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Character: Sylar/Peter
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 1119
Rating: Work Safe lots of angst
Notes: verse - the wall, missing scene
Prompt: Runnin’ With the Devil Vol2.Week29![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
scifi_muses
It’s cold. It’s dark and I didn’t want to go there, but I have to. Peter’s gone back to the Wall, leaving me alone. I’ve tried to keep busy with the clocks and my books, but they aren’t working. I noticed the crack two weeks ago. The space behind the bookcase where I’d strung the Christmas lights into the next apartment. The spot where I’d used my telekinesis to slice through that wall to hide my dark secrets.
The gap wasn’t there when I first came home to the apartment, but it’s there now. It was tiny at first, only a cockroach would be able to work out of it. That was how I noticed it. I thought I saw something slither over the baseboard. In our quiet world there are no birds, no insects, no life other than the two of us, so I’d jumped out of my chair to see. There was nothing there, but the tiny crack between my sanctuary and my insanity.
It’s bigger now. I can’t believe Peter didn’t notice. A mouse could go through it or a small rat. I used to be able to open it with a thought, but now I’m powerless. I have to curl my fingers along the edges and pull the shelf away.
A blast of fetid air hits my face, as if every single corpse that I was responsible for was decomposing in the hidden room. Gagging I put my arm over my nose and mouth. I can see the golden glow of the lights showing me the way inside. They aren’t plugged in, but they’re still working.
The map is covered in the visages of the dead in all their horrific glory with their heads cut open. Blood is dripping from the images that I pinned there beneath the strings like some demented spider waiting to suck the life out of them.
“Kill him. He’s the one keeping you here.” I turn to face a dark silhouette although I don’t need to. It’s my voice that I’m hearing. “If you kill Peter, we’ll be free. Then we can go finish what needs to be done Angela, Parkman and Bennet. You were stupid to think you could trust Parkman to help you. I’m the only one you can trust. I always have been.”
“I’m not a killer. Not anymore. I don’t want to be.” I sound pathetic.
“Pathetic and weak, Gabriel, remember how they treated you. They made you think you were Nathan! They ripped out your soul, and brainwashed you for fuck’s sake. Listen to me!”
For every step he takes toward me, I back up two until I’m back in my apartment. The cloying stink of death and old blood caught in my nostrils. I slam the secret door shut, then shove a pile of books against it and then another for good measure.
“I won’t let you out. You’re gone.” It the distance I can hear Peter’s hammer fall on the bricks from Hell.
***
The church wasn’t hard to find. I’d seen it’s steeple from the rooftop where Peter likes to hide from me. I hadn’t been to it in all the years that I’ve been here, and now I knew it was where I needed to go. I needed to repent. I needed to find God. I needed to find the strength to keep him locked away. I needed to protect Peter from who I used to be, from who I still wanted to be deep down inside.
My fingers dipped into the Holy Water font as I stepped through the threshold, but it was long dry all that remained was a thin layer of oily dust. I traced a cross into the grime and then brought that to my forehead, making the sign of the cross. It had been almost four years since anyone had been inside, but I could still smell the incense and the wax from the candles. I closed my eyes and breathed it in until the haunting stench of death went away.
The sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, and I held my hand up, watching the colored light cover my skin, marking me with the stories of Christ’s life as I made my way slowly to the altar, remembering taking the path when I was an altar boy. Back then I’d been bored and counted the steps it took. My legs are so much longer now that it took a third less to get to the chancel.
I dropped to my knees, digging my fingers into my thighs while I tried to find my voice, but my sobbing kept me from doing more than mumbling for forgiveness. Two hours later, when my tears had run dry, I pressed my forehead into the tiles, feeling the cold that had already seeped into my legs, making them numb.
“Please God, I won’t be bad anymore. I won’t hurt anyone again.” I rubbed my nose on my sleeve and choked back another sob. “I won’t hurt Peter. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I killed. I’m sorry I stopped believing in you. Please help me be strong. Please help me fight the temptation. Make him leave me alone. Make him go away.”
“Sylar?” I’d fallen asleep, begging for help and forgiveness only to be jerked awake by Peter touching my face. He was on his knees next to me, and pulled me into his lap, stroking my hair. “Hey are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said, pulling away and scrambling back out of his reach. I didn’t trust what I’d do. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and cry, but the dark corner of my brain where the monster was waiting wanted me to wrap my hands around his throat. “I came to talk to God. You probably think that’s stupid.”
“Nope.” He looked at me with his dark eyes so full of caring that it made my heart ache. “I talk to God too. Although I don’t normally nap on the floor, the pews are better for that the woods warmer.”
“I’ll remember that next time.”
“Come on. It’s time for dinner. I found some beef stew, so we’re having something different tonight. I’m getting sick of Spaghetti-Os.” He got up and reached down to pull me onto my feet.
“I asked God to show me a sign.”
“Well maybe beef stew’s a sign.” He kept holding my arm as he lead me out into the night.
“You’re silly, Peter.”
“And you’re crazy, Sylar. Now shut the doors, so we can go home. I’m starving, and your tape worm is probably gnawing at your guts.”
“That’s disgusting, Peter.” But he was right. I was hungry too.
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 1119
Rating: Work Safe lots of angst
Notes: verse - the wall, missing scene
Prompt: Runnin’ With the Devil Vol2.Week29
scifi_musesIt’s cold. It’s dark and I didn’t want to go there, but I have to. Peter’s gone back to the Wall, leaving me alone. I’ve tried to keep busy with the clocks and my books, but they aren’t working. I noticed the crack two weeks ago. The space behind the bookcase where I’d strung the Christmas lights into the next apartment. The spot where I’d used my telekinesis to slice through that wall to hide my dark secrets.
