Bohemian Rhapsody
Title: Bohemian Rhapsody
Fandom: Heroes
Author: Meli Parker
Word Count: 1615 (including song lyrics)
Rating: PG-13
Characters and Pairing: Peter, Sylar, Mentions of Nathan and Heidi
Warnings: Character Death and Going Bad
Spoilers: If you've seen the show and you know who Sylar, Peter and Nathan are, you'll be good.
Summary: He was broken, but there was something else. Like he had tried to fix it or...but there was something else; something worse than a simple fix.
Notes: Sequel to Darkness. I like writting these dark angsty fics (which can be considered frightening. I think I'm going to write a happy story next). I also revolved the entire story around the greatest song ever written (Which I've never done before). I'm trying new things! It's mad innit. Un-betaed so any mistakes are my own. Enjoy!
Read Darkness: Part 1 Part 2
Bohemian Rhapsody
Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality…
I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy. Because of easy come, easy go…
Anyway the wind blows…Doesn’t really matter to me…
Mama, just killed a man. Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger now he’s dead…
Mama, life had just begun, but now I’ve gone and thrown it all away…Didn’t mean to make you cry, if I’m not back again this time tomorrow…
Nothing really matters…
I woke up that night in a panic. Was I dreaming? Was it real? What was happening to me! The phone rang. I picked it up shakily. “H-hello?” I asked breathing heavily.
“Peter! Peter!” she was crying on the other line.
“Heidi?” I asked unsure.
“He’s…Oh G-d! Peter!” She continued to cry into the phone. I wasn’t sure why, but I asked her the obvious question.
“Heidi what’s wrong?” It was a stupid question. I knew what had happened…I just, didn’t want to believe it.
“He’s dead Peter!” she sobbed into the phone. “He’s dead! Nathan!” She cried again. “He took his brain! Oh G-d!” I dropped the phone. It fell with a loud thud to the wood floors below. This couldn’t be happening. It just…it just couldn’t!
Mama, life had just begun.
Was it me? Did I kill him? No…it couldn’t be me! I refused to believe that I killed him. It was him! It was a dream. It wasn’t real. Dreams are dreams! Oh wait, not for me. I yelled out into my empty apartment. “Mama! Ooo, I don’t wanna die, I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all!” I didn’t want to believe this. I wanted to wake up. G-d! Why can’t I wake up!? It was him, not me! Please! Can I wake up now!?
I see a little silhouette-o of a man…Thunderbolt of lightening very very frightening me.
I’ve never quite understood the feeling of being followed, but I felt the sensation that day. It was odd. Usually I did the stalking; it was strange to feel what they feel. What those I follow and kill feel. I continued to walk down the crowded street keeping low and inconspicuous. Still, he followed, never leaving. I saw an alley up a head. Quickly I moved to it, but he was waiting for me when I got there.
I’m just a poor boy nobody loves me…He’s just a poor boy from a poor family…Easy come, easy go. Will you let me go?
“Who are you!?” he yelled at me. “What did you do to me?” My eyebrow rose in confusion. I didn’t think I had ever seen this man before in my life. His dark hair moved wildly down his face in a complete contrast to the stark whiteness of his skin. And his eyes: they were paranoid, wild, and bloodshot. I could only think, this man must be a crack addict. Then I looked at him closer. I saw his brain, I saw how it worked. He was broken, but there was something else. Like he had tried to fix it or…but there was something else; something worse than a simple fix. He closed his eyes in pain, grabbed his head and fell into the cold brick wall behind him. “Stop it! Don’t look at me that way?”
“What way?” I asked simply.
“I know what you’re doing to me, stop it!” He seemed in pain as he yelled at me. I was taken aback. Although I myself was rather crazy, eccentric and genius, I had never believed that I would be stalked by another madman. It was an incredibly odd feeling. The man’s red eyes opened slowly and he looked at me again wildly. “What did you do last night?” he asked me. It was a personal question. For some reason, I complied with the madman.
“Nothing,” I said. “I was at home.” I lied. I wasn’t at home the night before. He took out a picture.
“Did you kill him last night?” he asked me holding up the picture. It was of the new Congressman. His million dollar smile lit up the picture. I smiled a little at the photo. He was special. Very special - and he was on my list.
