![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Character: Sylar/Peter
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thewatchmaker
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 2151
Rating: PG - Slash no porn
Prompts:
Connor MacLeod: I'm not lonely. I've got everything I need right here.
Rachel: Oh no you don't. You refuse to let anyone love you.
Connor MacLeod: Love is for poets. for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
scifi_muses
020 All Stick Together for100_fairytales 37/100
Notes: Written for the 2010sylar_peter Advent Calendar. This is set after the end of the series.
It was snowing which wasn’t much of a surprise. It was Christmas Eve, and it is New York. I was coming home from the shop where I’d spent the day wrapping gifts of watches and clocks for several customers. It was strange to be back at work there after all that I’d been and done, but it was comforting too.
Wrapping presents for other people, and decorating the shop with a few strands of Christmas lights was as far into the holiday spirit as I was going to get. Christmas was my mother’s favorite holiday, and I wasn’t ready to face it alone. So I pasted on a happy face for people and trudged my way home through the snow, past the blinking lights, the scrambling rude shoppers and a few genuinely nice people along the way.
I was shivering when I dropped into the bakery down the block from my shop. I couldn’t resist it. I’d been fantasizing about the smell of fresh bread all day, and after years trapped in my imaginary hell, I pretty much ate whatever I wanted when I wanted it. It would be a nice treat for my dinner to have fresh sour dough to go along with my canned clam chowder.
“Gabriel, how are you?” The owner came out and gave me a warm hug. I’d known Henry for years, and he’d always been nice to me. He smelled like cinnamon and sugar, and that brought back some more good memories. His hair was a lot grayer, the crow’s feet deeper, than they had been when he’d given me cookies when I was little, and my dad would take me to the shop with him. “We haven’t seen you in forever.”
“I’ve been away, but I’m back now.” And eventually I’ll remember that my name is Gabriel, and not look for someone else. “I reopened the shop.”
I’m still amazed it was there when I came looking for it after Peter and I had defeated Samuel. I always thought the Company had erased my past the way I tried to erase Gabriel, but I was wrong. My old apartment was gone though; the mirror to my prison from Parkman’s tomb had been remodeled and rented out long ago. I had a new place to live now. It was bigger, and it’d take me a long time to fill it with books.
Peter spent a lot of time helping me make it a home. I missed him. He’d been caught up in family events since Thanksgiving when Angela insisted he go home and spend the day with his nephews and Claire. I wasn’t invited, but Peter brought me a picnic of leftovers the next day. I figured the same would happen when he could get away from the Christmas festivities. He’d knock on my door the day after Christmas with a basket full of foil wrapped leftovers and a kiss. I’d be spending Christmas Eve and Christmas alone this year like all the years to come.
“Gabriel?” Henry touched me on the shoulder. “You were a million miles away, son. This is your first Christmas without your mother, isn’t it?”
“It’s the second.” I gave him a watery smile. Hell it was more like the tenth for me, because unlike Peter I counted my years behind the Wall in real time. I had to. I had to count the years that I was good, the years I didn’t kill. Those were the years where I learned how to be human. “I’d like a loaf of sour dough, and some chocolate and banana muffins, please.”
“You’re welcome to stop by our place if you get lonely, Gabe. We’re cooking up a turkey, and there’s more than enough to share,” he said as he put my order into a pair of brown paper bags. “You haven’t seen the family since you were in high school with April.”
“Thank you, but I’ve got a friend coming to spend the holiday with me.” It was a lie, but I didn’t want him to think I was pathetic.
“Well you can always bring your friend by too.” He passed me the sack, but refused to take my money. “Merry Christmas, Gabriel.”
“Merry Christmas, Henry. Say ‘hello’ to your family for me, please.” I waved as I stepped out the door, the warmth of the bread quickly sucked away by the cold air.
By the time I got home, the bread and muffins were cold, but they still smelled good. The building was warm, and it was nice to get into a working elevator instead of trudging up several flights of stairs to get home. It was still an old building. I didn’t want to live in a glass tower in Manhattan. I was more at home in Brooklyn.
