2010-03-12 11:19![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thewatchmaker
thewatchmakerCharacter: Sylar/Peter, Angela
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 1143
Rating: Work safe, some swearing
Notes: After the Wall and the end of S4
It smelled so green and fresh. I could hear a lawn mower in the distance carefully as it moved between the graves, cutting the grass until it looked like velvet. Without meaning too I counted the rows of tombstones across the x and y axis to come up with a total. I wouldn’t need to check the brochure they gave the tourists to see if I was right or the Wikipedia page on Arlington National Cemetery.
Spring was in the air, but it was still cold enough that I was wearing my coat with the collar up to keep the back of my neck warm. Or it might have been to hide my face. Our world has been turned upside down because of Claire’s swan dive last month, and I’m doing my best to slip into the shadows.
All that time I wasted trying to be the most special, and now that the general public knows about us, the last thing I want is for anyone to know my name. So far I’ve been lucky; there’ve been no mentions of Sylar or Gabriel Gray in the news. No alerts linking me to the murder of Senator Nathan Petrelli, or rumors that I’d taken his place. Not that I’d done it of my own free will at the time.
Being sane is a new experience. All those years in my head with Peter, behind the wall that Parkman built, changed me. I don’t know how to act. I keep falling back into Gabriel’s habit of hiding away with books and clocks, and Peter tells me I can’t be like that anymore. He’s a pushy little shit.
He told me not to come here. He said I didn’t need to see Nathan’s grave, and that I had apologized enough for what I did. Peter told me he understood why it happened, and that he forgave me. But that didn’t mean I was going to sweep my guilt under the rug. It’s my cross to bear. One of so many leaving splinters in my hands and scratches on my soul.
I was going to see them all. I’d travel across the country, and I’d see every grave that was filled because of me. Running from my guilt helped to shatter my mind. I had to face it to keep my sanity whole.
Nathan was first. Hell he’d been the last person I’d deliberately murdered. Well there was that guy helping me with the flat tire on Parkman’s road trip from Hell, but I wasn’t sure how to count him.
Peter stood a few feet away, his face tilted back to feel the kiss of the sun. The sun was lucky. We’d flown here together. He’d fought me, but in the end he said he got it. He’d show me where Nathan’s grave was.
“Ready?” I asked him, walking over to his side. I found myself there more and more often. He was my family now. I’d do anything for him, and even though he’d bitch about it, I know he’d do anything for me too. I was never going to be alone again. Although I would need to make sure Peter took regeneration from me someday, and then I’d have to make sure he kept it. Someday I’d find a way to fix him like he fixed me.
“Yep.” He gave me a smile and took a deep breath. He didn’t want to do this. I could see tears hiding in the corner of his eyes. “It’s been years for us, but it’s going to fucking hurt, Sylar.”
“I know, but I have to do this.”
“I know.” He patted my face and ran his fingers through my hair, giving my head a shake. “I think I need to do it too. I need him to understand that I’m not mad at you anymore.”
“You need him to understand that you love me,” that comes out as a whisper as we make our way through the aisles of the dead.
“That too.” His fingers curled around my wrist, then slipped to my fingers where he gave them a squeeze.
We made our way slowly. Knowing that he loved me helped to chase some of my demons away, and his hand seeking mine time and again kept me from getting curious and touching any of the tombstones. I knew just what he’d say if I tried too. Sylar don’t you have enough of your own grief not to read other peoples’?
I stood to the side, while Peter hunkered down in front of Nathan’s marker. I read the words over and over again, burning them into my memory. In a way I hoped this would be the end of Nathan’s thoughts impeding on mine. I wanted to build my own memories with Peter. I didn’t want Nathan’s overshadowing my new life.
“What is he doing here!” Angela’s voice made me flinch. We’d both been so lost in thought, our silent conversations with Nathan that she’d been able to come up on us without us realizing it. I felt like the Hobbits in Shelob’s lair. Any moment she’d wrap me in a cocoon and start sucking the life out of me.
Angela looked at me with such hatred. Her lips curled like she’d sucked on a lemon marinated in battery acid. I tried to step back, but not before her hand left its imprint on my cheek. My skin stung, and I couldn’t keep Nathan’s memories of being slapped by her out of my head.
“I’m paying my respects, Angela.” My old hatred of her flared up, forcing me to remember her fucking me over instead of Nathan’s love for her. For once I was happy to still have that darkness inside of me. I would never love Angela Petrelli again. Not after what she did to me. “To Nathan, not to you.”
“Leave him alone, Ma.” Peter glared at her. He stepped into protector mode, becoming the hero to defend me. “I brought him here. He’s making his peace with Nathan. If you don’t like it, you can climb back on your broomstick and go home.”
“You will not speak to me like that, Peter Petrelli. I am your mother, and that monster murdered your brother.”
“He paid for it with his life, Ma. After what you and Parkman did to him, he’s paid for Nathan. Hell he’s paid for all the others too. He saved Emma, and he helped me stop Samuel. So if anyone’s not welcome here, it’s you.”
“Peter. She’s your mother. I’ll go. I can come back when she’s not here.”
“Fuck that.” Peter stepped away from Angela, and cupped the back of my neck, pulling our foreheads together. His lips brushed mine, and I heard her gasp behind him. “Get used to it, Ma. It’s a brave new world for us all.”