“The congressman, why?”
“Just tell me! Did you murder him last night!?” He was screaming at me again.
“No.” The man fell to the ground, his back sliding against the red bricks. His dark trench coat slid into the dirty New York water on the concrete below. Immediately, he pulled his legs towards him and wrapped his arms around them. There he sat in the fetal position like a man in an asylum.
“Liar,” he said looking up at me. “He was killed in the way you kill people! You took his brain! You killed him and then you took him!” I looked at the man again and saw the quick fix. It wasn’t a quick fix. It was another person in there. He had killed this congressman and taken his brain. He had done what I do. It frightened me a little bit, but still I smirked as I leaned down next to him.
“No. I didn’t kill him. You killed him Peter,” I said. He looked up at me with anger in his eyes.
“You made me do this didn’t you? You came to me in my dreams and told me to do this! You made me you didn’t you? It’s all part of your sick twisted plan isn’t it?!” I came to him in his dreams? Now I knew he was mad. I had no ability to enter one’s dreams. I told him so. Still he spat at me with anger and angst.
We will not let you go…Let him go…We will not let you go…Let him go…We will not let him go…Let him go…Let me go! No No!
“Then how come I was thinking like you!? I wasn’t thinking! I wasn’t me! I was you!” This was defiantly odd. I never knew I could turn people into murderers. Maybe there was something very special about this man.
“I think it was you Peter. I think you’re trying to blame this on me, even though it’s clearly you who murdered him.”
“Shut up! You’re lying!” he yelled.
“Nathan Petrelli is the reason I’m in New York Peter…but, you got to him first.” I said that last line matter-o-factly. It made him angrier. I smirked. This was kind of fun, torturing this poor mad man who so clearly believed that I had killed his brother. He looked up at me with red eyes.
“No,” he said.
“He was next on my list,” I said still smirking. “You must have figured that out and gotten a bit jealous that soon I would have his power, but you wanted it. You wanted it more than anything. You couldn’t let me get it…only you could have it.”
“No…” he said again. “No!”
“Then why’d you take it Peter? Why would you do that if you didn’t want it?” He looked away from me and closed his eyes. My smirk stayed on my face as I watched him ponder the murder.
“He - he wanted me to…fix him,” he said quietly. “He told me so.”
“Did he really?”
“Yes. He always fixed everything for me. I had to fix him because he always did for me. I had to for him.”
“You can keep telling yourself that, but you know it isn’t true. You wanted it. You hungered for it just like I do.” My gaze was dark and cold as I looked at him and told him the truth. This man though, wouldn’t hear any of it.
“No, no I didn’t! I would never do that…never!” He seemed to loose all thought and began to stare up at the sky. I smirked at him.
“I can fix you Peter. I can fix you so you never do anything like this again.” He looked at me sternly.
“I don’t want you to fix me like that,” he said coldly. He began to stand up. “Stay away from me Sylar.” He began walking backwards down the alley. “Stay away.” I followed him smirking the entire time.
So you think you stop me and spit in my eye. So you think you can love me and leave me to die?...Can’t you listen to me baby?
“You’re the one who found me Peter.” A noise caught my attention. I looked at his wrist. Sitting there was an old watch. My smirk became a smile. “I can fix that.”
“No, I wont let you fix me! Not like that!” His paranoia continued to grow.
“I don’t mean you…I mean your watch.” It was odd. I hadn’t wanted to fix one of those in months, but for some reason, I needed to fix that watch. I still don’t know why, but it was calling out to me. It needed to be fixed. He looked down at his wrist and then looked at me confused.
I just gotta get out. Just gotta get right out of here!
“What do you mean?” I continued to smile. There was something so beautiful about the way the broken watch was ticking away the hours.
“It’s slow…” I said reaching out for it. Suddenly, all I saw was black. My body struggled to stay vertical. I began falling; falling to the cold concrete below. I heard his voice the second before I hit.
“I’m sorry Sylar,” he said coldly. “But now you need to be fixed.”
Nothing really matters. Anyone can see. Nothin’ really matters, nothing matters to me…Anyway the wind blows…