I was nearly run over by a trio of kids racing down the hall. They were playing with plastic airplanes, and for a moment I was overwhelmed with one of Nathan’s memories of playing like that with his sons. I blinked it away as they ran past me. They didn’t haunt me often, Nathan’s ghost had faded with time, but I could still taste the bitter guilt on my tongue that they were flavored with.
Peter told me to call him when it happened, but I didn’t want to bother him. So I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and finished walking to the end of the hall where my apartment was waiting. Along the way I could hear people laughing behind their decorated doors and smell their dinners cooking. It was louder than it normally was, and I knew there were a few families celebrating tonight.
I could smell someone cooking a ham when I get to my door. The spices and the delicious aroma made my stomach growl and mouth water. I should have bought myself a little ham. I could eat it for a few days, and have my own little celebration. But all I’ve got is my bread and a few cans of clam chowder and chili to eat. Since no one was watching me, I used my telekinesis to unlock the door and push it open. I didn’t use my powers often, but that one will always be my favorite.
“Oh crap!” Peter looked over at me from on top of my step ladder. He had yards of frilly gold garland wrapped around his neck and a roll of tape caught in his teeth. “You’re early! I’m not done yet.”
There are so many strings of lights glowing and blinking that I have to wonder if he stole them from the tree at Rockefeller Center. A big tree, a real tree, is standing in the corner, decorated from top to bottom with Star Trek ornaments and colored glass balls with a big gold star on top. The whole place smells like ham and pine tree.
“You,” I can’t go on. I’m too choked up and amazed. “I thought you had to spend Christmas with you family?”
“You’re my family. I’m spending it with you.” Peter hopped down from the ladder, leaving a trail of garland behind him as he walked over to me. He took the bags from my arms, and pushed the door closed. Looping the end of the garland over my head, he tugged me down, so we were nose to nose then kissed me gently while my fingers curled into his soft dark hair.
“Won’t Angela be angry?” I asked, fighting very hard not to cry. “She hates me enough already.”
“I don’t care if she’s angry.” He laced our fingers together, still pressed up tight against me with the garland tangled around us. “I’m where I want to be unless you’d rather be alone.”
“Don’t even joke about that.” I cupped his face in both hands, my thumb rubbing over his bottom lip before we shared a deep kiss our tongues sliding against each other. “I missed you so much. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I’d rather be here than anywhere else, Sylar.” He tugged on my hand, pulling me into the middle of the room, so I could see all that he’d done. “Do you like it?”
“I love it, and I love you.”
He gave me a smirk that spread into a wide grin. “I know. Take off your coat, have a seat, and I’ll get you some tea. I need to check on dinner too.”
“You cooked?” In all the time I’ve known Peter, he has managed to cook only two things without filling the kitchen with a noxious black cloud. “It doesn’t smell like popcorn or mac n cheese.”
His hand shot out, then patted me on the chin where he’d punched me so long ago. “Nice, Sylar, laugh it up, and I’ll keep the ham to myself.”
“You cooked a ham?” I knew I was standing there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot.
“Not exactly.” He winked and gave me a wicked smile. “I figure mom won’t miss it. She had plenty of food for tonight, and the cook was more than happy to let me swipe it. She likes you by the way.”
“I assume you’re talking about Rosalie?” I asked when I came into the kitchen behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed the back of his neck. “I like her too. She was very nice to me when I came looking for you.”
“Yeah, when mom told you I wasn’t home, god she pisses me off. I wish she could see who you are now like I do.” Peter’s hands covered mine as he leaned into my embrace. “I wish they’d all see how much you changed.”
“I’m not holding my breath.” He wanted so much for me. He forgave me, and in Peter’s rose tinted reality that meant everyone else should as well. “I don’t look good in blue.”
“Sure you do,” he said, tugging me in front of the Christmas tree. “You like it though, right?”
“I already told you I like it. I thought I was going to be alone for days. This is much better.” I wrapped my arms around him again, and nuzzled his hair. I love how his shampoo and aftershave smelled, even if it was being overpowered by the scent of pine tree and ham.
