watchmakersylar | Letter to Peter

Character: Sylar and Peter
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 779
Rating: PG
Notes: Missing scene from 'the Wall'. SPOILERS FOR THE WALL.
There will be more of these.

empath_peter and I are RPing the missing years on

heroesreduxrpg
Prompt:Marcus Aurelius: There was a dream that was Rome. You could only whisper it. Anything more than a whisper and it would vanish, it was so fragile.

scifi_muses

I’m sorry.

You don’t believe me. I’ve told you so many times that even I’ve lost count over the weeks, months and years that we’ve been alone. I never lose count. I can’t, but for this one thing I have.

Day after day you beat the wall with that sledge hammer. Every hour I hear it echoing through the deserted city, the sound bouncing between the empty buildings. No one else can hear it but me.

Tonight you’re sleeping, curled on the sofa in my apartment. You said you didn’t need to eat or sleep because this isn’t real, but after a week you’ve finally had enough. I can’t blame you. I’m exhausted too.

But as horrible as this existence is, I’m thankful you’re here with me. You and I are bound together, Peter. I’m the darkness while you are the light. You came here, and it stopped raining. You brought the sun into this hell that we’re trapped in.

You brought your anger, your hatred and your need for vengeance to me for what I did to Nathan. Three emotions that I understand better than any others, your pain ripped open the scabs that had covered the sea of guilt that fills my soul. You made me stop wallowing in my own misery and face up to what I’d done to you.

For once in my life it wasn’t about me or some vague idea of a God who obviously doesn’t care what I do. It was about me taking someone away from you. Someone so precious that it scarred the lion’s heart that you have beating in your chest, and now you came to me to save a stranger.

I don’t care about Emma. I’ve never met her, but I do care about you. I have always felt a connection between us. Our destiny’s bind us together. When I went to Kirby Plaza all those years ago I was trying to do the right thing, to stop you from destroying New York. I wasn’t there to kill you. I was there to save you and everyone else.

But no one believes that.

No one ever believes that I can do the right thing. Sure I tried to kill you in Mohinder’s apartment, but that was the heat of the moment. He’d really pissed me off. He was so good at that.

When your mother said we were family it was the happiest moment in my life. It wasn’t because I wanted Angela and Arthur to be my parents. It was because I wanted you to be my brother. I always wanted a brother. Someone to make up stories with, and someone who would be there if I had a nightmare. Although I guess you being younger, you’d have teased me about that.

I’m having less nightmares since you arrived. I was afraid to sleep before, and now it’s OK. No more visions of my real mother’s death, or how I accidentally killed my mom to make me wake up screaming.

But I still have one memory that will not fade, and that is killing Nathan. I didn’t need to kill him. I did it out of spite. I did it out of jealousy. He had you, and I didn’t. You loved him, and even when we thought we were brothers, you didn’t love me. I was the eternal monster for you, so I had to prove it to you. Because Peter, if I couldn’t have your love, I would have your hate.

I needed you to hate me. I think I still do. I wish it was different. I’m watching you sleep, and I want to crawl onto the floor next to you, pull you into my arms. I want to make your nightmares go away. I want to tell you that I love you, and to thank you for being with me. But I can’t. If I did, you’d hit me with that fucking sledge hammer.

So here I sit, sipping lukewarm tea, listening to you snore. Yes Peter, you snore, but I don’t mind. On the rare occasions we both sleep, waking up to the sound of your breathing, snoring or bitching makes me feel alive. It gives me hope that someday we will find our way to freedom.

***
Peter stirs on the sofa, so I carefully shut my journal, slipping the dust jacket from Pillars of the Earth over it. I set it on a pile of other books on the table, and then head for the kitchen to make some more tea. Someday I may be brave enough to show it to him, but I don’t think that will be anytime soon.