2009-02-12 22:22![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thewatchmaker
thewatchmakerCharacters: Sylar, Luke, Samson and OC
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: NC 17 by the time I'm done
Word Count: 1444
Prompt: Human Touch by Rick Springfield![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
scifi_muses
Part One
Part Two
The ATM was already useless when we got there. The Feds probably shut down my accounts before they showed up at my house. Didn’t help my temper at all though. I was in the mood to kill a few more people by the time we crossed state lines and pulled into a craptastic motel. I rested my forehead against the steering wheel, kind of wished the airbag would deploy so I’d have a nice pillow.
“Rachel?” Dad reached over the back of the seat to touch my shoulder. “Honey, it’ll be all right. Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry!” Closing my eyes I bounced my head on the steering wheel a few more times. “We’ve got no money. I’m almost out of gas. I just killed five people, and I didn’t bother to count the rest of the body count. I think I’ve got a good reason to worry, dad.”
“He’s right, Rachel.” Sylar slid out of the car, and then reached into the backseat to grab my backpack before raising the seat so Luke could get out. “We’re fine for money. Don’t worry about it.”
“Right, we’re just going to turn into the Deep South version of Bonny and Clyde, bank robbing siblings. I’m looking forward to it.” The hinges of the car door shrieked as I shoved it open hard enough for it to bounce back. My feet slid on the gravel of the parking lot as I got out, and I fell back into the car biting my tongue hard enough to draw blood. “Shit.”
I stomped towards the office with what money I’d had in my bag stuffed into my jeans pocket leaving the boys behind. The office was little more than a kiosk, and I could smell the years of cigarette smoke seeping from it before I was too close. A fat man in a wife beater gave me a long look as I stepped up to the yellowed glass. He liked what he saw. I didn’t need to be able to feel his emotions to know that, and I was sorely glad that I couldn’t really read his mind.
“I need two rooms, adjoining.”
“Got a pair of rooms next to each other in the back building.” His eyes flickered toward the convex mirror that gave him a view of the parking lot and back of his closet. “Forty bucks a night for both.”
I slid the money through the slot, and he gave me a pair of keys with kite shaped tags. His knuckles were stained with nicotine and so were the key tags. I would have given my Kingdom, not that I had anything other than another $60 and my car to my name now, for a pair of latex gloves. I tossed the keys to Sylar. “We’ve got two rooms back here. I need to stretch my legs.”
The boys followed me, dad and Luke. Luke looked like he was on Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, and Dad looked like he was going to have a stroke. I could feel his worry for me. It was cloying. I hated it.
“Rachel,” Dad said, taking one of the keys from me and handing it to Luke. “I want to talk to you.”
“What is it, dad?” I leaned against the peeling plastic siding of the hovel.
“I’m worried about you.”
“I know. I can feel it. I know I never told you about me, and what I can do. I’m sorry. But it’s not like you’ve been exactly free with the information either.” His concern was making me mad. Tired. Crazy.
“You don’t know anything about him. You’ve risked everything helping him.”
“I guess that means you raised me right then doesn’t it?”
“Is there a problem?” Sylar asked, coming up behind us. How someone that big could be so quiet amazed me. He looked at us like we were bugs, but it was still curiosity that radiated from him and amusement.
“No, no problem.” I glared at them both and headed for the other room. I shoved the last of my money into Dad’s hand. “I need a check my email, and see what’s going on. Go to the store and get us some food. Grab a bottle of hair dye too. I don’t care what color. I need to change how I look.”
Sylar followed me into the room and closed the door. “You’re pretty good at this. Been on the lam before?”
“No,” I said as I unzipped my laptop from the bag and booted it up. “But I’ve had a lot of experience with people who have. I’m a lawyer, Sylar, assistant district attorney actually. I put people like us in jail.”
He was laughing so hard his body shook. He dropped onto one of the beds and stretched out his long legs, turning the TV on with a flick of his fingers. He wasn’t holding the remote control.
“Show off.” I climbed up onto the other bed after going to the bathroom. If I’m lucky I’ll forget what it looked like by the time I’m in my eighties. Disgusting doesn’t come close to the reality.
“They’re saying you’ve been kidnapped.” I looked at the grainy picture on the TV. They were showing my ID picture from the county. It wasn’t a great picture.
“Too bad they didn’t decide that I died in the explosion at the house.” My fingers were shaking as I typed my passwords into my email. I was so mad. I had to retype my password four times.
