Fic: Happy New Year, PG
On the Twelfth Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Twelve Men on a Jury.
On the Eleventh Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Eleven Angel Feathers.
On the Tenth Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Ten Warm Brains.
On the Ninth Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Nine Broken Snow Globes.
On the Eight Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Eight Solemn Prayers.
On the Seventh Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Seven Pieces of Pie.
On the Sixth Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Six Cheerleaders Dancing.
On the Fifth Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - a Cell on Level Five.
On the Fourth Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Four Sirens Blaring.
On the Third Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Three Books.
On the Second Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Two Men with Guns.
On the First Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - a Shiny New Power.
Title: Happy New Year
Character: Sylar
Author: eriksselest
Word count: 754
Rating: PG
Prompts: 12 Days of Sylar for heroes_sylar - On the Twelfth Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Twelve Men on a Jury.
Type: Fanfiction
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or any of its characters.
Sylar entered into the dark shop. It was the first time he had returned since he changed his life-path. The darkness around him held a heaviness that could only be described as the souls of those he had wronged. Everything converged back to this shop of his.
With a click he switched on each of his desk lamps that illuminated the back corners of the shop with an ethereal glow. Sylar peered over the grandfather clocks held in the back of his shop and he smiled broadly that they all were still in perfect working order. He placed a hand on the door of one of them. He didn’t even need his powers to remember how eagerly and precisely he fixed the clock. It had been losing time and chiming at odd hours.
Sylar could hear people cheering and carrying on outside. It was nearing midnight on New Year’s Eve. A time of rebirth, resolutions, and happiness. He; however, stood alone in the peace of his shop with the Roman Numerals of the clock mocking him as if they were each judges of his life. He lost himself in the moment until suddenly; the bells began to chime midnight. One toll for each hour.
One.
The time he had spent in that nightmare world with Peter. He was glad that he had his life back. His real life. He was able to learn compassion. Not all was lost.
Two.
Body and soul split. It would be a crisis for a lesser man having your soul ripped from you, but not for me. The words echoed in his mind. It was an inadvertent catalyst for the position he was in now. He lost that which was most dear to him, but he became better for it.
Three.
Shapeshifting.A curse in and of itself. Damn that Danko, but he was just a means to an end. Sylar’s greed to be anyone but himself - to be anyone but his father - clouded his judgment. It merely re-aligned his madness for power.
Four.
Samson and Luke. One, not what he expected, and the other, just looking for boyhood adventure. Neither were full answers. Just warnings. They only made him long for the warm touch of his real mother.
Five.
The Petrelli’s . . . Elle . . . Pinehearst. How did he even get mixed up in all of that? All he wanted was Claire’s immortality. Was that so much to ask for? And then there was Elle. He wanted to believe so desperately that he could form a family. Not with Elle. Maybe now? Sylar smirked at the thought of that dream.
Six.
Maya and Mexico. His head just hurt thinking about the trials of that time. Maya had an honest heart and that blinded her. Sylar also wished that there were more showers for that point of his life.
Seven.
Re-awakening with Michele. His hunger was never greater. Sylar vowed to himself to never be that bloodthirsty monster again.
Eight.
The battle at Kirby Plaza. Sylar was sure that Peter was the bomb and inciting his explosion was the only way he could see his future and he would die trying. The city would pay for turning its back on him at his greatest time of need.
Nine.
Killing Virginia. Nothing could ever fill that hole Sylar had created with his mother’s blood. Sylar considered it the single greatest mistake in his life. Virginia had been a neurotic mess, but at least she had cared for him with her entire soul.
Ten.
Oh, Mohinder. That entire time was both infuriating and wonderful. Mohinder was hardly aware of his presence in the beginning and that anonymity gave Sylar a chance to connect with the geneticist. Mohinder shared so many traits with his father. At least he smiled more.
Eleven.
His time cooped up in Primatech. Taunting Bennett was all of the satisfaction that Sylar needed. He wondered if Bennet would still allow him to taunt him . . . all in fun, of course.
Twelve.
His life as a watchmaker. As Gabriel Gray. A time when nobody knew that the watchmaker down the street held any darkness deep within him. A time when he was dutiful, proper, and sensitive to every aspect around him. It was before the decision.
Sylar looked morosely along the clock face. The bells only cemented his decision to be better than he has ever been. The judges of his life had made their decision.
“Happy New Year,” Sylar whispered to the darkness.
Cheers!
