Fic: Waking Dream - Ch. 2
Title: Waking Dream
Author: lastcutebender
Character/Pairing: Sylar/Gabriel G., Mohinder
Rating: R (just to be safe)
Word Count: 2,153
Disclaimer: Don't own Heroes.
Warning: If you don't like AU's or slight AU's, do not continue.
Author's Note: I'm so sorry this is so late! I have tried multiple times to update this fic but for some odd reason, whenever I try to put it under an LJ cut, it freaks out and re-arranges the story into a muddled piece of epic confusion! So special thanks to starrdust411 who did me a HUGE favor by posting my fic for me ^_^ I hope you enjoy it!!!
Summary: We never really appreciate linear thought until it's ripped away from us. When you can't remember who you are, nothing else really matters. All you want is the truth, and you want it now. Slight AU.
Chapter 1
Waking Dream
Chapter 2
Tonight It’s Worse
Flickering lights always added a certain touch to destruction.
Chairs and tables were thrown everywhere, leaning up against various walls and doors. Some trapped in the walls themselves.
And everything was quiet.
The patients locked away in their rooms didn’t dare shift. They may have been insane, but they weren’t stupid. Something dangerous was lurking in their halls and they were not about to have it turn on them.
The screaming had stopped a while ago and he was grateful for that. The empty halls caused the sound to bounce everywhere and it made his eardrums ring painfully.
His head still hurt and he didn’t need that kind of agitation.
It all happened so quickly, a blur, just like his memories.
What had he done?
…6 Hours Earlier…
“Idiots!”
The doctor looked at the young telepaths in front of him, their heads bowed. They knew what was expected of them yet they had failed to produce the result.
They were slipping.
“You two were the top of your class!” the psychiatrist scolded, tossing his legal pad down onto the table separating them. The other occupants of the break room shot looks at each other and quickly scurried out into the hall, deciding that being with the patients was probably better than being with the doctor at the moment.
“He’s…” one of the telepath’s started, shuffling his foot in embarrassment. “He’s really difficult. It’s hard to hide everything from him…even with two of us.”
The telepath looked up meeting the older gentleman’s gaze, “And are you so sure it’s us? The other pa-“
“You two were scheduled to be on during my session with him, correct?”
Losing his steam the young telepath looked back down at his shoes.
“He remembers timepieces,” the psychiatrist continued, pacing now. “And he doesn’t believe that what he has is amnesia.”
“Well he’s always been inquisitive,” the girl offered quietly. “Maybe he just doesn’t trust you.”
The doctor’s mad pacing halted and he turned to look at the girl. “I shouldn’t have to worry about him trusting me. It’s your job to make sure that he’s a zombie, a shadow of his former self. Don’t blame me for your faults.”
He unclipped the small walkie on his belt and put it to his mouth, pushing the button. “Elle.”
Static sounded for a few seconds.
“Yes?”
“I need you in the break room.”
He didn’t wait for a response and turned the walkie off, clipping it back to his belt.
“I have a dinner date with an old colleague, so I can’t handle you two right now.” the doctor informed as he looked at the pair. “But when I get back, you two had better have worked this out.”
Before he turned around the small blonde woman walked through the swinging door, stopping it in its motion.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, glancing around.
“I need you to come up with a way to keep Sylar down. He cannot break through.”
Elle looked at the two telepath’s trying to keep her face neutral. Her suspicions were coming true, he was just too strong.
The doctor walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, “I need you to fix this.” And with that, he left.
Elle watched his retreating form and shook her head, stepping into the room. He could have cleared up the matter easily himself, but why miss a chance to give her busy work?
She placed her ever present clipboard down on the table and sat, gesturing for the two telepaths to do the same.
“What’s going on?”
The girl adjusted herself and looked up, “He’s breaking through. Your father says that he remembers timepieces.”
Elle nodded slowly, licking her lips. “Anything else?”
The boy ran a hand through his hair, “He repeats ‘I can fix that’ a lot in his head. It’s actually really annoying.”
Elle smirked and scribbled the phrase down.
“Who controls thought process?”
“I do,” the girl answered, tucking a piece of her brown hair behind her ear.
“So you’re memories?” Elle questioned, looking at the boy. He nodded, looking a bit sheepish.
“Okay.” She jotted something else down on her clipboard. “I’m going to put an older telepath in with you two, he or she will help you suppress his memories.”
