Sylar grabbed the man by the lapels of his brown trench coat and slammed him against the cold brick wall of the ally. The strangers difference was clear to him; something about his smell, the way he had walked, even the look on his face and now how his double heart beat thrummed against Sylar's own chest whispered of some mystery that begged the killers attention.
"Ohhhh I can't wait to find out what makes you tick" He hissed, feeling the blood-lust begin to pump through him, bringing with it the hunger, the need for knowledge; to know, to understand... he raised his finger...
"Gabriel."
Sylar froze. Only two people had ever known that name, and both of them were dead. He had made sure of that.
"Gabriel, stop. I can help you."
"I don't need your help." snarled up automatically from deep in Sylar's throat, and bubbled viciously into the small space of air between them. Fear stirred low in his mind, usually they were screaming by now.
In his moment of confusion, he glanced up into the man's face.
His stomach dropped.
Up close, it spoke of experiences the former watch-maker could barely fathom, depths uncharted into darkness even he trembled to think of treading. His fists unconsciously relaxed their hold on the man's coat. Before he could blink, long arms shot up to grab him around his shoulders, and, displaying a surprising amount of strength for such a lanky build, the man spun them so their positions were reversed.
Finding himself trapped against the wall, Sylar's heart rate skipped up, instinctively preparing him for a fight. This had not gone as planned, he had been expecting an easy kill. The man's skinny, nerdy look had promised that. And then maybe a new ability to flaunt, he had casually hypothesized a mind-reader as he stalked the man through the city. But this, this was not right. Sylar was not a helpless amateur to be overpowered this easily. He growled and and sucked in a breath to-
The man leaned forward and pressed his lips against Sylar's mouth.
He pinwheeled, his ever-thinking, ever-planning mind struck dumb, mouth slackening and allowing the other to press deeper with his own. Gabriel gasped as the mans hands slid up to cup his face gently, no longer needing to restrain his quite helpless attacker.
And then he told him, in the silence.
Told him of losing everything, everyone, EVER.
Of a mind going a screaming blank all in one instant and running, running far, far as possible because it was inconceivable to face that much pain. Going as far as to change everything, appearance, identity, just to escape.
Of a darkness in the soul so complete it blotted out even the faintest possibility of redemption.
And then, the incredibility of gaining it back. The light, gold and glowing and all that life, bringing him back out of the dark and the cold. The first cracked smile. First laugh. First touch. Tentatively reaching for what was once thought lost to oblivion.
Only for it to be ripped away in one breathless, aching moment.
Leaving only the shadow, the despair. Leaving the wanderer to travel on, forever, alone.
Yet still... his dancing tongue whispered of... joy? Pushing through. Laughing at the dark it may be, but laughter it was all the same. And the softness... such mercy... it made Gabriel's heart constrict and something twist painfully deep, deep down inside.
Briefly, they parted, Gabriel gasping for breath, and thought, and sanity. He vaguely noticed that the other man seemed strangely unaffected, breathing normally, though his lips were slightly swollen and his pupils so black it made Gabriel's... Sylar's.. breath hitch impossibly.
"How...?" He whispered brokenly.
"Shhhhhhhhh" murmured the Doctor "Let me fix you."
