Only the wisest
Continuing the Symphysis series...
Peter woke up slowly, stretching. The four days of downtime that began last evening were now down to three and a half but that was still plenty of time to indulge in a little laziness. His alarm clock showed it was past ten and perhaps time for him to get up. It was warm under his duvet though, while outside a recent spate of winds from the north-east had sent the temperatures plummeting. He was deciding whether a run for clothing and coffee would be bearable when a knock at the door interrupted his musing.
Groaning Peter wrapped the duvet around himself and shuffled across his apartment. With a last check to make sure he wasn't about to flash the mailman he opened his door. Standing calmly outside was the Haitian, René.
"Peter" he began "Is this a bad time?"
"No, no, it's fine" Peter replied. "Come on in. Make yourself at home. I'll just go grab some clothes" he shuffled back to his bedroom as quickly as he could without risking his modesty.
"I apologise for disturbing you" the Haitian called from the next room. "When you requested a copy of Sylar's file I assumed you would need it urgently. Especially now he has attempted to kill your Mother and succeeded in killing Mr Bennet"
In the other room, Peter struggled into his jeans. "How long did you know about Nathan?" he asked.
"Mr Bennet told me a few days after the event" the older man replied. "He felt it necessary that I know the truth, so that I would not accidentally use my power to reveal what had been done"
"And did you agree with what they did?" Peter returned to the living room, tugging on a sweatshirt.
René paused, unused to being asked his opinion. "I did not" he admitted. "Morally it was wrong to hide your brother's death from you and as a plan to control Sylar it was ill prepared and hasty. It seemed likely that he would regain control of his body eventually and seek revenge for what was done to him." he held out a CD case to Peter. "Here is the file. Unfortunately the original was destroyed in the fire, but our back-up copies were safe. All photographs and recordings were also preserved digitally."
"Thank-you" said Peter "I hope it can help"
"May I ask if you have a plan to eliminate Sylar?" asked René.
Peter shook his head. "I'm not going to try to kill him. I'm trying to convince him stop."
"You believe he can be redeemed?"
"Do you?"
"I believe God will forgive all who truly repent" The Haitian replied "But that is a private opinion not shared by many. Most will wish to see him punished for his crimes."
"But you don't?"
"As with forgiveness, vengeance is the Lord's to bestow" stated the dark man piously.
"Do you think I have a chance with Sylar?" Peter asked, the the serene man's opinion suddenly very important to him.
"I do not know" his friend admitted. "But both caging and killing the man have failed. If you wish to try a different tactic then you will have my support."
"Thank-you" said Peter "That means a lot to me"
"I would warn you, however" René continued "If you fail in your attempt, Sylar's rage will most likely select you as it's next target"
Peter smiled wryly. "Better me than someone else"
After René departed Peter booted his laptop and made himself coffee and toast before sitting down to read Primatech's file. It started out innocuously enough, a note of the birth of one Gabriel Gray (m) son of a suspected special (see file GS1253 - Gray, Samson) copies of his birth certificate were scanned as was a neonatal assessment noting he was normal/healthy/male infant.
Nothing more for two and a half years, then a notation that Gray, Samson was Confirmed Special, highly dangerous, Power unknown.
Then nine months later an extract copied from Samson's file, regarding the events at a roadside diner. A note was added to Gabriel's file that the boy had shown 'no unusual reactions during the incident' and his new location for routine observation was noted, with a suggestion for more frequent checks to determine if any contact had been made by his father.
Reading the reports, Peter could not help but feel shame that the only record made of a child watching his mother's murder was the fact that he did not display an ability.
Following that were routine reports of no contact by Samson Gray/no unusual abilities manifest. A footnote to one report showed that Gray, Martin. had left the family home and a new address was noted for observation.
The reopening of Gray and Sons had sent an agent scurrying across the city to investigate if Samson had come out of hiding and reopened his father's shop. However it was soon determined that a 17 year old Gabriel had left school to become the sole proprietor of the business.
