Grace Note
Title: Grace Note
Author: jaune_chat
Pairing: Sylar/Bennet
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,348
Spoilers: Specifically through 3x11, “Eclipse Part II”
Warnings: Dubcon/noncon, violence, technical death
Disclaimer Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
Author’s Notes: This is a different version of the Sylar/Bennet fight in “Eclipse Part II.” Thanks to brighteyed_jill for the beta. Written for soda_and_capes for the 2009 Valentine's Day heroes_exchange.
Summary: Gabriel wants revenge for what he knows is about to happen. He wants to show Bennet what he really is.
“I get it, you’re in control,” Gabriel said, letting Bennet clock him on the jaw and send him sprawling. Heat and pain blossomed along the side of his face, and Gabriel spat blood. But Bennet wasn’t angry enough yet. He’d come for Gabriel with murder in his heart, and Gabriel knew he wasn’t going to be able to survive Bennet this time.
Bennet’s wrath, whenever his daughter was harmed, was a force of nature. Gabriel was younger and stronger, but he’d never actually learned how to fight. Robbed of his powers, in shock from what had happened with Elle, he knew he was no match for the company man.
His mind was hellishly clear for the first time in nearly two years, but the momentary relief and peace he’d found in Elle’s arms was completely crushed under the weight of what was happening to him. Claire was dying, and Bennet would see to it that Gabriel was dead before her. Bennet, who had steered him into becoming what he was, and Elle, who had helped him, both of them had demanded things from him that he had given with no thought of the consequences.
He was thinking of the consequences now. Gabriel knew he was already a dead man, and only had to choose how to spend his last few minutes. Bennet was the one he’d always wanted to get back at, to prove to him that he was no more righteous than Sylar. If Bennet thought that hurting Claire was the worst that could happen, then Gabriel needed to prove him wrong. All of Gabriel’s life he had been nothing, until he’d found his power. Bennet already had power, so now it was time to prove he was nothing, no better, no more righteous, a monster and a killer, just like Sylar.
“The agent, the killer,” Gabriel said, his level voice a taunt. He had to get Bennet furious, to make him lose control… Gabriel blocked Bennet’s next swing, only to have him grab the back of his shirt and send him sprawling into a pile of boxes. He forced himself up, twisting to look at Bennet. Despite the pain, this was possibly the most honest Gabriel had ever been with him. Painful truth would get him what no amount of power ever had.
“And I’m defenseless,” Gabriel said, his voice both pleading and almost teasing. The fighting now was no more than a stall tactic, to give Bennet time to work through all the options, to bring to mind the best way to humiliate and destroy his daughter’s killer. Gabriel had to make Bennet ride the line between unthinking fury and the calculated need to torture.
Violence was like a drug to Bennet; danger only sharpened his senses. Gabriel had seen that during their brief time together as agents. Bennet needed control the way Sylar needed power. He needed his job. So Gabriel had to make this as much of a job, an objective, as revenge. For his job, there was no place Bennet wouldn’t go. Gabriel knew that in excruciating detail.
Panting, Gabriel slowly crawled out of the pile of boxes, deliberately arcing his back, tightening the fabric against his skin, playing up the defenseless angle as much as he could. Triumph and terror mingled in his gut when Bennet grabbed the waistband of his jeans and hauled him back a few paces. This was going to hurt like hell, but Bennet wouldn’t let him survive past a few moments. Hopefully that was all Gabriel needed to show Bennet what he really was.
“Defenseless?” Bennet growled, cracking Gabriel in the back of the head. His vision went gray, but Gabriel managed to cling to consciousness, his hands and knees cold on the concrete floor. “Claire was defenseless when you cut her head open, Claire was defenseless when she took a bullet for me. You don’t understand defenseless.”
Gabriel’s body couldn’t even respond properly when Bennet yanked his jeans off his slender hips, abrading his skin and baring his flesh to the cool air. He could only remind himself to breathe, to try to relax, when he felt Bennet’s hand in his hair, yanking his head back.
“You were never in control,” Bennet growled. Gabriel felt the push of something cold and metallic at his lips and gasped when Bennet gripped his hair tightly. The business end of a utility knife, blade retracted, forced itself down his throat. Gabriel choked around it, and then shouted in sudden pain when the hot, blunt end of Bennet’s cock shoved into him. Something ripped inside him as Bennet thrust again, and Gabriel gave into the pain and shame, and screamed.
Bennet was relentless, and Gabriel could feel the whole thick length of him deep inside his body, shoving, seeking for ways to hurt and humiliate him as must as possible. Gabriel choked as Bennet took the knife away so he could use his hands for leverage, and screamed again and again, short, hollow, agonizing sounds of pain that only spurred Bennet on.
