Fic: In Every Way That Matters
Title: In Every Way That Matters
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairing: Sylar/Heidi
Rating: PG for Sylar's overactive imagination
Spoilers/Timeline: "Five Years Gone"
Word Count: 498
Summary: I don’t like playing second fiddle to a dead man, Heidi. I don’t like it one bit.
Notes: When razycrandomgirl mentioned that the current prompt at heroes_contest is "vows," I came up with this little plot bunny. I'm thinking about entering it in the contest, but I haven't decided yet if I will or not.
I’m staring at my reflection in the mirror when you come in.
Dark hair, impeccably neat, with a barely noticeable bit of gray starting to show at the temples. Almost brooding hazel eyes, straight nose, thin lips. It’s a good likeness, a perfect likeness. Nathan himself would be impressed, I think, and my lip curls a little.
“Like what you see, handsome?” you ask playfully, coming up behind me. I turn towards you, away from the spurious reflection.
“Just thinking I ought to do something about those gray hairs,” I say, putting on a rueful smile, and you laugh lightly. I chuckle along with you, even though in truth it’s the last thing I feel like doing.
Being forced to play Nathan, to constantly be hidden behind that inferior mask, is always an aggravation to some extent. But today, the anniversary of the day you became Mrs. Petrelli, it’s proving harder to push away than it normally is.
Today is all about vows I never said, promises I never made, events I can’t remember because I never lived them. Today is about you and him, and I know you’re thinking it when you look at me and love shines through your eyes.
I don’t like playing second fiddle to a dead man, Heidi. I don’t like it one bit.
You reach for my hand and brush your fingertips against the wedding ring on my finger. It isn’t really there, but to you it’s absolutely tangible. And suddenly I want to grab you and shake you, and wrap my fingers around your throat until you cry out my name instead of his, until you admit that he was nothing, nothing but a mere shadow of what you have now.
My right hand twitches, and I envision the fingers curling, leaving imprints on your fragile white skin. Don’t worry; I’ll kiss the bruises away.
But I sink my hand into your hair instead, and I pull you tightly into my arms. Looking over your head I see the mirror, see your husband staring back at me, the accusation in his gaze as clear as if it were spoken word.
Suddenly his face is twisting into an ugly snarl as my anger surges to the forefront, and I seize control. “Mine, now,” I mouth the words, and then I force the illusion away, his face disappearing as if it was never there.
Seconds tick by, and I dig my fingers deeper into your hair, letting them rub against the nape of your neck. My icy calm returns, and with it the illusion. The wedding ring reappears on my finger, and I stare at it for a long moment.
I never made that promise to you. But even though you don’t know, even though you may never know, I know it, and if Nathan is watching us from hell or purgatory or wherever he is now, he knows it too.
You’re mine in every way that matters.
That, I can promise you.
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairing: Sylar/Heidi
Rating: PG for Sylar's overactive imagination
Spoilers/Timeline: "Five Years Gone"
Word Count: 498
Summary: I don’t like playing second fiddle to a dead man, Heidi. I don’t like it one bit.
Notes: When razycrandomgirl mentioned that the current prompt at heroes_contest is "vows," I came up with this little plot bunny. I'm thinking about entering it in the contest, but I haven't decided yet if I will or not.
I’m staring at my reflection in the mirror when you come in.
Dark hair, impeccably neat, with a barely noticeable bit of gray starting to show at the temples. Almost brooding hazel eyes, straight nose, thin lips. It’s a good likeness, a perfect likeness. Nathan himself would be impressed, I think, and my lip curls a little.
“Like what you see, handsome?” you ask playfully, coming up behind me. I turn towards you, away from the spurious reflection.
“Just thinking I ought to do something about those gray hairs,” I say, putting on a rueful smile, and you laugh lightly. I chuckle along with you, even though in truth it’s the last thing I feel like doing.
Being forced to play Nathan, to constantly be hidden behind that inferior mask, is always an aggravation to some extent. But today, the anniversary of the day you became Mrs. Petrelli, it’s proving harder to push away than it normally is.
Today is all about vows I never said, promises I never made, events I can’t remember because I never lived them. Today is about you and him, and I know you’re thinking it when you look at me and love shines through your eyes.
I don’t like playing second fiddle to a dead man, Heidi. I don’t like it one bit.
You reach for my hand and brush your fingertips against the wedding ring on my finger. It isn’t really there, but to you it’s absolutely tangible. And suddenly I want to grab you and shake you, and wrap my fingers around your throat until you cry out my name instead of his, until you admit that he was nothing, nothing but a mere shadow of what you have now.
My right hand twitches, and I envision the fingers curling, leaving imprints on your fragile white skin. Don’t worry; I’ll kiss the bruises away.
But I sink my hand into your hair instead, and I pull you tightly into my arms. Looking over your head I see the mirror, see your husband staring back at me, the accusation in his gaze as clear as if it were spoken word.
Suddenly his face is twisting into an ugly snarl as my anger surges to the forefront, and I seize control. “Mine, now,” I mouth the words, and then I force the illusion away, his face disappearing as if it was never there.
Seconds tick by, and I dig my fingers deeper into your hair, letting them rub against the nape of your neck. My icy calm returns, and with it the illusion. The wedding ring reappears on my finger, and I stare at it for a long moment.
I never made that promise to you. But even though you don’t know, even though you may never know, I know it, and if Nathan is watching us from hell or purgatory or wherever he is now, he knows it too.
You’re mine in every way that matters.
That, I can promise you.