Chameleon

Title: Chameleon
Author: Sapphire17
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Peter/Gabriel
Spoilers: Up to 3x25
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Summery: Matt paints a picture. Mohinder has a conversation. Angela has a dream. Can what’s going to happen between Peter and Gabriel be stopped in time?


A/N: I wrote this while watching the "Halloween" series, so maybe that's why this fic turned out so freaky, lol.

Chameleon

Before a canvas, Matt Parkman stood. His eyes gone white as he painted away, trying to uncover what the future had to behold. Janice wasn’t around; she was out with Matt Parkman Jr. at the grocery store. It was for the better, Matt had told himself. Janice had yet to see Matt like this and as if telepathy wasn’t enough of a gift to have. Matt also kept telling himself that he needed to paint though, especially after what had happened with Nathan, no, Sylar. Matt had a feeling that no matter how long Angela Petrelli dragged out this charade, that eventually, the truth would unfold itself.

That Sylar would be back.

Back to slaughter all.

It had been over eight weeks now, and the Petrellis were doing just fine from what Matt had heard from Peter. Hell, Matt felt sorry for the guy. And for Claire, for they didn’t know the truth. Matt felt as if this... whole thing in its entirety was all some horrible joke being played on the two of them, but then when the truth came out...

Matt had finished his panting, his eyes returning to their usual state of dark brown.

And then, his eyes widened instantaneously.

Matt stood before the painting blankly.

What the fuck?


---


At the Petrelli mansion, Nathan Petrelli stood in front of one of the many bathroom’s mirrors.

Who am I?

Having just gotten out of the shower, Nathan stared into the mirror, only... He didn’t recognize he own reflection. It had all started earlier that day, when Nathan had received a gift through the mail. It had been a watch – a watch with the brand name of ‘Sylar’ on it.

But Sylar was dead. That’s right. Dead and burned. Still, why did Nathan seem to care so much about a stupid watch? Nathan quickly got dressed, briefly running a towel through his hair. Then came the mirror again.

That damned mirror.

Nathan once more gazed into the mirror.

Only, he didn’t recognize his own reflection anymore. It’s like there was somebody else staring back at him. Some hidden, dormant part of him that was just screaming to be let out.

You’re not who you think you are... Nathan heard in his head.

“Stop it,” Nathan demanded, holding his head in his hands.

You’re not Nathan Petrelli.

“Stop it,” Nathan repeated, wondering if he had truly lost his mind.

You’re dead.

“Stop it!” Nathan yelled, just before the mirror in front of him cracked, seemingly on its own. Now, there was a straight line; a singular crack running down the mirror that separated it into two halves.

Nathan backed away from the mirror, confused as ever on how the mirror had just... cracked on its own. Nathan stared into his reflection once more. It appeared as if his reflection had cracked right in half. As if... as if there were two of him, or two sides really. Two halves. One the dominant half, and the other... the dormant one.

What was Nathan thinking? Had he gone schizoid or something? Of course not. Had he gone crazy? Maybe. Dismissing what had happened to the mirror altogether, Nathan dressed hastily and departed from the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

He then ambled his way down the long and lavish hallway, making his way towards the table where he had set the watch that had arrived in the mail for him earlier that day. It lay on one of the many nightstands in the living room. Nathan picked up the small case, and opened it to look at the watch once more.

It’s running three seconds slow. I should sit down and repair it.

But wait. Nathan Petrelli didn’t know anything about watches. Right?

Wrong.

He did now. Every clock or watch Nathan heard had him listening intently, like an orchestra playing loud enough to black out every other sound and noise around.

Nathan looked back at the watch engraved with the name ‘Sylar’ on it, as if he were drawn to it. He just... couldn’t stop staring.

Look closer, Nathan, look closer...

“Get out of my head,” Nathan said to himself.

I can’t, I’m you.

“You’re.. not.. me,” Nathan argued quietly.

Yes I am, and now I’m taking back control.

Nathan felt as his body was... shifting. He groaned loudly, falling down to one of the couches as he cried out.

“Peter...” Nathan murmured as his body began to... to change itself. “Peter...”


---


Peter Petrelli was currently on his way to the Petrelli mansion, having just gotten off work. He was in a cab, which strangely enough, was being driven by none other than Mohinder Suresh.