The gap wasn’t there when I first came home to the apartment, but it’s there now. It was tiny at first, only a cockroach would be able to work out of it. That was how I noticed it. I thought I saw something slither over the baseboard. In our quiet world there are no birds, no insects, no life other than the two of us, so I’d jumped out of my chair to see. There was nothing there, but the tiny crack between my sanctuary and my insanity.
It’s bigger now. I can’t believe Peter didn’t notice. A mouse could go through it or a small rat. I used to be able to open it with a thought, but now I’m powerless. I have to curl my fingers along the edges and pull the shelf away.
A blast of fetid air hits my face, as if every single corpse that I was responsible for was decomposing in the hidden room. Gagging I put my arm over my nose and mouth. I can see the golden glow of the lights showing me the way inside. They aren’t plugged in, but they’re still working.
The map is covered in the visages of the dead in all their horrific glory with their heads cut open. Blood is dripping from the images that I pinned there beneath the strings like some demented spider waiting to suck the life out of them.
“Kill him. He’s the one keeping you here.” I turn to face a dark silhouette although I don’t need to. It’s my voice that I’m hearing. “If you kill Peter, we’ll be free. Then we can go finish what needs to be done Angela, Parkman and Bennet. You were stupid to think you could trust Parkman to help you. I’m the only one you can trust. I always have been.”
“I’m not a killer. Not anymore. I don’t want to be.” I sound pathetic.
“Pathetic and weak, Gabriel, remember how they treated you. They made you think you were Nathan! They ripped out your soul, and brainwashed you for fuck’s sake. Listen to me!”
For every step he takes toward me, I back up two until I’m back in my apartment. The cloying stink of death and old blood caught in my nostrils. I slam the secret door shut, then shove a pile of books against it and then another for good measure.
“I won’t let you out. You’re gone.” It the distance I can hear Peter’s hammer fall on the bricks from Hell.
***
The church wasn’t hard to find. I’d seen it’s steeple from the rooftop where Peter likes to hide from me. I hadn’t been to it in all the years that I’ve been here, and now I knew it was where I needed to go. I needed to repent. I needed to find God. I needed to find the strength to keep him locked away. I needed to protect Peter from who I used to be, from who I still wanted to be deep down inside.
My fingers dipped into the Holy Water font as I stepped through the threshold, but it was long dry all that remained was a thin layer of oily dust. I traced a cross into the grime and then brought that to my forehead, making the sign of the cross. It had been almost four years since anyone had been inside, but I could still smell the incense and the wax from the candles. I closed my eyes and breathed it in until the haunting stench of death went away.
The sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, and I held my hand up, watching the colored light cover my skin, marking me with the stories of Christ’s life as I made my way slowly to the altar, remembering taking the path when I was an altar boy. Back then I’d been bored and counted the steps it took. My legs are so much longer now that it took a third less to get to the chancel.
I dropped to my knees, digging my fingers into my thighs while I tried to find my voice, but my sobbing kept me from doing more than mumbling for forgiveness. Two hours later, when my tears had run dry, I pressed my forehead into the tiles, feeling the cold that had already seeped into my legs, making them numb.
“Please God, I won’t be bad anymore. I won’t hurt anyone again.” I rubbed my nose on my sleeve and choked back another sob. “I won’t hurt Peter. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I killed. I’m sorry I stopped believing in you. Please help me be strong. Please help me fight the temptation. Make him leave me alone. Make him go away.”
“Sylar?” I’d fallen asleep, begging for help and forgiveness only to be jerked awake by Peter touching my face. He was on his knees next to me, and pulled me into his lap, stroking my hair. “Hey are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said, pulling away and scrambling back out of his reach. I didn’t trust what I’d do. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and cry, but the dark corner of my brain where the monster was waiting wanted me to wrap my hands around his throat. “I came to talk to God. You probably think that’s stupid.”
“Nope.” He looked at me with his dark eyes so full of caring that it made my heart ache. “I talk to God too. Although I don’t normally nap on the floor, the pews are better for that the woods warmer.”
“I’ll remember that next time.”
“Come on. It’s time for dinner. I found some beef stew, so we’re having something different tonight. I’m getting sick of Spaghetti-Os.” He got up and reached down to pull me onto my feet.
“I asked God to show me a sign.”
“Well maybe beef stew’s a sign.” He kept holding my arm as he lead me out into the night.
“You’re silly, Peter.”
“And you’re crazy, Sylar. Now shut the doors, so we can go home. I’m starving, and your tape worm is probably gnawing at your guts.”
“That’s disgusting, Peter.” But he was right. I was hungry too.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 12:05 am (UTC)From:Hugs,
Snupper
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Date: 2010-02-26 01:05 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 12:20 am (UTC)From:I can haz morr Petlar pleez?
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Date: 2010-02-26 01:05 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 12:51 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 01:05 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 01:21 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 01:23 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 03:01 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 01:02 am (UTC)From:Awesome job! =3
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Date: 2010-02-26 01:06 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 09:04 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-26 02:10 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-27 06:48 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-02-27 07:07 pm (UTC)From:I like that
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Date: 2010-02-27 07:10 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-03-01 01:16 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-03-01 01:19 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-03-12 02:47 am (UTC)From:*stares at her yogurt for a second*
I'm still eating you. You'll just have to spell it out REALLY quick.
Loved the emotion on this one!
no subject
Date: 2010-03-12 02:53 am (UTC)From: