Sylar - Gabriel Gray

“Pull your head out of your ass, Liz.” I glared, stalking toward Liz and forcing her to back up until she was against the cinderblock walls of the training room. “Stop being afraid of your power!”

“I can’t!” She trembled, and I could feel the flare of her anger. “I’ll hurt someone.”

“You’ll hurt them if you can’t control it. If you don’t practice, you can’t learn control.” I was pushing her, and it was only a matter of time before she lashed out at me. Good thing I can’t die. “You’re not some idiot like Peter Petrelli. Now focus!”

Drabble List

It’d been too long since I’d felt blood on my fingers. Too long since I tasted the coppery tang on my tongue, and my sanity was frayed to gossamer tatters. There was no sense of right or wrong. It didn’t matter that I knew this girl. It didn’t concern me that her power was useless. All I cared about was slicing her head open and slipping my fingers along the folds of her brain.

Amy was panting, dragging one leg, trying to escape around the corner. I let her think she could get away. It was more fun that way.

Drabble Meme

Character: Sylar and Gabe
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 655
Rating: PG
Prompt: Marion: Well, Jones, at least you haven't forgotten how to show a lady a good time. for scifi_muses
Verse: rp_shadesofgray and a bit of Twitterverse thrown in. graylikeme is featured with love as always.

It was a little too warm in the diner, the sun shining directly across our table and glinting off of the silverware and chrome napkin holder. Outside I could see fat lazy bees flying around a bed of marigolds and daisies. It was a perfect lazy summer day in the middle of some little town whose name I hadn’t bothered to remember.

“Are you bored, Sylar?” Gabriel asked from his side of the booth as he wiped his hands clean after eating the last of his French fries. He smiled as Bonny, the waitress, came over with our dessert and cleared the table. “That pie is a work of art.”

He was right. It was beautiful. His was filled with golden slices of fresh peaches, while mine was stuffed with plump cherries fresh from a can of pie filling. The ice cream scoops were already starting to drip down the sides from the warmth of the pie, and I knew the sunlight would turn them into sludge soon.

“Not bored.” No I wasn’t bored. I was nervous. It’d been a long time since anyone had tried to bag and tag us, but I had that itchy feeling along the back of my neck. At home in New York I wasn’t worried about it, but out here in the middle of wherever we were the old instincts were kicking in. It probably didn’t help that all roadside diners looked alike, and this one reminded me of the one where Luke and I had to deal with unwelcome visitors.

“They aren’t after you anymore,” Gabe pointed out with his fork before taking his first bite. His dark eyes closed, and I was waiting to hear him make an orgasmic sound from the look on his face. “We won, remember?”

“I know.” I took a blob of ice cream and pie, and had my own moment of nirvana. “But I feel like we’re being watched.”

“You’re always paranoid,” he pointed out, giving me the smug I know you better than anyone look.

“Better to be paranoid than locked up,” was my answer. “But I will try to relax. OK?”

“OK. There are more shops two towns down the highway on my list. We should be able to hit them both before sundown the way you drive.” Then he let out a snort. “We could get to them and another two towns the way you drive.”

“I’m an excellent driver, Gabe.”

“You have a led foot. I’m surprised the car still has paint.”

“You’re just upset because I won’t let you drive her again.” He’d scared me enough when I’d let him drive on the second day of our trip.

“You’re the one who wanted me to drive. You keep insisting that I’ll know how because you do.” He folded his arms across his chest, glowering at me. “I told you I can’t drive.”

“And I told you…”

“Is that your car, son?” We both looked up started at the shape looming over the table. The sun sparkling on his badge was only a momentary distraction from the gun at his hip. “The Mustang with the New York plates?”

I dropped my fork, turning in the booth ready to send the guy sailing over the counter and into the deep fryer with telekinesis if he made a move. Gabe and I locked eyes, and I could see him ready to do the same thing to his partner who was ambling over.

“Yeah that’s my car. Is there a problem?” I wanted to get up, but the cop was blocking my end of the booth. There were a lot of innocent people in the diner too, and I wasn’t in the mood to hurt anyone really. “Do you need to see my license and registration?”

“Oh no, my partner and I were arguing about what year it is. Is it a ’68 or a ’69, and is it all original?”

“I don’t understand, Gabe!” I hate this. She fucked him over, and he won’t let me kill her. “She cheated on you! That bitch broke your heart.” Broke mine too, ripped it out and left it steaming on my living room floor next to Trevor’s corpse. “We should hunt Elle down and kill her.”

“We can’t.” His lips pull back from his teeth in a snarl that nearly matches the one I’m wearing. “I loved her.”

“Loved her. You don’t love her now. It’s been months. She’s screwed with us again, and you’re still forbidding me from killing that bitch.”

Drabble Master List

“We need to talk, Liz.” I sat her down on the sofa. “You’re making a huge mistake. I kept my mouth shut the first time, but I can’t anymore. You’re better than this, and I’m afraid you’re going to get hurt.”

“I’m a big girl, Sylar. I’m not a kid.” I could see the flames crackling in her eyes.

“Then stop acting like one. It’s one hair brained scheme after another with you. You might not be a kid, but you’re acting like you live in a sitcom. There is no laugh track, Liz. This is real life. Grow up.”

Drabble Master List

Character: Sylar/Gabriel
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 454
Rating: PG suggested slashyness
Notes: rp_shadesofgray verse
Prompt:Morpheus: If real is what you can feel, smell, taste and see, then 'real' is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain for scifi_muses

The Red Pill

Can’t sleep, and it’s not because clowns will eat me. I almost laugh at my own joke, but I don’t want to wake Gabe. He’s sleeping next to me, rolled onto his stomach, one arm wrapped around the pillow. The bed’s much smaller than we’re used to, but it’s a step or twelve up from the cot at the shop. After a week of hiding there, I finally convinced him that we could move to a hotel and room hop until we found them.

I trace a finger over his shoulder, then kiss along his neck, doing my best not to wake him up. But I need the contact. I’m afraid that I’m going to fall asleep, and he’ll be gone. Not because of the Other either. Because I’m afraid time will repair itself.

When Angela was slaughtered, it thought that would be the end of the chaos she’d caused. I was terrified that Gabriel and Candice would both be taken from me as time righted itself. They’d be yanked back to their own realities, and I’d be alone in what was left of mine.

But when that didn’t happen, I relaxed. Well as much as I could while preparing for my darker counterpart to come after me. When he destroyed the Company, killing Nakamura, I was certain that would be the end of it all. He was the master of time and space after all, and if time was going to reset you’d think his death would make that happen.

It didn’t. We’re still here. The three of us, our broken, fucked up little family is still here, and so are all the others who have been trapped here. More are arriving every day. They aren’t all specials or people that I know. Regular people are overlapping too, and no one seems to notice or care.

Angela thought she was the nexus, the reason for the swirling vortex, but she was wrong. It didn’t matter that she died. It didn’t matter that Hiro died. I was the subject of their experiment. I was the reason time was shattered. I’m the reason it stays broken.

The watchmaker’s son responsible for layer upon layer of time mingling and crashing into itself for eternity. As long as I’m alive people will be drawn here, ripped from their own realities. If I was a better man, I’d find a way to fix it. If I was Peter Petrelli, I’d sacrifice myself to set things right.

But I’m not the hero. I never will be.

I curl my arms around Gabriel, breathing in his scent, and kiss the back of his neck one more time. I won’t let him go. We will be together until time itself ends.