Fanfiction: Heroes: Point Of It All (Chapter 4 )
This is to a girl who got into my head
With all these pretty things she did
Hey Baby, You know that you keep me up in bed
It's to a girl who got into my head
With all the fucked up things I did
Hey maybe baby, you could keep me up in bed
-“Konstantine” Something Corporate
It was late at night, probably three or four in the morning, and for the life of him, Sylar couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was Elle bleeding and then bursting into flames. He had tried to push away his guilt over killing her, distance himself from such emotions, but now that she was back in his life, alive and with missing memories, it was harder. She was there with her grins and laughs, playful looks and he wondered how he could even think he could live without them. She made him weak. After the third or fourth time he had that flashback of blood and fire, he pushed himself out of the bed, carefully making his way to the guest room he had made her sleep in.
She was curled up under the covers, her blonde hair fanned over the pillow as her chest rose and fell with each breathe. When she was asleep like this, Elle looked almost innocent in a way, and Sylar had to not so gently remind herself that she was anything but innocent. This woman had tricked him into becoming the monster he was now, played with people for fun, and had killed people before for less reason than he ever had. She was dangerous and unstable, and it would be in his best interest to just leave her here and move on by himself. She’d probably come after him though, angry and vengeful. Besides which, he had left her behind once already, he really didn’t think he’d be able to do so again.
He could hear her breathe become more shallow as she shifted in the bed now. He wondered what kind of dream she was having, if it was something good or something horrible. Did she ever have nightmares about what he did to her father? He wouldn’t blame her if she did. Like Bennet had said, she had created him, and he murdered her father, and no matter what either of them did, nothing was going to change those facts. Could they really work past it?
“Gabriel,” She moaned out softly bucking against the bed a little, causing his body to suddenly stiffen in surprise. He didn’t know what shocked him more that she was having that sort of dream about him, or that she was using his old name. Didn’t she know that the shy, bumbling watchmaker she had once known was long ago? Whatever had been left of Gabriel had died with her. Besides, if she could remember what he had done to her, he doubted she would want him anymore.
He couldn’t help but wonder if going after the healer was a good idea. On the one hand, it might help him fix whatever tampered with her brain, but on the other hand, he wasn’t sure if she wanted her to remember now. He liked having her by his side, and if she knew he killed her, she would leave, he was almost positive about that. But didn’t she deserve the truth? Besides, he wanted to know who had revived her and dropped her off with him. Someone had gone out of their way to do this, to try to trap him, or something, and he wanted to know who.
Elle shifted in her bed again, her head titling back as she bit her lip, and suddenly, all his other thoughts and worries were forgotten as she heard the soft, almost desperate cry, “Gabriel, please.” He wanted to go over and wake her up, to answer her calls and take her again and again until there was nothing left. He wanted to bruise her, mark her, and let her know that no one else could have her, but none of that seemed right now. Even if she was alive and still wanted him, he didn’t deserve a second chance with her.
So when she moaned out again he turned and made his way out of the room before he did something he knew he would later regret. He would be lying if he said hearing her call out for him like that hadn’t had an effect on him though.
He made his way back into the master bedroom closing the door behind him before making his way to the bed, ridding himself of his boxers rather quickly before getting ontop of the covers. He grabbed his erect member, stroking it as he thought of that image of her thrashing in her bed, calling out for him. He groaned softly picturing her blonde hair sprawled out beneath her as he pinned her to the bed. He would take more time if given a second chance, teasing her, making her come again and again, unlike the hurried love making they had made in the Canfield house. He would thrust into her, kiss her, mark her, make her his. There was so many things he wanted to do to her, his mind had no problem coming up with images as he pumped his hand around his erection again and again.
And then he saw her beneath him, arching her back to press closer to him as she came, sending sparks down his body as she did so, and with that final image he shuddered, reaching his own climax now. His breaths were soft and shallow as he grabbed a tissue and began to clean himself up before climbing under the covers. He couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted someone or something so badly (other than powers, he always wanted those badly). But it was too late now, and even if he couldn’t kill her a second time like he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t have her again either.
So he would take the power of that healer and fix her, his last gift to her. And then she would leave, and he would be alone, with no more weaknesses to distract him from his mission. After all, gathering new powers to help in his search for his real parents was more important than anything else, right?
Somehow, he wasn’t as sure as he’d like to be.