“Funny,” Mohinder spoke, “Last time we were in a cab together I ended up with a gun to the back of my head the second you got out.”

“Well thankfully, that’s all over with now,” Peter clarified, “Finally, everything’s back to normal. No Pinehearst, no Danko... no Sylar...”

Mohinder’s brow furrowed a bit. “Why did you almost sound regretful when you mentioned Sylar of all people? Be glad that he’s dead and gone. You told me yourself that you watched him burn.”

Mohinder made out Peter’s nod from the rearview mirror.

“Yes,” Peter answered, “But I didn’t have a huge smile plastered on my face or a feeling of gratifying relief like everyone else who watched him burn. I guess that makes me... different from everyone else. I almost felt... sad. He saved my life once, you know... Even if he was a monster, there was still good in him. I could feel it. He had a soul Mo—”

“Maybe at one point he did,” Mohinder said, cutting Peter off, “But that part of him died ages ago. He killed my father, don’t forget. Personally, I’m with everyone else who watched him get torched. I’m glad that Sylar’s dead and gone. I’m just sorry that I couldn’t have watched him die like the rest of you. Now let’s stop talking about this, shall we?”

“Alright, alright,” Peter responded, “You do know the Company’s back though, right? I still can’t believe that Noah Bennet asked me of all people to be a company agent.”

“Well now that Sylar’s dead and you possess all of Sylar’s powers, that makes you the most powerful of us all. I think you should reconsider Bennet’s offer.”

Peter shook his head. “No, I’m just happy being a paramedic. You know, saving lives. Just today, I saved a teenager from getting smashed by a car by pushing him out of the way with telekinesis. So, technically, I am still using my powers for good.”

Mohinder smiled. “That you are, Peter. Well, here we are.”

“Thanks, how much do I owe you?”

“As always, it’s on me, Peter.”

Peter smiled back. “Thank you, Mohinder. I hope we run into each other again soon.”

Peter made way to exit the car, but accidentally broke off the vehicle’s door handle.

“Oops...” Peter apologized, “It looks like I absorbed your power. When I touched Sylar... I regained my power of empathic mimicry. I can’t believe that Sylar had that power...”

“He probably sliced someone’s head off to get it,” Mohinder assured.

“No...” Peter silently stated, “It’s a power that can only come from within.”

Mohinder sighed, annoyed that he and Peter were once again talking about that madman.

“Don’t worry about the door handle, Peter,” Mohinder said, changing the subject, “This cab’s a wreck on the contrary.”

Peter half-smiled, partially just because he finally had his power of enhanced strength back. Everything really was back to normal, wasn’t it?

Peter exited the cab, and thanked Mohinder a final time before shutting the cab’s door.

Peter watched as Mohinder departed down the street, with Peter smiling the whole time as the car drove off. Afterwards, Peter turned on his heel and made his way to the front door of the Petrelli mansion.

He took out his keys, found the proper one, and soon turned the knob and entered the mansion.

“Nathan?” Peter called out, “You back from the Company yet?”

No answer.

Oh well, Peter just took an educated guess that Nathan hadn’t arrived yet.

Then, he heard a faint crash come from one of the bedrooms.

The bedroom that had once belonged to Peter.

“Nathan?” Peter once more addressed, “Is that you in there?”

Still no answer.

Peter furrowed his brow. He had a strange feeling that... that something wasn’t quite right here.

He slowly treaded his way towards the room, finding that the door was cracked open.

“Nathan...” Peter whispered, opening the door.

And what he saw...

“Oh my God...”

“Nathan’s not here right now,” answered none other than Sylar...

Sylar was sitting on Peter’s bed, holding a framed photograph of Peter and Nathan side-by-side.

“But how...” Peter stuttered, “How is... is this possible?”

“Hello, Peter,” Sylar greeted, “Don’t look so surprised to see me.”

Peter gulped, and stepped forth into the room, shutting the door behind him.

“But I watched you burn.”

“I don’t know who you watched burn, but it wasn’t me.”

“The shapeshifter...” Peter murmured, “That’s who we watched burn. It was never you.”

“Bingo,” Sylar answered.

“What are you doing here, Sylar?” Peter sneered.

