up at the hospital, and does not recognise the man by his side

Notes:

i can write shorter chapters. as a treat

Screeching tires, flashing lights. A sickening thud and bones crumbling, joints bending at ungodly angles and white chalk outlines on the wet pavement.

Breaths rattled in his chest, painfully shallow. Through blurry eyes, he only saw dazzling flecks of light, waltzing. He could hear muffled speaking, sounds of traffic, and the roar of sirens.

He shook from the pain, and the agony only multiplied when he was lifted onto the stretcher, his limbs returned to their original positions. The pain meant he was alive, but at what cost?

There was a hand on his shoulder, sending a thousand volts of electricity straight through him. He would've preferred death to this.

“...‘Tis alright, dove. Just breathe.”

A voice carefully pulled him out from the grips of a nightmare, gentle and assured. It weaved him a blanket to cushion his fall. Though touch still hurt, he knew it wasn't meant to, and that it would pass.

He blinked tears away as his dozen eyes adjusted to the light. The ceiling was perfectly white, and so were the walls, with nice yellow curtains framing a small window. There was also a poster on the wall, showing a guide on how to call for emergency services.

This place was eerily like a hospital room, was it not? The white surfaces, the bright lights, the medical equipment. The bed he was on that looked very much like a hospital bed. The… Why was there a tube going into his arm? Why was he at a hospital?

“Good, just like that.”

A hand moved to hold his, and he instinctively squeezed it. He didn't yet dare to look and see who it was. What if he could see that the person had been crying? He'll have caused someone emotional distress by getting into this state, and that was a punishable offense.

“Thou hast been extraordinarily strong these past days, my angel. Take thy time.”

Was he a dove, a human, or an angel? Based on the amount of eyes he felt on his own face, he deduced he was an angel. Humans only had two eyes, and birds like doves had a beak. He had a mouth with dry, chapped lips.

He clenched his hands into fists to make sure they worked. He curled his toes, and he moved the countless wings on his head and face. All functional.

The hand in his was so warm and gentle, and the voice that spoke to him was so kind. It wouldn't hurt to have a little look. One little glance, just to get the most important features down, short enough of a look that tear stains would not register.

Though turning his head to the left hurt like a bitch, he pushed through, and he was so glad he did. Before him was a masterpiece of a man. All words escaped his head at the mere thought of trying to describe him, of trying to capture just what made him look so wonderfully divine. To him, this man was more befitting of being called an angel than he could ever be.

“...Hi,” he managed to mutter, his throat so, so dry. When had he last spoken? He couldn't quite recall, and it wouldn't have surprised him if he learned he'd never spoken a word before today.

“Hello, Gabriel,” the man replied with a soft smile. “I am glad to see thee awake at last.”

So that was his name, then. ‘Gabriel’. It did sound like a name an angel would have, so he wasn't too surprised. What he was surprised by, however, was that this man seemed to be fond of him. Him, of all people! He had to be the luckiest angel in existence.

“You're cute,” he said despite his dry-as-hell throat. His attempt at flirting was piss-poor, but it made the other chuckle, which was good. He was succeeding at capturing this man's heart.

He must've been a real flirt before he ended up here, as it came just so naturally to him. Had he gone around bars breaking hearts, or had he been a different sort?

“What’s your… Is there a name you want me to call you by?”

That question made the man fall silent, smile slowly replaced by confusion and worry. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, and all that remained was heavy, stifling unease. Absence. What was he forgetting?

“...What’s wrong?” Gabriel blinked a few times trying to make sense of this. “You can tell me.”

“Dost thou not recall my name?”

No matter how he tried, how he grasped at strings of information going by, nothing stuck. From the man's reaction, he knew he was supposed to remember. Hell, they probably had at least a friendship going on, since the man was here by him.

What's an ‘old man’ name? David?

He doesn't look like a David…

“Funnily enough, I… I don't.”

He found it amusing how confused he was, how many memories he'd seemingly lost of his own life. Surely they wouldn't stay lost forever?

“Thou may call me Minos. We cohabitate, which is to say that we are not quite dating yet, but are on the way there.”

Oh, hell yeah! He lived together with this man? He really was the luckiest angel in existence. And the fact that they were almost dating? Even better. He was hitting jackpot after jackpot.

Gabriel couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him. This was… something else, to put it mildly. Fucking insane, to put it bluntly. Hilarious, but also a little sad.

“Have we gone out on any dates yet?” He inquired, and received a shake of the head in response. “Make this our first one, then.”

Chapter 2: Am I Still Me?

Summary:

gabriel gets discharged from the hospital

Notes:

trying so very hard to keep this fic nice and soft but the angst demons call my name

It'd been a week since their ‘first’ date, and he'd at last been deemed fit to leave. He'd broken no bones, sprained only one joint, and sustained no brain damage save for the amnesia. It was a miracle, really.

They'd released him into Minos’ care, the man who he was apparently in a situationship with. Though the other had tried so hard to make him remember their past, he… couldn't recall a thing, not even what they'd planned for the evening of his incident. He couldn't recall how they'd met. He couldn't recall their first kiss, he-

Was he actually Gabriel? The image in his ID and the face in the mirror seemed to match, but could it just have been a lucky coincidence? Not that he minded his circumstances, no, he just… There was a part of him that felt like a parasite suddenly in control of its host.

Their fingers laced together so naturally when it came time to walk home, it almost made him a little sick. His life had been this perfect, yet he'd dared to forget?

Walking down the street, he felt like a robot fresh out of the factory, with the bare minimum of information uploaded into his head. He marvelled at every beautiful sight, if not by pointing it out then by just freezing in place as if utterly captivated. Had that bridge always been such a marvel of modern architecture?

His shenanigans did, however, appear to make Minos see their familiar surroundings in a new light. How long had it been since he'd seen the beauty that the fountain in the city square held? When had he last marvelled at the waves of the sea?

At the market in the city square, Gabriel dragged Minos from stall to stall, begging him to buy this and that. He'd apparently forgotten that he himself also had money in his wallet.

Occasionally, Minos would get pulled into conversations with people who were apparently mutual friends of theirs, though Gabriel stayed out of said conversations. He couldn't recognise a single face, and whenever people noted on him seeming different, Minos would chime in to tell them about his memory loss. So, there was no need for him to talk. 

After what felt like an eternity, they were done with the day's shopping. Apparently, they'd had a thing going on where Gabriel would make dinner on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, while Minos would do so on the remaining days. Today appeared to be a Wednesday, so it was his turn to at least try to remember how to cook. As Minos had taken the rest of the week off of work to help him adjust, he could whip up something if Gabriel fucked it all up.

“Dove.” Minos’ gentle words reeled him back into reality. “Dost thou recall which of those buildings our dwelling is in?”

He looked at the three apartment blocks across the street. Though the area was vaguely familiar, he couldn't be certain from this angle.

“I’m sure I'll remember if we get closer.”

“Naturally,” the other responded. “And fret not if thou cannot recall even then. ‘Tis natural with thy condition.”

Yes, yes. He wouldn't miraculously remember everything, even if he thought hard. He couldn't force himself to remember.

Passing a crosswalk, Gabriel felt his entire body tense up. It was an abnormal reaction, seeing as Minos was completely fine, but he couldn't help it. Both of his hands gripped the other's arm firmly, even when they'd gotten across. He didn't know how he would've reacted had there been an incoming car.

When they got closer to the apartments, things appeared a bit more familiar. A ‘bit’ wasn't enough, though.

“What was I like before the incident?”

He wanted to hear the man's voice. He needed it to calm his racing heart, and he needed it to keep his breathing normal. It was comforting.

“Well…” Minos began, pondering for only a second. “Thou wert much the same, save for a few things. One, thou wert far more talkative.”

Gabriel could imagine himself as the talkative sort. He could imagine himself being knowledgeable about some obscure media lore, being capable of going on hour-long tangents about this or that bit.

“Probably because I had things to talk about.”

“Perhaps.”

A moment to think. He tried to think of any nerd shit he might've been into, but he came up empty, not capable of thinking of a single video game or TV series name. He certainly hadn't been a fan of that one show about making meth. Surely. Or maybe he had been, he couldn't be sure. He'd seen an episode of it at the hospital while waiting for a scan, and he hadn't hated it.

“Thou wert also more confident, more certain of thy place in the world.”

“Because I'd already spent a few decades existing and gathering all sorts of knowledge?” He found himself sighing heavily. “Because most things weren't new to me anymore?”

It was annoying, the fact that he couldn't remember a thing. He was mad at his brain for just… locking these memories away, and he was mad at himself for getting into that damned accident that took everything that had made him Gabriel.

“...Thy memory shall return to thee eventually, my angel.”

Maybe. The doctor had said they couldn't be certain if it'd ever return, and had suggested he not place all his bets on that possibility. That was, of course, the smart thing to do. Unfortunately, he wasn't the smartest.

Is the brain cell in the room with us right now?

They soon arrived at the front door of an apartment block, and even he was surprised when Minos announced he'd been correct. In truth, he'd completely forgotten about guessing which building was theirs, and had instead just followed his intuition. Perhaps it was muscle memory, or whatever it was called.

“Lucky guess,” he muttered when the man looked at him with a smile. Better not get his hopes up, since it would hurt less to fall from lower down. Also, he kind of just didn't want the pressure of being responsible for his own memory returning. He wanted to rest, forever.

“Most definitely.”

They then went up the unfamiliar stairwell, and he recognised not a single number on the doors. Door number 11 had a peculiar wreath above the number plate --he was told he'd made it himself-- made of all sorts of seemingly recycled junk. He didn't know he'd been the creative sort.

