Unfinished Business
Title: Unfinished Business
Rating: PG-13 for some violence and the threat of more to come if he has his say about it.
Characters: Sylar (with Mohinder heavily on his mind), Claire Bennet
Summary: Next part in my series that started with One Missed Call. Now it's Sylar's p.o.v. he's in California looking up an 'old friend' will Mohinder's warning to Noah be in time to save the cheerleader?
A/N: Lots o' love toiluvbsbkevin (the Parkman credit card part was winsauce) and mabetini for both their support and encouragement. Some spoilers if you've not seen all of S2 yet or any of the S3 promos as those are the inspiration, especially this story. In the next part...Mylar reunites...
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Tim Kring/NBC Universal own em, I just like to play with them here and there.
Sylar thought it was strange that Mohinder seemed to not have his phone with him. Even in Montana, when there was absolutely no service for miles and hours at a time, the man insisted on keeping it on and charged. At first, he thought about how disappointed he was to not have the chance to hear the tremor in Mohinder's voice when he announced that he would be back in New York soon. Or...as soon as he could under the circumstances.
Back when he first saw the article print-out as it was foisted in front of his face by the late Alejandro Herrera, Sylar was far too busy trying to keep his puppet on its strings. Maya was his only surefire weapon, his only real way to get Mohinder to help. Even after all that they'd been through, Mohinder still didn't understand his role in all of this. The part he played in Sylar's destiny.
But being back in America came with an interesting set of challenges. Sylar thought it ironic that in his current identity he killed many victims without the authorities ever getting a face to the name, while Gabriel Gray was involved in a single accident and was now wanted for murder in the state of New York. Thankfully, he noticed the Wanted poster at the bus station and acted accordingly.
He made sure to be as polite as he could while paying for his ticket. Smiling when the woman told Mr. Parkman to have a nice trip. Mohinder's roommate really shouldn't leave unopened, newly-ordered credit cards laying around in the mail pile of their apartment.
Sylar arrived in Costa Verde, California and the first thing he did was head to a pay-phone. After he'd finished expressing his gratitude to Suresh for once again providing him with hope and a path to go on, Sylar started off for the address he was looking for. Reading those files on Mohinder's laptop, even he'd been a skeptic on the potential properties of Claire Bennet's blood cocktail. That was until he watched his own wounds heal before his eyes, errant shards of glass leaving his body as it mended. Not to mention of course, the bullet that he put in Maya and Mohinder removed after a simple injection of the substance. The only reason he'd even let the good doctor heal her was to prove that the geneticist wasn't attempting to poison him. Sylar meant what he said about their 'trust issues.'
A relatively short walk from the bus station and Sylar had breached suburbia. It was such a different place...he couldn't fathom what growing up in this type of environment would be like. All pristine-manicured lawns...Gabriel never even had a yard. Growing up in a tiny two-bedroom apartment the closest thing he had was either the local park or the playground at school. The former, Gabriel was not allowed to attend on his own and sadly that was his only option. The latter was a place of constant physical torment. Oh if they could see him now...
It was a good thing Sylar's eidetic memory was restored or he'd not been able to recall the number of the house. Not a good thing when every house on the street was a carbon copy of the one before it. As he neared a white mini-van parked on the street, he heard it. A buzzing, crackling sound of a taser being charged before it was to be fired. Of course it couldn't be easy...but why would Sylar want it to be?
His body swung around and he set his eyes on the agent in a striped polo and khaki shorts as he swiftly lifted the taser in question. What a laughable attempt at both camouflage and an assault. Sylar twitched his fingers and the man was sent across the street into a neighbor's mailbox, head-first. Bullets zipped through the air from two different directions and he halted every single one, sending them back along their respective trajectories. The sound of two different heart-beats coming to a sudden halt eased Sylar until he listened more closely and still heard someone breathing nearby.
When Sylar started off toward the house again, the last agent made his presence known. A shining silver Company-issue gun in his hand. Dressed in a cheap, dark suit he had the weapon poised and ready for his intended target. Sylar watched him as he came forward and scoffed to himself. The agent warned Sylar to stop or he'd shoot but before he could even finish his sentence, Sylar flicked his hand back. The killer's face remained impassive as the agent flew backwards, landing into the windshield of the parked mini-van. Glass cracked and shattered from the impact and the man's body became lodged into what was left of the windshield. For a few moments, the man twitched and made few gurgling noises before going both silent and still. Sylar smirked and stepped through the shards of glass littered on the pavement, crunching them under his tall black boots.