“Sylar? What are you talking about? My name is Gabriel. Gabriel Gray.”

Having stood close enough to Matt Parkman during Sylar’s false death, Peter had once again acquired the power of telepathy. Peter immediately started to read Sylar’s mind.

Why is he looking at me with such hatred? What have I done?

“What have you done?” spat Peter, “Let’s start with all of your serial killings.”

Gabriel appeared lost and confused. So innocent. “I only remember killing one person... I still feel guilt over it. I tried to hang myself so I wouldn’t hurt anyone else, but it didn’t take. The rope broke... If what you’re saying is true, then I’m sorry I didn’t die...”

Peter once more read Gabriel’s mind, and found that he was... telling the truth.”

Peter once again stepped further into the room, appearing perplexed as ever. This wasn’t Sylar, it really was Gabriel Gray. Lost and confused, just like Peter.

“If you don’t remember what you’ve done, then how do you remember my name?”

Gabriel continued to sit on Peter’s bed, eyeing Peter intently.

Gabriel swallowed nervously. “I don’t remember how I know you, I just... do. I remember that I... I loved you.”

Peter didn’t have a ring in his head; his lie detection telling him that Gabriel was telling nothing but the truth.

So Gabriel really loved Peter.

What the hell?

“You actually love me?” Peter inquired, more in the form of a statement than a question.

Gabriel cracked a small smile. “Yes, I do. I don’t know why or how, but I just know that I do... somehow.”

Peter’s right-hand instantly filled with Elle’s power of blue lightening in one hand, and in his left, Ando’s power of red lighting.

“I should stop time and kill you,” Peter said, though he didn’t sound so sure of himself.

Gabriel appeared frightened as ever. “How are you doing that?”

“What are you talking about,” Peter remarked, “You have powers too.”

Gabriel once again appeared confused. “The only power I have is moving things with my mind.”

Peter’s jaw nearly dropped. Sylar, well, ‘Gabriel’ really didn’t remember...

“Look inside yourself,” Peter suggested, “You’ll find your other powers there. If you don’t believe me, take that letter opener on the nightstand and cut yourself with it.”

Gabriel quivered. “You can’t be serious.”

“Just.. do it..”

Gabriel swallowed again, and picked open the letter opener as Peter had demanded.

“Now slit you wrist.”

“Why?” Gabriel questioned, “You can’t be serious," he repeated.

“Then I’ll make you see."

And with that said, Peter launched a powerful combination of Ellle’s and Ando’s power at Gabriel.

Gabriel cried out as his flesh burned with electricity scorching the flesh though his shirt. It wasn’t until then that Peter realized that Gabriel was wearing Nathan’s clothes.

When Peter ceased his attack on Gabriel, Gabriel was stunned to find that his wounds were... were healing themselves.

“How did I do that?” Gabriel asked, panic-stricken, “How are you doing what you just did?”

Peter sighed. This conversation was going nowhere.

“Sit with me?” Gabriel eventually asked, patting the side of the bed. It was somewhat... seductive.

Peter was hesitant to do as Gabriel had asked, but eventually he gave in and did what he was asked. He took a seat next to Gabriel on the bed.

“What are you doing here, Sy—Gabriel,” questioned Peter.

“I... I don’t know. I just... woke up here. I have no recollection of how I got here.”

“The Haitian...” Peter silently whispered, wondering if Sylar had been brainwashed, just as he had been before his trip to Ireland. But still, what was Sylar doing here?”

“I feel like I was led here to find you,” Gabriel silently whispered.

“Why?” spoke Peter, “So you can kill m—”

Peter was cut-off when Gabriel turned his head and kissed Peter on the lips. It wasn’t much, just a peck, but it was enough to make Peter jump in his seat.

“I love you Peter,” Gabriel repeated, “Even if you hate me. I’ve done some terrible things... if only that rope hadn’t broken...”

“Don’t say things like that,” whispered Peter, “I... I never wanted your death. You came back for me that day, to keep them from experimenting on me. Then you saved me again when my own father tried to kill me...”

“I did?” murmured Gabriel.

Peter nodded. “You always had two sides to you. I suppose the side of you I’m seeing now is like what I saw in the future. You were kind and gentle...”