The boy shifted in his seat, looking down at the floor. If his partner was bothered by the change, she didn’t show it. Their internship here would decide where they would be placed in the future. Whether they would be able to feed future families or have to scrounge up whatever they could find wherever they could find it.
Their lives depended on this, and Elle felt sorry for them.
Feeling uncomfortable, Elle grabbed her father’s legal pad along with her clipboard, said goodbye to the duo and left them to enjoy what was left of their break, feeling guilty for having a hand in ruining it.
She would have to tell her father what was going on. How he would take the idea of her bringing on another telepath was a mystery. No matter how well she thought she knew him, he would always surprise her with a contrasting response. She was a firm believer that he needed a psychiatrist himself.
Rapping on a tall white metal door at the end of one of their many halls, she waited patiently for the sound of the door unlocking. She backed up slowly as it came, and the metal door creaked open, revealing a room the size of a small kitchen. Two people sat in comfortable looking chairs, both involved in a game of chess. They looked up at her with questioning eyes.
“What’s he been up to?” Elle questioned as she stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. She looked at the three TV’s adorning the wall, each with a different view of the sleeping man.
“Catching up on sleep,” one of the men responded, his attention back on the chess board.
“Anything unusual?”
“Not lately.”
Elle nodded, not entirely trusting the two. They were both older telepaths, both set in their lives with wives and children. Their minds tended to drift to other things rather than keeping their attentions on the task at hand. She preferred the younger ones.
“He’s been sleeping a lot,” the other offered, moving a piece.
“His body is being forced to forget things and black out at any moment. It’s a normal response.” She glanced down at her wrist watch, checking the time. “Has he been repeating ‘I can fix that’?”
The older of the two stretched, grunting as he did so. “He was, but he stopped once his head hit the pillow.”
She let out a sigh and adjusted her white coat. “Page me if anything.” She turned around and opened the door, pushing on it with her shoulder.
It should have calmed her to know that he had stopped thinking that constant statement...it didn’t.
… 2 Hours Earlier …
“My name is Chandra -resh”
Slowly but surely some pieces were floating back to him. It was as if someone had built a dam and the foundation was just beginning to crack. He couldn’t wait for it to breach.
Sleep was prominent at the moment. It seemed that every few hours he would go drowsy and slip away into unconsciousness. He hated it. It always happened when he was onto something, finally getting somewhere in his confusion.
What was going on?
“You have amnesia.”
No.
No he didn’t have amnesia. The doctor was lying and that didn’t surprise him.
Everyone here was lying.
“My name is Chandra -resh”
Why couldn’t he remember?
Frustrated, he stood on shaky legs and slowly began to pace the length of his small room. Who couldn’t he remember?
Why was everything so-[The window in his room was so small and so close to the ceiling, at times he wished it was bigger so it would let in more light.]
He groaned in annoyance, his pacing growing more frantic.
Why couldn’t he remember?
If he could just grab onto some solid idea-[The sunlight was beautiful, especially in the morning. It made his room so bright, almost blindingly so.]
Growling he ground his teeth together and crashed his shin against his bed frame.
“My name is Chandra Suresh.”
He watched silently as the frame shuddered from the agitation. He had a name. He remembered a name.
What else could he remember?
|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|
“He has a name.”
Elle sat motionless, listening to the silence that followed. He had a name.
Shit.
“When did this happen?” her voice was low and hurried.
“About 5 minutes ago.”
She bit her lip and bounced slightly in her chair. “How did it get through?”
“To be honest I’m not sure. He kicked his bed and the next thing I knew he remembered Suresh’s name.”
She tilted her head back looking up at the ceiling. Why was it that all critical matters happened on her watch?
She glanced nervously at the time and sighed. It was 7:30 and her dad wouldn’t be back for another hour. She could fix this. Hopefully.
“Can you block it?”
“Yeah I can block it, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t remember something else.”
Elle sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead, the beginnings of a migraine coming on. She would have to up his sedatives, making his thought process slower and less coherent. It was the only way.
“He’s awake now?”
“Yes.”
“Block it.”
Static crackled over the line.
“Are you sure?”
No, she wasn’t sure. Before she upped his dosage she needed to run it by her father, meaning she would have to wait for him to finish dinner. Waiting wouldn’t make anything better.
“Yes.”
Silently she prayed that she had made the right decision instead of a horribly wrong one.
|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|
As quickly as the name had come, it had gone again.
The only thing left was the empty feeling that he had forgotten something important, and it angered him.
What had he forgotten again?!
He couldn’t explain it, but he was certain now that he didn’t have amnesia. He would never-[The room was pristine, everything in its place, just how he liked it.]
Tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes, leaving long wet trails in their wake. Who was he if he couldn’t remember? Humans are products of their past. Memories make up who we are.
Who was he if he didn’t have any?
Nobody.
And a nobody cannot become somebody.
He would never be special.
His legs gave out from under him and he tumbled to the floor, but it didn’t matter. This endless loop of remembering and forgetting was exhausting and he couldn’t do it anymore. His tears were hot against his skin but he didn’t care.
‘You’re broken.’
Wires.
Yellow.
Brian Davis.
Thoughts were racing past him so quickly now that he couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
A dull throbbing pain slowly crept up the base of his neck and engulfed his entire skull.
What was happening?
… 7 minutes Earlier …
“You said everything was going to be fine and you were wrong!” Elle fumed, running a shaking hand through her hair.
“This is just a minor set back.” Her father assured her, his eyes never leaving the security monitor in front of him.
“People are dead, you call that minor?” she hissed. “We’ve lost, dad.”
Screaming could be heard from the halls, it swirled around them tugging at their stomachs. They were losing time fast.
“Angela is already aware of the situation. She will handle this.”
“Well it’s nice to know that after we’re dead the Petrelli’s will still do what’s best for themselves.”
The doctor glared at his daughter, not appreciating her comment on the situation. What he and Angela were doing was in everyone’s best interest, not just the Petrelli family.
“As usual you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Elle narrowed her eyes at her father as the door to his office blew in off its hinges. She pressed herself against a wall and watched as it bounced against the floor, now a piece of scrap metal.
She hated being right.
…
The stunned brunet looked down at his stained hands and flexed them. He remembered this.
The feeling of completion.
A goal had been reached, but which one…he couldn’t remember. Glancing around at the destruction he tried to recall but his thoughts felt…muffled. Something still wasn’t right.
But it was okay, he was free now.
He could find out who he was.
He could be somebody.
He could be special.
Chapter 3
Author: lastcutebender
Character/Pairing: Sylar/Gabriel G., Mohinder
Rating: R (just to be safe)
Word Count: 2,153
Disclaimer: Don't own Heroes.
Warning: If you don't like AU's or slight AU's, do not continue.
Author's Note: I'm so sorry this is so late! I have tried multiple times to update this fic but for some odd reason, whenever I try to put it under an LJ cut, it freaks out and re-arranges the story into a muddled piece of epic confusion! So special thanks to starrdust411 who did me a HUGE favor by posting my fic for me ^_^ I hope you enjoy it!!!
Summary: We never really appreciate linear thought until it's ripped away from us. When you can't remember who you are, nothing else really matters. All you want is the truth, and you want it now. Slight AU.
Chapter 1
Waking Dream
Chapter 2
Tonight It’s Worse
Flickering lights always added a certain touch to destruction.
Chairs and tables were thrown everywhere, leaning up against various walls and doors. Some trapped in the walls themselves.
And everything was quiet.
The patients locked away in their rooms didn’t dare shift. They may have been insane, but they weren’t stupid. Something dangerous was lurking in their halls and they were not about to have it turn on them.
The screaming had stopped a while ago and he was grateful for that. The empty halls caused the sound to bounce everywhere and it made his eardrums ring painfully.
His head still hurt and he didn’t need that kind of agitation.
It all happened so quickly, a blur, just like his memories.
What had he done?
…6 Hours Earlier…
“Idiots!”
The doctor looked at the young telepaths in front of him, their heads bowed. They knew what was expected of them yet they had failed to produce the result.
They were slipping.
“You two were the top of your class!” the psychiatrist scolded, tossing his legal pad down onto the table separating them. The other occupants of the break room shot looks at each other and quickly scurried out into the hall, deciding that being with the patients was probably better than being with the doctor at the moment.
“He’s…” one of the telepath’s started, shuffling his foot in embarrassment. “He’s really difficult. It’s hard to hide everything from him…even with two of us.”
The telepath looked up meeting the older gentleman’s gaze, “And are you so sure it’s us? The other pa-“
“You two were scheduled to be on during my session with him, correct?”