“I gave my mother an ultimatum.”
“Oh god, Peter, I wish you hadn’t. Things are fine the way they are. I don’t see her, and she doesn’t have me locked up on Level 5. Rocking the boat is going to cause us problems.” I could feel the good mood I was in being swept away by my dread of having anything to do with Angela. She was quite literally the Mother in Law from Hell.
“She can’t pretend we’re not together forever, Sylar. I told her that either you come for Christmas dinner, or I don’t come.”
“Fuck!” I tilt my head back and let out a heavy sigh. “How bad was it?”
“I’ll be here tomorrow night with you too. Fuck her.”
“I’d rather fuck you. It’ll just be the two of us then. Like it was before.” God help me I missed it when all the noise in the world was caused by the two of us. I brushed his hair away from his forehead and kissed him there and on the end of the nose.
Thank god she told him I wasn’t welcome. I didn’t want to sit at that table, haunted by shadows of Nathan’s life while Peter carved the Christmas turkey with Nathan’s sons watching. Being anywhere near the boys terrified me. I was so afraid that I’d forget how to be me, and the bits of Nathan left in me would fight to resurface for them.
“Besides it’s probably a good idea not to have you and my mother near each other with cutlery in the area.”
“Trust me. That isn’t on my list anymore than going to a hardware store with you. Not letting you near a nail gun ever again.” I glanced up at the tacks he’d driven into the walls to hold up the decorations. “I think if I’d been here to watch you do this, I’d have been nervous.”
“Or turned on, I think I liked nailing you.”
Sometimes it bothered me when he turned that last battle into a joke. I understood why he did it, but it still felt strange. He’d been trying to so hard to get Nathan back, and all he got was me.
Peter cupped my cheek and made me look in his eyes. “Stop that. I did not settle for you. I want you. Not because you have Nathan’s memories, because I have those too. Because of the person you’ve become. Now help me get dinner on the table, because after we eat we’re going to open some presents.”
100 Fairytales Table
Author:
thewatchmaker Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 2151
Rating: PG - Slash no porn
Prompts:
Connor MacLeod: I'm not lonely. I've got everything I need right here.
Rachel: Oh no you don't. You refuse to let anyone love you.
Connor MacLeod: Love is for poets. for
scifi_muses020 All Stick Together for
100_fairytales 37/100Notes: Written for the 2010
sylar_peter Advent Calendar. This is set after the end of the series. It was snowing which wasn’t much of a surprise. It was Christmas Eve, and it is New York. I was coming home from the shop where I’d spent the day wrapping gifts of watches and clocks for several customers. It was strange to be back at work there after all that I’d been and done, but it was comforting too.
Wrapping presents for other people, and decorating the shop with a few strands of Christmas lights was as far into the holiday spirit as I was going to get. Christmas was my mother’s favorite holiday, and I wasn’t ready to face it alone. So I pasted on a happy face for people and trudged my way home through the snow, past the blinking lights, the scrambling rude shoppers and a few genuinely nice people along the way.
I was shivering when I dropped into the bakery down the block from my shop. I couldn’t resist it. I’d been fantasizing about the smell of fresh bread all day, and after years trapped in my imaginary hell, I pretty much ate whatever I wanted when I wanted it. It would be a nice treat for my dinner to have fresh sour dough to go along with my canned clam chowder.
“Gabriel, how are you?” The owner came out and gave me a warm hug. I’d known Henry for years, and he’d always been nice to me. He smelled like cinnamon and sugar, and that brought back some more good memories. His hair was a lot grayer, the crow’s feet deeper, than they had been when he’d given me cookies when I was little, and my dad would take me to the shop with him. “We haven’t seen you in forever.”
“I’ve been away, but I’m back now.” And eventually I’ll remember that my name is Gabriel, and not look for someone else. “I reopened the shop.”
I’m still amazed it was there when I came looking for it after Peter and I had defeated Samuel. I always thought the Company had erased my past the way I tried to erase Gabriel, but I was wrong. My old apartment was gone though; the mirror to my prison from Parkman’s tomb had been remodeled and rented out long ago. I had a new place to live now. It was bigger, and it’d take me a long time to fill it with books.
Peter spent a lot of time helping me make it a home. I missed him. He’d been caught up in family events since Thanksgiving when Angela insisted he go home and spend the day with his nephews and Claire. I wasn’t invited, but Peter brought me a picnic of leftovers the next day. I figured the same would happen when he could get away from the Christmas festivities. He’d knock on my door the day after Christmas with a basket full of foil wrapped leftovers and a kiss. I’d be spending Christmas Eve and Christmas alone this year like all the years to come.
“Gabriel?” Henry touched me on the shoulder. “You were a million miles away, son. This is your first Christmas without your mother, isn’t it?”
“It’s the second.” I gave him a watery smile. Hell it was more like the tenth for me, because unlike Peter I counted my years behind the Wall in real time. I had to. I had to count the years that I was good, the years I didn’t kill. Those were the years where I learned how to be human. “I’d like a loaf of sour dough, and some chocolate and banana muffins, please.”
“You’re welcome to stop by our place if you get lonely, Gabe. We’re cooking up a turkey, and there’s more than enough to share,” he said as he put my order into a pair of brown paper bags. “You haven’t seen the family since you were in high school with April.”
“Thank you, but I’ve got a friend coming to spend the holiday with me.” It was a lie, but I didn’t want him to think I was pathetic.
“Well you can always bring your friend by too.” He passed me the sack, but refused to take my money. “Merry Christmas, Gabriel.”
“Merry Christmas, Henry. Say ‘hello’ to your family for me, please.” I waved as I stepped out the door, the warmth of the bread quickly sucked away by the cold air.
By the time I got home, the bread and muffins were cold, but they still smelled good. The building was warm, and it was nice to get into a working elevator instead of trudging up several flights of stairs to get home. It was still an old building. I didn’t want to live in a glass tower in Manhattan. I was more at home in Brooklyn.
I was nearly run over by a trio of kids racing down the hall. They were playing with plastic airplanes, and for a moment I was overwhelmed with one of Nathan’s memories of playing like that with his sons. I blinked it away as they ran past me. They didn’t haunt me often, Nathan’s ghost had faded with time, but I could still taste the bitter guilt on my tongue that they were flavored with.
Peter told me to call him when it happened, but I didn’t want to bother him. So I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and finished walking to the end of the hall where my apartment was waiting. Along the way I could hear people laughing behind their decorated doors and smell their dinners cooking. It was louder than it normally was, and I knew there were a few families celebrating tonight.
I could smell someone cooking a ham when I get to my door. The spices and the delicious aroma made my stomach growl and mouth water. I should have bought myself a little ham. I could eat it for a few days, and have my own little celebration. But all I’ve got is my bread and a few cans of clam chowder and chili to eat. Since no one was watching me, I used my telekinesis to unlock the door and push it open. I didn’t use my powers often, but that one will always be my favorite.
“Oh crap!” Peter looked over at me from on top of my step ladder. He had yards of frilly gold garland wrapped around his neck and a roll of tape caught in his teeth. “You’re early! I’m not done yet.”
There are so many strings of lights glowing and blinking that I have to wonder if he stole them from the tree at Rockefeller Center. A big tree, a real tree, is standing in the corner, decorated from top to bottom with Star Trek ornaments and colored glass balls with a big gold star on top. The whole place smells like ham and pine tree.
“You,” I can’t go on. I’m too choked up and amazed. “I thought you had to spend Christmas with you family?”
“You’re my family. I’m spending it with you.” Peter hopped down from the ladder, leaving a trail of garland behind him as he walked over to me. He took the bags from my arms, and pushed the door closed. Looping the end of the garland over my head, he tugged me down, so we were nose to nose then kissed me gently while my fingers curled into his soft dark hair.
“Won’t Angela be angry?” I asked, fighting very hard not to cry. “She hates me enough already.”
“I don’t care if she’s angry.” He laced our fingers together, still pressed up tight against me with the garland tangled around us. “I’m where I want to be unless you’d rather be alone.”