“Peter...” Gabriel silently began, “Can I kiss you again...?”

Peter turned his head towards Gabriel, noting that Gabriel’s eyes were half-lidded.

And then, Peter gave in to temptation.

He made the first move and kissed Gabriel wholeheartedly. It wasn’t long before Gabriel wrapped his arms around Peter’s frame as the kiss deepened; Peter gripping the back of Gabriel’s hair. The kiss deepened according to Peter’s wishes. Gabriel let Peter take the lead, as Peter’s tongue invaded his mouth. Gabriel felt himself being lowered on the bed, with Peter on top of him; their mouths still interlocked together the whole while.

Peter knew where this was going.


---


At the company, Angela woke up at her desk, having fallen asleep.

She’d had a dream.

An awful one.

Hell, it was practically pornographic.

Scratch the ‘practically’...

“Oh my God,” Angela whispered to herself.

She had to get back to the Petrelli Mansion as soon as possible.

Be it may, her dreams were never wrong. It was probably already too late to stop what she had dreamed.

But she had to try.


---


Back at the Petrelli Mansion, Peter and Gabriel had already undressed themselves. Peter was on top of Gabriel, kissing him ardently. Frankly, it had been way too long since Peter had gotten laid, so his hormones were raging. Especially now. Gabriel seemed so innocent, so... so pure and innocuous. Hell, Gabriel still acted like he didn’t know what was happening. What to do. How to have sex at all.

“What do you want me to do?” Gabriel asked when Peter’s mouth broke away from his.

What Peter really wanted Gabriel to suck him off, but figuring Gabriel wouldn’t have a clue on how to administer a blow job, he just decided to skip that base and go straight for a home run.

“Lie back,” Peter whispered.

Gabriel did as he was told without question, appearing confused and even somewhat frightened. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what came next.

Using his telekinesis, Peter opened a nearby drawer from the nightstand adjacent to the bed as a small tube of lubricant flew into Peter’s left-hand.

“You’re a lefty just like me,” Gabriel silently joked.

“I suppose we do have a lot in common,” said Peter as he squirted some of the lubricant into his hand, “Now, try to relax.”

Gabriel once again did as he was told. Peter spread Gabriel’s legs apart and then inserted a finger into Gabriel’s incredibly tight entrance. Gabriel leapt at first; not used to the feeling of someone inside him. In fact, Gabriel had never had sex before until he had become Sylar... so in a way, this was his first time.

Peter added another finger into Gabriel and began to scissor his fingers.

Gabriel was already wild with lust, just as Peter was. His erection was straining against his belly as Peter continued to pleasure him. It wasn’t long before Peter had reached that spot inside of Gabriel that drove him wild with anticipation.

“Peter, please,” Gabriel mustered out between light moans and gasps for air.

Just as Peter was preparing to enter Gabriel, the phone rang.

“Goddamnit...” Peter huffed, reaching over Gabriel to answer the phone on the nightstand.

“What do you want?” Peter said into the phone’s base, sounding rather rude.

“It’s Matt Parkman, Peter. I have something... important that I need to tell you.”

“Make it quick,” Peter answered.

“I painted a picture just now, and... and you’re in it.”

“What exactly is it a picture of?”

Matt swallowed. “It’s a picture of... of you and Sylar... h-having sex...”

Peter froze momentarily. “Well... that’s ridiculous. Sylar’s dead and gone.”

“No Peter, he’s not. I’m sorry that I can’t tell you why...” Matt paused, “But the picture I drew. It’s going to happen eventually...”

It’s happening now, Peter thought.

“Look, I’m really busy right now, so you’ll have to call me back.”

Matt’s eyes narrowed. He was a smart man after all, and he could hear the wrath and the sheer lust in Peter’s voice.

It really was happening right now.

“Peter, don’t do it. Please, you have no idea of what’s going on. The truth is not what you think it is,” Matt warned.

“Look, I gotta go. Later,” Peter said before hanging up the phone.

“Who was that?” Gabriel inquired.

“The future has become the present...”

“Please Peter,” Gabriel once again implored, “Make love to me. Please, I need it to help me remember.”

Peter nodded, once again situating himself between Gabriel’s legs.

“Please Peter. I can’t... I can’t take it anymore.”

