#124 - Great Minds Have Purposes - Cut Me Down- Heroes - Chosenfire28

[chosenfire28.livejournal.com]

Title: Cut Me Down
Author: Chosenfire
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN. All recognizable characters and situations belong to their respective owners and I make no profit off of playing with them.
Fandom: Heroes
Previous Parts: Prologue and Chapter 1
Prompt: #124 - "Great minds have purposes"
Characters/Pairings: Sylar/Elle, Arthur
Warnings: violence, angst
Spoilers: All of 3.11
Summary: She wasn't ready to forgive, and it was a little hard to forget.

Author’s Notes: So this is from Sylar’s POV. POVs will be changing throughout the whole story but the majority of them will be from Elle, Sylar, and Peter (with a few 3rd person ones thrown in). Thank you to everyone who has been commenting on this fic and I hope you guys enjoy this newest chapter.



Chapter 2

He had been tricked.

He could fell it as soon as he stepped off the sand. The voice in the back of his head, the one that had urged him on, the one that had told him something was wrong. He had been too focused to hear it though.

Too focused on her face.

The deception in her eyes.

He had been convinced that the woman lying in the sand beneath him hadn’t been Elle. Whoever had joined him on the beach hadn’t been his impish and psychotic electric girl. The woman beneath him had been timid, and scared, and fake.

She had flinched.

She hadn’t fought him.

That wasn’t his Elle.

He could feel it too. The wrongness, the heartbeat that wasn’t familiar to him.

So he had cut, and he had been right.

The body that the sunlight had touched hadn’t been Elle’s. He recognized ice cold Tracy and her too broad face and figure dressed in his shirt. A shirt he was positive he had placed on Elle. Slipped over her bare shoulders as he had kissed his way down her collarbone, heard her moan above him.

His hands had traced along the curve of her hips, had gripped her back as she had moved like silk over his body, hard and rough and so sweet and painful electricity dancing between them making her move faster, want more.

She had been what he wanted. From the beginning she had felt like his. She had felt like hope, and salvation. It had been natural to grip her tight, to claim her. Because without powers he still had her.

Then it had been Tracy.

Same shirt.

Same wound.

But it had been Tracy.

Just as blond and bright as when he had last saw her. Her too sharp eyes and too fake smile.

He had been so sure of that as he had cut her head open. He hadn’t wanted to see what made her work, hadn’t wanted her powers, he had just wanted her dead so he could find answers to what had happened to Elle.

But now he wasn’t.

Now he was having doubts.

The little voice in the back of his mind was more familiar and it hurt. Made his skin crawl. It was familiar. He had felt it every time his father had talked to him. Every time Arthur had spoke of his plans and of his place in them.

He felt tricked.

And a little bit concerned.

So he turned around. Raced along the empty stretch of beach his breath coming in quick pants and stopped at where the sand was blackened and blood was swept up and cleaned away by the tide. Along with

“No.” he gasped softly.

“Yes.” Arthur Petrelli’s voice told him and Sylar turned swiftly to see the older man standing behind him a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Why?” he roared hands clenching into fists at his sides electricity sparking across them and it burned. The worse reminded of what he had done. Her power, the only one he had ever gotten without killing someone, his empathy, for her.

“Because she got in the way of your potential, she was a bad element that would sway you against me.”

“She was on your side.” and he let the electricity race across him. Let it act as an outlet for his rage. A rage he couldn’t turn on this man, on his father. He wasn’t strong enough yet to take on Arthur Petrelli and he was nowhere near smart enough at the moment.

“No,” the smile faded from Arthur’s lips and his gaze was cold “she was on yours.” The smile came again and his eyes were like a sharks “Now she is no longer a factor, you killed her Gabriel. You sliced open her pretty little head.”

He swallowed the guilt burning through him and he felt the truth of it.

“You’re a monster.”

He would always be one. She had said he was changing but she had never demanded that change like others had. She had accepted him when he had never accepted himself and he had killed her. He had hurt her again; it was all he had ever done to her. She would have been better off if he had never entered her life.

He understood now. Great minds had purposes; little minds had nothing at all. He had thought they had been great, had thought he could be great. But he had been wrong.

“But that’s alright Gabriel” she had called him that “even a monster has a place, we need you son.” His father, he had tried teaching him a lesson. One he hadn’t wanted to learn. He looked down at the blood soaked sand and winced the electricity dying around him and his heart freezing.

He knew he had a place, he was a villain. Always had been. Nothing was going to change that. Now there was no one to change that.

So we went, because he had nowhere else left to go. Because it was where he belonged.