Title: Salvation
Author: punk4life1315
Beta: game_byrd
Characters/Pairings: Gabriel/Peter, Claire, Angela, Nathan, Noah Bennet
Genres: Slash, Drama
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, non-graphic torture, cannon character death,
Summary: For heroes_bigboom. Sylar shows up at Peter's apartment badly beaten. But Peter soon learns that Sylar is not in control of his abilities, and there's another side to the killer that few ever knew about. Nathan, wanting to purge the world of specials, starts with Sylar. Now Peter must decide between betraying his brother or joining him.


Thunder boomed outside and rain pounded against the windows. Peter sat in the middle of his bed, knees pulled to his chest. Two weeks had passed since the events surrounding both companies. Two weeks since he last spoke to Nathan. Or anyone else in his family.

A banging on the door to his apartment broke him out of his thoughts and he scrambled off the bed and onto his feet. For a moment, he thought it was just the thunder, but after a few moments the pounding started up again. Wondering who would be coming to visit him at this time of night, Peter made his way to the front door and peeked out of the peephole, but all he could see was black. Whoever it was, they wanted their identity hidden until the door was open.

Peter unlocked the door, but kept the chain on it as a precaution before cracking it open. His eyes widened when he saw Sylar on the other side. He almost slammed the door shut before he noticed something off about the other man.

The serial killer was covered in blood; that part didn't surprise him. It was the fact that he had open cuts on him and he seemed to be breathing heavily. Sylar looked at him with pleading eyes and an earnest expression. Peter closed the door to undo the chain before opening it back up and letting the man in.

As Sylar walked in, Peter couldn't help but notice how he was barely keeping himself upright; he leaned against the wall as soon as he made it through the doorway. Sylar managed a spacey smile and his voice was strained when he finally spoke. "I really didn't think you'd let me in."

Peter was about to reply when the man's eyes rolled up and he started to fall. Peter caught him just before he hit the floor. He hefted the man up and got him on the couch. He knelt beside it and gave Sylar a glance over.

The bruised and battered form of his arch nemesis unsettled him. Why wasn't Sylar healing? And why did he choose to come to him of all people? Peter pushed the thoughts aside and reached out, touching a nasty cut just above Sylar's brow. It was deep and looked to be infected.

He caught sight of a bruise poking out from Sylar's shirt and moved his hand down, pushing aside the fabric. He didn't notice Sylar had awakened until there was a hand placed over his own. He looked up at Sylar and asked, "What happened to you?"

Sylar shook his head. "I'd rather not say."

"Sylar, you're hurt badly and I need to know-"

Sylar gave Peter's hand a squeeze. "Please, just let me rest a bit."

"Can I look you over first?"

Sylar nodded. "You may."

Peter took the time to ask Sylar a few general questions as he looked him over a bit. After deducing that whatever was wrong with Sylar was not life-threatening, he stood up and gave him a comforting smile. "I think you'll live."

Sylar nodded. "I figured as much."

"Get some rest and in the morning I can do a better job at looking you over."

Sylar again nodded, already drifting off to sleep. "Thank you, Peter."

Peter wondered what could have happened to drive Sylar to his apartment. And more importantly, why wasn't he healing? He briefly wondered if someone had created yet another virus to eradicate abilities. Even if there was, there wasn't much he could do about it at that moment. So he went into his bedroom and closed the door, hoping Sylar would be there in the morning for some questioning.

In the morning, Peter got up with his alarm and opened his bedroom doors. He leaned against the doorway when he saw that Sylar was still curled up on the couch fast asleep. Peter sighed softly as he watched the man sleep. Something in the back of his mind was telling him that this was not the same killer that he knew. He seemed like an entirely different person all together.

Sylar let out a sigh and opened his eyes, looking right at Peter. Peter felt his heart flutter a bit and quickly dismissed the feeling. "Morning."

Sylar sat up and stretched, letting out a pained groan as he did so. He leaned against the arm of the couch and addressed Peter. "Morning to you too."

Peter walked over and sat down next to the other man. "Did you sleep well?"

Sylar nodded. "I did."

"So, how are you feeling?"

"Fine," Sylar replied with a yawn. He glanced over at Peter. "Thank you, for taking me in. I really didn't expect you to be so kind to me."

"You needed my help. I don't turn people like that away, even if they are serial killers."

Sylar frowned at the last part and shrugged Peter's hand off of his shoulder. "Well, like I said before, thank you." He started to stand up. "I should leave now."

Peter reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, you're in no condition to go out there and besides, I haven't finished checking you over."

"I'm fine Peter, really," Sylar said. "All I needed was some rest."

