ZYLER
Title: ZYLER
Characters: Peter, dreaming about being Nathan, who might be Sylar
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Words: around 400
Summary: Set between The Fifth Stage and The Wall. Peter has a bad dream.
Notes: Everything but the bit about Peter is straight out of a dream I had.
Nathan didn't think they understood. He had told them about Sylar - the man had powers, he was dangerous, he was a killer … he'd tried to take out the President, for God's sake! But they didn't get it. His classmates thought he was talking about a TV show, or a comic book, or maybe just some scary urban legend thing. They loved his stories, but they didn't seem able to accept the idea that powers really existed. And so he went through the motions at the military school, depressed by the realization that his efforts to turn the other cadets against the greatest threat known to humanity was a failure.
Right before the graduation ceremony, it was tradition to give gifts to classmates who had made a difference. Those who had thrilled to his stories the most (and to his disgust, had uniformly cheered Sylar's exploits when he told about them) had a narrow box for him. Nathan opened it carefully. Inside was a shiny brass name tag with black letters that read: ZYLER. It wasn't even spelled right! He drew in a deep breath, holding back his frustration and impotent rage. He let it out slowly, resigning himself to the fact that no one took him seriously. The soft sound of his centering respiration was lost under their abrasive laughter. One of them cheerily took it from him to pin it on his chest over his own name. He had no idea how he was going to explain this to his family, who had come to see him graduate. He looked up to see his father striding towards him across the short clipped lawn, proud smile in place. Nathan straightened, quite literally standing taller as he strove to put his best face on the situation - a face that his father preferred more than that of either of his natural sons.
Z
z
z
z
Peter woke abruptly, shaking with the strange suspicion that his skin was rippling and reforming on his face, shifting from 'Nathan' (or was it Sylar?) to himself. Peter grabbed at his cheeks and nose in fear, but even though the phantom sensations tingled under his fingertips, his features seemed just as normal as ever. Breathing hard in alarm and disquiet, he thought back on the weird dream. As nightmares went, it was better than most he'd had since learning of his brother's fate. He wished there was someone he could talk to about them, but there was no one who would understand.