Five years from that an agent's flippant comment was a request to 'stop wasting our time watching this nobody'. It seemed his superior agreed because there were no further observations until 2006 when it was noted that Suresh, Chandra - SC0292 had made contact. The company had stepped up to more intense surveillance at that point but had lost interest in Gabriel once Chandra had been unable to produce any results. A transcript of an argument between GG and CS had been included which suggested the end of their relationship.
Gabriel's manifestation of telekinesis had left the company wrong footed and it rushed in a senior agent in the form of Noah Bennet to investigate. As`unflappable as ever, Noah quickly put together a theory involving the disappearance of the known telekinetic Brian Davis and the likelihood of inheriting an ability similar to that of a parent. A note was added to the file by Bob Bishop that he was sending his daughter Elle to assist and that 'it was imperative that the company learn the exact mechanism of ability transfer' Noah was given a green light to do whatever it took.
Peter had to read Elle's first report three times to be sure he hadn't misunderstood.
Elle had entered Gabriel's watch repair shop just in time to stop his suicide. Gabriel had been driven to try to kill himself by the guilt he felt after Davis' murder. Try as he night the nurse simply could not reconcile this event with his own experiences of the serial killer. Ever at their first encounter at Union Wells High Sylar had been every inch the consummate predator. Peter continued to read as Elle befriended and romanced the watchmaker. Only to be appalled as Elle was ordered to do everything she could to incite Gabriel's jealousy and rage by using another special. Gabriel took the bait and Noah recorded the event on film. Peter watched feeling sick. Noah had always joked about being 'comfortable with morally grey' but to learn that he would so casually sacrifice a human life and provoke Gabriel to murder shocked him to the core.
The following pages were full of speculation by company scientists. Theories were tossed out about abilities being located in the brain and whether Gabriel was reading simply structure or whether he needed to see neural activity. Groups debated whether absorbing another's ability would change brain structure or perhaps DNA. No consensus could be reached and Noah was given the order to bring him in.
Bennet was too late though, Now using the name Sylar the watchmaker had already begun his killing spree and left New York far behind. For far too long Noah was one step behind, finally using Isaac's ability to capture the man after his run in with Peter. The nurse was unamused to note that while care had been taken to remove all hint of Claire's involvement, his own name and file reference featured prominently in the report.
Following his capture Gabriel's file became filled with medical detail. Peter was at first glad that his nurses training allowed him to understand the reports, then began to fervently wish that he did not. As the doctors and scientists failed to produce results basic tests became more invasive then devolved into procedures that could not be classed as anything other than torture. Doses of medication were increased, then dangerous cocktails were tried with no effect. Gabriel's health began to fail. His heart began to falter. A number of resuscitation's were noted, then finally the man slipped away despite all efforts to prolong his existence.
But it seemed Sylar had outwitted them once more. He escaped and continued his murderous rampage, more vicious than before, less worried about involving any 'innocent bystanders.' Peter scrolled through crime scene reports until he could take no more. Picture after picture of bodies with empty skulls and black, accusing eyes.
Dragging his attention away from the screen the nurse became aware of his own discomfort. His back and neck cricked from hunching over, his eyes tired and blurred, his bare feet freezing cold. He hadn't even managed to eat his breakfast, toast and coffee both cold and untouched on the table.
Rising to his feet Peter limped to his kitchen to make himself fresh coffee. Leaning against the wall he slid down onto his haunches, dropping his head into his hands. 'I can't do this' he thought to himself. 'There's too much damage, too much destruction, I don't know how to fix it' Peter did not know how long he stayed there, lost and despairing. The water had long boiled before he was roused by someone hammering on his front door.
Opening the door he found an scowling man in overalls. "You Petrelli?" he grunted. Peter nodded. The man shoved his clipboard in his face. "Sign here" he instructed, before moving back to the stairs.
"Wait" Peter called out, following him "What am I signing for?" he leaned over the banister.
From the bottom of the stairwell came the sound of grunts and muffled cursing. Two further men were maneuvering a large object up the stairs. From the sound of things it was quite heavy. When they got to Peter's door they paused. "Where do you want it?" They asked.
"I've no idea what you're delivering" Peter admitted.
One of the men cursed. "Don't tell me it's the wrong address"
The third man returned and pulled a stack of paperwork from his pocket. "Nah, we're right" he confirmed. He handed an envelope to Peter. "Here you go." Turning back to his colleagues "What are yous two waiting for - an invitation?"
As`the men dumped what appeared to be a large chair in Peter's living room the nurse opened the envelope. Inside was a receipt for a sofa and two recliners and a note. It was from Sylar.
'Peter' he read 'Your brother's ghost and I agreed that you need these. I myself am only doing it to have somewhere comfortable to sit'
The empath smiled to himself. Whatever remnant of Nathan remained entwined in Sylar's psyche it was enough to make the killer think about him. Even enough to make him pause before taking his life. For now at least, Peter had a window of opportunity to connect with the watchmaker and if Sylar could relearn how to care for someone, perhaps that would be enough to keep the hunger at bay.
* * *
That evening found Sylar relaxing in one of the recliners he had purchased.
"It vibrates too." he boasted to Peter while adjusting the controls. A humming noise started as the chair was activated. "Weird, it makes my toes tingle"
Peter smiled. It was strange to see the killer so enthused by something as mundane as a chair. "You really like your creature comforts"
"I don't see any reason not to indulge" replied Sylar. "Life is short... for most people anyway."
Peter stiffened slightly at the reminder of exactly who he was entertaining. "I read your file" he stated.
Sylar looked up. "And now you'd like to talk about it I suppose?" he guessed. "Well I'm already reclining, so if you just put on a fake German accent you can try to psychoanalyse me."
"Do you think that would work?"
"No" replied Sylar flatly before his usual smirk returned. "Frankly Freud is bullshit. Although come to think of it I killed your father and your Mom keeps hitting on me. Do you think it's possible to have an Oedipal complex-by proxy? It beats penis envy I suppose"
"Can you be serious for one minute" protested Peter.
"I am being serious. I may have just had a breakthrough here... and you should say 'fur vun minute' remember the accent"
"Please, Gabriel" said the nurse "Will you just tell me one thing truthfully"
"I don't know" Sylar replied. "Will you ask me in a comic German voice?"
"No"
The taller man sighed. "You're no fun" he complained. He paused to glance at Peter's face, studying him. "OK. You can ask. But don't blame me if the answer ruins your evening."
"There's one thing I don't understand" the empath began, ignoring the way Sylar's eyebrows rose mockingly "After Brian Davis you were wrecked with guilt, you couldn't bear to live with what you had done. Then just a few weeks later you are carving up people with as much remorse as most people feel over carving a turkey. What changed?"
"I changed" the killer replied, eyes dark. His jovial mood vanished.
"But how?" the nurse pressed.
Sylar looked back at him thoughtfully. Peter did not know what he was looking for but apparently he found it. "Alright" he nodded. "I'll explain it to you." he pulled himself back up into a sitting position.
"Part of it is obvious" he began "The second kill does not have as much impact as the first, and once you've killed a dozen it all starts to become routine. They are all so pathetic. They beg and plead and wail. They will offer you anything not to kill them, money, sex. One sick bastard even offered me his daughter if I would let him live. It isn't worth crying over them"
"And the other part?" prompted Peter faintly, a little nervous of what he might hear.
"I have a great deal of control over the autonomic responses of my body" he held up a hand to stop Peter from interrupting "Emotion is mostly a matter of chemistry. Oxytocin makes you feel love. Nor-epinephrine makes you scared. Serotonin levels can make you feel sad or angry. If you take control of the chemicals you take control of the emotion. I choose not to feel bad."
"You're messing with your brain chemistry?" asked Peter horrified.
"I'm not messing with it" Sylar refuted "I have a great deal of understanding of how the brain works. I know what I'm doing"
"Maybe you did when you started" Peter argued "But once you were self-medicating with psycho-actives I doubt you had the control you thought you did. My God I bet your dopamine levels are through the roof aren't they?"
"I've raised them a little" admitted Sylar defensively "They aren't at dangerous levels. I've had them much higher in the past. During my first vacation in a company cell for example"
"And I suppose you are in perfect control" prompted Peter.
"Of course I am" the watchmaker snapped, rising to his feet.
Peter shook his head sadly. "Dopamine makes you want" he declared "Serotonin makes you aggressive. I spent a rotation in a psychiatric ward. I know what high levels of both do to people"
"I am not insane" Sylar declared, stalking closer to the nurse to loom over him.
"Then stop" begged Peter "Let the levels go back to normal. Do it to prove me wrong if you like, but I think you'll have a much better chance of controlling the hunger if you do"
The killer glared down at the smaller man. "I suppose I can stop for a few days" he agreed grudgingly. "If only to prove you wrong, But I'll expect to be compensated for my trouble"
"Three months" replied the nurse. "That's the absolute minimum" he added when Sylar looked set to argue "Just consider yourself lucky that I'm not asking for a sample of your cerebrospinal fluid to use as a baseline. Actually" he paused thoughtfully "I know someone who would do that, no questions asked"
"If you think" began Sylar, hackles raised "that I am letting Mohinder give me another spinal tap you are dead, dead wrong"
"Mohinder gave you a spinal tap?" asked the empath, astonished.
"Without anaesthetic" growled the serial killer "Then he tried to shoot me in the face. We were just discussing his poor manners when you barged in on us and made me drop him"
"If Mohinder's already taken a sample I can ring him to get the results" mused Peter.
Sylar rolled his eyes. "Obviously" he agreed "You can give him my regards"
"So will you do it?" the shorter man asked hopefully.
"What do I get in return?"
"What would you like?"
"Right now the idea of you in a slave-boy outfit, saying nothing but 'as you wish, Master' spring to mind" offered the killer, annoyed by the criticism he was receiving.
Peter smiled. "The slave-boy outfit is at the dry-cleaners" he deadpanned. "How about I take you out to dinner somewhere swanky"
"It's a start I suppose" The watchmaker reached out hesitantly, running his fingers from Peter's shoulder down, along his arm before dropping away. "My life was so much easier when I didn't give a damn what you thought of me" he complained.
Peter took hold of his hand entwining his fingers through Sylar's. "Easier but lonelier" he replied. "Maybe being together will be better for both of us"
"That remains to be seen" Sylar noted. "So far it seems like a lot of hard work"
"How are you doing?" asked Peter "With the Hunger I mean"
"So far, so good" the killer replied without enthusiasm. "I'm not really felt much so far. It hasn't been that long and the only person with an ability I've encountered is you"
"And you like me too much to kill me"
Sylar shook his head in denial. "I don't want your power, Peter" he stated, letting go of his hand.
"Hey, I have a good power" the empath protested "Empathy is"
"Messy" Sylar interrupted "Clumsy, uncontrolled, imprecise, unpredictable, unreliable, prone to overload, a danger to yourself and others.."
"It's not that bad" protested Peter.
"Gifts you with a power without any knowledge of how to control it, reliant on luck to ensure that you don't accidentally kill everyone in the vicinity.."
"You're annoying me now"
"And that was before you were broken" the watchmaker summarised.
"So I'm broken now?"
"Technically, yes" the killer shrugged "Your power doesn't work as it should do. You're faulty"
"Alright you've made your point. Are you trying to pick a fight with me?"
Sylar shrugged "Maybe" he said hesitantly "Fighting is what we've always done. Fighting is normal for us. This touchy-feely stuff isn't"
"Do you want to go back to the way things were?" Peter asked cautiously.
"I don't like this uncertainty" the watchmaker admitted. "I'm not sure what you want from me"
"I want to help you change your life" said Peter, gently taking hold of the taller man's biceps. "I want to support you when you deal with the hunger. I want you to stop killing"
"And if I do all that, what then?"
"Then I want to have a relationship with you"
"You would really want to be with me?" asked Sylar disbelieving.
"Yes" stated Peter emphatically.
"You're telling the truth" stated Sylar with a hint of amazement.
"I am"
"But only if I stop killing"
The empath nodded. "That's my one condition. I can't be with you if you are killing people. I couldn't ignore that"
"And you don't want me to pretend to be Nathan for you?"
"No, I don't"
"I won't then" the watchmaker decided "I think I've got enough to do without complicating things pretending to be someone I'm not"
"Okay" agreed Peter "I can start dealing with that tomorrow"
The nurse met Sylar's eyes. They seemed infinitely dark and deep, like an ocean at night, tempting for swimmers to take the plunge but far, far too easy to drown in. Am I pulling him to the surface or will he pull me under Peter wondered, before reaching up to place his hand behind the taller man's neck. Here goes everything he thought and rose up on his toes for a goodnight kiss.
End
A/N The title Only the wisest is part of a quote from Confucius: Only the wisest and stupidest of men never change.
High levels of Dopamine and Serotonin are typically present in those diagnosed with Psychosis and Schizophrenia.
They are also used in several bodily functions Serotonin release causes the metabolism to 'slow down', Dopamine is used in processing pain and controlling heart rate. As seen in series one Sylar fakes his own death well enough to fool company doctors. This speaks of superb control over supposedly uncontrollable bodily functions. Direct manipulation of neurotransmitters could explain how he is able to do this and explain the personality differences shown between Gabriel and Sylar. Well it's a theory anyway.
Peter woke up slowly, stretching. The four days of downtime that began last evening were now down to three and a half but that was still plenty of time to indulge in a little laziness. His alarm clock showed it was past ten and perhaps time for him to get up. It was warm under his duvet though, while outside a recent spate of winds from the north-east had sent the temperatures plummeting. He was deciding whether a run for clothing and coffee would be bearable when a knock at the door interrupted his musing.
Groaning Peter wrapped the duvet around himself and shuffled across his apartment. With a last check to make sure he wasn't about to flash the mailman he opened his door. Standing calmly outside was the Haitian, René.
"Peter" he began "Is this a bad time?"
"No, no, it's fine" Peter replied. "Come on in. Make yourself at home. I'll just go grab some clothes" he shuffled back to his bedroom as quickly as he could without risking his modesty.
"I apologise for disturbing you" the Haitian called from the next room. "When you requested a copy of Sylar's file I assumed you would need it urgently. Especially now he has attempted to kill your Mother and succeeded in killing Mr Bennet"
In the other room, Peter struggled into his jeans. "How long did you know about Nathan?" he asked.
"Mr Bennet told me a few days after the event" the older man replied. "He felt it necessary that I know the truth, so that I would not accidentally use my power to reveal what had been done"
"And did you agree with what they did?" Peter returned to the living room, tugging on a sweatshirt.
René paused, unused to being asked his opinion. "I did not" he admitted. "Morally it was wrong to hide your brother's death from you and as a plan to control Sylar it was ill prepared and hasty. It seemed likely that he would regain control of his body eventually and seek revenge for what was done to him." he held out a CD case to Peter. "Here is the file. Unfortunately the original was destroyed in the fire, but our back-up copies were safe. All photographs and recordings were also preserved digitally."
"Thank-you" said Peter "I hope it can help"
"May I ask if you have a plan to eliminate Sylar?" asked René.
Peter shook his head. "I'm not going to try to kill him. I'm trying to convince him stop."
"You believe he can be redeemed?"
"Do you?"
