Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.
BEFORE READING… know that this was set in Eris Quod Sum in season three when Sylar throws Peter out the window of Pinehearst… oh, fond times… XD
Gabriel Gray didn't know when he lost his ability to be gentle.
But he knew it was lost within his body and he'd have to dig pretty deeply to get it back. A couple of years, even months ago, Gabriel would have wanted to bury his childlike instinct to be tender because it would interfere with his second nature instinct; killing. But now, Gabriel wanted to remember the feeling of gratitude and care for the sake of his brother that was lying on the pavement multiple floors down.
He had forgotten what it felt like to be careful, which is probably why Peter Petrelli's wounds were as bad as they were. If he had remembered what it felt like, Peter would have floated out the window as lightly as a feather.
But the bottom line was that he was alive.
Arthur peered out of the window with elegantly raised eyebrows, "Funny how he survived that fall, isn't it?"
Gabriel finally joined his father at the window and stared out of it. There was no Peter-like shape on the pavement. There was no Peter-like dent in the pavement. For a fleeting moment Gabriel thought that Peter had regenerated and then upped and left, but the lack of blood made that idea seem fairly impossible. That's when Gabriel's eyes hit the bushes only a few feet from the pavement.
"Are those – uh, thorn bushes?" he asked his father. Arthur slowly turned to face him, curtly shaking his head.
"Interesting that you should ask."
Gabriel did not find it interesting. It was vaguely terrifying to imagine Peter limping around the sidewalk outlining the Pinehearst building with thorns sticking through every inch of skin almost as though he'd been stung by a thousand cantankerous bees. Back at Kirby Plaza and at Homecoming the thought of Peter bearing piercing greenery was what filled Gabriel's dreams, but that was still when he was still Sylar. Sylar didn't have a brother. Gabriel did.
Gabriel watched as his father stared at him as though he was trying to x-ray through his head. He hoped that Arthur wasn't trying to read his mind; who knew what abilities he had stolen?
"Gabriel," Arthur began, "your brother is dead. But don't worry, you still have another one."
Gabriel had almost completely forgotten about Nathan. At the moment, he didn't care about Nathan. He needed to see if he could salvage any of Peter's wounds before he bled to death. If Peter lost his life in such a disgraceful way, Gabriel knew he wouldn't be able to blame Sylar for any of it anymore. The burden was lying on his shoulder like a dozen dumbbells.
"Dad," he said. Arthur turned to look at him.
I couldn't leave without you.
That was Peter. Always selfless, always considerate, always trusting.
"I'm sorry." Gabriel forced out.
I couldn't leave without you.
"I have to go."
I couldn't leave without you.
Arthur didn't miss a beat, "If this is about Peter–"
"I have to go." Gabriel repeated firmly, and swiftly turned to the door before Arthur found unconventional ways to stop him. Telekinetically closing the door behind him, Gabriel headed to the staircase. He thumped down the steps noisily, attracting the attention of passerby as he ran out the front door and scanned the pavements for bodies. Mangled bones, crimson blood, bits of skin, even the slightest signs of life was what Gabriel's eyes were focusing on.
It was what he found that startled him to his core.
Claire Bennet was crouching by a pack of shrubs, helping a badly injured Peter hobble up from a jagged bush. This time, Gabriel saw the Peter-like dent in the greenery.
"Oh god, Peter." He muttered, hurrying toward the pair. Claire gasped at the intruder, immediately reaching for weapons hidden away in her clothing.
"Sylar!"
"No, Claire!" Peter grabbed Claire's wrist firmly, his other hand holding the gash in his stomach to support his upright position. "He's on the right side! If you're against him, you're on the wrong one!"
Claire's eyes widened to the size of tree trunks.
"Peter, what are you saying?"
"The truth!" Gabriel piped in indignantly, grabbing to wrap an arm around Peter's other side. Claire knitted her eyebrows together and stared in disbelief as Peter leant against Sylar's sturdy chest for help.
"I'm sorry for throwing you out the window." Gabriel apologized hastily. Peter grimaced in reminiscence before he shook his head meekly to brush off the apology.
"You threw him out a window?" Claire repeated incredulously.
"Is – is Dad following you?"
Gabriel shook his head, his grip on Peter's waist tightening considerably as he felt his brother slip as he hobbled around like a newborn deer.
"We'll clean you up, Peter, everything'll be all right–"
"You don't have to do this, Sylar–" Peter began, his eyes half-lidded from the pain.
"It's Gabriel." Gabriel couldn't help but snap. Claire watched the entire thing unravel before her eyes as though she was watching a nuclear massacre.
Settling Peter onto a path of dirt at the side of Pinehearst, Sylar reached for the napkins he always had folded in his pocket.
"I've always thought I could… mess you up. Cause it was fun. And cause you would heal. Now I'm just sorry." Gabriel told the half-conscious dark haired man.
Peter's head was already lolling sleepily on his shoulder as Gabriel wrapped up the majority of his wounds and scars. Gabriel heaved a sigh as he stared at what damage he had accomplished by throwing his brother out a building. He had promised Angela that he would save Peter, not almost kill Peter. Gabriel had always been a disappointment to his parents, whether they were watchmakers and bible-thumpers like the Grays or competitors fighting for power like the Petrellis. He let his fingers wander up to brush away Peter's bangs from his forehead as he cradled his head in his lap.
"Is he – going to be okay?" Claire asked uneasily.
"It's all right, Claire," Gabriel nodded to the blonde girl reassuringly, "he's in good hands." To emphasize his statement, Gabriel patted Peter's side and tugged him closer to the warmth of his chest.
Claire wavered awkwardly on the spot. "Are you sure?"
