Sylar - Gabriel Gray

Character: Gabriel, Martin, Virginia and Samson Gray
Author: thewatchmaker
Fandom: Heroes - long before the series
Word count: 670
Rating: R - violence
Prompts:
076. The forgotten word. for 100_fairytales 62/100
Ferris: Only the meek get pinched. The bold survive. scifi_muses vol3.week30
Notes: Expanding on Sylar's memories of the day Samson sold him to Martin.

Mommy?

Thanks for reading. Comments to the entry on Gabriel's LJ, please.

Character: Kid Gabriel and Martin Gray
Author: thewatchmaker
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 669
Rating: G
Prompts: On the Third Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me – Three Books. for heroes_sylar

( The lights were blinking red and green... )

The Twelve Days of Sylar

Character: Gabriel
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 460
Rating: G
Notes: Gabriel's 12 in this ficlet. It is set in 1989. I was challenged to write something that wasn't depressed for a change. Woot!
Prompt for scifi_muses
Kirk: You know, traveling through time, changing history... that's cheating.
Spock: A trick I learned from an old friend.

( It'll Be an Adventure )

(Edit and IRL funny - I was almost late to Christmas dinner because Star Trek IV opened a day early. I told my mom I'd be late because some people REALLY important to me just got into town. She still doesn't know why I needed those 2 extra hours or who those people were.)

Characters: Gabriel, Virginia
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: G
Word Count: 821
Prompt: 14/100 #88 School 100heroesfics Blackadder: The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own satanic HERD. scifi_muses
Notes: Gabriel in the hell known as high school

The AV lab was too cold. I was surprised I couldn’t see my breath as I wove my way through the broken film strip projectors, overhead display tables and movie projectors. A lot of this stuff wasn’t used anymore. Other than the hideous masterpieces like Mechanized Death, most of the movies we watched were on video tape now or beta. Those machines broke too, but the nuns didn’t let the students fix those. No they sat on their rolling tables like kings among their fallen soldiers.

I felt bad for the old machines. Their insides unbalanced, wires frayed and gears worn through until they couldn’t function properly anymore. A lot of them were here in this graveyard to be scavenged for parts. This was my favorite place in the entire school. I felt at home here and no one bothered me while I tinkered.

One of the projectors was making a horrible clicking sound. I heard it during Sister Louise’s home economics class when they had me come in and run the movie for her. I wanted to fix it then. It made the skin on my spine tighten to hear those gears grinding together wrong. But she said it was good enough, that they could still watch it fine. It didn’t bother her that the sound was off by half a second. It set my teeth on edge.

So now I was looking through the piles and boxes of scavenged parts looking for a replacement for one of those tattered old gears. It needed a new set of belts too, but I wasn’t sure I’d find any of those in my treasure.

A loud crash yanked my attention from my search. I hissed as one of the gears sliced my hand open. One of the girls had stumbled into the room. Her hair was a mess, her blouse gaping open and her face was covered in tears. Her name was Mindy. She was a first class bitch, and she’d never once been nice to me like the rest of the popular girls.

“You have to hide me!” she cried out, rushing up to me and clutching my sweater. “He’s chasing me.”

“Who’s chasing you? Wait here.” I tried to pry her hands free, the blood from my hand soaking into her white blouse. I could see her bra, and I felt myself blush. I climbed through the projectors and went to close the door leaving a smear of blood there too. My heart was hammering. She was afraid.

As soon as the door was closed it was hit from behind. A loud crash like a freight train had slammed into it. I jumped back, tripping over a box of parts and landed on my ass on the floor. I scurried back, hoping to hell that the lock would hold. It was one the best locks in the school, meant to protect all the equipment.

“I don’t know. He grabbed me. I ran.”

The door shuddered in its frame as it was hit again. I was helpless I couldn’t do a thing to save her or me. What was I going to do, stab whoever it was with my screwdriver? Think, Gabriel, you have to think, but I was too scared.

“Save me, Gabriel! Save me!” Then Mindy started giggling. It was an ugly little laugh. The same one I heard whenever one of the football players shoved me against the wall by ‘accident’, or I got tripped in the lunchroom. She was still laughing when she opened the door and slipped into her boyfriend’s arms. Now he was laughing too, so was the rest of the team.