Gabriel clung to the floor, most of him white-hot with agony and his guts feeling like they were trying to escape through his mouth. He fought the gray away from his vision, forcing himself to stay conscious, and gasped suddenly as one of Bennet’s savagely deep thrusts sparked an entirely new kind of pain in his body. God, he hadn’t done this in months, almost a year, and had forgotten how it felt. When he had been Zane, with Mohinder, it had been amazingly good. Bennet was only trying to punish him, but those damnable deep thrusts, even though they had torn him and were causing him unspeakable agony, were just deep enough to brush over his prostate.
He groaned as he felt himself spring to attention, his cock rapidly becoming achingly hard even as the rest of his body felt ready to break into pieces. In that pool of pain, the pleasure felt like a welcome intruder. One highlighted the other, and Gabriel’s eyes started to roll back into his head when he began riding the knife-edge of release. Bennet didn’t seem to notice at first, but his thrusts slowed when Gabriel involuntarily tried to shove back at a better angle. Then he noticed.
“You sick, twisted animal,” Bennet growled. Gabriel heard the knife blade being thumbed into place, and swallowed hard, desperate to play his trump card before the end. He couldn’t take much more; he was going to black out from pain or his damn heart would stop when he came. Either way he wasn’t going to last, because Bennet was almost ready.
“What if Claire could see you now?” Gabriel asked hoarsely, twisting around to see Bennet’s face.
It was everything he had hoped for; shock and personal disgust and a horrible realization that he was balls-deep in a serial killer while his daughter lay dying. Then the brittle façade of the company man slipped into place, but Gabriel could see past the mask to the self-loathing behind his eyes.
“Shut up!” Bennet roared, and Gabriel felt his head being yanked back again. He gasped, mouth open, as Bennet’s hips twitched again. Self-loathing or no, Bennet wouldn’t leave without satisfaction- of all sorts.
“You always wanted to be special Gabriel,” Bennet said, his voice softer now, full of menace. “Look at you now. Dying on the floor of a warehouse, a junkie trying to get his fix.”
Gabriel sucked in his last breath, and waited for Bennet to finish him.
There was a horrible slice of pain across his throat, and blood fountained over the floor, triggering an orgasm as exquisitely painful as death, powerful enough to bring tears to his eyes. The red blood and white semen mingled on the floor as Gabriel pitched forward, nerveless and losing control, feeling Bennet release deep inside him. His killer groaned behind him, sounding almost in as much pain as Gabriel.
“You’re nobody,” he heard Bennet say dimly, but it lacked the heat of anger, drained of all passion, in the kind of pain that only a dead man could understand.
No, Gabriel thought, as his vision finally went dark. You’re just like me.
Author: jaune_chat
Pairing: Sylar/Bennet
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,348
Spoilers: Specifically through 3x11, “Eclipse Part II”
Warnings: Dubcon/noncon, violence, technical death
Disclaimer Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
Author’s Notes: This is a different version of the Sylar/Bennet fight in “Eclipse Part II.” Thanks to brighteyed_jill for the beta. Written for soda_and_capes for the 2009 Valentine's Day heroes_exchange.
Summary: Gabriel wants revenge for what he knows is about to happen. He wants to show Bennet what he really is.
“I get it, you’re in control,” Gabriel said, letting Bennet clock him on the jaw and send him sprawling. Heat and pain blossomed along the side of his face, and Gabriel spat blood. But Bennet wasn’t angry enough yet. He’d come for Gabriel with murder in his heart, and Gabriel knew he wasn’t going to be able to survive Bennet this time.
Bennet’s wrath, whenever his daughter was harmed, was a force of nature. Gabriel was younger and stronger, but he’d never actually learned how to fight. Robbed of his powers, in shock from what had happened with Elle, he knew he was no match for the company man.
His mind was hellishly clear for the first time in nearly two years, but the momentary relief and peace he’d found in Elle’s arms was completely crushed under the weight of what was happening to him. Claire was dying, and Bennet would see to it that Gabriel was dead before her. Bennet, who had steered him into becoming what he was, and Elle, who had helped him, both of them had demanded things from him that he had given with no thought of the consequences.
He was thinking of the consequences now. Gabriel knew he was already a dead man, and only had to choose how to spend his last few minutes. Bennet was the one he’d always wanted to get back at, to prove to him that he was no more righteous than Sylar. If Bennet thought that hurting Claire was the worst that could happen, then Gabriel needed to prove him wrong. All of Gabriel’s life he had been nothing, until he’d found his power. Bennet already had power, so now it was time to prove he was nothing, no better, no more righteous, a monster and a killer, just like Sylar.
“The agent, the killer,” Gabriel said, his level voice a taunt. He had to get Bennet furious, to make him lose control… Gabriel blocked Bennet’s next swing, only to have him grab the back of his shirt and send him sprawling into a pile of boxes. He forced himself up, twisting to look at Bennet. Despite the pain, this was possibly the most honest Gabriel had ever been with him. Painful truth would get him what no amount of power ever had.
“And I’m defenseless,” Gabriel said, his voice both pleading and almost teasing. The fighting now was no more than a stall tactic, to give Bennet time to work through all the options, to bring to mind the best way to humiliate and destroy his daughter’s killer. Gabriel had to make Bennet ride the line between unthinking fury and the calculated need to torture.
Violence was like a drug to Bennet; danger only sharpened his senses. Gabriel had seen that during their brief time together as agents. Bennet needed control the way Sylar needed power. He needed his job. So Gabriel had to make this as much of a job, an objective, as revenge. For his job, there was no place Bennet wouldn’t go. Gabriel knew that in excruciating detail.
Panting, Gabriel slowly crawled out of the pile of boxes, deliberately arcing his back, tightening the fabric against his skin, playing up the defenseless angle as much as he could. Triumph and terror mingled in his gut when Bennet grabbed the waistband of his jeans and hauled him back a few paces. This was going to hurt like hell, but Bennet wouldn’t let him survive past a few moments. Hopefully that was all Gabriel needed to show Bennet what he really was.
“Defenseless?” Bennet growled, cracking Gabriel in the back of the head. His vision went gray, but Gabriel managed to cling to consciousness, his hands and knees cold on the concrete floor. “Claire was defenseless when you cut her head open, Claire was defenseless when she took a bullet for me. You don’t understand defenseless.”
Gabriel’s body couldn’t even respond properly when Bennet yanked his jeans off his slender hips, abrading his skin and baring his flesh to the cool air. He could only remind himself to breathe, to try to relax, when he felt Bennet’s hand in his hair, yanking his head back.
“You were never in control,” Bennet growled. Gabriel felt the push of something cold and metallic at his lips and gasped when Bennet gripped his hair tightly. The business end of a utility knife, blade retracted, forced itself down his throat. Gabriel choked around it, and then shouted in sudden pain when the hot, blunt end of Bennet’s cock shoved into him. Something ripped inside him as Bennet thrust again, and Gabriel gave into the pain and shame, and screamed.
Bennet was relentless, and Gabriel could feel the whole thick length of him deep inside his body, shoving, seeking for ways to hurt and humiliate him as must as possible. Gabriel choked as Bennet took the knife away so he could use his hands for leverage, and screamed again and again, short, hollow, agonizing sounds of pain that only spurred Bennet on.
Gabriel clung to the floor, most of him white-hot with agony and his guts feeling like they were trying to escape through his mouth. He fought the gray away from his vision, forcing himself to stay conscious, and gasped suddenly as one of Bennet’s savagely deep thrusts sparked an entirely new kind of pain in his body. God, he hadn’t done this in months, almost a year, and had forgotten how it felt. When he had been Zane, with Mohinder, it had been amazingly good. Bennet was only trying to punish him, but those damnable deep thrusts, even though they had torn him and were causing him unspeakable agony, were just deep enough to brush over his prostate.
He groaned as he felt himself spring to attention, his cock rapidly becoming achingly hard even as the rest of his body felt ready to break into pieces. In that pool of pain, the pleasure felt like a welcome intruder. One highlighted the other, and Gabriel’s eyes started to roll back into his head when he began riding the knife-edge of release. Bennet didn’t seem to notice at first, but his thrusts slowed when Gabriel involuntarily tried to shove back at a better angle. Then he noticed.
“You sick, twisted animal,” Bennet growled. Gabriel heard the knife blade being thumbed into place, and swallowed hard, desperate to play his trump card before the end. He couldn’t take much more; he was going to black out from pain or his damn heart would stop when he came. Either way he wasn’t going to last, because Bennet was almost ready.
“What if Claire could see you now?” Gabriel asked hoarsely, twisting around to see Bennet’s face.
It was everything he had hoped for; shock and personal disgust and a horrible realization that he was balls-deep in a serial killer while his daughter lay dying. Then the brittle façade of the company man slipped into place, but Gabriel could see past the mask to the self-loathing behind his eyes.
“Shut up!” Bennet roared, and Gabriel felt his head being yanked back again. He gasped, mouth open, as Bennet’s hips twitched again. Self-loathing or no, Bennet wouldn’t leave without satisfaction- of all sorts.
“You always wanted to be special Gabriel,” Bennet said, his voice softer now, full of menace. “Look at you now. Dying on the floor of a warehouse, a junkie trying to get his fix.”
Gabriel sucked in his last breath, and waited for Bennet to finish him.
There was a horrible slice of pain across his throat, and blood fountained over the floor, triggering an orgasm as exquisitely painful as death, powerful enough to bring tears to his eyes. The red blood and white semen mingled on the floor as Gabriel pitched forward, nerveless and losing control, feeling Bennet release deep inside him. His killer groaned behind him, sounding almost in as much pain as Gabriel.
“You’re nobody,” he heard Bennet say dimly, but it lacked the heat of anger, drained of all passion, in the kind of pain that only a dead man could understand.
No, Gabriel thought, as his vision finally went dark. You’re just like me.