~Sel^.+
On the Eleventh Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Eleven Angel Feathers.
On the Tenth Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Ten Warm Brains.
On the Ninth Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Nine Broken Snow Globes.
On the Eight Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Eight Solemn Prayers.
On the Seventh Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Seven Pieces of Pie.
On the Sixth Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Six Cheerleaders Dancing.
On the Fifth Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - a Cell on Level Five.
On the Fourth Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Four Sirens Blaring.
On the Third Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Three Books.
On the Second Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Two Men with Guns.
On the First Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - a Shiny New Power.
Title: Happy New Year
Character: Sylar
Author: eriksselest
Word count: 754
Rating: PG
Prompts: 12 Days of Sylar for heroes_sylar - On the Twelfth Day of Sylar, my true love gave to me - Twelve Men on a Jury.
Type: Fanfiction
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or any of its characters.
Sylar entered into the dark shop. It was the first time he had returned since he changed his life-path. The darkness around him held a heaviness that could only be described as the souls of those he had wronged. Everything converged back to this shop of his.
With a click he switched on each of his desk lamps that illuminated the back corners of the shop with an ethereal glow. Sylar peered over the grandfather clocks held in the back of his shop and he smiled broadly that they all were still in perfect working order. He placed a hand on the door of one of them. He didn’t even need his powers to remember how eagerly and precisely he fixed the clock. It had been losing time and chiming at odd hours.
Sylar could hear people cheering and carrying on outside. It was nearing midnight on New Year’s Eve. A time of rebirth, resolutions, and happiness. He; however, stood alone in the peace of his shop with the Roman Numerals of the clock mocking him as if they were each judges of his life. He lost himself in the moment until suddenly; the bells began to chime midnight. One toll for each hour.
One.
The time he had spent in that nightmare world with Peter. He was glad that he had his life back. His real life. He was able to learn compassion. Not all was lost.
Two.
Body and soul split. It would be a crisis for a lesser man having your soul ripped from you, but not for me. The words echoed in his mind. It was an inadvertent catalyst for the position he was in now. He lost that which was most dear to him, but he became better for it.
Three.
Shapeshifting.A curse in and of itself. Damn that Danko, but he was just a means to an end. Sylar’s greed to be anyone but himself - to be anyone but his father - clouded his judgment. It merely re-aligned his madness for power.
Four.
Samson and Luke. One, not what he expected, and the other, just looking for boyhood adventure. Neither were full answers. Just warnings. They only made him long for the warm touch of his real mother.
Five.
The Petrelli’s . . . Elle . . . Pinehearst. How did he even get mixed up in all of that? All he wanted was Claire’s immortality. Was that so much to ask for? And then there was Elle. He wanted to believe so desperately that he could form a family. Not with Elle. Maybe now? Sylar smirked at the thought of that dream.
Six.
Maya and Mexico. His head just hurt thinking about the trials of that time. Maya had an honest heart and that blinded her. Sylar also wished that there were more showers for that point of his life.
Seven.
Re-awakening with Michele. His hunger was never greater. Sylar vowed to himself to never be that bloodthirsty monster again.
Eight.
The battle at Kirby Plaza. Sylar was sure that Peter was the bomb and inciting his explosion was the only way he could see his future and he would die trying. The city would pay for turning its back on him at his greatest time of need.
Nine.
Killing Virginia. Nothing could ever fill that hole Sylar had created with his mother’s blood. Sylar considered it the single greatest mistake in his life. Virginia had been a neurotic mess, but at least she had cared for him with her entire soul.
Ten.
Oh, Mohinder. That entire time was both infuriating and wonderful. Mohinder was hardly aware of his presence in the beginning and that anonymity gave Sylar a chance to connect with the geneticist. Mohinder shared so many traits with his father. At least he smiled more.
Eleven.
His time cooped up in Primatech. Taunting Bennett was all of the satisfaction that Sylar needed. He wondered if Bennet would still allow him to taunt him . . . all in fun, of course.
Twelve.
His life as a watchmaker. As Gabriel Gray. A time when nobody knew that the watchmaker down the street held any darkness deep within him. A time when he was dutiful, proper, and sensitive to every aspect around him. It was before the decision.
Sylar looked morosely along the clock face. The bells only cemented his decision to be better than he has ever been. The judges of his life had made their decision.
“Happy New Year,” Sylar whispered to the darkness.
Cheers!
~Sel^.+