Sylar - Gabriel Gray

Wind blew another shower of dead leaves down on me as I walked between the graves. The rusty gate squeaked as the wind buffeted it behind me. It was a miserable day, and I didn’t want to be here. I prayed for a storm but that prayer hadn’t been answered. My prayers never are.

Mom looked up at me, squeezing my arm tight, leading me to the blackened angel statue that watched over the grave. “You’ve late, Gabe. Would you have let the rain keep you away?”

“No mom. It was time for me to come see you. I’m sorry.”

“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

Samsom’s files had gotten me nowhere. They listed me, but they didn’t list my mother. I had to find out who she’d been.

With a flick of my finger I unlocked the filing cabinets along the wall. They popped one at a time, sounding like firecrackers in the empty records room. I listened, reaching out to see if anyone had noticed me. Empathy was good for more than learning abilities. I could use it to feel people too.

I started at the end of the alphabet, digging through the musty, yellowing papers searching for some record with my mother’s name.

Drabble Master List

“It’s no wonder you never got ahead, Mulder. You’re so easily manipulated. There should be skeins of puppet strings hanging behind you when you walk, like the chains on Marley’s ghost. Seriously how many people were yanking your chain when you were with the FBI?”

I lean against the window of my cell. I’ll find out what buttons to push on him eventually. Figuring out how things work and what pisses people off is my specialty.

“I’m surprised someone like Scully put up with your shit for so long. She sure as hell deserved better than you. Someone like me.”

Drabble Master List

I stretched across Gabriel’s body, adjusting the cuffs and making sure his arms where held tight. He almost growled when my leather clad thigh brushed against his naked skin. With a smile I traced my hand down his chest, applying just enough telekinesis to leave four long scratches that quickly filled with blood before healing. Dipping my face down I lapped first one line and then the other before kissing him hard.

“Not sure if I want your legs free or not…” I said with a smirk as I licked his blood off my lips. “What do you think, brother?”

Drabble Master List

She was nagging at me. Making me see red. It’s all about her, and one day I suppose I’ll realize that. Until then I’ll have to suffer through another blonde tirade.

“What did I do this time?”

“If you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you, Sylar.” She rolled over in the bed, turning her back on me.

I don’t like being ignored. Being nagged at is better. So I picked up one of her expensive high heels from the floor. She never puts her shit away. I lost count of how many times I hit her with it.

Master Drabble List

Characters: Sylar
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: G
Word Count: 308
Prompt: 25/100 #20 Colorless 100heroesfics
How did we get so mean?
How do we just move on?
How do you feel in the morning when it comes and every thing's undone? -- Mean scifi_muses
Notes: This was the start of a role play with eden_sarah_m that you can read here. In the cell at Primatech after Homecoming.

Everything hurts. My mouth tastes like the inside of a cat box, a very dirty cat box. There are so many drugs flowing through my veins that I can barely remember how I got here. I’m in a cage, on display, every few minutes one of them comes back to poke and prod at me.

“Blood sample, Chekov, skin sample, Chekov… if this keeps up, I’m going to run out of samples…” I fall into hysterical laughter as I replay the classic Star Trek episode in my head. The Deadly Years was a favorite of mine.

They pull another trio of blood filled vials from my arm. They even cut off my hair. I don’t know what they wanted with it, other than to make it easier to shove that thing into my skull. “Leave me alone…”

I want to die. I want to kill.

Eyes. There are eyes on me. I look through the heavy reinforced glass of the window and I see her, the skinny little bitch that lived next door to Chandra Suresh. She’s the reason I’m here. That tasty little ability of hers that put me to sleep like a rabid dog, and I can’t wait to make mine.

I can’t do anything though. Not yet. The drugs and the torture have made it impossible to focus. Without focus I’m just like everyone else a nobody in a box. The cold of the concrete floor is creeping into my bones; they haven’t given me a blanket. My feet are bare, I should be surprised I have scrubs on.

“What do you want?” I look up at her from the spot on the floor. I’m too weak to roll over let alone sit up. “Come to see if the monkey’s going to fling his shit on the walls? I don’t even know your name.”

Character: Sylar (5 Years Gone), Malcolm Reynolds and River Tam
Word Count: 347
Rating: G
Prompt: I was challenged to do a Mal and Sylar fic
Notes: for sinemoras

He tilted his head to the side in an almost insect manner. The girl was broken. When his dark eyes locked with River Tam’s he could see so many things, and Sylar had no doubt that she was looking back into the pits of his 500 plus year old soul. If she wasn’t already crazy, he was certain that her poking around in his head would have driven her over the edge.

