Title: Seventy Times Seven
Characters: Gabriel/Elle
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Gabriel's thoughts as he cleans up Trevor's blood from his apartment.
Author's Note: Written for the "Broken" prompt for 100heroesfic
Gabriel, no, he was Sylar now, he could never be Gabriel again, Sylar began washing up the blood left on his walls, having just come back from getting rid of Trevor's body. No matter how he tried to shake it from his mind, the events of the last few days kept playing over and over in his head.
You are special, Gabriel, you're special just the way you are.
He felt like such a fool for believing her. He should have seen it coming? How could he have not seen it? She had seemed so sweet, so innocent, but now he was sure she was the devil's incarnate. Her smiles, her words: every one of them a lie.
He got out his cleaning supplies and kneeled down on the ground, pulling on his gloves. He pulled on a pair of gloves as he began to work at the blood stains.
Isn't that so special? Let's see it again.
His blood practically boiled as he thought about it: her slinging around words like weapons, each one ensnaring his heart. She had used his weakness against him. She had lied and laughed, and acted like it was all a game. And then had the nerve to try to stop him, when she was the one who led him back into sin to begin with.
The rope broke. You can't tell me that's not a sign.
She had made it sound like a miracle. Like God had spared him to give him a chance to redeem himself. Assuming there was a God at all. How could people like her exist in a world where people were supposed to be shaped in God's image? It didn't make sense. Maybe his mother had been wrong. Maybe there was no God. Mankind was left to fend for itself. Natural selection. Survival of the fittest. Sylar would play his part in evolution yet. Deciding who was worthy to live and who wasn't. Who needed to believe in God or pretty blonde angels when it was so much easier just to believe in yourself. Less painful. Less risky.
You don't have to do this.
And then the truth came out. She had made the rope break with her powers. She had set him up from the beginning. The only thing he couldn't figure out was why. Why had she done it? What was she gaining from making him kill? It didn't make any sense.
Forgive me.
He had been so eager. So desperate to be fixed, to be saved. He had failed to see how broken she had been. Broken and twisted. But he could fix it. He would find her someday, and he would kill her. Rip open her pretty little blonde head and take away her power. Someone like her didn't deserve something like that. Even death was too good for her.
I think it's important for you to get to know people like yourself.
If only she knew how well he would get to know them. There was nothing more intimate than examining someone's brain. Taking it apart to see how they work. To see what makes them tick.
Gabriel, isn't that special?
The blood was almost all up, and the smell of bleach burned his nose. Trevor wasn't special anymore, he had seen to that. As he wiped away the last of it, a smirk spread across his lips and he stood up, looking to a snow globe his mother had given him a few years back for Christmas. He pulled his hand into a gun and pulled down his thumb against the invisible trigger. His eyes lit up at the glass shattered into a million pieces. The water snow and glass fell onto the ground, soaking the carpet. He would clean it later. For now he had other things to do.
Things were broken, but he could fix them. And someday, he would fix her. For good. He could see it in his head so perfectly: her on the ground, begging for mercy, her hair haloing her face, once again giving her the appearance of an angel. Perhaps he would chop her hair off first, expose her for what she really was. So the whole world could see.
Broken angels didn't deserve to fly.