Peter shook his head. "It would make me feel a lot better if you let me look you over. Or if you're not comfortable with me doing it, then let a doctor. Please."

Sylar looked over at him once more and nodded. "Fine. But no doctors."

"Ok, but you should still come to work with me," Peter said. "There's better equipment there and if there is something really serious, then we'll be in the right place to fix it."

"I really don't like hospitals."

"It'll be fine. I promise."

"If you give me your word that there will be no doctors, then I'll come with you."

Peter gave him a smile before standing up and making each of them a cup of coffee. He handed one over to Sylar when he came back into the front room and sat back down. "I have a little time before work, so maybe we can talk."

"I suppose."

"Do you-do you think you could tell me what happened."

Sylar just stared into his coffee mug and went completely silent. It was several minutes before Sylar actually spoke. "I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and I'm sorry, but I really, really don't want to talk about it."

Peter nodded. "I understand."

They finished their coffee before Peter got ready for work. When he came back out, he was holding some clean clothes. "I thought that you would like some clean clothes," Peter said, handing them over to Sylar. "These are too big for me, so they might be able to fit you."

Sylar accepted them and stood up. "Thank you, again."

Peter nodded and pointed towards the bathroom. "You can go ahead and get ready, and then we'll leave."

Sylar came back out a few moments later and Peter held in a laugh. The clothes were a bit small for Sylar, but they were clean and not covered in blood which was the important part. "So ready to go?"

Sylar nodded and they headed out of the building. Peter called a cab and they made their way to the hospital. When they arrived, Peter clocked in and told his ambulance partner to page him if he needed him before hauling Sylar off to an empty room. He closed the door and turned to look at Sylar. "Officially, you are not a patient. So if someone finds us I could get in a lot of trouble."

Sylar hopped off the bed. "Then I should-"

"Sit back down."

Sylar sat down and Peter stepped closer. Gently, he reached out and examined the cut above Sylar's brow. It seemed well on its way to healing now. He ran his fingers down Sylar's cheek and tilted the man's head to look at the scratches on Sylar's neck. "So, you're not going to tell me what happened?"

Sylar shook his head. "I'd rather not."

Peter nodded. "Very well, can you take off your shirt and jacket please? You looked like you were having some trouble breathing this morning."

Peter didn't miss the slight flush that Sylar's face took on at the question. Sylar looked away for a moment, before taking his time, groaning as he took his shirt off. Peter raised an eyebrow when he saw the cause. There was a shallow gash running from Sylar's left shoulder down to his right hip. He had seen a small glimpse of it when he had checked Sylar over the previous night, but hadn't realized just how bad it was. Peter turned and went to the cabinet, grabbing out some antiseptic and some gauze. He cleaned out the wound, Sylar hissing as he did so.

It wasn't until he started bandaging up Sylar's chest did he ask his burning question. "Why aren't you healing?"

Sylar shrugged. "I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"My abilities just stopped working."

Peter had a feeling that Sylar was hiding something from him, but he didn't press. If Sylar didn't feel like telling him, then it wasn't his place to make him. "Are there any more injuries?"

Sylar reached down and lifted up his pant leg. "I don't think it's broken, but it still hurts to walk on."

Peter knelt down in front of Sylar. He poked and prodded, before agreeing that it was not broken. He got it wrapped up and decided that Sylar was fine. "Well, I think you're good to go."

Sylar got dressed and hopped off the bed once more. "Thank you, Peter."

"It's no problem," Peter said. "Just take some time to rest. Make sure to elevate that leg. Since it's still a relatively new injury use an ice pack for about thirty minutes at a time, and then in a few days we'll switch to a heating pad."

Sylar nodded. "Thank you, again."

Peter smiled at him. "Would you like me to call you a cab back to my place?"

"Oh, you don't have to do that."

"I'm just trying to help you, Sylar. Please, let me do this for you."

"Okay."

Peter reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, taking his apartment key off it and handing it over to Sylar. "Here's the key and I'll go phone you a cab."

Peter called a cab and walked Gabriel to the entrance before making his way to the garage. He found Hesam sitting in the back of their ambulance sipping on some coffee. He looked up as Peter approached. "And where have you been?"

"A friend got hurt," Peter replied, sitting down next to Hesam. "And I had to make sure that he was okay."

Hesam was about to say something else when the radio dispatch came through signaling that they had a job to do. They climbed into the front of the ambulance and headed off.

When his shift ended for the day, Peter stopped by a Mexican takeout place and ordered some food before returning home. Since he had left his key with Sylar, Peter knocked to be let in. As soon as Sylar opened the door, Peter smiled and handed him one of the takeout boxes. "I brought home some food! Hope you like Mexican."