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 1143
Rating: Work safe, some swearing
Notes: After the Wall and the end of S4
It smelled so green and fresh. I could hear a lawn mower in the distance carefully as it moved between the graves, cutting the grass until it looked like velvet. Without meaning too I counted the rows of tombstones across the x and y axis to come up with a total. I wouldn’t need to check the brochure they gave the tourists to see if I was right or the Wikipedia page on Arlington National Cemetery.
Spring was in the air, but it was still cold enough that I was wearing my coat with the collar up to keep the back of my neck warm. Or it might have been to hide my face. Our world has been turned upside down because of Claire’s swan dive last month, and I’m doing my best to slip into the shadows.
All that time I wasted trying to be the most special, and now that the general public knows about us, the last thing I want is for anyone to know my name. So far I’ve been lucky; there’ve been no mentions of Sylar or Gabriel Gray in the news. No alerts linking me to the murder of Senator Nathan Petrelli, or rumors that I’d taken his place. Not that I’d done it of my own free will at the time.
Being sane is a new experience. All those years in my head with Peter, behind the wall that Parkman built, changed me. I don’t know how to act. I keep falling back into Gabriel’s habit of hiding away with books and clocks, and Peter tells me I can’t be like that anymore. He’s a pushy little shit.
He told me not to come here. He said I didn’t need to see Nathan’s grave, and that I had apologized enough for what I did. Peter told me he understood why it happened, and that he forgave me. But that didn’t mean I was going to sweep my guilt under the rug. It’s my cross to bear. One of so many leaving splinters in my hands and scratches on my soul.
I was going to see them all. I’d travel across the country, and I’d see every grave that was filled because of me. Running from my guilt helped to shatter my mind. I had to face it to keep my sanity whole.
Nathan was first. Hell he’d been the last person I’d deliberately murdered. Well there was that guy helping me with the flat tire on Parkman’s road trip from Hell, but I wasn’t sure how to count him.
Peter stood a few feet away, his face tilted back to feel the kiss of the sun. The sun was lucky. We’d flown here together. He’d fought me, but in the end he said he got it. He’d show me where Nathan’s grave was.
“Ready?” I asked him, walking over to his side. I found myself there more and more often. He was my family now. I’d do anything for him, and even though he’d bitch about it, I know he’d do anything for me too. I was never going to be alone again. Although I would need to make sure Peter took regeneration from me someday, and then I’d have to make sure he kept it. Someday I’d find a way to fix him like he fixed me.
“Yep.” He gave me a smile and took a deep breath. He didn’t want to do this. I could see tears hiding in the corner of his eyes. “It’s been years for us, but it’s going to fucking hurt, Sylar.”
“I know, but I have to do this.”
“I know.” He patted my face and ran his fingers through my hair, giving my head a shake. “I think I need to do it too. I need him to understand that I’m not mad at you anymore.”
“You need him to understand that you love me,” that comes out as a whisper as we make our way through the aisles of the dead.
“That too.” His fingers curled around my wrist, then slipped to my fingers where he gave them a squeeze.
We made our way slowly. Knowing that he loved me helped to chase some of my demons away, and his hand seeking mine time and again kept me from getting curious and touching any of the tombstones. I knew just what he’d say if I tried too. Sylar don’t you have enough of your own grief not to read other peoples’?
I stood to the side, while Peter hunkered down in front of Nathan’s marker. I read the words over and over again, burning them into my memory. In a way I hoped this would be the end of Nathan’s thoughts impeding on mine. I wanted to build my own memories with Peter. I didn’t want Nathan’s overshadowing my new life.
“What is he doing here!” Angela’s voice made me flinch. We’d both been so lost in thought, our silent conversations with Nathan that she’d been able to come up on us without us realizing it. I felt like the Hobbits in Shelob’s lair. Any moment she’d wrap me in a cocoon and start sucking the life out of me.
Angela looked at me with such hatred. Her lips curled like she’d sucked on a lemon marinated in battery acid. I tried to step back, but not before her hand left its imprint on my cheek. My skin stung, and I couldn’t keep Nathan’s memories of being slapped by her out of my head.
“I’m paying my respects, Angela.” My old hatred of her flared up, forcing me to remember her fucking me over instead of Nathan’s love for her. For once I was happy to still have that darkness inside of me. I would never love Angela Petrelli again. Not after what she did to me. “To Nathan, not to you.”
“Leave him alone, Ma.” Peter glared at her. He stepped into protector mode, becoming the hero to defend me. “I brought him here. He’s making his peace with Nathan. If you don’t like it, you can climb back on your broomstick and go home.”
“You will not speak to me like that, Peter Petrelli. I am your mother, and that monster murdered your brother.”
“He paid for it with his life, Ma. After what you and Parkman did to him, he’s paid for Nathan. Hell he’s paid for all the others too. He saved Emma, and he helped me stop Samuel. So if anyone’s not welcome here, it’s you.”
“Peter. She’s your mother. I’ll go. I can come back when she’s not here.”
“Fuck that.” Peter stepped away from Angela, and cupped the back of my neck, pulling our foreheads together. His lips brushed mine, and I heard her gasp behind him. “Get used to it, Ma. It’s a brave new world for us all.”
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