“Leave her alone!” The reinforced cell door of the ship’s brig vibrated as the man inside threw himself against it “Get your gorram Alliance hands off of her!”

“Mr. Reynolds.” The tall lanky operative turned from River’s eyes to look at the scruffy man in the browncoat. “I’m afraid you’re in no position to make demands on me or anyone else on this ship. You will be taken to Londinium where they will attempt to rehabilitate you.”

Sylar folded his hands behind his back. The Alliance had given him a home after five centuries of being shunned and examined by one scientist after another. When he’d finally been allowed to wake up from his cyber induced cryo sleep, he’d worked his way into their ranks becoming the best Operative they’d ever seen.

“You ain’t got no right to take her. She’s free. We’re all free. You got a problem with me, you deal with me. You leave River out of it.” Malcolm Reynolds’ eyes were filled with such a searing rage that Sylar actually took a step back from the cage. “Take me. Take Serenity. You just let that girl go.”

“That girl is property of the Alliance,” Sylar said calmly as if he was talking to a child. “She’s broken. We didn’t get to finish our work. But now we’ll do what needs to be done to make her better. She is no longer your concern. I do hope you enjoy your trip, Mr. Reynolds. I do have to thank you though. You did make it an extremely interesting hunt for me, and it’s been a very long time since I’ve found anything interesting.”

Title: Hickory, Dickory, Dock
Author: thewatchmaker
Rating: R
Wordcount: 365
Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to NBC and Tim Kring. I just like to write serial killer fic.
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Eden
Prompt: 47 - Home heroes50 6/50

I wanted to pull the big Caddy into the parking space behind the shop where my father used to park his car, but some asshole had moved into the space. We’d sold my father’s car after he died, since it was just easier to use public transportation. It was certainly easier than trying to find parking near my mother’s apartment.

“That is my parking space,” I snarled. My fingers gripped the wheel tight enough that I could hear the plastic creak. “It comes with MY shop.”

The car that was sprawled in it was new. I’d never seen it before. Over the years I’d gotten lazy about chasing people out of the space, but I wasn’t the same forgiving person I’d been then. Gabriel might let it slide, but Sylar wouldn’t.

And I was tired. We’d been driving for days on end since leaving New Orleans. I needed to find Mohinder Suresh. He’d know where I should strike next. Eden had told me all about him following in his father’s work, and how the Company wanted him watched.

Concentrating on the squatting vehicle, I raised it into the air. It hovered in a place a few moments while I decided what to do with it. I really wanted to smash it to scrap, but didn’t want to show my hand. Instead I just moved it out of the parking space and into the alley. “I’ll call the city from inside; they can come tow it for blocking the alley.”

I didn’t have my keys anymore. They’d been lost in Texas, so I used my power to work the lock on the door. It was simple really. Locks were just puzzles, and I had an invisible key at my disposal.

The shop was filled with the sound of clocks ticking. Grandfather clocks, cuckoo clocks and dozens of watches sounding the hours, minutes and seconds, as we entered I had come home at last. “I have an apartment upstairs. It was used for storage when my dad first opened the shop, but when I was old enough to leave home he let me convert it. Sorry about the dust. I haven’t been here for a long time.”

Title: Thanks Cinderella
Author: thewatchmaker
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 198
Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to NBC and Tim Kring. I just like to write serial killer fic.
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Eden
Prompt: 12 - Father - Writer's Choice heroes50 3/50
Summary: Eden and Sylar are on a road trip trying to get to NYC, so he can talk to Mohinder. Would take place after Homecoming if Eden hadn't died, but had helped Sylar escape.

"I killed my stepmother. She kept me like a slave. I had to cook and clean, and she never let me leave the house." Eden snuggled against me as if trying to warm her soul. "She ran my father off, and then abused me for it. I didn't mean to kill her, but I did."

"So we're just a couple of characters from old fairy tales then?" I let myself relax as Eden settled against me. She fit against my side like she was made to be there. It was nice to feel the warmth of her through my clothes. "You were Cinderella, and I was...hell I don't know. Who had a crazy over protective mother and a dead father? Shit does that make me Rapunzel?"

I ran my fingers over my nearly shaved scalp. "I don't think anyone's climbing up my hair to set me free. But then that's what you did isn't it? You set me free from the tower."

"I think that makes you the hero in both stories." Turning a bit to the side, so I could get more comfortable with Eden. I let my lips brush her forehead. "Thanks for rescuing me, Cinderella."