![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Character: Sylar/Peter
Genre: slash
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thewatchmaker
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 444
Rating: R language and blood
Prompts: 01. Hemophobia; Fear of Blood {it’s just a little blood} for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
13_fears 1/13
098. No time for sickness. for100_fairytales 44/100
Claudia: Quit talking like some silly simpering schoolgirl. You're a military woman, born, bred, and trained and you're too much of a scrapper to give up like this without a fight! forscifi_muses vol3.week24
Notes: Set during the Wall
“I can’t look,” Peter said with a squeak as he turned his head to the side. His dark hair was plastered against his forehead, and he was breathing hard like he’d run a marathon. I could see the pain in his dark eyes, and I hated it. “Just do it, OK.”
I wanted to roll my eyes. Wanted to give him shit about being a coward, and how he should suck it up like a man instead of whining like a little boy. But when he looked at me with so much trust I didn’t know what to do. I’d seen that look before, and it wasn’t for me. Those eyes were for Nathan. That was who he wanted to take care of him. It wasn’t the serial killer who murdered his brother.
“I don’t want to do this, Peter.” There was so much blood running down his leg, soaking the fabric of his jeans. The broken bottle had sliced right through them and his leg when he’d fallen. Guilt filled my gut when I thought about him getting hurt, about his blood on my hands. It was my fault. I’d been the one to start the fight that ended in us trying to tear each other apart on the floor of the convenience store. My fault that he’d crashed into a display of vodka that had shattered on impact.
“Well you have to. I can’t fucking stitch up the back of my own leg now can I?” He reached over and grabbed a fist full of my hair and pulled. It hurt when he pulled my hair, and for a little payback I poured more of the cheap booze on the cut. Peter hissed like a snake at the sudden burning pain. “I told you how to do it, asshole. Just thread the damn needle and start sewing.”
“I hope it leaves a huge scar,” I said, lying through my teeth as I bit into my lip. The sight of blood was making me sick, and that wasn’t normal for me at all. For the first time since I split Brian Davis’ head open, I didn’t want to lick the blood off of my fingers. I hated the sight of it. I was so afraid that he’d get an infection and die, leaving me alone once more.
“Yeah so do I. Chicks dig scars, Sylar.” He reached for my head again, and I jerked away, afraid that he was going to pull my hair or hit me. He let out a heavy sigh, and patted me on the shoulder instead. “I know you can do this. Don’t be afraid of a little blood.”
Comments make the serial killer happy. Thanks for reading!
Genre: slash
Author:
thewatchmakerFandom: Heroes
Word count: 444
Rating: R language and blood
Prompts: 01. Hemophobia; Fear of Blood {it’s just a little blood} for
13_fears 1/13098. No time for sickness. for
100_fairytales 44/100Claudia: Quit talking like some silly simpering schoolgirl. You're a military woman, born, bred, and trained and you're too much of a scrapper to give up like this without a fight! for
scifi_muses vol3.week24Notes: Set during the Wall
“I can’t look,” Peter said with a squeak as he turned his head to the side. His dark hair was plastered against his forehead, and he was breathing hard like he’d run a marathon. I could see the pain in his dark eyes, and I hated it. “Just do it, OK.”
I wanted to roll my eyes. Wanted to give him shit about being a coward, and how he should suck it up like a man instead of whining like a little boy. But when he looked at me with so much trust I didn’t know what to do. I’d seen that look before, and it wasn’t for me. Those eyes were for Nathan. That was who he wanted to take care of him. It wasn’t the serial killer who murdered his brother.
“I don’t want to do this, Peter.” There was so much blood running down his leg, soaking the fabric of his jeans. The broken bottle had sliced right through them and his leg when he’d fallen. Guilt filled my gut when I thought about him getting hurt, about his blood on my hands. It was my fault. I’d been the one to start the fight that ended in us trying to tear each other apart on the floor of the convenience store. My fault that he’d crashed into a display of vodka that had shattered on impact.
“Well you have to. I can’t fucking stitch up the back of my own leg now can I?” He reached over and grabbed a fist full of my hair and pulled. It hurt when he pulled my hair, and for a little payback I poured more of the cheap booze on the cut. Peter hissed like a snake at the sudden burning pain. “I told you how to do it, asshole. Just thread the damn needle and start sewing.”
“I hope it leaves a huge scar,” I said, lying through my teeth as I bit into my lip. The sight of blood was making me sick, and that wasn’t normal for me at all. For the first time since I split Brian Davis’ head open, I didn’t want to lick the blood off of my fingers. I hated the sight of it. I was so afraid that he’d get an infection and die, leaving me alone once more.
“Yeah so do I. Chicks dig scars, Sylar.” He reached for my head again, and I jerked away, afraid that he was going to pull my hair or hit me. He let out a heavy sigh, and patted me on the shoulder instead. “I know you can do this. Don’t be afraid of a little blood.”
Comments make the serial killer happy. Thanks for reading!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 04:18 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 06:21 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 06:28 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 06:29 am (UTC)From:That hurt.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 07:03 am (UTC)From:Pretty sure that's why I did it.
*shrugs*
I was still pissed off. *snorts* I don't even remember what we fought about
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 01:51 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 02:03 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 05:21 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 05:36 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 06:04 pm (UTC)From:But seriously, I really do adore these stories. I think you, more than anyone, get the exact characterizations of Sylar and Peter down pat. (Well, and empath_peter, obviously.)
I know this is in the wall!verse, but shouldn't Peter not care if it leaves a scar? It's a dream...
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 06:09 pm (UTC)From:That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said about my Sylar and Empath's Peter. Thank you. You just made my entire day.
Probably he wouldn't care a whole lot, but there are times when the line between the dream and reality blurs.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 06:12 pm (UTC)From:(Although I wonder if he just thought that was what was supposed to happen? Or more intriguingly, if Sylar's subconscious put the glass there? I gotta stop watching Inception.)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 06:14 pm (UTC)From:Inception didn't do it for me. I got annoyed at how often they had to explain what was going on because I got it.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 06:25 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2011-01-19 08:16 pm (UTC)From:(I like the universe that Inception created, this dream sharing thing, and exploring the subconscious. Plus I'm a sucker for Arthur and Eames.)
That's a good point, in a way, it probably was Sylar that was keeping himself in the nightmare, since he thought he deserved it. Then when Peter showed up to get him out, he subconsciously kept him in because he was still mad, blabhblahblah we already know all that. I wonder, then, if Peter made up the copy of Pillars of the Earth, as opposed to digging around Sylar's head to find it? (If that makes sense.)
Sorry to keep sending you these long responses, by the way.