Sylar - Gabriel Gray (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
watchmakersylar) wrote2009-12-19 01:26 pm
watchmakersylar) wrote2009-12-19 01:26 pm
Entry tags:
I Should Have Brought Flowers - Sylar
Character: Sylar, Noah, Rene
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 628
Rating: G
Notes: A few years after Virginia's death. I am apparently incapable of writing a non-depressing fic. Sorry
Prompt for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
scifi_muses
Arturo Bandini: Sick in my soul I tried to face the ordeal of seeking forgiveness. From whom? What God, what Christ? They were myths I once believed and now they were beliefs I felt were myths.
My breath smoked in the air. Snow swirled in a lazy dance as the tears of the angels sought the icy earth. The gate let out a small shriek as I pushed it open. Old black paint flaking, showing rust and wear from years of wet, cold winters. Snowflakes melting on my lashes and cheeks as I gazed upward. The sky was a mosaic of gray and white. It was so cold that it hurt to breathe.
A blanket of pristine white, glittering snow covered the boughs of the scraggly winter starved trees that during summer offered shade to the visitors of the dead. Each tombstone was laden, and the upturned face of the angel over my mother’s grave was a blank mask of ice. Her wings darkened by mold and moss that had died in the cold.
“I would have come sooner, mom, but it wasn’t safe.” Hunkering down on my heels, I pulled off my black leather gloves with my teeth. I placed my hand on the marker, brushing the snow out of the carving, so I could read her name. As the cold numbed my skin, I begged her for forgiveness for being away for so long.
I knew there were no flowers under the covering of snow, no footsteps that belonged to anyone other than the grounds keeper. I didn’t need to touch her tombstone to know that no one came to visit her. I’d never been there before, and I was all she had left.
“They’re hunting me. I’m never alone now. I’m wanted by everyone.” My laugh shattered the stillness, and I could feel the tears on my face grow cold before they traveled far. “Remember how I hated being alone? How I wanted to be special, and for people to care about me, now I’d kill for that. For a few days where I didn’t have to watch a door, or flinch if I hear a loud noise. They can’t kill me, but they can hurt me. I hurt all the time, and I miss you.”
“I was wrong, so wrong about you. You weren’t a horrible mother.” The crust on the snow broke as I dropped down on my knees, the wet soaking into my jeans and adding to the cold that had seeped into my core and what’s left of my soul. “You loved me, and no one else ever did. You wanted me, and I didn’t appreciate it. I’m so sorry, mom.”
“I wish I could go back, be who I used to be. I know you thought I was wasting my life, but mom it was a better life. I had a home. I had a job, and I had you. You needed me, and as much as I hated it, I needed you too.”
The stillness was shattered by the sound of a car door slamming, and the sound of the gate being pushed open behind me. I knew who it was before I heard his voice.
“I knew you’d come here. It’s been how many years, Gabriel?”
“Apparently not enough, Noah.” Reaching into my pocket as I stood, I took out the snow globe I brought for my mother, and balanced it on the outstretched hands of the angel guarding her. “I won’t fight you here.”
“I was counting on that.” He wasn’t alone.
I lost count of the bullets that hit me. My blood blossomed on the snow at the feet of her angel, spreading warm and color where none had been before. I couldn’t move. I was helpless and drowning as it filled my lungs. I gazed up into Noah’s face as he and the Haitian loomed over me. The snow fell on my face, freezing my tears as the world went black.
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 628
Rating: G
Notes: A few years after Virginia's death. I am apparently incapable of writing a non-depressing fic. Sorry
Prompt for
scifi_musesArturo Bandini: Sick in my soul I tried to face the ordeal of seeking forgiveness. From whom? What God, what Christ? They were myths I once believed and now they were beliefs I felt were myths.
My breath smoked in the air. Snow swirled in a lazy dance as the tears of the angels sought the icy earth. The gate let out a small shriek as I pushed it open. Old black paint flaking, showing rust and wear from years of wet, cold winters. Snowflakes melting on my lashes and cheeks as I gazed upward. The sky was a mosaic of gray and white. It was so cold that it hurt to breathe.
