Title: Fallen one

Chapter 1: Fallen from Grace
rating: R

Word count: 1,417
Summary: he was numb before she hit the floor

Spoilers: throughout 1x1-1x21 "the Hard Part"/ AU from there
Warnings: slight gore, blunt hints to murder, eventual slash

A.N. - To save you all confusion, Sylar can't be heard aloud, Gabriel can. over here September is cooler than usual so I'm using climate for MA for NY.

Wrier:(sticks tongue out(

For the first time in almost a year Sylar released his hold on poor Gabriel Gray only to send him into a hell like no other.That, that...Abomination forced him to kill his own mother.

He sat there on his knees, looking somewhat like a lost child. It was too much- memories of what he'd been forced to do plagued his mind; her last words still lingered, echoing in his mind. "Gabriel."


 "Gabriel." This time it was Sylar who'd said his name, deep in his mind. Gabriel despised the voice; how it was a crude mirror of his own.

"Look at what you've done" his voice sneered condescendingly. Gabe covered his ears, it wasn't his fault; he'd had no control over himself.

"You should have, it's all your fault!"

He shook his head; it wasn't his fault...was it? No! Sylar was profound when it came to mind games; he knew how his mind worked to cause the most damage.

"No, it wasn't my fault!" the timid man screamed into the empty room. Oh why had she named him Gabriel, he was anything but heavenly- and surely no angel would fall this far from grace, he hadn't asked to become the angel of death.

"She's dead because of you, you killed her. Her blood is on your hands- It's all your fault!" The voice persisted.

Gabriel clutched his head tighter in hopes to block out the images that played before his eyes of the wretched, grotesque things he's been forced to do- the people he's killed; Brian, that child's family,the waitress, Zane, Dale, the painter and so many more nameless faces... Blood poured from the open skulls forming a sort of macabre waterfall. Each face contorted in pure pain and agony. He tried so hard to keep the contents of his stomach down only to fail as the final picture showed behind his closed eyes- his mother's bloody decapitated corpse laying there- eyes blank as dolls eyes. Those eyes bore into him almost accusingly in their blank state.

His chestnut eyes shot open abruptly, blinking blearily in the absence of contacts or glasses; though the images had been so crisp in his mind. His old glasses had long since fallen when he'd... oh God... No, he had to get out. He grasped around for his glasses after seeing the blurry form of his frames; only to toss them away as he felt the still warm blood on the lens. Sylar let out a maniacal laugh at his dare he say 'weaker half's' outburst.

Gabriel, on the other hand; had to get out of the apartment- it was beginning to suffocate him. The walls and other once distinguished forms were now blurring together; trapping him inside. He glanced frantically attempting to pin point where the door was...there. Gabe scrambled to his feet, running blindly while trying to avoid the corpse of Virginia Gray.

He stumbled up the stairs, astonishingly making it up three flights before tripping on the first few steps of the fourth floor. He opened his eyes, slightly dizzy from the fall; the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. Dumbfounded, he lifted a hand to his lip; teeth nearly bit clean through. He tumbled to his feet hastily, wiping the blood the sleeve of his black blazer, he took off again.

He managed up the last three flights without accident and pushed himself through the roof door. A cold September chill struck him full force as he stared blankly from the dull rooftop. A thought struck him suddenly; He could end it all here. He wandered to the edge of the roof, with surprising grace for one with vision as bad as his. Yes, it would be easy- quick and painless if he missed the fire escape; a seven story fall. And if he landed just right no one would be able to do anything to help him-like he deserved. He took another step; yes, it would be easy.

"you don't have the guts; besides what would your mother think?"

His whole world seemed to crash before him with that one line. He didn't deserve to live, couldn't bring himself to take his own life; she wouldn't want that, no matter what. He took a few clumsy steps back before falling to his knees, finally taking a breath he'd forgotten to take before the tears began to fall. What started out as quiet tears quickly elevated to deep pain racked sobs. For a while he stayed like that, hunched over as blood and tears mingled on the concrete surface below him.

After what seemed like forever, the tears finally dissipated and Gabriel felt drained; physically, mentally, and emotionally. And that accursed voice in the back of his head kept chanting "You're pathetic." insistently.

"I may be pathetic, but I can end this; I can get rid of you." He said to the empty rooftop as he scrambled to his feet again, His voice gravelly from crying. That malignant voice in his head was finally silent as he reached into the pocket of his tan slacks and fished out his cell phone. Gabe began to dial out a number only to stop halfway; what if he wouldn't listen?

Mohinder had plenty of reasons to not listen to him. After all, he was a murderer. What the hell; he dialed the last few digits and waited. Moments passed before the call was answered; Gabriel took a deep breath.

"Hello?" a well toned accent chimed, he hadn't realized how much he missed that voice. Gabriel swallowed hard, how could he really ask him for anything? He'd killed the man's father for God's sake.

"Hello?"

"This was a pointless idea; did you really think he'd help you of all people?" Sylar sneered; ending his silence. A sudden Fatigue seemed to ebb away at the poor watchmaker; at that moment all Gabriel wanted to do was go to sleep one way or another- hoping it was all just a macabre dream.

"Mohinder." His voice was still hoarse from crying, he wiped away the blood that trailed down his chin.

"Who is this?" the Indian questioned, though it sounded like he knew who Gabriel was. Gabriel cleared his throat before trying again, shivering from the cold.

"I can't control it" he choked out.

"Can't control what? Who is this?" the voice sounded agitated, but Sylar could hear his elevated heartbeat over the phone, Gabriel could not, Mohinder was fully away of whom he was, not Gabriel. Gabriel licked his lips, wincing as his tongue met the are he'd nearly bit through, unable to hold back a slight hiss of pain.

"I...He... killed her, Mohinder. I killed my own mother!" He forced the bile back down his throat, and willed his legs to hold him up, new tears found their way into his eyes. A gasp on the other side of the phone, did he finally know?

"Sylar?" Why did he feel disappointed to not hear his true name from this man?

"No, Not Sylar now, this is Gabriel." Darkness seemed to fill his vision as the events of the day finally took their toll on the poor watchmaker.

"Where are you?" His eyes began to droop; he didn't even hear the question.

"I'm tired Mohinder, so tired." His voice was thick and slurred.

"Sy-Gabriel, tell me where you are." His voice sounded so distant now. Gabriel found himself relying solely on will power alone to murmur "189 forty-eight Ave, L.I.C." as the roof came crashing towards him. The cell hit the ground landing near the unconscious man.

"Sy-Gabriel. Gabriel? Are you there? Gabriel!"

Ok so I made him be in Queens happier peoples (yes, Long Island City is in Queens i looked it up), got a lot of private messages correcting me, dude I'm a sixteen year old from Massachusetts, I dunno New York. We're rivals with NY jk lol