Inside the unassuming suburban home, Claire Bennet was entirely unaware of the chaos happening out on the street. Earbuds resting comfortably as she listened to one of the playlists that West made for her before he left. She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling and daydreaming. Claire sighed as the light-bulb in her lamp started to flicker. After a few flickers though it stopped and was fine again. As she wondered if maybe it got loose somehow, she started at the sight of the bulb shaking then exploding into a small burst of glass that rained down on her bedroom floor. ''
She sat bolt upright on the bed, and tugged the earbuds out of her ears. A car alarm shrilly blaring was the most readily apparent sound. After a few moments...it was still going. It continued chirping as Claire made her way out of her bedroom and into the hallway. After all the things she'd seen and experienced in her life, it was understandable that every step she took was tense and measured. Every breath slow and deep as Claire tried to remain calm. She made her way down the hallway, not noticing when her bedroom door shut itself softly behind her.
Claire walked into the living room and opened the front window's blinds. She could easily spot two of the agent's bodies from that vantage point. When her eyes scanned over to the man stuck through the windshield...limbs twisted and bloodied, face cut to ribbons...she screamed a bloodcurdling sound that was choked off when she watched the blinds snap themselves closed again. All she could then make was a soft, thin gasp as Claire backed away from the window, nearly tripping over the coffee table. She panicked and ran across the room to the front door. The moment her hand grasped the golden doorknob, the locks clicked into place before her eyes and the door would not budge. All of the lights in the living room and kitchen, every bulb overhead burst and shattered over her. A few nicks and gashes on her body from being under the glass as it fell but they quickly healed as she darted into the kitchen.
The phone in the kitchen was a remaining hope for Claire as she all but threw her momentum into reaching the counter where it normally was kept. Only to find in its place a half-liquefied mess stuck to the counter-top. Before Claire could reach a trembling hand out to touch the shimmering, black substance...the hairs on the back of her neck pricked and stood on end. Somehow, before even seeing or hearing the intruder...Claire knew that in that room she was no longer alone. The dark, amused voice merely merely confirmed that fact.
"Hello, Claire..."
Rating: PG-13 for some violence and the threat of more to come if he has his say about it.
Characters: Sylar (with Mohinder heavily on his mind), Claire Bennet
Summary: Next part in my series that started with One Missed Call. Now it's Sylar's p.o.v. he's in California looking up an 'old friend' will Mohinder's warning to Noah be in time to save the cheerleader?
A/N: Lots o' love toiluvbsbkevin (the Parkman credit card part was winsauce) and mabetini for both their support and encouragement. Some spoilers if you've not seen all of S2 yet or any of the S3 promos as those are the inspiration, especially this story. In the next part...Mylar reunites...
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Tim Kring/NBC Universal own em, I just like to play with them here and there.
Sylar thought it was strange that Mohinder seemed to not have his phone with him. Even in Montana, when there was absolutely no service for miles and hours at a time, the man insisted on keeping it on and charged. At first, he thought about how disappointed he was to not have the chance to hear the tremor in Mohinder's voice when he announced that he would be back in New York soon. Or...as soon as he could under the circumstances.
Back when he first saw the article print-out as it was foisted in front of his face by the late Alejandro Herrera, Sylar was far too busy trying to keep his puppet on its strings. Maya was his only surefire weapon, his only real way to get Mohinder to help. Even after all that they'd been through, Mohinder still didn't understand his role in all of this. The part he played in Sylar's destiny.
But being back in America came with an interesting set of challenges. Sylar thought it ironic that in his current identity he killed many victims without the authorities ever getting a face to the name, while Gabriel Gray was involved in a single accident and was now wanted for murder in the state of New York. Thankfully, he noticed the Wanted poster at the bus station and acted accordingly.
He made sure to be as polite as he could while paying for his ticket. Smiling when the woman told Mr. Parkman to have a nice trip. Mohinder's roommate really shouldn't leave unopened, newly-ordered credit cards laying around in the mail pile of their apartment.
