Heroes - "Death Will Come With Your Eyes" - Sylar/Maya (ENGLISH)
Title: Death Will Come With Your Eyes
Fandom: Heroes
Author: herm_weasley
Beat-Reader: albion1919 ♥
Characters: Sylar/Gabriel Grey, Maya Herrera
Pairing: Gabriel/Maya (implicit)
Rating: PG-13 (for certain expressions)
Word Count: 1353 (W)
Warnings: One-Shot, Spoilers for S2
Summary: He was staring at the darkness of the night from the open window. The sky was black and plain. No star to intercept that unshaped mass of blackness, no noise to shutter that frustrating silence.
Notes:
- First of all a big thank you to albion1919 that beta-readed the fic for me ♥
- Secondly, the title and the quotes are from Verrà La Morte e Avrà i Tuoi Occhi a poetry collection by the awesome Italian poet Cesare Pavese.
- And, uhm, that's all! Finally, I've translated something :P Any feedback is much appreciated!
Death Will Come With Your Eyes.
For everyone death has a look.
Death will come with your eyes.
It will be like terminating a vice,
as seen in the mirror
a dead face re-emerging,
like listening to closed lips.
We'll go down the abyss in silence.
Cesare Pavese
When he had decided to kill Gabriel, he thought to have done it for good. Everything it took to suffocate that part of him that he found ridiculous, almost disgusting, was staining his hands with blood, smearing them forever. Such a weak part, barely worthy notice.
It couldn't be actually considered.
Things had rapidly changed, without giving him time to realise everything fully.
While Sylar was taking over him, Gabriel was sinking under mountains of corpses that kept amassing endlessly. Scalped heads, whose stink - he thought - was still haunting him.
He had totally forgot about Gabriel. The harmless Gabriel Gray that fixed clocks and used to pay a visit to his mother every Sunday, in the nerve-wrecking wait for someone, someone that would have come knocking on his door, with a big smile on his face and the promise of a unique and special future. Something (or someone) that could drag him out of his grey daily routine.
And it was under that mass of curdled blood and opened skulls, that Gabriel had patiently waited. Unconsciously, he was left there, in silence. It was the sudden acceleration of his heart beat, or the horrible feeling of chocking, the cold sharp pain that foretells a failure to remind Sylar that Gabriel was still right there.
Still.
Where he had always been and from where - he knew - he would have never be able to send him away.
He was staring at the darkness of the night from the open window.
The sky was black and plain. No star to intercept that unshaped mass of blackness, no noise to shutter that frustrating silence.
Because he knew that Gabriel's voice could become even more deafening in the silence.
It wasn’t hard to realise that, in that moment, something wasn't right.
Maya's breath was accompanying his own, in a slow rise and fall, like a lullaby sung in a whisper to a baby who can't sleep.
He told her that he would have slept on the floor. That there wouldn't have been any problem: the only thing he cared about was regaining his powers. No matter how, no matter how many horrible things would be necessary, he just needed to reach his aim. Taking again the most precious things he had in the world, his distinctive mark, the merit badge proudly pinned to his chest.
But after a while, lying on the floor with the annoying smell of carpet and floor cleaner, he stood up. The thought of that upcoming success wasn't enough for a whole night. He was used to spend his nights in silence, half alseep, half awake, lost in his thoughts, in his insanity, meticulously planning the actions of the following day, the way to arrive to this or that person, or to take hold of the ever precious list in the hands of doctor Suresh.
But in that moment, there was Maya's breath melting his thoughts.
And he felt like he was sinning. He felt dirty and awkward.
It was a split second.
Just one stupid instant, before the thirst for power took control once again over any other thing or problem.
A moment, and what he felt holding her by the lake burst out without a reason.
It was like he could actually feel her heart beating again because of the exciting news, when she realised she was able to control that horrible, demonic power with whom God had punished her - punished for something she didn't do. He let her hold him too and he thought it was all so normal, that it actually made sense, at least until he let her go, and that contact was gone once for all.
He realised he had never hugged someone that way but his mother - his mother who was now dead because of a tragic fatality whose fault - sometimes - he felt was desperately his. It didn't take so long for that nice warmth in his chest to turn up again, warmth that seemed to be fed by the light in Maya's eyes, by that smile that stretched her face in that child-like expression that he used to consider extremely silly.
That warmth was Gabriel. Gabriel that was still in there, in his heart filled with hate and incomprehension.
He had been told, once, that hate is nothing but frozen love.
But he had never - never - dreaded of something that could arrive to melt that ice, to help break him free, like he had never been before.
Sylar was taking advantage of Maya. It wasn't the need to sin that was animating him, but only pure selfishness. She was just an instrument, the instrument he needed to fix himself.
And while he was trying to fix the gears, the pieces, while he was desperately doing anything he could to make that extremely sophisticated device work, he hadn't realised he had done nothing but confuse them, mixing them, assembling them in the wrong order and places.
The tick tack wasn't clear. It wasn't clean.
It was deaf and distort.
He couldn't stand it.
In the middle of the night, the spasmodic desire to feel that warmth again had taken him by surprise, totally unbalancing him.
It took all his will not to approach her, over there on the bed, between the sheets. To hold her tight and desperately hoping to feel that ice melting again... for a stupid split second.
He forced himself to remain still, just allowing his eyes to look at her.
Maya was something he could look at, but not touch.
And it wasn't for the sake of purity or chivalry, but just because he knew that - otherwise - he would be burnt. He was perfectly conscious about the fact that, in the long run, that flame that melts the ice would have probably swallowed him and burnt him alive.
If that happened, Gabriel would have turned up again.
He would have ended up smashing Sylar, maybe forever.
It wasn't something he could conceive. Everything he'd worked for... lost. It was simply out of the question.
A sudden cold shiver seemed to catch him everytime that thought ended up shaping in his head.
Gabriel scared him. Even more than Sylar could scare him in turn.
He was the reflexive one, Gabriel was much more instinctive but also subtle and dangerous in his own way.
And in the same way, Maya could attract and disgust him at the same time.
She was a double weapon, weapon that he couldn't help using or he would have failed, he would have been defeated, again.
He had already told Alejandro (and himself too at least a million times) how that story would have ended if he hadn't been able to regain all his powers. He would have killed him, and seeked comfort in her - he could manipulate her, bending her to his will, pushing her to use that gift for his own destructive purposes. He would have killed them all, one by one.
So beautiful, so deadly.
Or, if everything had gone like he hoped, he would have killed them both. He knew he would have killed her too. The chance to never gain his powers again greatly disgusted and terrified him, and he rarely could take it into real consideration.
He turned towards the bed - where she was still deeply asleep -, with the lucid awareness of a fault that he was already claiming. He would have suffocated that sweet breath with his own hands. He made a promise to himself and he couldn't forgive Gabriel any weaknesses.
Gabriel would have suffered, and the memory of Maya, of that warmth, of that kiss, wouldn't have just disappeared with her.
She gave him sincere affection and gratitude.
Sylar could have easily forget it.
Gabriel couldn't.
Paradoxically, the dread of those black eyes full of death would accompany him forever.
For it would have come for him too, that day, and it would have her face, her lips, her soft black hair... her eyes.
Fandom: Heroes
Author: herm_weasley
Beat-Reader: albion1919 ♥
Characters: Sylar/Gabriel Grey, Maya Herrera
Pairing: Gabriel/Maya (implicit)
Rating: PG-13 (for certain expressions)
Word Count: 1353 (W)
Warnings: One-Shot, Spoilers for S2
Summary: He was staring at the darkness of the night from the open window. The sky was black and plain. No star to intercept that unshaped mass of blackness, no noise to shutter that frustrating silence.
Notes:
- First of all a big thank you to albion1919 that beta-readed the fic for me ♥
- Secondly, the title and the quotes are from Verrà La Morte e Avrà i Tuoi Occhi a poetry collection by the awesome Italian poet Cesare Pavese.
- And, uhm, that's all! Finally, I've translated something :P Any feedback is much appreciated!
Death Will Come With Your Eyes.
For everyone death has a look.
Death will come with your eyes.
It will be like terminating a vice,
as seen in the mirror
a dead face re-emerging,
like listening to closed lips.
We'll go down the abyss in silence.
Cesare Pavese
When he had decided to kill Gabriel, he thought to have done it for good. Everything it took to suffocate that part of him that he found ridiculous, almost disgusting, was staining his hands with blood, smearing them forever. Such a weak part, barely worthy notice.
It couldn't be actually considered.
Things had rapidly changed, without giving him time to realise everything fully.
While Sylar was taking over him, Gabriel was sinking under mountains of corpses that kept amassing endlessly. Scalped heads, whose stink - he thought - was still haunting him.
He had totally forgot about Gabriel. The harmless Gabriel Gray that fixed clocks and used to pay a visit to his mother every Sunday, in the nerve-wrecking wait for someone, someone that would have come knocking on his door, with a big smile on his face and the promise of a unique and special future. Something (or someone) that could drag him out of his grey daily routine.
And it was under that mass of curdled blood and opened skulls, that Gabriel had patiently waited. Unconsciously, he was left there, in silence. It was the sudden acceleration of his heart beat, or the horrible feeling of chocking, the cold sharp pain that foretells a failure to remind Sylar that Gabriel was still right there.
Still.
Where he had always been and from where - he knew - he would have never be able to send him away.
He was staring at the darkness of the night from the open window.
