A Better World
Title: A Better World
Rating: PG-13/soft R
Prompt: Asleep - The Smiths
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Heroes is not owned by me, but by Tim Kring. I’m simply borrowing these characters for non-profit entertainment.
A/N: Written for raitheemohugger. Hope I did it some kind of justice.
~~
“Just let me die, Claire,” Sylar groaned as he brought a hand to clutch his side. He didn’t know why he was bothering trying to find a more comfortable position on the cement. He knew he would never be comfortable again.
Someone had finally done it. His karma for killing every victim had caught up with him. And just when things seemed to be going so well. He had always thought a bullet to the back of the head would be almost painless, but he had too many powers in addition to Claire’s. His body was trying to fight back, but still he knew he would die a slow and agonizing death tonight.
“No! There has to be something!” Claire cried as she looked down at her beaten and broken lover.
Tears streamed down her otherwise perfect face. Until now he had been the man to wipe them away but now he hardly had the strength to try.
“You know I deserve it,” he stated, his voice far too calm. Too resigned.
“No,” she sobbed. Claire had tried screaming for help, but there was no one who would come. Not in this run down, abandoned part of town. Claire had wanted to call for help, but Sylar had stopped her.
“Don’t be sorry, Claire. This world won’t miss me and I don’t think even we’re meant to live forever.”
He groaned again and she flinched. There was something so wrong about this. He had been her monster, she had nearly been his salvation and now here he laid dying she couldn’t do a thing to help him.
Neither could even be sure just who had gotten the lucky shot in. Some member of her father’s team? Peter? It didn’t matter right then. Whomever had done it had destroyed more than the villain.
“There’s another way -”
“Claire -”
“Fuck you. You killed me when I didn’t ask for it. Like it or not I’m saving your ass.”
“Cheerleader with a potty mouth,” he smirked before he began laugh. A laughter that was quickly cut off by Sylar beginning to cough.
When Claire saw the blood he was beginning to bring up her decision was made.
“I refuse to wake up alone tomorrow, there’s no such thing as a better world without you.” With that she found a tiny shard of glass just inches from them. She figured it was a leftover from some broken syringe. No matter, what had been used to further kill one would save another.
Too small to make a real slice into her flesh, she rubbed it furiously between her thumb and forefinger before bringing her palms together and letting the shard slice her hands, tearing every bit of skin, hoping for enough blood. Her only though next when she felt she had cut herself enough was just where to apply them. He certainly had enough wounds that weren’t healing right now, but which one would do them the most good?
“Claire,” he winced when she brought her hands to the back of his head. “Why do you want me to live?”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I love you,” was her only reply before she closed her eyes and prayed to whatever deity would hear her pleas.
Sylar wanted an end to his nightmare. He just wanted to sleep, to forget the pain he had caused. But at the same time, knowing Claire wanted him to live gave him some glimmer of hope that maybe the better world he was hoping for wouldn’t come with his death but with his fourth or fifth chance at life. He had lost count by now.
Several silent moments passed and finally he felt the bullet drop from his head to the ground behind him. The rest of his wounds quickly beginning to heal afterwards.
“Ready?” Claire asked as she glanced down to her own healed hands.
“For what?” he asked as he sat up.
“To go home? For me to prove to you that there is a better world right here, with me?”
Sylar smiled. That was hardly an offer he could, or would, turn down.
The End
Rating: PG-13/soft R
Prompt: Asleep - The Smiths
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Heroes is not owned by me, but by Tim Kring. I’m simply borrowing these characters for non-profit entertainment.
A/N: Written for raitheemohugger. Hope I did it some kind of justice.
~~
“Just let me die, Claire,” Sylar groaned as he brought a hand to clutch his side. He didn’t know why he was bothering trying to find a more comfortable position on the cement. He knew he would never be comfortable again.
Someone had finally done it. His karma for killing every victim had caught up with him. And just when things seemed to be going so well. He had always thought a bullet to the back of the head would be almost painless, but he had too many powers in addition to Claire’s. His body was trying to fight back, but still he knew he would die a slow and agonizing death tonight.
“No! There has to be something!” Claire cried as she looked down at her beaten and broken lover.
Tears streamed down her otherwise perfect face. Until now he had been the man to wipe them away but now he hardly had the strength to try.
“You know I deserve it,” he stated, his voice far too calm. Too resigned.
“No,” she sobbed. Claire had tried screaming for help, but there was no one who would come. Not in this run down, abandoned part of town. Claire had wanted to call for help, but Sylar had stopped her.
“Don’t be sorry, Claire. This world won’t miss me and I don’t think even we’re meant to live forever.”
He groaned again and she flinched. There was something so wrong about this. He had been her monster, she had nearly been his salvation and now here he laid dying she couldn’t do a thing to help him.
Neither could even be sure just who had gotten the lucky shot in. Some member of her father’s team? Peter? It didn’t matter right then. Whomever had done it had destroyed more than the villain.
“There’s another way -”
“Claire -”
“Fuck you. You killed me when I didn’t ask for it. Like it or not I’m saving your ass.”
“Cheerleader with a potty mouth,” he smirked before he began laugh. A laughter that was quickly cut off by Sylar beginning to cough.
When Claire saw the blood he was beginning to bring up her decision was made.
“I refuse to wake up alone tomorrow, there’s no such thing as a better world without you.” With that she found a tiny shard of glass just inches from them. She figured it was a leftover from some broken syringe. No matter, what had been used to further kill one would save another.
Too small to make a real slice into her flesh, she rubbed it furiously between her thumb and forefinger before bringing her palms together and letting the shard slice her hands, tearing every bit of skin, hoping for enough blood. Her only though next when she felt she had cut herself enough was just where to apply them. He certainly had enough wounds that weren’t healing right now, but which one would do them the most good?
“Claire,” he winced when she brought her hands to the back of his head. “Why do you want me to live?”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I love you,” was her only reply before she closed her eyes and prayed to whatever deity would hear her pleas.
Sylar wanted an end to his nightmare. He just wanted to sleep, to forget the pain he had caused. But at the same time, knowing Claire wanted him to live gave him some glimmer of hope that maybe the better world he was hoping for wouldn’t come with his death but with his fourth or fifth chance at life. He had lost count by now.
Several silent moments passed and finally he felt the bullet drop from his head to the ground behind him. The rest of his wounds quickly beginning to heal afterwards.
“Ready?” Claire asked as she glanced down to her own healed hands.
“For what?” he asked as he sat up.
“To go home? For me to prove to you that there is a better world right here, with me?”
Sylar smiled. That was hardly an offer he could, or would, turn down.
The End