Save Yourself
Title: Save Yourself
Fandom: Heroes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1813
Characters/Pairings: Maya/Sylar
Disclaimer: Don’t own.
Spoilers/Time Line: AU Vol. 2
Summery: Sylar is affected by the Shanti Virus and wants to die alone.
Author’s Notes: Was a part of something bigger, but I hacked it and here it is. unbeta'd that last time I posted heroes fic was in June of last year so ... that's my excuse.
PROMPT TABLES Un_love_you prompt #24 "I want you to hate me"
He was vomiting now. His stomach cramping up making him lurch up whatever he’d been lucky enough to get down in the first place. The sickness was progressing to a point of madness. Maya left to see if she could bring back something to help him. Something to make him a little more comfortable, but that had been hours ago or days Gabriel couldn’t tell. He’d lost track of time and that frightened him the most of all. Not dying, not ever being able to take another ability again, but this. And for the first time in many years he prayed.
Please God, not this. Don’t take this away from me.
He’d mercifully fallen asleep shortly after.
Someone was at the door. Their shadow skipped across the light that glinted on the thin shades, fluttering closer toward the door. He was sweating now, a very cold sweat that made him shiver despite the heat of the night. He crept along the wall, trying to quiet his coughs and keep from shaking too hard.
He licked his dry, cracked lips as the door began to open. As soon as the figure cleared the door, Gabriel attacked, slamming it into the dresser on the side, pressing it low.
“Didn’t you see the sign on the door?” he leaned over the figure and whispered dryly, tugging at its arms. “We’re all sick and shut in here.”
“Gabriel, stop it! It’s me!” Maya pushed back, but Gabriel held tighter pressing her cheek into the dresser, her feet lifted off the floor kicking. She grunted as he pushed her again, the sharp edge of dresser dug into her hips. He knotted his hand roughly in her hair yanking it and getting her ear closer to his sour mouth.
“Tell her she better run if she wants to live. Tell her to get away before it’s too late. Tell her I can’t control myself.”
“Gabriel, get off!”
Maya’s eyes welled up filling with the trademark Black Death and Gabriel’s grip on her waned and weakened. He jerked away from her like a man who had one too many. She stood, turning to look down at him as he fell backward, hitting his back against the wall. The blow cleared his mind.
“You must control yourself, Gabriel. You have to try.”
“Maya … I’m sorry.”
“You have to have control.” She repeated
“I’m sick, Maya. Just leave me.”
“I will not leave you! You’re all I have left, you have to try. Please, please don’t leave me alone. I cannot do this by myself.” she began to cry now. Gabriel’s head swirled and felt extremely heavy, but the sensation wilted as she began to pull back on it.
No, Sylar thought. If it needs to happen let it be this way.
“Stop being so pathetic, Maya, you don’t need anyone. You didn’t need your brother and that’s why you left him to die in the dirt.” He felt the power spike inside of him.
“Don’t say that! Stop it, Gabriel, it’s not true.”
“It’s true. All you do is use people for when it’s convent for you own selfish needs. You’re afraid to be alone. And that’s the only reason you think you need me. And I’ll tell you something, Maya, I’d rather die right here, alone, in this spot than be another body in your ruined bed.”
“Shut up!” She was shaking, an aura cast about from the street light behind the shade at her rear. The blackness surged up inside of him making him choke and he was sinking deeper.
Do it. Do it. Do it, Maya. Gabriel felt himself slipping in to darkness. He felt him self welcoming it.
*
Death wasn’t what he’d thought it’d be. There was no fire and brimstone. There weren’t any little demons poking him with pitchforks, it was just cool darkness. He found that he could breath quite nicely, the choking sensation was gone. And the coolness against his face was comforting. There was also a soft sound, a sound like murmuring. It relaxed him. So he felt nice enough to open his eyes. And marveled in the thought that he found that even in death he still had eyes. (Eyes that still needed glasses.)
His mouth was dry and his body ached, but it was a different kind of ache. The kind one gets when their body begins the processes of knitting its self back together. He groaned and turned over onto his side. Everything ached.
“Gracias a Dios. Idiota.” Maya said wiping him down with a damp cloth none too gently. She was in the middle of a torrent of Spanish, the sound of it running together like a roll in a stormy sky. To say the least he was confused and still in pain.
“What happened?” he asked. She replied with more angry Spanish as he tried to lift himself up on his elbows and he pushed him back down.
