Sylar - Gabriel Gray

Character: Sylar/Peter
Genre: slash
Author: thewatchmaker
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 1050
Rating: PG
Prompts:
After a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing, after all, as wanting. It is not logical, but it is often true. vol3.week28 for scifi_muses
7. Stairway to Heaven for 30_ballads 3/30
054. How wide the world is. for 100_fairytales 50/100
12. Autophobia; Fear of Being Alone for 13_fears 6/13
Notes: A bit of the madness from Sylar's POV before Peter arrived inside of the Wall. For empath_peter with great love and affection as always.

( The piper's calling you to join him  )

Character: Sylar/Peter
Genre: slash
Author: thewatchmaker
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 444
Rating: R language and blood
Prompts: 01. Hemophobia; Fear of Blood {it’s just a little blood} for 13_fears 1/13
098. No time for sickness. for 100_fairytales 44/100
Claudia: Quit talking like some silly simpering schoolgirl. You're a military woman, born, bred, and trained and you're too much of a scrapper to give up like this without a fight! for scifi_muses vol3.week24
Notes: Set during the Wall

“I can’t look,” Peter said with a squeak as he turned his head to the side. His dark hair was plastered against his forehead, and he was breathing hard like he’d run a marathon. I could see the pain in his dark eyes, and I hated it. “Just do it, OK.”

I wanted to roll my eyes. Wanted to give him shit about being a coward, and how he should suck it up like a man instead of whining like a little boy. But when he looked at me with so much trust I didn’t know what to do. I’d seen that look before, and it wasn’t for me. Those eyes were for Nathan. That was who he wanted to take care of him. It wasn’t the serial killer who murdered his brother.

“I don’t want to do this, Peter.” There was so much blood running down his leg, soaking the fabric of his jeans. The broken bottle had sliced right through them and his leg when he’d fallen. Guilt filled my gut when I thought about him getting hurt, about his blood on my hands. It was my fault. I’d been the one to start the fight that ended in us trying to tear each other apart on the floor of the convenience store. My fault that he’d crashed into a display of vodka that had shattered on impact.

“Well you have to. I can’t fucking stitch up the back of my own leg now can I?” He reached over and grabbed a fist full of my hair and pulled. It hurt when he pulled my hair, and for a little payback I poured more of the cheap booze on the cut. Peter hissed like a snake at the sudden burning pain. “I told you how to do it, asshole. Just thread the damn needle and start sewing.”

“I hope it leaves a huge scar,” I said, lying through my teeth as I bit into my lip. The sight of blood was making me sick, and that wasn’t normal for me at all. For the first time since I split Brian Davis’ head open, I didn’t want to lick the blood off of my fingers. I hated the sight of it. I was so afraid that he’d get an infection and die, leaving me alone once more.

“Yeah so do I. Chicks dig scars, Sylar.” He reached for my head again, and I jerked away, afraid that he was going to pull my hair or hit me. He let out a heavy sigh, and patted me on the shoulder instead. “I know you can do this. Don’t be afraid of a little blood.”

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