And neither could Peter. He was just embarrassed that Matt Parkman had drawn him and Gabriel doing, well, what they were about to do. But Peter wasn’t going to allow some stupid painting to ruin the mood.

Swiftly, Peter aligned his hard cock with Gabriel’s entrance, and without any warning, began to push himself in through Gabriel’s tight ring of muscle.

Gabriel moaned as Peter entered him. Gabriel had never done this before with another man, but he loved Peter. Trusted him. He was the only one he could trust. The only one who could forgive him for all his sins.

Once Peter was fully inside, Gabriel let out of yelp of pain.

“Am I hurting you?” asked Peter, “If I am, we don’t have to do this.”

“No,” Gabriel urged, “I want to do this with you.”

Peter lay his body on top of Gabriel and kissed him hungrily, pushing his cock deeper into Gabriel’s tightness.

And then, Peter began thrusting into the other man – hard and fast.

“Oh God,” Gabriel moaned, “Peter...”

“That’s it,” Peter cooed, “Just relax.”

Just relax...

Peter knew he shouldn’t be implanting commands into Gabriel’s head, but he couldn’t help it. When Peter had taken all of Sylar’s powers, the intuitive aptitude came with it. Peter had it under control, or so he thought. He was tempted to slit Gabriel’s scull and find out what made him tick. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

He continued to thrust into Gabriel. In and out in and out while Gabriel moaned the whole while.

Peter once again draped his body over Gabriel’s, fucking him in earnest but also in search of the other man’s lips.

Their mouths met once again, and Peter bit down into Gabriel’s lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Peter sucked it into his mouth before the tiny cut could heal itself. Gabriel relaxed as he had been ordered to, but that didn’t stop him from bucking his hips up to match Peter’s thrusts. At first it had been painful, but now all Gabriel felt was exquisite pleasure. A pleasure that he had never before endured.

“Please touch me,” Gabriel pleaded.

And Peter abided wholeheartedly. He took Gabriel’s hard cock in his hand and began to pump him in tune with his thrusts.

“Oh God,” Gabriel let out, “It’s so... so good.”

“You’re so tight,” Peter said between gasps, “I can barely take it. I can’t hold on much longer.”

“Neither... neither can I,” Gabriel half-groaned, half-moaned.

And then, Gabriel came, screaming Peter’s name in ecstasy; warm come shooting into Peter’s hand.

Peter kept going, taking Gabriel’s legs over either of his shoulders as he pounded into Gabriel, sweat dripping from his head and body alike; intermingled with Gabriel’s own.

Peter grabbed the back of Gabriel’s knees and pushed them down to Gabriel’s chest.

Gabriel was still going though the aftershocks of his orgasm, but he wouldn’t dare tell Peter to stop, because he truly did love Peter...

Peter could feel his own orgasm creeping up on him, and a few thrusts later, he came.

Hard.

Filling Gabriel’s insides with warm jets of come. Gabriel moaned once more as he felt Peter’s release filling his insides. It was a feeling like no other.

Still inside of Gabriel, Peter’s body collapsed on top of him. Both men were heaving for air. Peter gently pulled himself from Gabriel’s body and crashed down on the bed next to him, heaving just as Gabriel was. Peter pulled the covers over them before Gabriel leaned his head down to rest it on Peter’s chest.

Peter held onto Gabriel tightly, still dazed and wondering how the hell any of this had happened.

“I love you Peter,” Gabriel whispered.

“I know,” Peter responded, afraid to say ‘I love you’ back just yet. Peter was still so confused.

Peter held onto Gabriel lovingly nonetheless, praying that Sylar wouldn’t come out. Peter knew Sylar would be back eventually, and that there would be more fighting, more violence, and he didn’t won’t that.

Just then Peter’s concentration was broken when his door opened.

“Oh shit,” Peter cursed,, scrambling to pull the covers over himself, for there in the doorway, stood his mother...

“I dreamed that this would happen,” spoke Angela Petrelli, “But from where I’m standing it looks like I’m too late to prevent it. I knew you would figure out the truth eventually, I just never thought in my wildest dreams, so to speak, that it would be like this.”

“What truth?”

“Get dressed, both of you, and I’ll explain everything...”

--End