Sylar took the box and nodded. "Thanks."

Peter nodded towards Sylar's leg. "And you made sure to stay off of that?"

"Yes, Peter. I laid on the couch all day."

"You could have taken the bed," Peter said, turning his back and missing the flush developing on Sylar's face. "Much more comfortable."

"N-no. The couch was fine."

Peter shrugged and grabbed out some forks before sitting down at the table. Sylar sat down across from him and accepted the fork being held out to him. "I feel like I don't deserve any of this."

"Any of what?"

"Any of your kindness," Sylar replied. "I don't even know why I came here last night."

"Maybe because you needed help."

"But there was no guarantee that you would help me," Sylar replied. "For all I knew, you would have taken in my condition and tried to kill me right there and then."

"It flashed through my mind."

Sylar nodded and pushed his food around. "What made you not kill me?"

"I don't know," Peter said quietly. "I just had a feeling that you really needed my help."

"I do need your help," Sylar confessed. "I want to change. I want people to not be afraid of me anymore. I'm tired of being the villain because in the end the villain is lonely. I don't want that anymore."

Peter reached over and put his hand on Sylar's arm. "If you are truly ready to change, then I will help you. I don't think that this is something that you can go through alone."

"Thank you, Peter. That's very kind of you."

"You're welcome."

As the days passed, Peter found that he had gained a roommate. Not that he minded very much. It gave him a chance to keep an eye on the former villain and allowed him to witness his change. At least, that's what Peter told himself.

He tried questioning Sylar to find out what was going on with him. He even went to the length of threatening him, but Sylar would simply fall silent and stare at the door. When Peter pressed him, Sylar finally told him that if Peter absolutely had to know, then he'd leave. Peter didn't want that, so he stopped questioning. This didn't mean that Peter was going to desist in trying to discover the truth.

Sylar was in the kitchen grabbing something out of the fridge when Peter came through and grabbed his coat, putting it on. Sylar asked, "Where are you going?"

"Out for a little bit," Peter replied. "I'll be back soon."

Sylar nodded and went back into the front room. Peter thought about staying, but he needed to know more than Sylar was willing to tell him. He left and hailed a cab, giving the driver his mother's address.

Peter's mind was running on overdrive when he arrived at his mother's house. He had told Sylar he wasn't going to ask anymore, but he just couldn't not know what happened either. He needed to know about Sylar's past so he went to the only person he could think of who would know.

And in doing this, he felt like he was betraying Sylar's trust. It was this thought that almost had him turning back around. Instead, he knocked on the door and waited for a servant to let him in. The servant told him his mother was in the garden and he headed out that way. She was sitting there, talking on the phone.

"I'll call you back later, Nathan," Angela said when she caught sight of Peter. "I have some company over." She hung up and placed the phone aside. "Well, what brings you out here, Peter?"

"I need you to tell me everything you know about Sylar," Peter said. "I know you still have his files and I want to see them."

Angela stared at Peter for a long moment before reaching over on the table beside her and picking up her drink. She took a sip before answering archly, "Unfortunately, all the Company's files have been taken. I know nothing."

"Bullshit," Peter said. "I know you read his files more than once. What do you know?"

"What more do you need to know? He's a serial killer, Peter. There's nothing special about him."

Peter let out an aggravated sigh. "Because I fear there may be something wrong with him."

"Why do you even care, Peter?"

"I care because I've seen him lately and he's really messed up. Something is wrong with him and I need to understand what it is. He saved my life Ma, I feel like I need to repay the favor."

Angela was silent for a long moment. "You said he's messed up. How is he messed up?"

"He came to my apartment beaten and bloody and unable to heal himself," Peter replied. "I believe that he's powerless and I think maybe he was infected-"

"It's not an infection."

"Excuse me?"

"He's not infected with anything, and he's not powerless," Angela replied. "He simply can't access his abilities. In fact, I don't think he knows how."

"Well, now I'm confused."

"You know nothing of his past, do you?"

"He won't tell me."

Angela took another sip of her drink before speaking. "Gabriel Gray was diagnosed with split personality when he was ten. The personality called itself Sylar, after a watch brand. Gabriel received psychological treatment until they were able to suppress the personality. It didn't reappear again until Dr. Suresh made a visit to him."

Peter stared at his mother in shock. "Split personality?"

Angela nodded. "So you should be careful of the man in your apartment, Peter. You never know when he might switch."

"Are you implying he's unstable?"

Angela nodded again. "Anxiety, anger, pain, depression, any of that could make Sylar come out in seconds. At least, that's how it was when he was a child."