“Don’t even joke about that.” I cupped his face in both hands, my thumb rubbing over his bottom lip before we shared a deep kiss our tongues sliding against each other. “I missed you so much. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“I’d rather be here than anywhere else, Sylar.” He tugged on my hand, pulling me into the middle of the room, so I could see all that he’d done. “Do you like it?”
“I love it, and I love you.”
He gave me a smirk that spread into a wide grin. “I know. Take off your coat, have a seat, and I’ll get you some tea. I need to check on dinner too.”
“You cooked?” In all the time I’ve known Peter, he has managed to cook only two things without filling the kitchen with a noxious black cloud. “It doesn’t smell like popcorn or mac n cheese.”
His hand shot out, then patted me on the chin where he’d punched me so long ago. “Nice, Sylar, laugh it up, and I’ll keep the ham to myself.”
“You cooked a ham?” I knew I was standing there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot.
“Not exactly.” He winked and gave me a wicked smile. “I figure mom won’t miss it. She had plenty of food for tonight, and the cook was more than happy to let me swipe it. She likes you by the way.”
“I assume you’re talking about Rosalie?” I asked when I came into the kitchen behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed the back of his neck. “I like her too. She was very nice to me when I came looking for you.”
“Yeah, when mom told you I wasn’t home, god she pisses me off. I wish she could see who you are now like I do.” Peter’s hands covered mine as he leaned into my embrace. “I wish they’d all see how much you changed.”
“I’m not holding my breath.” He wanted so much for me. He forgave me, and in Peter’s rose tinted reality that meant everyone else should as well. “I don’t look good in blue.”
“Sure you do,” he said, tugging me in front of the Christmas tree. “You like it though, right?”
“I already told you I like it. I thought I was going to be alone for days. This is much better.” I wrapped my arms around him again, and nuzzled his hair. I love how his shampoo and aftershave smelled, even if it was being overpowered by the scent of pine tree and ham.
“I gave my mother an ultimatum.”
“Oh god, Peter, I wish you hadn’t. Things are fine the way they are. I don’t see her, and she doesn’t have me locked up on Level 5. Rocking the boat is going to cause us problems.” I could feel the good mood I was in being swept away by my dread of having anything to do with Angela. She was quite literally the Mother in Law from Hell.
“She can’t pretend we’re not together forever, Sylar. I told her that either you come for Christmas dinner, or I don’t come.”
“Fuck!” I tilt my head back and let out a heavy sigh. “How bad was it?”
“I’ll be here tomorrow night with you too. Fuck her.”
“I’d rather fuck you. It’ll just be the two of us then. Like it was before.” God help me I missed it when all the noise in the world was caused by the two of us. I brushed his hair away from his forehead and kissed him there and on the end of the nose.
Thank god she told him I wasn’t welcome. I didn’t want to sit at that table, haunted by shadows of Nathan’s life while Peter carved the Christmas turkey with Nathan’s sons watching. Being anywhere near the boys terrified me. I was so afraid that I’d forget how to be me, and the bits of Nathan left in me would fight to resurface for them.
“Besides it’s probably a good idea not to have you and my mother near each other with cutlery in the area.”
“Trust me. That isn’t on my list anymore than going to a hardware store with you. Not letting you near a nail gun ever again.” I glanced up at the tacks he’d driven into the walls to hold up the decorations. “I think if I’d been here to watch you do this, I’d have been nervous.”
“Or turned on, I think I liked nailing you.”
Sometimes it bothered me when he turned that last battle into a joke. I understood why he did it, but it still felt strange. He’d been trying to so hard to get Nathan back, and all he got was me.
Peter cupped my cheek and made me look in his eyes. “Stop that. I did not settle for you. I want you. Not because you have Nathan’s memories, because I have those too. Because of the person you’ve become. Now help me get dinner on the table, because after we eat we’re going to open some presents.”
100 Fairytales Table
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Date: 2010-12-12 08:57 pm (UTC)From:Thank you so much for contributing.
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Date: 2010-12-12 09:12 pm (UTC)From: