2010-10-02 14:54![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thewatchmaker
thewatchmakerCharacter: Sylar, Future Peter
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 666 (yeah I giggled too)
Rating: PG
Prompts: #023 The Devil's Contract for 100_fairytales 18/100
Notes: "Five Years Gone" written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
flying_monkees.
“I fucking hate this, and I hate you.” Peter snarled, raking his hair back from his scarred face. He was vibrating with anger, and he couldn’t stop moving. He kept pacing back and forth across the floor of the Oval Office. He picked up an antique clock that I was particularly found of. It had been in the White House for over a century. It ran better now than it ever had before thanks to my care. I saw his muscles tense, felt his rage transferred to he clock, and knew he was about to throw it either across the room or at me.
“Don’t throw the clock, Peter. It never did anything to hurt you.” I wasn’t wearing Nathan’s visage. I was myself, dressed in my favorite black coat and perched at the edge of the President’s seat. “It’s a national treasure, and I’d have to have you arrested.”
“You don’t have any power here!” I wish he could learn to talk to me without raising his voice. “I should have killed you.”
“You tried. We tried to kill each other, leveled a building which is a vast improvement on your usual level of destruction. The entire world knows what you’re capable of.” I smiled at the twitch beneath his left eye when I reminded him of what he’d done. The scar was so different. Peter wasn’t the innocent puppy who challenged me at Kirby Plaza. He wasn’t Nathan Petrelli’s little brother either. This Peter was a hero. He would be the death of me if I could die that is. “Sure your brother blamed me. My face is the one that people see on the news every time one of us loses control. How fair is that when it should be you?”
“Just make your point, Sylar!” I crossed the room, his dark coat billowing behind him. “What the fuck do you want? Didn’t your little stunt of flying blow your cover? People will know you’re not Nathan now.”
“That’s why you’re here, Peter. Can you imagine the chaos seeing me fly caused? You’re going to help me make a smooth transition, so this country isn’t destroyed by the mess your bother left behind.”
“My brother’s mess? This is all your doing!”
“No it’s not. I didn’t blow up. I didn’t start the camps, the genetic testing, that was all Nathan. I meant it when I said he’d turned against his own kind, because he did.” I locked eyes with him, daring him to try anything else. “I have lie detection, so you do too now. Read me. See if I’m lying to you.”
Peter jerked back from the desk like it was on fire. I could see him focus, trying to call up the power he’d absorbed from me. He had much better control than the puppy did too. Good he’d be of some use to me.”
“I like you, Peter.” That should show him what it feels like when someone lies around you, and the nauseated look on his face told me it worked. “That’s what a lie tastes like. Now let’s talk about the truth. Let’s talk about how you’re going to help me save the Presidency.”
“Wait, you don’t want me to clear your name?” He narrowed his eyes, and took a step back to the desk as I pulled a bottle of Jack Daniels from the bottom draw and poured us each a stiff drink. “What do you want?”
“I want to make a deal.” I used telekinesis to send the glass into his hand. “And you’re going to take it.”
“And if I don’t, what? You kill a shitload of people?” Peter drained the glass in one gulp, then took the bottle to refill for himself.
“No. If you don’t help me, I kill your entire family. Why kill strangers when I can kill the Petrellis?” I leaned back, shifting into Nathan. “Now sit down while we figure out the lie that will keep me in this office.”
100 Fairytales Table
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 666 (yeah I giggled too)
Rating: PG
Prompts: #023 The Devil's Contract for 100_fairytales 18/100
Notes: "Five Years Gone" written for
flying_monkees.“I fucking hate this, and I hate you.” Peter snarled, raking his hair back from his scarred face. He was vibrating with anger, and he couldn’t stop moving. He kept pacing back and forth across the floor of the Oval Office. He picked up an antique clock that I was particularly found of. It had been in the White House for over a century. It ran better now than it ever had before thanks to my care. I saw his muscles tense, felt his rage transferred to he clock, and knew he was about to throw it either across the room or at me.
“Don’t throw the clock, Peter. It never did anything to hurt you.” I wasn’t wearing Nathan’s visage. I was myself, dressed in my favorite black coat and perched at the edge of the President’s seat. “It’s a national treasure, and I’d have to have you arrested.”
“You don’t have any power here!” I wish he could learn to talk to me without raising his voice. “I should have killed you.”
“You tried. We tried to kill each other, leveled a building which is a vast improvement on your usual level of destruction. The entire world knows what you’re capable of.” I smiled at the twitch beneath his left eye when I reminded him of what he’d done. The scar was so different. Peter wasn’t the innocent puppy who challenged me at Kirby Plaza. He wasn’t Nathan Petrelli’s little brother either. This Peter was a hero. He would be the death of me if I could die that is. “Sure your brother blamed me. My face is the one that people see on the news every time one of us loses control. How fair is that when it should be you?”
“Just make your point, Sylar!” I crossed the room, his dark coat billowing behind him. “What the fuck do you want? Didn’t your little stunt of flying blow your cover? People will know you’re not Nathan now.”
“That’s why you’re here, Peter. Can you imagine the chaos seeing me fly caused? You’re going to help me make a smooth transition, so this country isn’t destroyed by the mess your bother left behind.”
“My brother’s mess? This is all your doing!”
“No it’s not. I didn’t blow up. I didn’t start the camps, the genetic testing, that was all Nathan. I meant it when I said he’d turned against his own kind, because he did.” I locked eyes with him, daring him to try anything else. “I have lie detection, so you do too now. Read me. See if I’m lying to you.”
Peter jerked back from the desk like it was on fire. I could see him focus, trying to call up the power he’d absorbed from me. He had much better control than the puppy did too. Good he’d be of some use to me.”
“I like you, Peter.” That should show him what it feels like when someone lies around you, and the nauseated look on his face told me it worked. “That’s what a lie tastes like. Now let’s talk about the truth. Let’s talk about how you’re going to help me save the Presidency.”
“Wait, you don’t want me to clear your name?” He narrowed his eyes, and took a step back to the desk as I pulled a bottle of Jack Daniels from the bottom draw and poured us each a stiff drink. “What do you want?”
“I want to make a deal.” I used telekinesis to send the glass into his hand. “And you’re going to take it.”
“And if I don’t, what? You kill a shitload of people?” Peter drained the glass in one gulp, then took the bottle to refill for himself.
“No. If you don’t help me, I kill your entire family. Why kill strangers when I can kill the Petrellis?” I leaned back, shifting into Nathan. “Now sit down while we figure out the lie that will keep me in this office.”
100 Fairytales Table
