aunt_zelda | Somewhere, A Clock Stopped Ticking (Depressing Mylar fic)

Title: Somewhere, A Clock Stopped Ticking.

Rating: R for death.

Genre: Angst and sadness and gloom. None of my usual crack, I’m afraid.

Pairings: One sided Mylar? Mutual Mylar? You decide.

Warnings: If you haven’t watched all of Season 1 of Heroes, you shouldn’t be here, you should be at nbc.com catching up!

Disclaimer: Uh … obviously I don’t own Heroes.

Summary: Character death. (Frak, now I’m depressed … *gets chocolate, and still feels crummy*)

My Thoughts: No idea where this came from … it’s rather dark and depressing for me … just thought at least one AU of mine should end like this. (Also, it could have been written better, and I keep switching from Mohinder to Sylar’s point of view, so just re-read it a few times if you need to …)

Mohinder had felt his heart drop into his feet when Sylar strode in. Nothing he could do … helpless again …

“Here to kill me?” Mohinder asked, almost anticipating a ‘yes.’

“No, I’m not here to hurt you.” Sylar said, meaning it.

Mohinder didn’t believe him, of course.

“What kind of sick game are you –” the Indian began, but Sylar sighed and silenced him with telekinesis. Then, just to be safe, he ‘threw’ Mohinder into a chair as well, keeping him pinned down.

“Sorry about that, but I can’t have you interrupting me now. And, again, I’m not here to hurt you,” he pulled a gun out of his jacket pocket. Mohinder’s eyes widened: shock or fear or both?

Sylar took a deep breath. “I’ve been debating with myself for these past few days about what to do. I can’t keep killing people. What I’ve done … it’s not justifiable anymore.”

Mohinder raised his eyebrows, clearly skeptical.

Sylar fingered the gun. “So I decided that I have two options. One is to live with you. I’ve seen the way you look at me; I can practically hear your dirty little thoughts,”

Mohinder tried to hide his discomfort, but he didn’t succeed.

Sylar strode over to the paralyzed man. “You want me. I’ve wanted you ever since you walked into Zane’s house. I’ll give up everything for you. I’ll do anything, anything at all,” his lips were trailing across Mohinder’s forehead. A shuddering sigh escaped Mohinder’s lips.

Sylar let the hold on Mohinder’s voice go. “Just say the word, and I’m yours forever,” he whispered.

Mohinder remained silent for a long time. “What’s the second option?” he asked.

Sylar straightened up and stepped back. “I thought that was obvious, Mohinder,” he raised the gun up to his head.

Mohinder gasped. “You’re going to … you’ll … in front of me?!” he stared at Sylar, horrified.

Sylar nodded. “It’s the only other way. Either you take me in, or I’ll kill myself, right here, right now. I’m not immune to bullet wounds, you know. I can die.”

Mohinder closed his eyes, taking deep, shuddering breaths. “I could never let you live here … you killed my father, and Peter, and Dale and Zane and Molly’s parents and …” he opened his eyes. Tears were trickling down Sylar’s face. Mohinder replaced horror with anger. “I can’t kill you, Peter couldn’t, Hiro couldn’t: this is probably the only way you’d ever be able to die.”

Sylar made a small gasp noise, like someone who’s been unexpectedly pricked by something sharp. “So that’ a no,” he said quietly.

Mohinder nodded viciously. “Yes, that’s a no.”

Sylar closed his eyes, gulped, and cocked the gun. He muttered something in Latin … a prayer?

Mohinder felt a million voices screaming for him to stop Sylar … to take it back … but Mohinder wouldn’t give in, not this time.

He forced himself to watch.

~*~

Later, much later, Mohinder stared at the body.

His face was calm, almost peaceful. He might just be sleeping, but for the blood and … Mohinder fought the urge to throw up. This was all his fault, he could have saved him … he had wanted to be saved, and Mohinder had let him blow his brains out …

Mohinder knelt down on the floor and began to cry. The tears burned, and the lifeless man stared into space.

Somewhere, a clock stopped ticking.