Fic : Dining on Ashes // Chapter Twenty Four

Jun 14, 2009 15:24

Title: Dining On Ashes
Chapter name: 24 //What Time Is It Mister Wolf?
Fandom: Heroes
Characters: Sylar, OCs
Pairing(s): Sylar/OC
Rating: NC-17
Summary: After the events of Villains, Sylar finds himself working, yet again, for a company. Just when he thinks that things might be different, he is sent on an assignment. Killings, he can handle, robberies, no problem, but, when he's asked to protect a woman and bring her safely back to the Corporation, he might have met his match.
A/N: I'm kind of really sick at the moment so excuse any mistakes, or just point them out so I can correct them. Sorry if this is sub-par.

Chapter Twenty Four // What Time Is It, Mister Wolf?

She spun around, making herself dizzy. Then suddenly, everything went black. At first she thought that she had passed out, but the reality was worse.

Much worse.

The room in which she was standing was one she had never seen before. In its center was a cage within it, a bubble of plastic that held her in place. People milled about, looking at her as if she was a prized animal in a zoo.

One man pushed through the crowd, his voice like Moses’ stick, parting the crowd in two.

The Boss.

“Hello, Miss Jax.”

“Hello scum. I’d call you by your name but as I don’t know it…”

He smiled, nodding at a man who held a buzzer in his hand, just like the kind professors used to change the slides of their presentations back in the olden days when laptops weren’t handy. She felt a jolt go through her body, a painful muscle contraction that sent her to her knees. Her whole body trembled, seized, burned. Every inch was on fire.

Electrocution.

The current stopped and the men laughed, eyes locked on her as if she was a circus freak up for observation.

“How does that feel?” the Boss questioned, hands pressed against the bubble, childlike joy present on his features.

She tried to stand, pushing up on shaking elbows. But she fell in a pool of liquid. The whimper escaped unwillingly from her lips. The best she could do was clench and unclench her hands, the muscles not even wishing to form a full fist.

“You are bringing this upon yourself,” he alleged mockingly.

His words echoed in her ball, bounced off the walls of her skull.

“And how could I have stopped this?” she inhaled sharply, her voice wobbling unsurely. It wasn’t fear, it wasn’t uncertainty, that made her weak. It was pain. Still, she pushed up onto her shaking knees and stood.

“Let’s say you could have made better friends.”

“And who are you suggesting I play with? You? Are you lonely, sir?”

“Be careful. I’ve got the trigger”

“And I’ve got your bullets.”

Another nod and she was back on her knees, stomach heaving.

“Not so pretty now.”

“You aren’t going to be either, when I get my way.”

“You can’t even touch me.”

“Not now. But you can’t keep me in here forever.”

“Watch me.”

“Plastic prisons don’t cage powerful people. Especially not me.”

“Being Sylar’s special little buddy has done horrid things to your self-perception.”

“And your self-importance has made you oblivious to the greatness of others. Just because you can’t see past your own belly button doesn’t mean you are the best in the universe.”

He laughed but it was chilling.

“Get changed.”

Suddenly, a latch was opened and clothes were pushed through a small hole in the bubble. She gathered it up with her hands, rubbing the fabric against her skin. It was much softer then her current garments.

“Is this supposed to subdue me? Am I supposed to throw myself at you now, proclaiming my undying love and loyalty?”

“No, it’s because you stink.”

She took the insult without a wince

“And I’m just supposed to change while you all watch?”

The men smiled, not moving a muscle. She had everyone’s attention now.

“Let’s keep the pretense of privacy shall we?” she suggested.

“What about, didn’t Sylar see everything?” one man teased

“Get out!”

The Boss grinned, walking closer.

“Do you actually think he loved you, that he’ll protect you?”

She was about to scream ‘yes’, the shout it for the whole world to hear, but how could she be sure. He had treated Elle the same way. Had she believed that he would give up everything for her, that he would care for her? Hadn’t he disposed of her as soon as he saw that she was a weakness?

Wouldn’t it be much easier to just leave her here, at the mercy of these men? Less blood coating his hands.

“Did you actually believe he’s come back?”

Smiles and kisses… did her love her?