Losing his steam the young telepath looked back down at his shoes.
“He remembers timepieces,” the psychiatrist continued, pacing now. “And he doesn’t believe that what he has is amnesia.”
“Well he’s always been inquisitive,” the girl offered quietly. “Maybe he just doesn’t trust you.”
The doctor’s mad pacing halted and he turned to look at the girl. “I shouldn’t have to worry about him trusting me. It’s your job to make sure that he’s a zombie, a shadow of his former self. Don’t blame me for your faults.”
He unclipped the small walkie on his belt and put it to his mouth, pushing the button. “Elle.”
Static sounded for a few seconds.
“Yes?”
“I need you in the break room.”
He didn’t wait for a response and turned the walkie off, clipping it back to his belt.
“I have a dinner date with an old colleague, so I can’t handle you two right now.” the doctor informed as he looked at the pair. “But when I get back, you two had better have worked this out.”
Before he turned around the small blonde woman walked through the swinging door, stopping it in its motion.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, glancing around.
“I need you to come up with a way to keep Sylar down. He cannot break through.”
Elle looked at the two telepath’s trying to keep her face neutral. Her suspicions were coming true, he was just too strong.
The doctor walked up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, “I need you to fix this.” And with that, he left.
Elle watched his retreating form and shook her head, stepping into the room. He could have cleared up the matter easily himself, but why miss a chance to give her busy work?
She placed her ever present clipboard down on the table and sat, gesturing for the two telepaths to do the same.
“What’s going on?”
The girl adjusted herself and looked up, “He’s breaking through. Your father says that he remembers timepieces.”
Elle nodded slowly, licking her lips. “Anything else?”
The boy ran a hand through his hair, “He repeats ‘I can fix that’ a lot in his head. It’s actually really annoying.”
Elle smirked and scribbled the phrase down.
“Who controls thought process?”
“I do,” the girl answered, tucking a piece of her brown hair behind her ear.
“So you’re memories?” Elle questioned, looking at the boy. He nodded, looking a bit sheepish.
“Okay.” She jotted something else down on her clipboard. “I’m going to put an older telepath in with you two, he or she will help you suppress his memories.”
The boy shifted in his seat, looking down at the floor. If his partner was bothered by the change, she didn’t show it. Their internship here would decide where they would be placed in the future. Whether they would be able to feed future families or have to scrounge up whatever they could find wherever they could find it.
Their lives depended on this, and Elle felt sorry for them.
Feeling uncomfortable, Elle grabbed her father’s legal pad along with her clipboard, said goodbye to the duo and left them to enjoy what was left of their break, feeling guilty for having a hand in ruining it.
She would have to tell her father what was going on. How he would take the idea of her bringing on another telepath was a mystery. No matter how well she thought she knew him, he would always surprise her with a contrasting response. She was a firm believer that he needed a psychiatrist himself.
Rapping on a tall white metal door at the end of one of their many halls, she waited patiently for the sound of the door unlocking. She backed up slowly as it came, and the metal door creaked open, revealing a room the size of a small kitchen. Two people sat in comfortable looking chairs, both involved in a game of chess. They looked up at her with questioning eyes.
“What’s he been up to?” Elle questioned as she stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. She looked at the three TV’s adorning the wall, each with a different view of the sleeping man.
“Catching up on sleep,” one of the men responded, his attention back on the chess board.
“Anything unusual?”
“Not lately.”
Elle nodded, not entirely trusting the two. They were both older telepaths, both set in their lives with wives and children. Their minds tended to drift to other things rather than keeping their attentions on the task at hand. She preferred the younger ones.
“He’s been sleeping a lot,” the other offered, moving a piece.
“His body is being forced to forget things and black out at any moment. It’s a normal response.” She glanced down at her wrist watch, checking the time. “Has he been repeating ‘I can fix that’?”
The older of the two stretched, grunting as he did so. “He was, but he stopped once his head hit the pillow.”
She let out a sigh and adjusted her white coat. “Page me if anything.” She turned around and opened the door, pushing on it with her shoulder.
It should have calmed her to know that he had stopped thinking that constant statement...it didn’t.
… 2 Hours Earlier …
“My name is Chandra -resh”
Slowly but surely some pieces were floating back to him. It was as if someone had built a dam and the foundation was just beginning to crack. He couldn’t wait for it to breach.