"I'm not the same person I was when you last saw me." He told her finally. "Now go. I don't think you came here to play nurse to Peter."
Claire finally shook her head no and dashed off into Pinehearst.
There was a certain amount of innocence and undisturbed peace gracing Peter's features. There wasn't a worried wrinkle tainting Peter's skin or a glimmer of discontentment as he lay limply in Gabriel's arms. It soothed Gabriel's pounding heart by at least a few beats to feel the pulse on Peter's wrist pressed against his thumb.
---
"Peter? Peter? You back on earth yet?"
Someone was being much too loud. Peter tilted his head away from the noise, furrowing his eyebrows and creating a deep, dissatisfied crease in his forehead.
"Nathan…?" he ventured to mumble.
Someone chuckled dryly, "It's only Gabriel."
"Gabriel?" Peter rubbed at his eyes, feeling a throbbing and slashing pain digging deep into his sides and stomach. And his leg. And his arm. And everywhere that possessed skin.
"You okay?"
Peter finally pried open his eyes, his pupils focusing in on the surroundings. Gabriel, sitting on the side of the bed, and heavy linens were the first things he noticed. Peter was tucked in with sheets all the way to his chest, bandages lining his arms. It was like he sitting on a blindingly white cloud.
"What happened?"
"Remember the window?" Gabriel asked, "Don't try and sit up, you have enough wounds as it is."
"Gabriel, stop mothering me!" Peter snapped feebly, swatting away the other man's hands. Gabriel paid no attention.
"I'm sorry for doing this to you," Gabriel murmured, "I throw you off of buildings too much. Homecoming, now Pinehearst… and the incident with the glass. The incident at Kirby Plaza. We haven't really been the best of friends, Peter."
"That's because you tried to kill me. About fourteen times, by now." Peter barked. Gabriel chuckled, noticing how cranky his brother became when he was injured.
"It won't happen again." He finally told him with a faint smile.
Peter sighed. "Gabriel," he challenged, "who paid you to be nice to me? Was it Dad? Mom?"
"Why is it so hard for you to believe that I've changed?"
"Because… I trust people too easily these days. And you did try to kill me. Lots of times," Peter reasoned logically, "and now… you've saved my life. And now you're being kind to me. Uncharacteristically kind."
Sylar chuckled. "Because you're my brother, Peter. And that's what–"
"That's not what this is about," Peter shook his head, "This is not about us being brothers, this is because… because… I don't know why, but there's a reason."
Sylar did not find the inquiries questioning his kindness and lack of murder amusing in any sort of way. He rolled his eyes as Peter rambled on before firmly straddling his hips. Peter ceased talking immediately.
"What the hell, Gabriel, get off of me!"
"You were right, Peter." Gabriel nodded, "I never did care that we were brothers." And without waiting for Peter to respond, Gabriel grabbed the other man's wrists and pinned them over his head before pressing their lips together hungrily.
"Mmph!" Peter mumbled, struggling against Gabriel's firm hold on his wrists fruitlessly. There were so many things wrong with this equation. For one, they were both male, for another, they were brothers, and lastly, Gabriel Gray was Sylar wrapped in a sweeter package. A murderer that had killed him before, tortured him, punched him, kicked him, thrown him off of buildings, tormented him, and a million more.
Gabriel didn't mind the resistance and reluctance into the kiss. He was careful not to crush Peter's chest wounds as he gently lowered himself onto his body and wrapped one arm protectively around his waist. The other hand wound its way into Peter's hair, stringy with blood and unwashed from being held captive, but still smooth under Gabriel's touch. He moved a hair's breath away from Peter's mouth before capturing his lips once again, even firmer this time. He ran his tongue teasingly along Peter's lips, silently begging for entrance, which Peter complied to. The kiss deepened as Peter finally began to respond to the touches and despite his injuries, gripped at the shirt on Gabriel's back and pulled him even closer.
When they finally pulled apart, Peter avoided Gabriel's gaze and panted breathlessly at the wall.
"What the hell's the matter with you?" he gasped, fixedly staring at the mattress, "do you fool around with all of your siblings like this?"
Gabriel laughed huskily, "Why, you worried I'm going to leave you for Nathan?"
Peter's eyes widened, "Oh god, Nathan!" he hadn't even thought about his brother as he had played tonsil tango with Gabriel, who was still resting comfortably on his chest and nipping at the skin at his chin and neck. There was no way he would approve of this relationship, let alone understand it.
"It's Gabriel, Peter, not Nathan." Gabriel whispered, his voice honey-coated as he kissed him once more. Peter's eyes almost rolled into the back of his head.
"This is insane, Gabriel."
"So am I."
"But Gabriel–"
"There's always some reason in insanity, Peter," he taunted, his breath hot on his brother's ear, "why don't you just give in already?"
"Nnngh." Peter fought meekly, shutting his eyes as he clawed at the hands attached to his hips. "Don't make me – don't make me–" his threats were unbelievably hollow, and Gabriel, fully aware of that fact, chuckled.
"It's time like these when I'm glad that Dad took away your abilities."
"Since when am I your fucking boytoy?!" Peter demanded, digging the heels of his feet into the sheets.
"Not boytoy, Peter," Gabriel corrected, smirking, "and I decided that a few minutes ago."
"And it's your right to decide?!"
"Believe me, in a few minutes, you'll be agreeing with me." Gabriel taunted.
"Is that a threat?"
"If you want it to be."
AN: Perhaps it's a little Reluctant!Peter, but he'll come around… who could resist such a man like Sylar? XD This is a Christmas present for Tommy, so MERRY CHRISTMAS, my insane friend. This is for you, just like you asked for it…