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Squeeka and the Quack
Writings from the beautiful land of France, Italy.
Chaptered Fic: In Dreams: Billy 
3rd-Jun-2008 11:35 pm
Title: In Dreams
Part: Billy - 2/3
Author: Squeeka Cuomo
Rating: PG-13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Sylar
Warning: Contains gory imagery.
Author Note: This was originally written for heroesprompts (Prompt: Writer’s Choice: I know You. You know me. – Come Together)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: He’d never been one to believe in subconscious messages or dream interpretation. But in the harsh light of day, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to these particular dreams.

In Dreams: Billy

“How do you find out about these people and their… abilities?”

“Well, it hasn’t been easy. It’s taken a lot of…” Dr. Chandra Suresh moved from the cluttered table in what was supposed to be his living room to stand next to Gabriel Gray. Staring at a large map covered in Polaroid’s, stickpins, and string, Gabriel smiled when the professor began to look at the map with him. “Searching.” Pushing in a loose tack with the fleshy pad of his fingertip, Suresh scanned the myriad of faces spread out over the board. “Reading articles about unexplained occurrences and tracking the people down.” Looking over at the young man next to him, the doctor gave him a smile that radiated pride. “But unlike you, most of them don’t want to be found.”

Reaching out with a tentative hand, Gabriel ran his fingers along the different colored strings connecting the various pins. As he thought about everything that had happened since the professor had found him, the watchmaker found it hard to believe that someone wouldn’t want to know about the amazing potential they possessed. After all, who didn’t want to be special? “I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe me, I wish that it weren’t true. I tried contacting quite a few people before I finally found you.” Gently placing his hand on the young man’s shoulder, Suresh prepared to turn back to the table and his research material. However, Gabriel’s voice calling to him stopped him in his tracks.

“Are there any abilities that you wouldn’t want to have?” Based on his experience so far, Gabriel could hardly believe that there would be such a thing as a bad gift. But the look on Chandra’s face as he scanned the map said otherwise.

“There are a few.” Scanning the board, Suresh didn’t need to look at the yellow post-its containing the name, address, and ability to know every detail about the pictures’ subjects. While he generally regarded the abilities he studied as fantastic, there were a few that could only be described as a curse. “Like this boy for instance…”

Plucking the photo and attached sticky note of a young sickly looking boy from the map, Suresh stared into his haunted eyes. “Billy Miles. He can… see what you are. I don’t mean an enhanced version of a psychic ability either.” Lost in the murky depths of the child’s eyes, the doctor didn’t resist when he felt Gabriel tug the photo from his grasp. He didn’t need to see the picture to be able to recall the child’s face with startling clarity. “When you look into his eyes, you can see your soul.”

Turning away from the map and the memory of his one and only meeting with Billy Miles, Dr. Suresh left his companion standing in front of the board. He’d have given anything to forget that day and that child, but it was a visit that would haunt him until the day he died. No prayer could absolve him from the sins that tainted his soul, and he didn’t need Billy Miles to show him that.

Sylar knew that it wasn’t his place to ask and really, none of his business, but he couldn’t help it. He had to ask. The moment the question slipped over Gabriel’s lips, he wished he could take it back. The doctor didn’t seem angry or upset by the prying nature of the inquiry. Instead, he looked as haunted as if he’d just seen a ghost. Staring at the older man from across the room, he watched the last drop of color drain from Suresh’s face. “Doctor, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“Oh no, Gabriel. It’s alright.” His voice wavered slightly, as if he were fighting with himself to say the words. “I saw myself surrounded by all of the misdeeds of my life.”

Caught up in the man’s confession, Gabriel moved from the map to sit at the small table across from Dr. Suresh. He’d found the doctor to be open and honest about his studies, but he’d never really expected him to answer the question.

As the words began to pour from the older man’s mouth, the watchmaker leaned forward in his seat, drinking in every word he had to offer. Afraid that Suresh would stop speaking if he were to interrupt him, Gabriel bit down on the inside of his bottom lip. Silently willing him to continue, the young man felt his eyes go wide.

“I saw my daughter…” As the words trailed off, Gabriel watched the fear in Dr. Suresh’s eyes melt to sadness. Though he wished the doctor would continue, Gabriel knew that he wouldn’t. Picking up the small teapot sitting in the middle of the table, the watchmaker poured some of the steaming liquid into the other man’s half empty mug.

When he’d sat down in his customary seat at the table, Gabriel had set the picture of Billy and the post-it of information on the table next to him. But now, with the doctor drinking deeply from his chartreuse mug with his eyes pressed shut, Gabriel found himself slipping the picture off of the table. Undercover of the wooden surface, Gray folded the paper in half and stuck it in his pocket.

“So Gabriel, have you been working on the assignments I gave you the last time we met?” His tone was gentle but final. The topic was officially closed.

Quickly, the young man’s eyes brightened, and he couldn’t help but feel excited despite the mood that was settling over the apartment. He’d been practicing, and he’d learned a lot since their last meeting. Smiling softly, Sylar looked into the doctor’s eyes. “Yes, Doctor, I have…”


Violently pushing back the covers holding his body captive, the man practically fell out of his bed, as he tried to get to his duffle bag. Finally free, he crossed the hotel room in three long strides. Carelessly ripping open his suitcase, Sylar pulled out a long forgotten jacket. A jacket that hadn’t seen the light of day since he’d been Gabriel Gray. Reaching into the inside pocket, he pulled out a photograph he hadn’t thought of in months. The photo was creased haphazardly down the middle, and flecks of ink had chipped off, but the eyes, those sad grey eyes, were untouched. Through the semi-darkness of early morning, the haunting face of Billy Miles stared up at him.

Struggling to pull yesterday’s pants and t-shirt over damp skin, Sylar gathered his few belongings in a flurry of frenzied movements. Finally content that his things were in his bag, folded or not, the man rushed out of the hotel room, leaving both keys on the small table by the window.

Normally he would have stopped to pay the bill, if only to keep the police off his trail. But right now, a seventy-dollar bill at a sleazy off-ramp motel seemed unimportant in the grand scheme of things. And so he threw his bag on the passenger seat of his car and jumped in. Pulling out of the parking lot, Sylar headed west.

From where he was, the Miles’ home was only a few hours drive, and if traffic were good, he’d be able to make it there by mid-morning. Allowing for gas stops and other unforeseeable circumstances anyway. He had to see the boy, and he had to see him now. But as “now” was impossible, he could only hope that he made it there in time. He couldn’t quite explain why, but since he’d found the picture, Sylar had been overcome with a horrible sense of foreboding.

As the wheels tore over the pavement, a light rain began to fall. Highlighted by the headlights of a few passing cars, the cascading droplets reminded him horribly of the blood that had blossomed from the tip of his finger no more than a half hour ago. He tried to shake away the memory, but as the rain continued to splatter the windows, he couldn’t get the sight out of his mind. Flipping on the wipers, Sylar tried once again to wipe away the reminder of his dream. But instead of cleaning off the glass surface, Sylar’s eyes met with the unthinkable. What should have been a rain-streaked windshield was now smeared with dark blood.

Haphazardly pulling off the side of the road Sylar shut off the motor with an ice cold hand. The sound of the motor cooling mixing with the patter of rain, the man pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw stars. With the twinkling pin pricks dancing before his irises, the man began to rub at them like a child wiping away tears.

Dreams were not supposed to be part of waking life. The horrors that went bump in his brain were not allowed to play in the daytime. But for some reason, they were. Slamming his head back into the headrest, Sylar let out a scream that was part human, part animal. As the harsh approximation of ‘no’ ripped through the air, the man forced his eyes open.

When he looked out the windshield, he was relieved to see that the rain was once again only rain. Still too shook up to feel relieved, Sylar re-started the car; he didn’t have time to spare. Pulling off of the shoulder with a harsh squeal of tires on wet pavement, he headed towards the home of Billy Miles.

Squeeka Cuomo’s Notes
- This was originally written for heroesprompts (Prompt: Writer’s Choice: I know you. You know me. – Come Together)
- Katie: Thank you so much for all of you help. I appreciate it more than you know. :duck:
- Reviews are love.

Previous Chapters
1: Crimson
(KITH) Lips.
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