Sleep was prominent at the moment. It seemed that every few hours he would go drowsy and slip away into unconsciousness. He hated it. It always happened when he was onto something, finally getting somewhere in his confusion.
What was going on?
“You have amnesia.”
No.
No he didn’t have amnesia. The doctor was lying and that didn’t surprise him.
Everyone here was lying.
“My name is Chandra -resh”
Why couldn’t he remember?
Frustrated, he stood on shaky legs and slowly began to pace the length of his small room. Who couldn’t he remember?
Why was everything so-[The window in his room was so small and so close to the ceiling, at times he wished it was bigger so it would let in more light.]
He groaned in annoyance, his pacing growing more frantic.
Why couldn’t he remember?
If he could just grab onto some solid idea-[The sunlight was beautiful, especially in the morning. It made his room so bright, almost blindingly so.]
Growling he ground his teeth together and crashed his shin against his bed frame.
“My name is Chandra Suresh.”
He watched silently as the frame shuddered from the agitation. He had a name. He remembered a name.
What else could he remember?
|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|
“He has a name.”
Elle sat motionless, listening to the silence that followed. He had a name.
Shit.
“When did this happen?” her voice was low and hurried.
“About 5 minutes ago.”
She bit her lip and bounced slightly in her chair. “How did it get through?”
“To be honest I’m not sure. He kicked his bed and the next thing I knew he remembered Suresh’s name.”
She tilted her head back looking up at the ceiling. Why was it that all critical matters happened on her watch?
She glanced nervously at the time and sighed. It was 7:30 and her dad wouldn’t be back for another hour. She could fix this. Hopefully.
“Can you block it?”
“Yeah I can block it, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t remember something else.”
Elle sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead, the beginnings of a migraine coming on. She would have to up his sedatives, making his thought process slower and less coherent. It was the only way.
“He’s awake now?”
“Yes.”
“Block it.”
Static crackled over the line.
“Are you sure?”
No, she wasn’t sure. Before she upped his dosage she needed to run it by her father, meaning she would have to wait for him to finish dinner. Waiting wouldn’t make anything better.
“Yes.”
Silently she prayed that she had made the right decision instead of a horribly wrong one.
|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|*|
As quickly as the name had come, it had gone again.
The only thing left was the empty feeling that he had forgotten something important, and it angered him.
What had he forgotten again?!
He couldn’t explain it, but he was certain now that he didn’t have amnesia. He would never-[The room was pristine, everything in its place, just how he liked it.]
Tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes, leaving long wet trails in their wake. Who was he if he couldn’t remember? Humans are products of their past. Memories make up who we are.
Who was he if he didn’t have any?
Nobody.
And a nobody cannot become somebody.
He would never be special.
His legs gave out from under him and he tumbled to the floor, but it didn’t matter. This endless loop of remembering and forgetting was exhausting and he couldn’t do it anymore. His tears were hot against his skin but he didn’t care.
‘You’re broken.’
Wires.
Yellow.
Brian Davis.
Thoughts were racing past him so quickly now that he couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
A dull throbbing pain slowly crept up the base of his neck and engulfed his entire skull.
What was happening?
… 7 minutes Earlier …
“You said everything was going to be fine and you were wrong!” Elle fumed, running a shaking hand through her hair.
“This is just a minor set back.” Her father assured her, his eyes never leaving the security monitor in front of him.
“People are dead, you call that minor?” she hissed. “We’ve lost, dad.”
Screaming could be heard from the halls, it swirled around them tugging at their stomachs. They were losing time fast.
“Angela is already aware of the situation. She will handle this.”
“Well it’s nice to know that after we’re dead the Petrelli’s will still do what’s best for themselves.”
The doctor glared at his daughter, not appreciating her comment on the situation. What he and Angela were doing was in everyone’s best interest, not just the Petrelli family.
“As usual you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Elle narrowed her eyes at her father as the door to his office blew in off its hinges. She pressed herself against a wall and watched as it bounced against the floor, now a piece of scrap metal.
She hated being right.
…
The stunned brunet looked down at his stained hands and flexed them. He remembered this.
The feeling of completion.
A goal had been reached, but which one…he couldn’t remember. Glancing around at the destruction he tried to recall but his thoughts felt…muffled. Something still wasn’t right.
But it was okay, he was free now.
He could find out who he was.
He could be somebody.
He could be special.
Chapter 3