2010-06-06 11:11![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thewatchmaker
thewatchmakerCharacter: Sylar
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 403
Rating: PG
Prompt: Charles Henry "Chaz" Gracen: The day he gets hit by a bus, I believe in God again. from Profit for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
scifi_muses
Notes: What happened while Peter and Nathan were blowing up over New York.
Survive, one word echoed over and over again through my mind. I had to block the pain. Had to stop the blood. Had to get away before Peter blew up. I didn’t get Claire. I didn’t want to be one of the millions he was about to vaporize. Underground, I needed to get underground. The manhole cover wasn’t far from where I’d fallen, where I’d watched the last six months of my life flicker before my eyes, before I sent Hiro flying across Kirby Plaza.
Nathan Petrelli was here now. I could hear him talking to Peter, but I couldn’t focus on the words. I had to survive. I had to escape. My telekinesis was my lifeline now. It was holding my wound shut, keeping me from bleeding out. I used it to help me slide the cover free to get below ground where I might be free from the blast. I didn’t have much time. I knew that. I could feel the power crackling through idiot Peter’s body. No control. He had no control.
I could have stopped him if I wasn’t trying to stay alive. I wasn’t the fucking bomb. He was. I came to stop him, not that any of the so called heroes would care of listen. I’m the bad guy. Well dumb fucks, I’m also the only person who could have stopped Peter. Good luck with those sunburns. I hear the peeling from radiation burns itches really, really bad. Stupid shits!
Didn’t have the time to try to get my legs down the hole first, so I grabbed at the ladder and pulled myself over the lip into the mouth of hell. I couldn’t keep my grip for long as gravity took over, nearly yanking my arm out of its socket. I screamed in the dank darkness, and it echoed through the tunnel.
When I landed I was flat on my back, staring up into the sky. Pain had replaced survival as the wind was knocked out of me. Fetid water seeped into my clothes, and I heard the rats scurrying to get away from me.
Then I saw the flash as the night became day. “Peter Petrelli.”
The current caught me, taking my body away from where I’d fallen. I couldn’t fight it. All I could try to do was keep myself from bleeding to death as I was washed away with the rest of the sewage.
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 403
Rating: PG
Prompt: Charles Henry "Chaz" Gracen: The day he gets hit by a bus, I believe in God again. from Profit for
scifi_musesNotes: What happened while Peter and Nathan were blowing up over New York.
Survive, one word echoed over and over again through my mind. I had to block the pain. Had to stop the blood. Had to get away before Peter blew up. I didn’t get Claire. I didn’t want to be one of the millions he was about to vaporize. Underground, I needed to get underground. The manhole cover wasn’t far from where I’d fallen, where I’d watched the last six months of my life flicker before my eyes, before I sent Hiro flying across Kirby Plaza.
Nathan Petrelli was here now. I could hear him talking to Peter, but I couldn’t focus on the words. I had to survive. I had to escape. My telekinesis was my lifeline now. It was holding my wound shut, keeping me from bleeding out. I used it to help me slide the cover free to get below ground where I might be free from the blast. I didn’t have much time. I knew that. I could feel the power crackling through idiot Peter’s body. No control. He had no control.
I could have stopped him if I wasn’t trying to stay alive. I wasn’t the fucking bomb. He was. I came to stop him, not that any of the so called heroes would care of listen. I’m the bad guy. Well dumb fucks, I’m also the only person who could have stopped Peter. Good luck with those sunburns. I hear the peeling from radiation burns itches really, really bad. Stupid shits!
Didn’t have the time to try to get my legs down the hole first, so I grabbed at the ladder and pulled myself over the lip into the mouth of hell. I couldn’t keep my grip for long as gravity took over, nearly yanking my arm out of its socket. I screamed in the dank darkness, and it echoed through the tunnel.
When I landed I was flat on my back, staring up into the sky. Pain had replaced survival as the wind was knocked out of me. Fetid water seeped into my clothes, and I heard the rats scurrying to get away from me.
Then I saw the flash as the night became day. “Peter Petrelli.”
The current caught me, taking my body away from where I’d fallen. I couldn’t fight it. All I could try to do was keep myself from bleeding to death as I was washed away with the rest of the sewage.
