2010-07-11 13:05![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thewatchmaker
thewatchmakerCharacter: Sylar, Future Peter and Noah Gray
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 1075
Rating: R - violence and swearing
Prompt: Picture for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
scifi_muses
Notes: Set before I am Become Death. This is how Sylar finds Noah. Sorry in my version he is not Noah's father by blood.
“I could use some help here, Sylar!” I turned just in time to stop the wall from falling down on top of Peter. He was covered in blood and dirt. His clothes torn and for a moment I thought he’d lost a boot. He was a fucking mess, and I know I didn’t look any better.
“I am helping you, Peter!” I gritted my teeth while I concentrated to hold the bricks together long enough for him to get out of the way. But I knew Peter. He’d spend the time he should use getting to safety moving the other people out of the way. I didn’t care about them. I cared about him, but Peter was always the hero. I wasn’t. I was a selfish asshole there for one reason only, because he’d asked for my help.
Peter grabbed them two at a time, porting them away. The smell of smoke was chocking me, and the scent of blood was making it hard to think. There were so many specials in the crowd, natural and created by Nathan’s fucking serum that my hunger was screaming at me to rend and tear.
But there I was, the biggest predator of all helping the shepherd get the prey to safety. It was no wonder I was losing my mind. There was another wave of force on the other side of the wall, as yet another special used kinetic energy to bring the building down.
“Peter! Hurry the fuck up! I can’t hold this forever!”
“I’m trying!”
He was reaching for another couple when a blast of energy hit me in the side. The burning pain made me lose control of my telekinesis, and the wall crumbled into several tons of rubble.
The jolt of electricity arched through me, singeing my hair and sending smoke from my fingernails. I screamed, knocked from my perch and tumbled to the ground while my regeneration tried to heal me before I landed. My nerves were too fried for me to use any abilities to slow my fall.
But that didn’t matter. Peter had been buried alive. I forgot how to breathe. It was stupid. He’d be all right. He had regeneration same as I did. I’d have to dig him out if he had his skull crushed, but he’d live. Anyone else under the mass of bricks was gone though. He’d beat himself up for it for years to come. The idiot.
I landed badly, breaking more bones that had to knit before I could help Peter. I screamed as the healing went to work on me, it was so much worse than the injuries had been to begin with.
As soon as I was able, I flew at the special with the electrical control. With a snarl I caught him around the waist before he could get off another blast, driving him into the ground, leaving a smear of his flesh and blood on the pavement. A quick twist of his neck, and he’d never hurt anyone again. The hunger screamed that I’d wasted a kill, but I didn’t have time for the buffet.
Another wave of kinetic energy hit me, sending me crashing into the side of a van hard enough to dent it and shatter bones. I spat out a mouthful of blood and sneered at the special. Her eyes widened as she registered that I wasn’t dead, and that with each step I was moving better. She raised her hands to attack me again, but I used my telekinesis first and ripped her feet out from under her. She fell back hard, the back of her head cracking on the pavement.
Standing over her prone body, watching the blood seeping onto the road, I couldn’t fight the need to have what she did. I hunkered down and quickly cut open her skull. Peter would be disappointed in me, but the idiot was trapped under several tons of bricks right now. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Besides he’d forgive me. He always does.
Her power added a nice boost to my telekinesis, making it easier to lift some of the heavier debris off of Peter. He had to be dead. If he was alive, he’d have fought his own way out by now. It’d been five minutes, more than enough time for him to get free either by his strength of porting out.
I found him after another couple of minutes of digging. When I got close, the bricks were coated in blood, and I knew that it wasn’t all Peter’s. He wasn’t alone when I lost my hold on it. I shoved that little flare of guilt away with the rest, in an endlessly deep black hole somewhere in my mind where I’d never look at it again. Guilt belongs to Gabriel. It doesn’t have a place in my life. Sylar doesn’t do guilt. Sylar didn’t do love either, yet here I am digging out the one person I’d do anything for because I love the idiot.
The crushing injuries made it hard to tell where one corpse began and another ended. It was like digging through human stew. Yeah no food for me this week either. Finally I reached a pocket where there was a desk or table that was on its side, and I could see Peter’s coat. His head was cracked open, and a large wedge of masonry was keeping him from healing. Crouching over him, I yanked it out. He was dead. I didn’t need to be careful about hurting him.
That’s when I heard the sniffles from under the desk. Two big eyes looked at me, tears running down a dirt covered face. “Daddy?”
“I’m not your daddy, kid.” But I still held my hand out to pull him free. He was wobbly on his feet, about two years old, not that I was any judge of age in children. If they’re walking and not going to school, I have no idea how old they are. He was shaking when he crawled into my arms, wrapping his arms around my neck. He was so warm, and I found myself hugging him back.
“Sylar?” I turned to see Peter struggling back to his feet after coming back to life. “Oh good. I couldn’t get him to come out from under the desk. Guess he likes you better.”
“What’s your name?” I asked the kid.
