Fic: Talk
Fic: Talk
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Peter/Sylar, mentions of Nathan
Summary: Sylar follows Peter after work one day.
Warnings: Unbeta'd.
Notes: Not really. Just sort of something I wanted to write after listening to Coldplay's "Talk" one day. I highly recommend listening to it while reading this.
Sylar really hadn't meant to follow Peter after work. He was thinking of surprising him by meeting him there and walking home with him, but when he saw Peter heading in the opposite direction of where he needed to go, well, Sylar just had to follow.
He finds himself at some old church, a giant one. He waits a few minutes after Peter goes in to follow, safe in the disguise of some passerby he bumped into and copied their DNA.
He sits at a pew somewhat near the front and watches as Peter lights a candle, then kneels, hands clasped and head bowed.
It's not hard to hear Peter, speaking softly upwards to whatever he perceives to be in the sky (Heaven, Sylar supposes, although he gave up his own religious beliefs long ago).
"Hey, big brother," Peter begins, a small smile, even though his voice sounds shaky. "I wish there was a better way for me to talk to you, but...I guess this will have to do."
He looks at his hands for a while before continuing.
"I'm scared, Nathan. I don't know what to do next or how to handle this- thing that your daughter started. I love Claire but this...this is beyond all of us." He swallows and waits a second.
"I don't think I'll be able to save the world, this time."
A hand reaches up to rub across his forehead in exasperation, pushing those ridiculous bangs out of the way as he sighs and continues.
"If you could somehow...tell me what you think I should do...I would really appreciate it. I need help, Nathan, and I don't know anyone else who can help me like you always did."
Peter sniffles, stands up, and offers one last sentiment to the ceiling.
"I'll be back later, Nathan. I love you."
He turns and leaves, and Sylar makes sure to take the short cut home so he'll be there when Peter gets back.
Later that night, he's sitting up on Peter's bed reading when Peter starts trying to crawl into his lap. As politely as he can manage, he shoves the shorter man off him.
"What's wrong?" Peter asks, looking just a little like a wounded puppy.
Sylar puts his book down on the nightstand and shakes his head.
"Maybe we shouldn't be doing...that anymore."
Peter's eyebrows raise.
"You never had a problem before."
Sylar stands up and puts his back to Peter, trying to figure out how to say his next words.
"That was before I overheard you talking to Nathan today."
He can hear a scramble as Peter stands up behind him.
"You followed me?"
He doesn't sound angry, but the hurt is evident in his voice.
"I was going to surprise you at the hospital so we could walk home together, but when I saw you going the opposite direction, I was curious."
He turns around.
"I'm sorry for spying on you, Peter."
"It's okay. I don't get why you're upset, though."
Sylar finds himself mimicking Peter's earlier gesture of running his hand through his hair and makes a mental note to get a hair cut.
"I just don't get how you can still want to fool around with your brother's killer even when you go and talk to him all the time."
Peter shakes his head and stalks forward, always confrontational.
"I thought we were past this."
"Yeah well," Sylar sighs, noticing the sudden lack of space between the two of them. "I just think it's weird. Not normal."
He lets Peter pull him into a hug.
"We've never been normal. I really don't think we should start now, do you?"
Sylar hugs Peter back, despite the lingering awkwardness in the back of his head.
"Normal is overrated anyway," he smiles, and decides to push his hold ups back for Peter's good.
Yeah, that's it. For Peter.
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Peter/Sylar, mentions of Nathan
Summary: Sylar follows Peter after work one day.
Warnings: Unbeta'd.
Notes: Not really. Just sort of something I wanted to write after listening to Coldplay's "Talk" one day. I highly recommend listening to it while reading this.
Sylar really hadn't meant to follow Peter after work. He was thinking of surprising him by meeting him there and walking home with him, but when he saw Peter heading in the opposite direction of where he needed to go, well, Sylar just had to follow.
He finds himself at some old church, a giant one. He waits a few minutes after Peter goes in to follow, safe in the disguise of some passerby he bumped into and copied their DNA.
He sits at a pew somewhat near the front and watches as Peter lights a candle, then kneels, hands clasped and head bowed.
It's not hard to hear Peter, speaking softly upwards to whatever he perceives to be in the sky (Heaven, Sylar supposes, although he gave up his own religious beliefs long ago).
"Hey, big brother," Peter begins, a small smile, even though his voice sounds shaky. "I wish there was a better way for me to talk to you, but...I guess this will have to do."
He looks at his hands for a while before continuing.
"I'm scared, Nathan. I don't know what to do next or how to handle this- thing that your daughter started. I love Claire but this...this is beyond all of us." He swallows and waits a second.
"I don't think I'll be able to save the world, this time."
A hand reaches up to rub across his forehead in exasperation, pushing those ridiculous bangs out of the way as he sighs and continues.
"If you could somehow...tell me what you think I should do...I would really appreciate it. I need help, Nathan, and I don't know anyone else who can help me like you always did."
Peter sniffles, stands up, and offers one last sentiment to the ceiling.
"I'll be back later, Nathan. I love you."
He turns and leaves, and Sylar makes sure to take the short cut home so he'll be there when Peter gets back.
Later that night, he's sitting up on Peter's bed reading when Peter starts trying to crawl into his lap. As politely as he can manage, he shoves the shorter man off him.
"What's wrong?" Peter asks, looking just a little like a wounded puppy.
Sylar puts his book down on the nightstand and shakes his head.
"Maybe we shouldn't be doing...that anymore."
Peter's eyebrows raise.
"You never had a problem before."
Sylar stands up and puts his back to Peter, trying to figure out how to say his next words.
"That was before I overheard you talking to Nathan today."
He can hear a scramble as Peter stands up behind him.
"You followed me?"
He doesn't sound angry, but the hurt is evident in his voice.
"I was going to surprise you at the hospital so we could walk home together, but when I saw you going the opposite direction, I was curious."
He turns around.
"I'm sorry for spying on you, Peter."
"It's okay. I don't get why you're upset, though."
Sylar finds himself mimicking Peter's earlier gesture of running his hand through his hair and makes a mental note to get a hair cut.
"I just don't get how you can still want to fool around with your brother's killer even when you go and talk to him all the time."
Peter shakes his head and stalks forward, always confrontational.
"I thought we were past this."
"Yeah well," Sylar sighs, noticing the sudden lack of space between the two of them. "I just think it's weird. Not normal."
He lets Peter pull him into a hug.
"We've never been normal. I really don't think we should start now, do you?"
Sylar hugs Peter back, despite the lingering awkwardness in the back of his head.
"Normal is overrated anyway," he smiles, and decides to push his hold ups back for Peter's good.
Yeah, that's it. For Peter.