“Where do you think you are going? You are not that smart, pandejo.” He fell back ungracefully and was greeted by another string of unhappy Spanish. She stood suddenly throwing the cool wet rag she had been using on him into his face. It made a funny plopping noise when it came into contact. He sat up then as he removed the rag from his face. He got a good look at her backside just as the door to the bathroom slammed shut.
“Maya, Maya what happened?” he stood up from the bed and came to stand on astoundingly sturdy legs. He looked down at them unbelieving, even doing a bit of a jump or too to test out their strength.
He felt marvelous, even lifting up his shirt so see that his wound had healed a little more. The smell of rot was gone.
“You fixed me, Maya? Come out it’s a miracle.”
“What would you know about it? You were ready to die, and for what?!” There was a vicious bang on the door as if she had kicked it. He came closer to the door and could hear her crying through it. The sound of it made his heard sink.
“Maya, I’m sorry. I didn’t -- I wanted you to make a clean break from me. All I was doing was holding you back. You don’t need to forgive me - I don’t deserve it, either way- but I will say I‘m so very sorry. I didn’t mean those things I said.”
“You meant them or you wouldn’t have said them. You are better now, I did what I could. Go, why don’t you?! Leave like you want to.”
“I don’t want to leave, Maya. I’m afraid to be alone. Please! I need you. We need each other! To be strong for each other.”
“We? Now that it suits you? Get away from the door.” and he listened as her sobs worsened. He had the initial fear of being caught by her power but this time it was different. Her tears were just that. Tears.
“Maya. Something’s happened. Your power, I don’t feel it. What happened? Is something wrong?”
You broke her, you son of a bitch! There goes our change at taking that wonderful ability! Wasted, on what? He shook his head, resting it against the door with a soft thud. No, no that’s not what’s happened. She’s evolved. She’s moved on to the next step.
“Maya you healed me didn’t you? You healed me with your powers?”
“I don’t know what it was. You were dying, that’s all I knew. You were dying and trying to leave me alone and I couldn’t have that. I can’t do it, Gabriel. I can’t be alone.” he listened as the door unlatched, but didn’t open. He reached his hand out to touch the knob, but then changed his mind at the last moment and used it as an anchor, to help lower himself to the hotel room floor. He sat down and waited, waited for her to let him in.
“Tell me what happened?” He asked when he finally got his bearings.
“You were dying. You were dying and I was killing you!” Her voice was shaking with the effort to remain as calm as she could. It was a great effort, he knew. “And all I could think was ‘He’s going to die and then what? I’ll have no one. No I can not be alone. I can’t be alone.’ And - and there was this pull inside of me. And it was different then the other times with my powers. The poison was rushing out of me just like all the other time. But this time I found the leave inside and I pulled instead. I focused on that pull I wanted it. If you were going to die then I wanted it too.”
He gasped. Was she that frightened of being alone?
“You can heal.” He whispered after a long pause, rubbing his fingers up and down his all but fully healed wound. It itched. “You healed me.”
“And now you can leave. Like you wanted.”
“I didn’t want you to see me dying. I couldn’t take that. I wanted you angry at me when you left. I didn’t want you to have to be there when it happened.”
She twisted the knob, pulling it open a little. He fell back a bit before catching himself and looking up at her. Her face was tear-sodden, eyes bloodshot, hair; a bird’s nest, but to him she still looked beautiful. He stood up quickly and felt such an urge to wrap his arms around her. But she was wary of him, like a frightened, tired animal. She looked up into his eyes with such emotion he lowed his own gaze swiftly.
“Go wash up. I am feeling very tired and I don’t feel like being badgered right at this moment.”
“I’m sorry about what-
“Not now. You’re giving me a headache. And I need to lie down.” She slinked past him with barely a touch and he caught himself just before he leaned into to her. His mouth hanging opened with another sad excuse for an apology dangling in the air. Before he could speak she interrupted him.
“Gabriel …?” His mouth worked like a fish and she tried to gather himself up for a reply, but she didn’t let him. “If you ever talk that way about my brother again …sick or not … I will let you die. Do you understand me?”
And his mouth did go dry that time. He shut it promptly and offered her the only thing that was acceptable in that moment; a clumsy but forceful nod as he backed into the relative safety of the bathroom. The murkiness of her power licking at the back of him, making his hair stand on end. His hair and other things.