Sylar arrived in Costa Verde, California and the first thing he did was head to a pay-phone. After he'd finished expressing his gratitude to Suresh for once again providing him with hope and a path to go on, Sylar started off for the address he was looking for. Reading those files on Mohinder's laptop, even he'd been a skeptic on the potential properties of Claire Bennet's blood cocktail. That was until he watched his own wounds heal before his eyes, errant shards of glass leaving his body as it mended. Not to mention of course, the bullet that he put in Maya and Mohinder removed after a simple injection of the substance. The only reason he'd even let the good doctor heal her was to prove that the geneticist wasn't attempting to poison him. Sylar meant what he said about their 'trust issues.'
A relatively short walk from the bus station and Sylar had breached suburbia. It was such a different place...he couldn't fathom what growing up in this type of environment would be like. All pristine-manicured lawns...Gabriel never even had a yard. Growing up in a tiny two-bedroom apartment the closest thing he had was either the local park or the playground at school. The former, Gabriel was not allowed to attend on his own and sadly that was his only option. The latter was a place of constant physical torment. Oh if they could see him now...
It was a good thing Sylar's eidetic memory was restored or he'd not been able to recall the number of the house. Not a good thing when every house on the street was a carbon copy of the one before it. As he neared a white mini-van parked on the street, he heard it. A buzzing, crackling sound of a taser being charged before it was to be fired. Of course it couldn't be easy...but why would Sylar want it to be?
His body swung around and he set his eyes on the agent in a striped polo and khaki shorts as he swiftly lifted the taser in question. What a laughable attempt at both camouflage and an assault. Sylar twitched his fingers and the man was sent across the street into a neighbor's mailbox, head-first. Bullets zipped through the air from two different directions and he halted every single one, sending them back along their respective trajectories. The sound of two different heart-beats coming to a sudden halt eased Sylar until he listened more closely and still heard someone breathing nearby.
When Sylar started off toward the house again, the last agent made his presence known. A shining silver Company-issue gun in his hand. Dressed in a cheap, dark suit he had the weapon poised and ready for his intended target. Sylar watched him as he came forward and scoffed to himself. The agent warned Sylar to stop or he'd shoot but before he could even finish his sentence, Sylar flicked his hand back. The killer's face remained impassive as the agent flew backwards, landing into the windshield of the parked mini-van. Glass cracked and shattered from the impact and the man's body became lodged into what was left of the windshield. For a few moments, the man twitched and made few gurgling noises before going both silent and still. Sylar smirked and stepped through the shards of glass littered on the pavement, crunching them under his tall black boots.
Inside the unassuming suburban home, Claire Bennet was entirely unaware of the chaos happening out on the street. Earbuds resting comfortably as she listened to one of the playlists that West made for her before he left. She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling and daydreaming. Claire sighed as the light-bulb in her lamp started to flicker. After a few flickers though it stopped and was fine again. As she wondered if maybe it got loose somehow, she started at the sight of the bulb shaking then exploding into a small burst of glass that rained down on her bedroom floor. ''
She sat bolt upright on the bed, and tugged the earbuds out of her ears. A car alarm shrilly blaring was the most readily apparent sound. After a few moments...it was still going. It continued chirping as Claire made her way out of her bedroom and into the hallway. After all the things she'd seen and experienced in her life, it was understandable that every step she took was tense and measured. Every breath slow and deep as Claire tried to remain calm. She made her way down the hallway, not noticing when her bedroom door shut itself softly behind her.
Claire walked into the living room and opened the front window's blinds. She could easily spot two of the agent's bodies from that vantage point. When her eyes scanned over to the man stuck through the windshield...limbs twisted and bloodied, face cut to ribbons...she screamed a bloodcurdling sound that was choked off when she watched the blinds snap themselves closed again. All she could then make was a soft, thin gasp as Claire backed away from the window, nearly tripping over the coffee table. She panicked and ran across the room to the front door. The moment her hand grasped the golden doorknob, the locks clicked into place before her eyes and the door would not budge. All of the lights in the living room and kitchen, every bulb overhead burst and shattered over her. A few nicks and gashes on her body from being under the glass as it fell but they quickly healed as she darted into the kitchen.
The phone in the kitchen was a remaining hope for Claire as she all but threw her momentum into reaching the counter where it normally was kept. Only to find in its place a half-liquefied mess stuck to the counter-top. Before Claire could reach a trembling hand out to touch the shimmering, black substance...the hairs on the back of her neck pricked and stood on end. Somehow, before even seeing or hearing the intruder...Claire knew that in that room she was no longer alone. The dark, amused voice merely merely confirmed that fact.
"Hello, Claire..."