Of Kirby and Mom
Title: Of Kirby and Mom
Characters: Peter Petrelli, Sylar (Gabriel Gray), Virginia Gray
Rating: PG-13 (mentions of canon character death, matricide)
Setting: Inside the Wall
Summary: Inspired by MBU, using the history therein. Written from Peter's POV. Peter asks about Sylar's mom.
A/N: Unbeta'd. Posted for game_byrd whose muse is feeling under the weather like my sinuses.
“Before when…I tried to ask you about your mom and…well…” Peter couldn’t finish because anything else would be crass and he’d already ruined one opportunity for the killer to open up.
He watched the other man carefully, gauging his response, even if there was no reply. Sylar shifted, instantly uncomfortable and ill at ease, looking anywhere but him. “It’s not…anything you need to hear,” was the short answer.
“Tell me anyway. We’re at the point where we need someone to talk to…you can talk to me, if you want,” Peter spoke ever so gently, keeping his voice soft and just light enough that he hoped he could sneak it by the cantankerous man. One who, he suspected, had a very dark cloud over this section of his past. Perhaps it was a storm that never ended. That would certainly explain things, but he withheld any assumptions until he heard it from Sylar himself.
“You…” Sylar licked his lips, blinking a few times before continuing, “You said when your mom said she found out about your power that she tried to make you into a mass murderer.” He only glanced up once into Peter’s eyes.
Peter nodded, still waiting, standing in place. This might take a while; he was kind of forcing the man to open up, after all.
“My mom…she…” he sighed, “She told me I was damned, that I wasn’t her son and she tried to kill me with a pair of fabric scissors.” Sylar snorted a breath, staring at his shoes as his fingers played with each other. It effectively hid whatever visible reaction he had by hiding his eyes and the majority of his face.
Peter inhaled and stood taller. Hoo boy.
“Not to…go into details, but I…”
He waited for what had to be inevitable. Sylar had no family, of that he was pretty sure, at least none that were trusted enough to be helpful. What if they threw him out? Abandoned him because of his powers? He snapped himself from his thoughts with only a slight difficulty as the sitting man spoke up again.
“She died. I was trying to turn the scissors from me and they…ended up in her.” Sylar’s eyes were closed, his face looking wan and drained. Maybe with a hint of shame hidden.
“Your helpful friends, Hiro and Ando showed up after…” He shook his head to break off his words, starting with something new, “Tried to run me through with that katana over my mom’s dead body, but they teleported out before anything happened, obviously,” Sylar shot him a wry, sarcastically annoyed look. “You saw us later that night.”
Peter frowned and shifted his weight; his head turning as he tried to recall or puzzle out which night in particular Peter had seen Hiro, Ando, and Sylar all at once. Sylar had seen his confusion and answered it, staring Peter down, pinning him in place with his gaze and he got the feeling the story got worse.
“Kirby. It was the night Kirby happened.”
Suddenly everything about that night made sense. Oh God…