She loved him. And she allowed herself to believe what she wanted to. A cage with a hope of escape is better than a cage filled with despair.

“Yes,” she said looking up from her hands.

He looked almost stunned to hear her insist, but the façade reappeared quickly.

“Don’t come crying to me when this ends in tears.”

“This won’t end in tears,” she told his retreating form. “It’ll end with your men cleaning the floors of your blood.”

He didn’t even falter just kept walking, and she kept smiling, watching as everyone else the room gave her the “privacy” she had asked for.

¤ ¤ ¤

“It shows weakness sir.”

“Weakness?”

“To let her get what she wants. It almost looks like you want to please her.”

“Does it?”

“Yes, everyone thinks so.”

“And you, Tim, how do you feel?”

“What I feel has no importance, sir.”

The boss smiled, looking into the room through the two way mirror. She had turned her back on them but she still was far from the privacy she had requested.

“Even prisoners about to be killed are allowed a last meal. Plays with the illusion of hope.”

“You want to give her hope? Why?”

“Why do you think?”

“To crush it?”

The Boss smiled, almost softly.

“She’s so pretty when she cries.”

¤ ¤ ¤

This man was strong, very powerful, and it didn’t take long to guess he wasn’t naturally so.

So the Corporation did have a version of the serum. Although, gauging by the empty look in the man’s eyes, there was something wrong with their solution.

Despite his lack of, shall we say spirit, the man was stronger than most. After the initial shock, the man was rapidly dispensed and the others followed suit.

One brain, two brains, tree…

By the fourth he was wondering were Adrianna had run off to. By this point she was usually gagging over his shoulder or shuffling nervously. She might have even dragged him away already.

Five.

“Jax?”

No response.

That got his attention.

No footsteps, no breaths but his own. When it got to killing, she usually didn’t wait long before opposing, usually verbally.

He turned, when she didn’t answer, worry swelling in his chest like a big black oppressing cloud shocking out the hope. She was not there.

He had seen her last running to this very spot, her legs lights, feet lighter, heart like a lead anchor in her chest. And he had seen her turning, sure that, as soon as he had counted to three, she would have run back.

“Jax?”

Where? Where?

Where?

Then he realized… Taken…. She had been taken. He knew this as surely as he knew that she was still alive. They wouldn’t kill her, she was too precious to him, too much of a valuable hostage to be butchered.

He might know she was still animate, but he was no closer to figuring out where they were keeping her.

¤ ¤ ¤

“So I stand here, in my own aquarium.”

The men smiled.

“And wait to be rescued?”

More smiles, a few nods added extra flair, a little spice to the balding men, clearly the most important men of the Corporation. She couldn’t help but feel that Sylar should be here, he was much more powerful than all the people in this room. They were bureaucrats, using lies and promises to control people. He could feel their dishonesty from miles away; he could control the masses better than all these men.

And power leaked from his pores.

But he had a weakness.

She pressed her palm to the glass, fingers splayed. She watched as men backed away wearily, as if they doubted that flimsy plastic would hold her back.

Slowly she curled her hand into a fist. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a few lower classed individuals, big guns in their hands as if they had become permanent expansions of their limbs, shifting uncomfortably. She brought her hand down roughly in the plastic -which she then discovered was actually Plexiglas oddly molded into a ball. It hurt her more than she had thought it would.

“Don’t!” one man snapped, waving a finger at her as if she was a misbehaving dog.

She laughed, balling her fist up once more, sparks dancing on her knuckles.

“Want to make me?” she asked, oddly self-assured for someone caged. And the men did not miss this, moving in swiftly.

Suddenly her fist became aglow in blue sparks, electricity slowly spreading across her skin, covering the tip of her fingers to her elbow like the gloves rich women used to wear. Then, like a pulse, she let the juice flow, spreading though her body, It hurt, especially when the sparks hit the metal underfoot but she watched, through blue flames, as the men backed away, one even fleeing from the circle of watchers.

Water suddenly sprayed from above and she found herself once more on her knees.

“Do you enjoy pain?” inquired the Boss as he pushed through the crowd once more.

“Pleasure seeing you here, sir.”

