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for muses_creative: deception
Apr. 9th, 2009 02:52 pmIt's too easy.
All he really has to do is comb his hair over, change into his old cardigan and glasses, and take a trip down to DC, and they're on him like a pack of wolves. He struggles a little when they set themselves upon him, though not as much as he could, wanting to keep them thinking that he's just Gabriel Gray rather than an older, better version, and he stops dead when they get out the guns. He's not sure they know that his younger self can heal just yet, and he doesn't want to tip either of their hands. The more advantages he has, right now, the better.
He lets them drug him, too, the tube they shove up his nose more than a touch uncomfortable. Not that the drugs do much--they're dosing for Gabriel and his aptitude, not for him and all his power--but he lets them think it works, head rolling on his shoulders lazily as he pretends to fight it before he drops, dead weight. They hesitate for a moment, just to make sure he's not playing possum--if they only knew--and he stays still, not so much as batting an eyelash as they shove him into the van.
Waiting motionless, he counts out the minutes it takes to get there, so that he knows how far he has to go to get back to his car when he's done here, and then he lets them haul him out of the car and into a building. They leave him in a room, still presumably drugged, for twenty minutes before someone comes. And when how much medication they have him on changes enough to allow him to pretend to be conscious, albeit sluggishly so, he gets his first good look at the man who dare to torture his younger self.
Even having seen Danko already once in Gabriel's memories, he can't say the Hunter is what he was expecting. He's too old. Too short. Too fragile. He knows better, of course, having seen what Danko is capable of and able to recognize the wolfish grin he's wearing as something more than familiar, but it's still something of a surprise. He doesn't bother hiding it either, as he figures it works, given the situation.
Danko's smile only widens. "You know, Mister Gray, I would have thought you'd keep your head down, given what we did to you last time, but here you are, back with us. And judging by what my boys told me, you all but walked in here with open arms." He pauses, shaking his head in amusement. "I might have to add masochist to your file."
"Shut up," he hisses, though it's just more show. He's fairly sure he is a masochist, and even if he wasn't, it's not like he's the one in any kind of real danger here. The Hunter doesn't know that, however, and so he laughs.
"I'm surprised we didn't break you of that mouth, last time, either. Guess we'll just have to try again."
Sylar lets that hang in the air for a moment, more for Danko's benefit than for his own, and then his expression shifts, a slow, sick smile crawling onto his face. And where he sounded terrified before, an antiseptic slur to his words, now any illusion that the drugs are actually having any effect on him has evaporated. Now he sounds and looks dangerous. "Oh, I don't think you'll be trying anything. Not now. Not ever again."
He stands, casting the Hunter in shadow as he towers over him suddenly, and Danko recoils in horror, reaching for his gun, but he's too fast. With a brutal flick of his fingers, the weapon goes flying, slapping against the far wall with a metallic thud and without ever going off, the other man not even having managed to get the safety off, and he doesn't bother going after it. He's rooted to the spot for a moment, all his combat reflexes useless in the face of true horror. In knowing that he's not the one holding all the cards anymore.
"You're not Gray," he manages finally, tensing, ready for a fight as the initial shock wears off. "Who are you?"
"My name is Sylar."
He closes in on him, and in the minutes that follow, he's immensely grateful that the walls in here are soundproof.
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 730
All he really has to do is comb his hair over, change into his old cardigan and glasses, and take a trip down to DC, and they're on him like a pack of wolves. He struggles a little when they set themselves upon him, though not as much as he could, wanting to keep them thinking that he's just Gabriel Gray rather than an older, better version, and he stops dead when they get out the guns. He's not sure they know that his younger self can heal just yet, and he doesn't want to tip either of their hands. The more advantages he has, right now, the better.
He lets them drug him, too, the tube they shove up his nose more than a touch uncomfortable. Not that the drugs do much--they're dosing for Gabriel and his aptitude, not for him and all his power--but he lets them think it works, head rolling on his shoulders lazily as he pretends to fight it before he drops, dead weight. They hesitate for a moment, just to make sure he's not playing possum--if they only knew--and he stays still, not so much as batting an eyelash as they shove him into the van.
Waiting motionless, he counts out the minutes it takes to get there, so that he knows how far he has to go to get back to his car when he's done here, and then he lets them haul him out of the car and into a building. They leave him in a room, still presumably drugged, for twenty minutes before someone comes. And when how much medication they have him on changes enough to allow him to pretend to be conscious, albeit sluggishly so, he gets his first good look at the man who dare to torture his younger self.
Even having seen Danko already once in Gabriel's memories, he can't say the Hunter is what he was expecting. He's too old. Too short. Too fragile. He knows better, of course, having seen what Danko is capable of and able to recognize the wolfish grin he's wearing as something more than familiar, but it's still something of a surprise. He doesn't bother hiding it either, as he figures it works, given the situation.
Danko's smile only widens. "You know, Mister Gray, I would have thought you'd keep your head down, given what we did to you last time, but here you are, back with us. And judging by what my boys told me, you all but walked in here with open arms." He pauses, shaking his head in amusement. "I might have to add masochist to your file."
"Shut up," he hisses, though it's just more show. He's fairly sure he is a masochist, and even if he wasn't, it's not like he's the one in any kind of real danger here. The Hunter doesn't know that, however, and so he laughs.
"I'm surprised we didn't break you of that mouth, last time, either. Guess we'll just have to try again."
Sylar lets that hang in the air for a moment, more for Danko's benefit than for his own, and then his expression shifts, a slow, sick smile crawling onto his face. And where he sounded terrified before, an antiseptic slur to his words, now any illusion that the drugs are actually having any effect on him has evaporated. Now he sounds and looks dangerous. "Oh, I don't think you'll be trying anything. Not now. Not ever again."
He stands, casting the Hunter in shadow as he towers over him suddenly, and Danko recoils in horror, reaching for his gun, but he's too fast. With a brutal flick of his fingers, the weapon goes flying, slapping against the far wall with a metallic thud and without ever going off, the other man not even having managed to get the safety off, and he doesn't bother going after it. He's rooted to the spot for a moment, all his combat reflexes useless in the face of true horror. In knowing that he's not the one holding all the cards anymore.
"You're not Gray," he manages finally, tensing, ready for a fight as the initial shock wears off. "Who are you?"
"My name is Sylar."
He closes in on him, and in the minutes that follow, he's immensely grateful that the walls in here are soundproof.
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 730
