Warnings: Mentions sex, rape, and has bad language.

Disclaimer: This is me with the non ownage.


Absolution

The first time he fucked her, he wore Peter's face. She cried the whole time but couldn't stop her body from reacting, couldn't stop the way his name fell from her lips over and over again, her eternal act of contrition.

He never wore his own face. Sometimes it was Nathan, sometimes her father... but mostly, it was Peter. It killed her every time he ripped another orgasm from her. Her uncle's memory was ashes now and she wore them on her forehead despite the fact that it wasn't Wednesday and never would be again.

He waited for her to go as mad as he was and all she saw in him was the shattered reflection of herself. And when she laughed at him as he approached her in Peter's skin, he froze.

His image faltered, scattered, static.

And then Sylar was above her, Sylar was inside her. And somehow, she couldn't stand it because he wasn't fucking her anymore, he was making love to her and he never ever wore his own face, she never saw who he really was. This was never real.

It wasn't until it was over that she realized he was sobbing into her shoulder and praising her, worshipping her, begging for forgiveness. She was his conscience, his right, his angel...

Despite all his power and skill, Sylar wasn't able to fix himself, not the way she could. So he broke her down and tore her up in the hopes that she would be as tattered as he was.

They were not fitting puzzle pieces, not lovers, not soul mates. They were two broken halves that cut into each other's weakest parts but they both lived for the pain and couldn't stop. Never stop.

Her arms came around him, a backwards embrace. She whispered his name into his ear and felt him crumble and shudder within her.

Gabriel...

She could never forgive him but she all ready had.

.end.