A blanket of pristine white, glittering snow covered the boughs of the scraggly winter starved trees that during summer offered shade to the visitors of the dead. Each tombstone was laden, and the upturned face of the angel over my mother’s grave was a blank mask of ice. Her wings darkened by mold and moss that had died in the cold.
“I would have come sooner, mom, but it wasn’t safe.” Hunkering down on my heels, I pulled off my black leather gloves with my teeth. I placed my hand on the marker, brushing the snow out of the carving, so I could read her name. As the cold numbed my skin, I begged her for forgiveness for being away for so long.
I knew there were no flowers under the covering of snow, no footsteps that belonged to anyone other than the grounds keeper. I didn’t need to touch her tombstone to know that no one came to visit her. I’d never been there before, and I was all she had left.
“They’re hunting me. I’m never alone now. I’m wanted by everyone.” My laugh shattered the stillness, and I could feel the tears on my face grow cold before they traveled far. “Remember how I hated being alone? How I wanted to be special, and for people to care about me, now I’d kill for that. For a few days where I didn’t have to watch a door, or flinch if I hear a loud noise. They can’t kill me, but they can hurt me. I hurt all the time, and I miss you.”
“I was wrong, so wrong about you. You weren’t a horrible mother.” The crust on the snow broke as I dropped down on my knees, the wet soaking into my jeans and adding to the cold that had seeped into my core and what’s left of my soul. “You loved me, and no one else ever did. You wanted me, and I didn’t appreciate it. I’m so sorry, mom.”
“I wish I could go back, be who I used to be. I know you thought I was wasting my life, but mom it was a better life. I had a home. I had a job, and I had you. You needed me, and as much as I hated it, I needed you too.”
The stillness was shattered by the sound of a car door slamming, and the sound of the gate being pushed open behind me. I knew who it was before I heard his voice.
“I knew you’d come here. It’s been how many years, Gabriel?”
“Apparently not enough, Noah.” Reaching into my pocket as I stood, I took out the snow globe I brought for my mother, and balanced it on the outstretched hands of the angel guarding her. “I won’t fight you here.”
“I was counting on that.” He wasn’t alone.
I lost count of the bullets that hit me. My blood blossomed on the snow at the feet of her angel, spreading warm and color where none had been before. I couldn’t move. I was helpless and drowning as it filled my lungs. I gazed up into Noah’s face as he and the Haitian loomed over me. The snow fell on my face, freezing my tears as the world went black.
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a sad fic for such a sunny day.
:o(
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Thanks hon, glad you liked it.
I'm going to go cry now.
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That was heartbreaking and I could so easily imagine the scene considering the state of weather out here.
Excellent job~!
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Thanks hon, glad you liked it.
I'm going to go cry now.
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That was amazing. Wrist-slashingly depressing, but amazing. :(
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XOXO
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Liz says she does not approve of your blowing shit up shenanigans.
I think Liz's opinion is completely irrelevant in this matter. :P
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Well she probably wouldn't have come back to do it.
(OK...fuck it. Sick of switching...)
No...I think a well directed fireball does a LOT to stop a person, as you are aware.
Less civilian casualties than an explosion, too.
Re: (OK...fuck it. Sick of switching...)
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I don't think Angela was innocent at all from that e-mail you sent us.
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(LMAO!)
Re: (LMAO!)
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Trust me, it happens.
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Maybe of the fire sure, but what about your emotions?
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I guess I don't...understand that.
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I see.
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I love the fic, but it's cause for wibbling.
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I can't write happy. Think I need to go write Mal getting hammered or something. He's happy...sort of...
<3
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If I wasn't in Level Five visiting my batshit crazy boyfriend I'd bring you cake and tea, sweetheart.
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Cake and Lightsaber battles and...Star Trek...
*sadface*
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Heartbreaking!
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that was really good.
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