The sky was black and plain. No star to intercept that unshaped mass of blackness, no noise to shutter that frustrating silence.
Because he knew that Gabriel's voice could become even more deafening in the silence.
It wasn’t hard to realise that, in that moment, something wasn't right.
Maya's breath was accompanying his own, in a slow rise and fall, like a lullaby sung in a whisper to a baby who can't sleep.
He told her that he would have slept on the floor. That there wouldn't have been any problem: the only thing he cared about was regaining his powers. No matter how, no matter how many horrible things would be necessary, he just needed to reach his aim. Taking again the most precious things he had in the world, his distinctive mark, the merit badge proudly pinned to his chest.
But after a while, lying on the floor with the annoying smell of carpet and floor cleaner, he stood up. The thought of that upcoming success wasn't enough for a whole night. He was used to spend his nights in silence, half alseep, half awake, lost in his thoughts, in his insanity, meticulously planning the actions of the following day, the way to arrive to this or that person, or to take hold of the ever precious list in the hands of doctor Suresh.
But in that moment, there was Maya's breath melting his thoughts.
And he felt like he was sinning. He felt dirty and awkward.
It was a split second.
Just one stupid instant, before the thirst for power took control once again over any other thing or problem.
A moment, and what he felt holding her by the lake burst out without a reason.
It was like he could actually feel her heart beating again because of the exciting news, when she realised she was able to control that horrible, demonic power with whom God had punished her - punished for something she didn't do. He let her hold him too and he thought it was all so normal, that it actually made sense, at least until he let her go, and that contact was gone once for all.
He realised he had never hugged someone that way but his mother - his mother who was now dead because of a tragic fatality whose fault - sometimes - he felt was desperately his. It didn't take so long for that nice warmth in his chest to turn up again, warmth that seemed to be fed by the light in Maya's eyes, by that smile that stretched her face in that child-like expression that he used to consider extremely silly.
That warmth was Gabriel. Gabriel that was still in there, in his heart filled with hate and incomprehension.
He had been told, once, that hate is nothing but frozen love.
But he had never - never - dreaded of something that could arrive to melt that ice, to help break him free, like he had never been before.
Sylar was taking advantage of Maya. It wasn't the need to sin that was animating him, but only pure selfishness. She was just an instrument, the instrument he needed to fix himself.
And while he was trying to fix the gears, the pieces, while he was desperately doing anything he could to make that extremely sophisticated device work, he hadn't realised he had done nothing but confuse them, mixing them, assembling them in the wrong order and places.
The tick tack wasn't clear. It wasn't clean.
It was deaf and distort.
He couldn't stand it.
In the middle of the night, the spasmodic desire to feel that warmth again had taken him by surprise, totally unbalancing him.
It took all his will not to approach her, over there on the bed, between the sheets. To hold her tight and desperately hoping to feel that ice melting again... for a stupid split second.
He forced himself to remain still, just allowing his eyes to look at her.
Maya was something he could look at, but not touch.
And it wasn't for the sake of purity or chivalry, but just because he knew that - otherwise - he would be burnt. He was perfectly conscious about the fact that, in the long run, that flame that melts the ice would have probably swallowed him and burnt him alive.
If that happened, Gabriel would have turned up again.
He would have ended up smashing Sylar, maybe forever.
It wasn't something he could conceive. Everything he'd worked for... lost. It was simply out of the question.
A sudden cold shiver seemed to catch him everytime that thought ended up shaping in his head.
Gabriel scared him. Even more than Sylar could scare him in turn.
He was the reflexive one, Gabriel was much more instinctive but also subtle and dangerous in his own way.
And in the same way, Maya could attract and disgust him at the same time.
She was a double weapon, weapon that he couldn't help using or he would have failed, he would have been defeated, again.
He had already told Alejandro (and himself too at least a million times) how that story would have ended if he hadn't been able to regain all his powers. He would have killed him, and seeked comfort in her - he could manipulate her, bending her to his will, pushing her to use that gift for his own destructive purposes. He would have killed them all, one by one.
So beautiful, so deadly.
Or, if everything had gone like he hoped, he would have killed them both. He knew he would have killed her too. The chance to never gain his powers again greatly disgusted and terrified him, and he rarely could take it into real consideration.
He turned towards the bed - where she was still deeply asleep -, with the lucid awareness of a fault that he was already claiming. He would have suffocated that sweet breath with his own hands. He made a promise to himself and he couldn't forgive Gabriel any weaknesses.
Gabriel would have suffered, and the memory of Maya, of that warmth, of that kiss, wouldn't have just disappeared with her.
She gave him sincere affection and gratitude.
Sylar could have easily forget it.
Gabriel couldn't.
Paradoxically, the dread of those black eyes full of death would accompany him forever.
For it would have come for him too, that day, and it would have her face, her lips, her soft black hair... her eyes.