"How did they prevent it?"

"We sent a telepath to suppress the personality."

"Why didn't you just round him up like every other special?"

"Because he was a child," Angela replied. "And though I knew that he would become a killer, I thought that suppressing the personality would prevent that. But I was wrong."

"And what about now? What's the future have in store for him?"

Angela looked at her son for a long moment before he answered. "I haven't seen anything yet, but you should still be careful."

"Thank you, Ma," Peter said. "I'll see you later."

"Goodbye, Peter."

When Peter returned to his apartment, he spotted Sylar in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove. Peter hung his coat up and leaned against the wall, watching Sylar for a few minutes. In his head, he tried to decide who the other man was at that moment. Was he Gabriel? Or was he Sylar?

Peter took a deep breath before speaking. "Gabriel?" The man stopped, but didn't address him. Peter continued on. "So, that's who you are right now? Gabriel?"

It took a few moments for the man to respond. He slowly nodded before going back to stirring. "Yes. My name is Gabriel."

"If your name is Gabriel, then why have you been letting me call you Sylar?"

Gabriel looked over his shoulder at Peter. "If I had told you that I had another personality, would you have believed me?"

"Still, you could have asked me to call you Gabriel and I would have called you that."

Gabriel shook his head. "It doesn't matter what people call me. I'm still just going to be a monster to them."

Peter came up beside him and gently laid his hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "You're not a monster. I can just feel that you're not anymore."

"I've only been here a week," Gabriel said. "I really don't think that's enough time to make a judgment."

"With or without my ability, I'm still an empath," Peter said. "And my empathy tells me that you're not the same person who shoved me off a school stadium in Texas."

Gabriel turned and looked at Peter, searching his eyes for the truth. He seemed to find the answer he wanted and nodded. "That's very kind of you, Peter."

Peter smiled at him as he dropped his hand back to his side. "So, what's for dinner?"

"Mac and cheese," Gabriel replied. "And it will be done soon if you were wondering that as well."

"Ok, I'll leave you to finish that now," Peter replied as he turned towards the cabinet over the sink. "And I'll get the table set for us."

When dinner was ready, Peter went and sat down at the table. Gabriel came in with two plates. He set one down in front of Peter and the other down across from him. As they sat, Peter couldn't help but notice how Gabriel was pushing his food around his plate more than actually eating it. "Something wrong?"

Gabriel shook his head before taking a bite. "I'm just not as hungry as I thought I was. I should tell you something now that you know about Sylar. All this time, ever since I found out about my ability, he's been in control. I feel the need to apologize because I know that I hurt you, even if I don't remember doing so."

"If that's true, then you never hurt me," Peter said. "Sylar did."

"But he used me to do it and I feel like that I need to pay for that."

"Well, you don't," Peter said, gently. "That wasn't something that was in your control. If anyone needs to apologize to me, it's Sylar. Not you."

Gabriel smiled softly. "Thank you."

Peter returned the smile. "You're welcome."

Gabriel walked off to the kitchen and disposed of his food before going into the front room and curling on the couch with a book. When Peter finished his dinner, he came out and sat on the other side of the couch, flipping on the TV, though he found that he wasn't paying much attention to it.

Gabriel looked up when he felt eyes on him and turned to look at Peter. "What?"

Peter shook his head and looked back at the TV. "Nothing." Gabriel nodded and went back to his book, looking a bit uncomfortable. Peter noticed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been staring."

"It's fine," Gabriel replied. "It's just, I'm not used to getting attention."

"I went out today so I could learn the truth," Peter said. "I asked my mother about you, which was rude of me, but I felt like you wouldn't tell me."

Gabriel was quiet for several seconds and when he spoke his voice was quiet. "I never knew about him. I used to black out all the time as a child and I would do a lot of things and not remember them. I ended up being hospitalized and he never appeared again. It was when that doctor, the one who was studying specials, I think his name was Suresh, came around that the blackouts began once more."

"When did you get control back?"

"After the Pinehearst explosion."

"And what did you do then?"

"I tried to go back home."

"What happened?"

"They found me."

"Who found you?" Peter asked, but Gabriel went silent. "Gabriel, who found you?"

"Men working for the government," Gabriel replied. "They tried to capture me and I managed to escape."

"Did you see any of them?"

After a long pause, Gabriel shook his head. "No, I didn't. I'm sorry."

"Then how do you know they were from the government?"

"It said SWAT on the back of their uniforms. I think that pretty much gave it away," Gabriel replied.

"So, is that how you got all beat up?"

Gabriel nodded. "Can we talk about something else? Please?"

Peter nodded. "Yes, we can."