2010-09-22 19:24![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thewatchmaker
thewatchmakerCharacter: Sylar, mentions of Virginia and Peter
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 604
Rating: G (I know - it's a miracle)
Prompt: #12 The Youth Transformed for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100_fairytales
Black Lodge forscifi_muses
Notes: After the Wall
It’s deathly quiet. All I can hear is my own breath and the sound of my whiskers being scraped from my face in my tiny bathroom. For years I’d had the comfort of the dripping facet in my mother’s bathtub to keep me company while I got ready for school or work.
All those mornings when she promised she’d ask the super to fix the leak, but she never did. She was afraid he’d raise the rent if she asked him to fix anything, and she wouldn’t let me try. I could fix a watch that cost thousands of dollars, but my mother wouldn’t trust me to fix her dripping facet. I can still picture the spreading rust stain on the porcelain that always stank of too much bleach.
I’m shaving closer than I normally bother. It’s a special day. I’m going to see Virginia. It’s been months since I spoke to her last, and I have a lot to catch her up on. So much has changed since the last time I spent time with her.
As I’m about to turn on the water to rinse my face clean, I hear a ticking sound that has nothing to do with any watch or clock in my apartment. It sounds alien, and it sends a shiver down my spine. Setting my razor on the sink, careful not to cut myself on the straight edge, I turn to see something brown slither between the folds of my shower curtain. Peering closer I can see the antennae poking up, watching me in ways that I cannot fathom.
Mom would have been horrified. I remember her screaming for me to come kill any bug that came into her kitchen or bathroom. I wondered who she called for help when I was gone. That didn’t seem important then, but it matters to me now. With a flick of my fingers, my telekinesis so much faster than any cockroach, I pick it up, holding it in midair before sending it into the swirling abyss of my toilet. Just for good measure I slice it in three sections before it’s sucked into the New York sewers where it was probably born.
By now I can hear the shrill whistle of my tea kettle, and I rush to wash my face then tug on a black shirt on my way to the kitchen. I take it off the heat, then pour the steaming water into a waiting Thermos while I float four tea bags of Earl Grey in it for as long as it takes me to put together a pair of peanut butter sandwiches. As soon as the tea is done brewing I put together my meager picnic grab my coat and head out into the street.
It’s a cool morning. The sky is still hazy and gray as I make my way to Queens where Virginia is waiting. Leaves crunch under my feet as I walk through the church yard, and the cemetery gate clanks shut behind me as I step onto the hallowed ground,. as I make my way between the graves to the stone angel that watches over my mother.
“Hi mom,” I said as I dropped down to talk, pulling out my tea and a cup for each of us. “I made your favorite kind with grape jelly.” I’ll eat my sandwich that way too today, even if I prefer strawberry or no jam at all with my peanut butter. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by. Something amazing happened, and I want to tell you all about it. And I need to tell you about Peter.”
100 Fairytales Table
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 604
Rating: G (I know - it's a miracle)
Prompt: #12 The Youth Transformed for
100_fairytales Black Lodge for
scifi_muses Notes: After the Wall
It’s deathly quiet. All I can hear is my own breath and the sound of my whiskers being scraped from my face in my tiny bathroom. For years I’d had the comfort of the dripping facet in my mother’s bathtub to keep me company while I got ready for school or work.
All those mornings when she promised she’d ask the super to fix the leak, but she never did. She was afraid he’d raise the rent if she asked him to fix anything, and she wouldn’t let me try. I could fix a watch that cost thousands of dollars, but my mother wouldn’t trust me to fix her dripping facet. I can still picture the spreading rust stain on the porcelain that always stank of too much bleach.
I’m shaving closer than I normally bother. It’s a special day. I’m going to see Virginia. It’s been months since I spoke to her last, and I have a lot to catch her up on. So much has changed since the last time I spent time with her.
As I’m about to turn on the water to rinse my face clean, I hear a ticking sound that has nothing to do with any watch or clock in my apartment. It sounds alien, and it sends a shiver down my spine. Setting my razor on the sink, careful not to cut myself on the straight edge, I turn to see something brown slither between the folds of my shower curtain. Peering closer I can see the antennae poking up, watching me in ways that I cannot fathom.
Mom would have been horrified. I remember her screaming for me to come kill any bug that came into her kitchen or bathroom. I wondered who she called for help when I was gone. That didn’t seem important then, but it matters to me now. With a flick of my fingers, my telekinesis so much faster than any cockroach, I pick it up, holding it in midair before sending it into the swirling abyss of my toilet. Just for good measure I slice it in three sections before it’s sucked into the New York sewers where it was probably born.
By now I can hear the shrill whistle of my tea kettle, and I rush to wash my face then tug on a black shirt on my way to the kitchen. I take it off the heat, then pour the steaming water into a waiting Thermos while I float four tea bags of Earl Grey in it for as long as it takes me to put together a pair of peanut butter sandwiches. As soon as the tea is done brewing I put together my meager picnic grab my coat and head out into the street.
It’s a cool morning. The sky is still hazy and gray as I make my way to Queens where Virginia is waiting. Leaves crunch under my feet as I walk through the church yard, and the cemetery gate clanks shut behind me as I step onto the hallowed ground,. as I make my way between the graves to the stone angel that watches over my mother.
“Hi mom,” I said as I dropped down to talk, pulling out my tea and a cup for each of us. “I made your favorite kind with grape jelly.” I’ll eat my sandwich that way too today, even if I prefer strawberry or no jam at all with my peanut butter. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by. Something amazing happened, and I want to tell you all about it. And I need to tell you about Peter.”
100 Fairytales Table