…He was a stranger in his own home. He had to be told where to put his shoes, and he couldn't recall the floor of the little vestibule being a few centimetres higher than that of the next room, leading to him nearly twisting his ankle when he moved further in. Minos said they'd been meaning to fix that for a while.

The living room was nice and orderly, with an open view to the kitchen. It seemed far too clean, as if it'd been cleaned just earlier that day, with incredible precision. There was no way they would've kept the place this pristine.

“I apologise for the abysmal state of the room. I did do my best to-”

“Are you kidding me? This has to be the cleanest room I've ever seen,” Gabriel responded, wiping his finger across a shelf to see only a few specks of dust. “Did we actually live like this?”

“Well… Before, thou wert very particular about the cleanliness of our dwelling.”

Geez, he had to have been the most annoying person alive! How could Minos stand it? He found himself exhausted at the idea of keeping this whole place pristine, and he doubted the man felt differently.

“I hereby release you from the obligation of keeping this place as pristine as a museum. A good home needs to look lived in, like there's actually people there.” He flopped down on the rather comfortable-looking couch. “Right now, our home looks like a mausoleum.”

“...If King Gabriel decrees it so.”

Chapter 3: Old and New Routines

Summary:

gabriel makes pasta while talking about things

Notes:

oh worm

“Where do we keep our pasta?”

Gabriel glanced at the other, who was reading a newspaper in the living room. He appeared perfectly content.

“Third cupboard from the refrigerator. The container hath a blue lid.”

He envied how the answer came to Minos with such ease. Of course, it was him with the memory loss and not the other, but… He didn't want to bother the man with such simple questions. Couldn't he just go through all the cabinets and cupboards every time he needed something?

After finding the pasta, Gabriel directed his attention to the remaining ingredients. Chicken strips (or whatever they were called), cream cheese, cooking cream… Oh, and onions. One large onion would do nicely.

It was funny how he could remember this specific recipe by heart. No other recipe had appeared in his head when it'd come time to decide what to make, so a simple pasta dish it would be. 

Now… Wait, where in the world were the pots? He'd already found a pan, that'd been in a cupboard to the right of the oven, on the middle shelf.

“Uhm, Minos? Where could I find-”

“Cupboard to the left of the oven.”

He couldn't even finish his question before the man answered, confident in his answer. It just so turned out that he was also correct somehow.

“I recognise the meal thou art preparing. ‘Tis one of thy favourites to make when lacking the energy to cook something more grand.”

“Oh? I kind of got the image that I was someone with infinite energy,” he replied as he retrieved a pot. “Someone who could clean for hours and still have the energy to cook fancy meals, go outside, and do other normal person things.”

“Not quite. There were good days, when thou wert at the top of the world, and then bad days, when thou scarcely possessed the energy to rise from bed.”

…Ah. He'd felt something akin to that during the past week, too, where some days were inexplicably harder than others. Days where washing one's face took up two fifths of one's energy instead of just one.

“So I’m guessing I wasn't able to keep down a job, then?”

Gabriel knew he was just assuming, but there’d been more hints than this suggesting he was unemployed. For one, Minos hadn't even mentioned anything about talking to his employer, or him receiving sick leave or something of the sort.

“Unfortunately, no place of employment quite fit thy needs,” Minos responded softly. “However, thou occasionally volunteered at the library where I work.”

“And that's how we met?”

“Incorrect. ‘Twas at a local tavern, my dove.”

Tavern? He hadn't thought either of them had been that type, but it appeared he'd been mistaken. Instead of focusing on that, however, he focused on the onion he was dicing. It was the perfect specimen.

“Thou used to say bars were chock-full of ‘slimy people’, which was why thou preferred the tavern.”

That sounded about right. Bars tended to be loud, crowded, and otherwise just unpleasant, not to mention the amount of shady people sailing about. The local tavern was probably smaller, and had just a few regulars in every night.

“...One time, I lost a hundred playing poker against thee,” Minos suddenly revealed. He hadn't taken himself for a gambling man, either.

“I knew how to play poker..?”

“Yes, and thou then bought us dinner with that money.”

That was more like him, he supposed. He wouldn't just rob an older gentleman like that, would he? 

“Because you wouldn't?”

“...” The man stayed silent for a while, before speaking. “Thy assumption is not incorrect.”

Aha! He knew he'd been above robbing people, he knew. Definitely.

Gabriel dumped enough pasta for two people (that's bullshit, you know there's no such thing as ‘enough pasta’) into the pot of now-boiling water. Perhaps they'd have enough leftovers for tomorrow.

Tomorrow's… Thursday, right? We'd have more time to get to know each other again if he's not busy cooking.

“Wouldst thou consider accompanying me to work on Monday? Familiar surroundings could jog thy memory.”

That was true, he supposed. If he lived like the previous Gabriel had, surely he'd start remembering things again. Everything would slowly come back to him.

“That'd be nice,” he hummed. “Besides, I’d get to show you how damn good I'm at working. I think.”