2009-05-24 09:50![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thewatchmaker
thewatchmakerAnd then there were three…
I’ve been examining my mental state. That shouldn’t be a surprise, I analyze every thing else. I changed radically since waking up in my shop back in Queens a few weeks ago. I don’t quite remember how I got there. My clothes were soaked in blood. The kind of blood that only comes from a head wound. The back of my coat was soaked with it, and I was nearly stuck to the floor. I watched as the tall man stepped through a vortex leaving me a warning not to go back to Chicago. I didn’t remember being in fucking Chicago. Not since we took a trip there when I was in high school.
The man’s name was Harry Dresden. I’d been after him for his power. But the power he used on me had changed me. I was Gabriel when I came back to life in the shop. I remember watching him stumble about trying to get his bearings again. Gabriel was in control for quite awhile until the blackmail started. He couldn’t handle it, so I stepped forward.
That’s when I started to suspect that Gabriel isn’t the one who was changed by Harry Dresden touching our soul. I was the one who’d been ripped in two. I’d been splintered like Gabriel had been by my birth from his guilt and greed. He created me to handle his lust for power and his need to be more. The hunger for power consumed me, I’d bounce from being in control to being a soulless monster, but now I was different.
I’m still Sylar. But I’m not insane. I’m not hungering to tear into someone’s head to steal their powers. I still feel the want, but it’s no longer a need for me. My mind is crystal clear, I can see things from Gabriel’s past better than before. I’ve always been the one who could see both sides of the coin, while he blacked out most of what I did. But now when I remember my acts of violence they don’t seem to be part of me either.
My theory was confirmed when Claire rejected me. She said she didn’t care that I was Sylar, but she still sent me away. Gabriel came forward when I went to watch the sunset. But he didn’t stay in charge for long. The other filled the void before I could stop him. Rage, hurt, betrayal feeds the hunger like chum attracts sharks. He is the one who went after the bookshop keeper in Brooklyn. He’s the one who fought the Other Claire when she tried to stop him from killing.
Funny how I can think of Gabriel as I, but I cannot think of the Hunger that way. He is an alien thing to me now a part of me I do not want to be integrated with. I feel like Kirk in Turn About Intruder. I don’t want the wolf to be part of me, us, again, but I know someday he’ll need to be.
Sitting in Karrin Murphy’s car, I can see flashes of what I did to her. The Hunger was part of me when I carved my initial in her cheek. It drove me to brutalize this woman if only to make Dresden angry enough to come after me. It disgusts me. The old Sylar would have been proud, but I’m not. Gabriel would try to kill us again if he could see it. I want to ask Murphy what I did when I was here, because I don’t remember. But I’m afraid to ask.
I’ve been examining my mental state. That shouldn’t be a surprise, I analyze every thing else. I changed radically since waking up in my shop back in Queens a few weeks ago. I don’t quite remember how I got there. My clothes were soaked in blood. The kind of blood that only comes from a head wound. The back of my coat was soaked with it, and I was nearly stuck to the floor. I watched as the tall man stepped through a vortex leaving me a warning not to go back to Chicago. I didn’t remember being in fucking Chicago. Not since we took a trip there when I was in high school.
The man’s name was Harry Dresden. I’d been after him for his power. But the power he used on me had changed me. I was Gabriel when I came back to life in the shop. I remember watching him stumble about trying to get his bearings again. Gabriel was in control for quite awhile until the blackmail started. He couldn’t handle it, so I stepped forward.
That’s when I started to suspect that Gabriel isn’t the one who was changed by Harry Dresden touching our soul. I was the one who’d been ripped in two. I’d been splintered like Gabriel had been by my birth from his guilt and greed. He created me to handle his lust for power and his need to be more. The hunger for power consumed me, I’d bounce from being in control to being a soulless monster, but now I was different.
I’m still Sylar. But I’m not insane. I’m not hungering to tear into someone’s head to steal their powers. I still feel the want, but it’s no longer a need for me. My mind is crystal clear, I can see things from Gabriel’s past better than before. I’ve always been the one who could see both sides of the coin, while he blacked out most of what I did. But now when I remember my acts of violence they don’t seem to be part of me either.
My theory was confirmed when Claire rejected me. She said she didn’t care that I was Sylar, but she still sent me away. Gabriel came forward when I went to watch the sunset. But he didn’t stay in charge for long. The other filled the void before I could stop him. Rage, hurt, betrayal feeds the hunger like chum attracts sharks. He is the one who went after the bookshop keeper in Brooklyn. He’s the one who fought the Other Claire when she tried to stop him from killing.
Funny how I can think of Gabriel as I, but I cannot think of the Hunger that way. He is an alien thing to me now a part of me I do not want to be integrated with. I feel like Kirk in Turn About Intruder. I don’t want the wolf to be part of me, us, again, but I know someday he’ll need to be.
Sitting in Karrin Murphy’s car, I can see flashes of what I did to her. The Hunger was part of me when I carved my initial in her cheek. It drove me to brutalize this woman if only to make Dresden angry enough to come after me. It disgusts me. The old Sylar would have been proud, but I’m not. Gabriel would try to kill us again if he could see it. I want to ask Murphy what I did when I was here, because I don’t remember. But I’m afraid to ask.
◾ Tags:
