Rating: PG
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Gabriel Gray/Sylar x Mohinder Suresh
Warnings: Slash
Spoilers: Heroes, s2
Word Count: Approx. 891
Rants: Finally, the third part. I had meant to put this up weeks ago, but I'd forgotten I'd had it, and then I had to rewrite it... I don't like this, not really. I'd forgotten what I was trying to accomplish, but I really shouldn't leave a work unfinished, so here it is: part three.
Summary: Gabriel just wants to say one thing to Mohinder, but go figure he doesn't actually know how to say it.
Disclaimer: Guess what, Tim Kring heard my birthday was coming up, and after season 2 turned out to be such a failure, he really wanted some new blood on the staff, so he gave me Heroes. Seriously, guys. Does it look like I own Heroes? I'm driving a '98 Plymouth Breeze. If I owned Heroes I would at least be driving an '05 Chevy Cavalier like the guy down the street does. You know, only with four hubcaps, instead of two. (Or wait, no, that's my Plymouth.)


The first night Gabriel was back in New York since the explosion wasn't exactly how he had hoped it to be. Especially now, as he was standing outside of Mohinder's apartment, debating on whether he should knock or let Sylar have his fun and just burst the door open. Gabriel hadn't come back to get shot though, so tentatively, he knocked. Sylar could have his fun somewhere else.

They could practically hear Mohinder's confusion as he crossed his apartment floor, it was well after three in the morning, but all weariness vanished from the geneticist the moment he opened the door.

"Mohinder -" Gabriel breathed.

"Sylar," Mohinder snarled, taking an instinctive step backwards to get away from the killer.

He's reaching for his gun, on the desk, Sylar noted, and Gabriel cursed lightly.

"I'm not here to hurt you -" Gabriel started, taking a tentative step forward, allowing Sylar to use telekinesis to close the door.

"I won't let you anywhere near Molly," Mohinder spat out, hand shooting backwards for the gun, only for it to fling to the other side of them room. He scurried to stand between Molly's bedroom door and Gabriel and Sylar.

Mohinder will let anyone into his bed, won't he? Sylar joked lightly, and he felt Gabriel's heart break a little at the thought. I'm only saying – I will kill him, you know.

I know, Gabriel replied. "I wanted to talk to you. No guns. No killing." No brains, Sylar added, somewhat wistfully.

"And why should I believe you?" Mohinder asked, eyes narrowed.

Gabriel raised his hands in defeat, letting his eyes drop. "Because..." He started, his voice trailing off.

He has no reason to believe me, Gabriel muttered to Sylar.

Sylar let out an aggravated sound.

"Because if I wanted to kill you I would have already done so," Sylar snapped at Mohinder, and the Indian took another step away from them. He'd seen what an angry Sylar could do.

"Why couldn't you have just died?" Mohinder snarled, glancing around quickly for anything that could be used as a weapon.

A couch, very threatening, Sylar snorted.

It would be if you used it, Gabriel pointed out.

Now you're just trying to appease me, Sylar practically purred.

He asked you a question, you know, Gabriel sighed.

Oh yeah. Sylar glanced up at Mohinder warily. "I don't feel like dying."

"Oh, and what do you feel like doing?" Mohinder asked sarcastically, edging back closer to Molly's door.

Hadn't they woken the little girl yet? Gabriel wondered. They weren't exactly being quiet.

"I feel like killing you," Sylar replied, in all honesty. The colour drained from Mohinder's face. "Gabriel won't let me though."

Mohinder was probably the only person who had the gall to look confused after Sylar threatened their life. "You are Gabriel."

"I'm Sylar," Sylar spat out, tapping his chest. "He's Gabriel." Here he tapped his temple, and he could see the confusion on Mohinder's face and knew exactly what was going through the geneticist's mind. "We're not crazy."

"I think multiple-personalities is part of the definition of being crazy," Mohinder dared. He seemed to be relaxing somewhat though, with the news Sylar – Gabriel – whoever – had no intention of killing him. "Why are you here, Sylar?"

"Because he loves you," Sylar snorted, and a look of revulsion passed over Mohinder's face.

SYLAR! Gabriel cried, disbelief and betrayal ringing heavy in his voice, and Sylar was almost positive the watchmaker would start to cry. Don't-!

Sylar ignored him.

"I don't-" Mohinder began, then stopped. He opened his mouth to speak again, but no words came.

Sylar took the opportunity to cross the room, and pin Mohinder against Molly's bedroom door, pressing their lips together in a rough kiss. Mohinder struggled to break free, but Sylar held him in place.

Now's your chance, dumbass, Sylar snorted.

Shocked, but unable to resist the chance – no matter how awkward and unwanted it was, Gabriel took over.

The kiss softened, and Gabriel was positive Mohinder could sense the change of power within him. He brought his hands up to cradle Mohinder's face, and if it wasn't being forced on him, it would be almost sweet. Tender. He opened his mouth to protest, still, and Gabriel took the opportunity to slide his tongue in. Mohinder moved his lips, trying to tell Gabriel to stop, and while before he would have mistaken it as kissing back, Gabriel knew better now. But that didn't matter, because it felt good.

Gabriel can't remember the last time he kissed someone, let alone a French kiss, but he knows it was long before Sylar decided that playing in the sidelines wasn't enough.

Sylar must have trusted Mohinder to be compliant, because the moment Gabriel pulled away to breathe, Mohinder punched him. They fell backwards, and Mohinder was pinned against the wall, Sylar taking over again, ignoring as a pathetic Gabriel burst into hurt tears.

"What do you want from me?" Mohinder gasped, fingers clutching at the invisible bonds closing in over his throat.

Sylar snorted. "Voulez-vous couchez avec moi?" He joked, a light smirk crossing his face.

A look of abject horror passed over Mohinder's voice as the Indian silently translated that in his mind, and Sylar could only assume where his mind was going with that.

Et Fini.