Disclaimer: Don't own anything recognizably Heroes. If I did, the last five minutes of 3.11 never would have happened :|
Repairman
All his life, he'd had a fascination with how things worked; how they were put together, the multitude of intricate little mechanisms that worked in unison to operate as one entity.
He also had a fascination with fixing things; how to piece them together, how it is usually just one small defect that will entirely alter the capability of an object to carry out its function.
After all, he had been a watchmaker.
As a boy, he'd take apart and put together toys of his. Break them, fix them, and break them again. He loved the feeling of absolute power that surged from his mind and into his dexterous fingers as he handled the many pieces. He was in absolute control- the toy, the object, was completely surrendered to his hands. He was the one responsible to save it, to fix it.
He had always prided himself for this: he's never come across something he couldn't fix; has never been incapable of repairing anything.
But then she came along.
Elle Bishop. Beautifully broken in all her fierce, electrifying glory.
He was attracted to her in ways he had not felt possible. The static, the tension, the potential drew him in. She was broken. Of this he was fully aware, and this only intrigued him further.
And so he pushed harder, fascinated and curious to see how far her little fractured soul could bend before breaking. The watchmaker in him justified his actions with the rationale that he needed to know her to be able to fix her. And he did want to fix her, wanted to fix what Bob did, wanted to erase the hurt and let her start fresh.
But then came that fateful moment on the beach. He had stared at her, his eyes indulging themselves on her form. She was scared. And it finally dawned on him that it was Sylar of whom she was scared.
She was so broken, so delusional, a damaged good. She had nothing to fear, he only wanted to help. His fingers tickled with excitement as they danced over her smooth skin. His mind yearned, begged to fix her, his little angel with a broken watch and broken wings.
And he knew, he knew, that it was time.
He'd cut into her then, ignoring her pitiful whimpers. He just needed to see it, to study it directly and then he would know how to mend her. He had been certain. He'd break her apart and put her back together good as new, just like he would to a damaged watch. In his mind, this is what it all came down to- his childhood memories of playing God and playing doctor, the repairing and the mending- it was practice all leading up to this moment, this final test. If he could fix her, he could fix anything.
Shhh. It'll all be over soon.
But when he opened her up and looked inside, he was shocked by the complicity of it all. For the first time in his life, he was terrified with the prospect of having miscalculated – fatally.
Gabriel Gray finally met his match, finally faced with something he could not fix.
He could not fix a broken heart.
End
A/N: Thanks for taking the time to read this plotless drabble, haha. Reviews will make my day! :)