“I hate you!” I screamed at their backs as they left me there to bleed. “You are all going to be sorry.”

***
“Hold still, Gabriel.” My mother held my hand under the kitchen sink. I watched as she poured dishwashing liquid over my cut and fought back a yelp at the water’s sting. She forced the cut open, running the water and soap into it until it stopped bleeding. “This is going to scar. Why didn’t you go to the nurse at school? I should take you to the doctor.”

“I don’t want to go to the doctor, mom. Please just put a Band-Aid on it and let it go.”

She was clucking like a chicken as she wrapped a dish towel around my hand. “Who did this to you, Gabriel?”

“It was an accident. No one did it to me.” No one that I wanted my mother ranting at like she did when I was younger and someone hurt me. Always the lioness, my mother, no matter how weak that made me look to the hyenas as school. “I tripped in the AV room.”

***
They snickered when I came to school the next morning. I could feel all of their eyes watching me. I hated each and everyone of them.

Characters: Sylar
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG
Word Count: 672
Prompt: Toys in the Attic scifi_muses
Notes: Kid Gabe

Toys in the Attic

The house smelled wrong. It smelled like puke and lilac. It smelled like my grandmother. I hated coming to her house, but it was better than going to the hospital where I could see the machines making her breathe and keep her heart beating. Mom didn’t think I understood what was going on. Sometimes it makes me mad that she thinks I’m so special and so smart one minute but a complete retard the next. Either I’m one or the other. Sometimes I wish I was retarded, so she’d stop pushing me so hard.

“Gabriel!” her strident voice broke the eerie silence. “Are you coming or not?”

“Not,” I whispered too low for anyone to hear. I didn’t want to go up there not into the attic. Of all the places in grandmother’s house I hated, the attic was the worst. There were ghosts up there, and I knew they wanted to steal my soul.

“Gabriel!”

“Coming.” I swallowed hard and gripped the banister as tightly as I could. My feet felt like they were made of bricks as I trudged up the three flights of stairs. My heart was pounding as I reached for the railing that ran up through the narrow steps behind the closet door.

“I need your help with this, Gabriel,” my mother said. She was shoving a box of Christmas ornaments into a steamer trunk. The sunlight was filled with fairies from all the dust she was stirring up. It should have been pretty, but it made me want to sneeze. “We need to get these out of here tonight.”

“Before Aunt Esme gets here from Boston?” I asked. From the dirty look she cast me; I should have kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t supposed to know that we were clearing out all we could from the house before my mother had to share it with her sister.

“I’m taking this box down now. Your father will have to help me with the trunk.” She pointed at a crate of old plates. “Put those in that toy chest.”

“But what about the toys?” I asked, trying to keep her from leaving me alone up there.

“Leave them. Esme can have them. Most of them are hers or your Uncle Matthew’s anyway.” The door that lead up to the attic slammed behind her. I didn’t know if she closed it, if it was a draft or if the ghosts did it.

“Suck it up, Gabe. You big dork.” Wiping my hands on my pants, I crept over to the toy chest. Bright red cotton candy hair from a clown doll with the white eyes of a dead fish stared up at me. “You first. Time for you to go away.”

With my eyes tightly closed, because the monsters can’t hurt you if they can’t see you, I grabbed the clown and threw it across the attic. It landed with a clatter in the far corner with a squeak and a grinding sound as it tried to laugh, the machine inside of it too broken work.

The clown doll was the worst of all. I knew the rest of the toys wouldn’t hurt me. Really I did. I pulled the rest of them out in a pile and shoved them out of the way. But I wanted out of there. The dust was making my eyes water, and every now and then the clown would wheeze and chuckle from the corner.

I wanted out of there. It had been too long since my mom left me alone. I knew she’d be mad if I didn’t get the dishes into the chest. I had half a dozen dinner plates tucked under my chin.

“Hey it’s Gabey the Baby!” My cousin Tony shouted as he grabbed my sides, scaring me out of my skin. The plates flew out of my hands and landed with a crash. “You’re going to be in so much trouble. Auntie Virginia is going to lock you up in here for the rest of your life.”