“I’m sorry, Rachel.” Sylar flicked the TV off, and walked over to sit on the bed next to me. Being so close to him scared me because it felt like where I belonged. I was so fucked up. He reached over and brushed some of my hair out of my face. “I just wanted to find out where I came from. Are you okay?”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “The serial killer is worried about me.”
“The serial killer is worried about his sister who just killed five guys who were trying to hurt me.” His eyes locked with mine. I dug my fingers into the bedspread fighting the pull of his personality on mine. “Your father wants me gone.”
“He’s just scared. Sometimes I get lost when I’m around people.” Looking down at my lap, my hair covered my face. “I pick up on their emotions so much that I lose track of my own. He’s afraid that I’m going to turn into you. It’s funny since he didn’t know what I was capable of. But then neither did I.”
“You’re feeling guilty?” His long fingered hands covered mine. When he touched me the rest of the world faded away. Was it like this before we were born and taken from each other?
“No, they would have killed you…us all. Gabriel…Sylar, sometimes I’m not sure that I have feelings of my own at all. I think I’m just a sponge soaking it all up. Just a mirror reflecting what other people feel.” I tried to get up, I needed to pace, but he wouldn’t let go of my hands. “I’m so fucked up.”
“It runs in the family. I thought it would be different for you since you had him your whole life. He seems all right. He didn’t leave you.”
“No, but I wish he had. He wasn’t strong enough to leave mom. He didn’t love her. He was afraid of her.” I swallowed, trying to get my mouth to work. “Now he’s afraid of me. He’s never been afraid of me before.”
“Do you think he’ll be back, Rachel?” He finally let go of my hands, so I could walk to the filthy window to look out on the dark parking lot.
“I don’t know. If I was him, I’d turn us in and save myself.”
“No you wouldn’t.” He paced over to stand behind me, his hands on my shoulders. “We could go without them.”
“I don’t have any money left, Gabriel. Do you have any? I was serious when I joked about us robbing banks.”
“We don’t need your money, Rachel.” He reached past me and took one of the blades from the cheap blinds in between his fingers. I watched as the cheap aluminum shimmered and turned to gold. “I’ve got the Midas touch.”
“Holy shit.” I ran my fingers over the thin slice of gold. “Is this how you keep going?”
“It helps. I haven’t always been able to do it. But it sure beats washing dishes to pay for my food. I don’t mind killing, but I don’t like being a thief.”
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: NC 17 by the time I'm done
Word Count: 1444
Prompt: Human Touch by Rick Springfield
scifi_musesPart One
Part Two
The ATM was already useless when we got there. The Feds probably shut down my accounts before they showed up at my house. Didn’t help my temper at all though. I was in the mood to kill a few more people by the time we crossed state lines and pulled into a craptastic motel. I rested my forehead against the steering wheel, kind of wished the airbag would deploy so I’d have a nice pillow.
“Rachel?” Dad reached over the back of the seat to touch my shoulder. “Honey, it’ll be all right. Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry!” Closing my eyes I bounced my head on the steering wheel a few more times. “We’ve got no money. I’m almost out of gas. I just killed five people, and I didn’t bother to count the rest of the body count. I think I’ve got a good reason to worry, dad.”
“He’s right, Rachel.” Sylar slid out of the car, and then reached into the backseat to grab my backpack before raising the seat so Luke could get out. “We’re fine for money. Don’t worry about it.”
“Right, we’re just going to turn into the Deep South version of Bonny and Clyde, bank robbing siblings. I’m looking forward to it.” The hinges of the car door shrieked as I shoved it open hard enough for it to bounce back. My feet slid on the gravel of the parking lot as I got out, and I fell back into the car biting my tongue hard enough to draw blood. “Shit.”
I stomped towards the office with what money I’d had in my bag stuffed into my jeans pocket leaving the boys behind. The office was little more than a kiosk, and I could smell the years of cigarette smoke seeping from it before I was too close. A fat man in a wife beater gave me a long look as I stepped up to the yellowed glass. He liked what he saw. I didn’t need to be able to feel his emotions to know that, and I was sorely glad that I couldn’t really read his mind.
“I need two rooms, adjoining.”
“Got a pair of rooms next to each other in the back building.” His eyes flickered toward the convex mirror that gave him a view of the parking lot and back of his closet. “Forty bucks a night for both.”
I slid the money through the slot, and he gave me a pair of keys with kite shaped tags. His knuckles were stained with nicotine and so were the key tags. I would have given my Kingdom, not that I had anything other than another $60 and my car to my name now, for a pair of latex gloves. I tossed the keys to Sylar. “We’ve got two rooms back here. I need to stretch my legs.”