“Noah,” he said, sniffling. “I’m Noah.”
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 1075
Rating: R - violence and swearing
Prompt: Picture for
scifi_musesNotes: Set before I am Become Death. This is how Sylar finds Noah. Sorry in my version he is not Noah's father by blood.
“I could use some help here, Sylar!” I turned just in time to stop the wall from falling down on top of Peter. He was covered in blood and dirt. His clothes torn and for a moment I thought he’d lost a boot. He was a fucking mess, and I know I didn’t look any better.
“I am helping you, Peter!” I gritted my teeth while I concentrated to hold the bricks together long enough for him to get out of the way. But I knew Peter. He’d spend the time he should use getting to safety moving the other people out of the way. I didn’t care about them. I cared about him, but Peter was always the hero. I wasn’t. I was a selfish asshole there for one reason only, because he’d asked for my help.
Peter grabbed them two at a time, porting them away. The smell of smoke was chocking me, and the scent of blood was making it hard to think. There were so many specials in the crowd, natural and created by Nathan’s fucking serum that my hunger was screaming at me to rend and tear.
But there I was, the biggest predator of all helping the shepherd get the prey to safety. It was no wonder I was losing my mind. There was another wave of force on the other side of the wall, as yet another special used kinetic energy to bring the building down.
“Peter! Hurry the fuck up! I can’t hold this forever!”
“I’m trying!”
He was reaching for another couple when a blast of energy hit me in the side. The burning pain made me lose control of my telekinesis, and the wall crumbled into several tons of rubble.
The jolt of electricity arched through me, singeing my hair and sending smoke from my fingernails. I screamed, knocked from my perch and tumbled to the ground while my regeneration tried to heal me before I landed. My nerves were too fried for me to use any abilities to slow my fall.
But that didn’t matter. Peter had been buried alive. I forgot how to breathe. It was stupid. He’d be all right. He had regeneration same as I did. I’d have to dig him out if he had his skull crushed, but he’d live. Anyone else under the mass of bricks was gone though. He’d beat himself up for it for years to come. The idiot.
I landed badly, breaking more bones that had to knit before I could help Peter. I screamed as the healing went to work on me, it was so much worse than the injuries had been to begin with.
As soon as I was able, I flew at the special with the electrical control. With a snarl I caught him around the waist before he could get off another blast, driving him into the ground, leaving a smear of his flesh and blood on the pavement. A quick twist of his neck, and he’d never hurt anyone again. The hunger screamed that I’d wasted a kill, but I didn’t have time for the buffet.
Another wave of kinetic energy hit me, sending me crashing into the side of a van hard enough to dent it and shatter bones. I spat out a mouthful of blood and sneered at the special. Her eyes widened as she registered that I wasn’t dead, and that with each step I was moving better. She raised her hands to attack me again, but I used my telekinesis first and ripped her feet out from under her. She fell back hard, the back of her head cracking on the pavement.
Standing over her prone body, watching the blood seeping onto the road, I couldn’t fight the need to have what she did. I hunkered down and quickly cut open her skull. Peter would be disappointed in me, but the idiot was trapped under several tons of bricks right now. What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Besides he’d forgive me. He always does.
Her power added a nice boost to my telekinesis, making it easier to lift some of the heavier debris off of Peter. He had to be dead. If he was alive, he’d have fought his own way out by now. It’d been five minutes, more than enough time for him to get free either by his strength of porting out.
I found him after another couple of minutes of digging. When I got close, the bricks were coated in blood, and I knew that it wasn’t all Peter’s. He wasn’t alone when I lost my hold on it. I shoved that little flare of guilt away with the rest, in an endlessly deep black hole somewhere in my mind where I’d never look at it again. Guilt belongs to Gabriel. It doesn’t have a place in my life. Sylar doesn’t do guilt. Sylar didn’t do love either, yet here I am digging out the one person I’d do anything for because I love the idiot.
The crushing injuries made it hard to tell where one corpse began and another ended. It was like digging through human stew. Yeah no food for me this week either. Finally I reached a pocket where there was a desk or table that was on its side, and I could see Peter’s coat. His head was cracked open, and a large wedge of masonry was keeping him from healing. Crouching over him, I yanked it out. He was dead. I didn’t need to be careful about hurting him.
That’s when I heard the sniffles from under the desk. Two big eyes looked at me, tears running down a dirt covered face. “Daddy?”
“I’m not your daddy, kid.” But I still held my hand out to pull him free. He was wobbly on his feet, about two years old, not that I was any judge of age in children. If they’re walking and not going to school, I have no idea how old they are. He was shaking when he crawled into my arms, wrapping his arms around my neck. He was so warm, and I found myself hugging him back.
“Sylar?” I turned to see Peter struggling back to his feet after coming back to life. “Oh good. I couldn’t get him to come out from under the desk. Guess he likes you better.”
“What’s your name?” I asked the kid.
“Noah,” he said, sniffling. “I’m Noah.”
