Character: Sylar, Noah, Eden
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 433
Rating: PG
Prompt: Learning to fear men for
100_fairytales Holden: The tortoise lays on its back, its belly baking in the hot sun, beating its legs trying to turn itself over, but it can't. Not without your help. But you're not helping. for
scifi_musesNotes: Missing scene for - Homecoming
It was the buzz of the hair clippers that registered first in my addled brain. I was strapped down on a gurney, too many glaring florescent lights blazed down at me. I couldn’t move an inch, and a quartet of doctors in bright white scrubs surrounded me. My mouth was still filled with the taste of blood and cotton, and my body hurt.
“Take him apart if you have to, but do not let him use his abilities.” I didn’t recognize the man with the horned rim glasses. His blue eyes were filled with steel and ice when he looked at me. It wasn’t the cool, detached gaze the doctors were giving me. This man hated me, and I had no idea why. He wanted me to suffer, and he would enjoy watching.
“We know what we’re doing, Bennet,” One of them said over his shoulder as he shoved a needle into my arm, and I felt the burning cold of something enter my bloodstream. I wanted to ask what it was, but I couldn’t make my mouth work. I couldn’t make anything work, and for the first time since I killed Brian, I was afraid. They were going to cut me up like a fucking frog. “He’s not the first we’ve dealt with.”
“He’s the first like him you’ve handled. This thing is a monster, and if I had my way, we’d be doing an autopsy to understand him not saving his life.” I could taste his hate. Christ what the fuck did I do to this prick?
“His injuries aren’t as bad as they should be,” Another one said, his face hidden behind a surgical mask. “How high did he fall from?”
“High enough that most of the bones in his body should be broken.” That voice I knew. It was her, the little dark haired pixie who made me sleep. I wanted that power, but then I wanted them all.
The hair clippers were shut off, and then I heard the sound of a Dremel drill. I knew the sound well. I had one in the shop for burnishing and cleaning the edges of the pieces I made. It was the same model most dentists used to drill out cavities.
Fear made me cringe. Were these bastards going to drill my teeth like the fucking Marathon Man? Fuck. I tried to move, but barely managed to squirm on the gurney. Someone or something was blocking my power. I was helpless, and I was terrified.
Then they started drilling into the back of my skull, and the world faded to black.
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