He smiled slowly down at her.

“Where’s your savior?”

“Where’s your prisoner? Afraid he’s gone? That I just wasn’t enough to keep him here?”

“If he abandons you then he’s leaving you to the sharks.”

“And you are left running a race without your prized stallion. I think, in the long run, you might be more damaged. After all, sharks don’t like human meat, lone sharks, on the other hand, do.”

His smiled turned bitter, rotting his face like a disease. He stepped back from the cage, drumming his fingers lightly on the glass.

“A perfect insulator,” he said looking down at her. He took a calming breath before talking again, “the thing is, you only have so much energy before you crash. And this ball won’t help, there is no air being pumped into it, barely any holes. You won’t be able to survive for long. The only thing keeping you alive are his powers and it looks like you’ve been draining them at a considerable rate, what with your little temper tantrums.”

Suddenly her own grin faded. She didn’t have her powers mastered but she could tell when she needed replenishment, when her juice was fading. She wasn’t yet that that point, but she was not going to last for more than a few hours. She might not even last for one if she took everything easy and simply waited to be rescued. A howl of rage nearly ripped itself from her throat but she managed to snuff it.

“Not so cocky now, hmm?”

She looked up at him, face blank, simply accepting her fate.

“So, where is your little man now?”

The sob was stopped before it could do damage, somewhere between her throat and her mouth. She was quite sure that he had become paler than an Elizabethan woman painting her face with a thick smattering of lead and vinegar, since the Boss smiled proudly as if he had finally broken her.

And she was afraid he had.

¤ ¤ ¤

Rooms, cupboards and laboratories. No one there to see him switch from room to room, often transporting from one hall to the other, hands and eyes frenzied.

He almost laughed at his own weakness, his own need to have her by her side. Maybe it was because she was the first person in this place that didn’t worship the Boss, the only one who could resist the cocktail he was pumping into this other employees. Maybe it was the way she shuddered to his touch. Maybe it was how her fingers traced patters like lava on his skin.

Maybe it was since they were both so much more alive when they were close, as if one was the battery to the other’s device.

Maybe it was because he could feel her distress, or maybe he was just imagining that as well.

What he was not imagining were the footfalls of steel against thin linoleum, quickly becoming louder. Those were loud and clear, audible over the blaring horn of the alarm system.

He jumped, landing in a corridor several hundred feet away from the noise.

Coward, said a voice much like his own.

You used to be strong, said another than sounded like Adrianna’s. You can’t protect me.

“You don’t need me,” he mumbled, looking at his own red stained hands.

A loud scream broke him from his reverie, head snapping up, self pity pushed away to be replaced with fury, white hot and leaching to every surface.

They’re going to burn.

The smiled transformed his face, turning it into a bitter picture of revenge.

He looks down the hall, from there the sound had come, trying door after door before finding on that did not yield to his touch.

No problem.

He closed his eyes, preparing to jump. He felt himself split into atoms then reassemble. She quickly opened his eyes only to find himself facing the same door. He spun on his heels.

He hadn’t moved.

Rather than get discouraged, he saw this as a good thing. This meant he had found her.

¤ ¤ ¤

The pounds came quickly and loudly, shaking the door and its hinges.

The men closest to the entrance backed away, a few gasping in horror. She saw a few, both men and women, walk deeper into the room, some pressing themselves against her ball.

“He’s here.”

The steady murmur built up until it was cries that emanated from their lips, eyes frenzied, one man looking on the verge of tears. The Boss slowly appeared in front her of her, ruffled but no worse for wear.

He pushed a man forward, pressing the boy’s hand to the glass. She saw her prison melt away under his touch. She had not time to ask what was going on, why the boy’s eyes were glossy, he simply reached his hand out, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her deeper into the room.

“Scared?” she asked him with a smirk.

He didn’t answer. Even from the back of the cavernous room, she could hear the door rattling explosions. It wasn’t going to hold much longer and everyone in this space knew that.

“What time is it mister wolf?” she asked with a smile.

pairing: sylar/ofc, fandom: heroes, fic: dining on ashes, character: ofc, character: sylar, fanfic

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