watchmakersylar: (Default)
He almost killed me. One minute I’m trying to explain how our ability works, and the next he’s hit me in the back of the head with a coffee mug. The irony of that wasn’t lost as my forehead smashed into the kitchen cabinet, and I went down my chin snapping on the counter on the way to the floor. My mouth was filled with blood, and Gabriel was on top of me. He hit me again, harder this time, and I blacked out.


When I woke up, there was blood in my ears, and I couldn’t see. I could feel his weight as he straddled me, holding him face down on the small kitchen floor. My mouth wouldn’t work, and my arms and legs trembled uncontrollably as he dug in my brain.

This must be what karma tastes like. I tried to move. Tried to make words. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, as he leaned into see what he could find. I was scared, terrified that he’d break me. That one of his fingers would destroy the regeneration, and I’d die from a simple mistake. Killed by the person I knew best in the world because he was who I’d been.

What few words I could force out fell on deaf ears. Of course they did, I wouldn’t have listened either. It wasn’t until I managed to say his name that Gabriel stopped.

Rage filled every inch of me as my brain and skull were finally allowed to heal. When I got to my knees, the blood squelched around me, clinging to me and my clothes. I grabbed him around the throat, squeezing hard and shoved him into the cabinet hard enough to crack the wood. I was shaking, vibrating, in my anger.

He was blubbering that he was sorry, calling me ‘brother’ the way he always does, but I was in no mood for that.

“Say my name, Gabriel.” I got in his face, close enough that I could have ripped it open with my teeth. “Who am I?”

“Sylar…” It was barely more than a whisper, and it wasn’t enough.

“I can’t hear you. There’s too much fucking blood in my ears!” I screamed at him. My hunger was in control now, and it wanted me to kill him, to tap dance in his fucking blood for daring to challenge us.

“Sylar. You’re Sylar.”

Drawing back, I crawled into the far corner and rocked back and forth, hitting my own head into the wall until I could think. I told him to run, because I didn’t think I could control it. I wanted revenge. The thing inside of me still crying for blood, because that meek thing had dared to steal from me.

But he didn’t leave. He came over and held onto me, crying, begging for forgiveness. The bond we share snapped into place, and I finally managed to get control of the hunger. When I could speak, it was my normal voice again.

After we cleaned up the kitchen and ourselves, I climbed into the bed next to him, falling asleep in my old room, wearing his clothes. I knew he’d never try to hurt me again. It was the only reason I didn’t kill him in his sleep.
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watchmakersylar: (Default)
Sylar - Gabriel Gray

July 2012

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