The boys followed me, dad and Luke. Luke looked like he was on Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, and Dad looked like he was going to have a stroke. I could feel his worry for me. It was cloying. I hated it.
“Rachel,” Dad said, taking one of the keys from me and handing it to Luke. “I want to talk to you.”
“What is it, dad?” I leaned against the peeling plastic siding of the hovel.
“I’m worried about you.”
“I know. I can feel it. I know I never told you about me, and what I can do. I’m sorry. But it’s not like you’ve been exactly free with the information either.” His concern was making me mad. Tired. Crazy.
“You don’t know anything about him. You’ve risked everything helping him.”
“I guess that means you raised me right then doesn’t it?”
“Is there a problem?” Sylar asked, coming up behind us. How someone that big could be so quiet amazed me. He looked at us like we were bugs, but it was still curiosity that radiated from him and amusement.
“No, no problem.” I glared at them both and headed for the other room. I shoved the last of my money into Dad’s hand. “I need a check my email, and see what’s going on. Go to the store and get us some food. Grab a bottle of hair dye too. I don’t care what color. I need to change how I look.”
Sylar followed me into the room and closed the door. “You’re pretty good at this. Been on the lam before?”
“No,” I said as I unzipped my laptop from the bag and booted it up. “But I’ve had a lot of experience with people who have. I’m a lawyer, Sylar, assistant district attorney actually. I put people like us in jail.”
He was laughing so hard his body shook. He dropped onto one of the beds and stretched out his long legs, turning the TV on with a flick of his fingers. He wasn’t holding the remote control.
“Show off.” I climbed up onto the other bed after going to the bathroom. If I’m lucky I’ll forget what it looked like by the time I’m in my eighties. Disgusting doesn’t come close to the reality.
“They’re saying you’ve been kidnapped.” I looked at the grainy picture on the TV. They were showing my ID picture from the county. It wasn’t a great picture.
“Too bad they didn’t decide that I died in the explosion at the house.” My fingers were shaking as I typed my passwords into my email. I was so mad. I had to retype my password four times.
“I’m sorry, Rachel.” Sylar flicked the TV off, and walked over to sit on the bed next to me. Being so close to him scared me because it felt like where I belonged. I was so fucked up. He reached over and brushed some of my hair out of my face. “I just wanted to find out where I came from. Are you okay?”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “The serial killer is worried about me.”
“The serial killer is worried about his sister who just killed five guys who were trying to hurt me.” His eyes locked with mine. I dug my fingers into the bedspread fighting the pull of his personality on mine. “Your father wants me gone.”
“He’s just scared. Sometimes I get lost when I’m around people.” Looking down at my lap, my hair covered my face. “I pick up on their emotions so much that I lose track of my own. He’s afraid that I’m going to turn into you. It’s funny since he didn’t know what I was capable of. But then neither did I.”
“You’re feeling guilty?” His long fingered hands covered mine. When he touched me the rest of the world faded away. Was it like this before we were born and taken from each other?
“No, they would have killed you…us all. Gabriel…Sylar, sometimes I’m not sure that I have feelings of my own at all. I think I’m just a sponge soaking it all up. Just a mirror reflecting what other people feel.” I tried to get up, I needed to pace, but he wouldn’t let go of my hands. “I’m so fucked up.”
“It runs in the family. I thought it would be different for you since you had him your whole life. He seems all right. He didn’t leave you.”
“No, but I wish he had. He wasn’t strong enough to leave mom. He didn’t love her. He was afraid of her.” I swallowed, trying to get my mouth to work. “Now he’s afraid of me. He’s never been afraid of me before.”
“Do you think he’ll be back, Rachel?” He finally let go of my hands, so I could walk to the filthy window to look out on the dark parking lot.
“I don’t know. If I was him, I’d turn us in and save myself.”
“No you wouldn’t.” He paced over to stand behind me, his hands on my shoulders. “We could go without them.”
“I don’t have any money left, Gabriel. Do you have any? I was serious when I joked about us robbing banks.”
“We don’t need your money, Rachel.” He reached past me and took one of the blades from the cheap blinds in between his fingers. I watched as the cheap aluminum shimmered and turned to gold. “I’ve got the Midas touch.”
“Holy shit.” I ran my fingers over the thin slice of gold. “Is this how you keep going?”
“It helps. I haven’t always been able to do it. But it sure beats washing dishes to pay for my food. I don’t mind killing, but I don’t like being a thief.”