"I believe God will forgive all who truly repent" The Haitian replied "But that is a private opinion not shared by many. Most will wish to see him punished for his crimes."
"But you don't?"
"As with forgiveness, vengeance is the Lord's to bestow" stated the dark man piously.
"Do you think I have a chance with Sylar?" Peter asked, the the serene man's opinion suddenly very important to him.
"I do not know" his friend admitted. "But both caging and killing the man have failed. If you wish to try a different tactic then you will have my support."
"Thank-you" said Peter "That means a lot to me"
"I would warn you, however" René continued "If you fail in your attempt, Sylar's rage will most likely select you as it's next target"
Peter smiled wryly. "Better me than someone else"
After René departed Peter booted his laptop and made himself coffee and toast before sitting down to read Primatech's file. It started out innocuously enough, a note of the birth of one Gabriel Gray (m) son of a suspected special (see file GS1253 - Gray, Samson) copies of his birth certificate were scanned as was a neonatal assessment noting he was normal/healthy/male infant.
Nothing more for two and a half years, then a notation that Gray, Samson was Confirmed Special, highly dangerous, Power unknown.
Then nine months later an extract copied from Samson's file, regarding the events at a roadside diner. A note was added to Gabriel's file that the boy had shown 'no unusual reactions during the incident' and his new location for routine observation was noted, with a suggestion for more frequent checks to determine if any contact had been made by his father.
Reading the reports, Peter could not help but feel shame that the only record made of a child watching his mother's murder was the fact that he did not display an ability.
Following that were routine reports of no contact by Samson Gray/no unusual abilities manifest. A footnote to one report showed that Gray, Martin. had left the family home and a new address was noted for observation.
The reopening of Gray and Sons had sent an agent scurrying across the city to investigate if Samson had come out of hiding and reopened his father's shop. However it was soon determined that a 17 year old Gabriel had left school to become the sole proprietor of the business.
Five years from that an agent's flippant comment was a request to 'stop wasting our time watching this nobody'. It seemed his superior agreed because there were no further observations until 2006 when it was noted that Suresh, Chandra - SC0292 had made contact. The company had stepped up to more intense surveillance at that point but had lost interest in Gabriel once Chandra had been unable to produce any results. A transcript of an argument between GG and CS had been included which suggested the end of their relationship.
Gabriel's manifestation of telekinesis had left the company wrong footed and it rushed in a senior agent in the form of Noah Bennet to investigate. As`unflappable as ever, Noah quickly put together a theory involving the disappearance of the known telekinetic Brian Davis and the likelihood of inheriting an ability similar to that of a parent. A note was added to the file by Bob Bishop that he was sending his daughter Elle to assist and that 'it was imperative that the company learn the exact mechanism of ability transfer' Noah was given a green light to do whatever it took.
Peter had to read Elle's first report three times to be sure he hadn't misunderstood.
Elle had entered Gabriel's watch repair shop just in time to stop his suicide. Gabriel had been driven to try to kill himself by the guilt he felt after Davis' murder. Try as he night the nurse simply could not reconcile this event with his own experiences of the serial killer. Ever at their first encounter at Union Wells High Sylar had been every inch the consummate predator. Peter continued to read as Elle befriended and romanced the watchmaker. Only to be appalled as Elle was ordered to do everything she could to incite Gabriel's jealousy and rage by using another special. Gabriel took the bait and Noah recorded the event on film. Peter watched feeling sick. Noah had always joked about being 'comfortable with morally grey' but to learn that he would so casually sacrifice a human life and provoke Gabriel to murder shocked him to the core.
The following pages were full of speculation by company scientists. Theories were tossed out about abilities being located in the brain and whether Gabriel was reading simply structure or whether he needed to see neural activity. Groups debated whether absorbing another's ability would change brain structure or perhaps DNA. No consensus could be reached and Noah was given the order to bring him in.
Bennet was too late though, Now using the name Sylar the watchmaker had already begun his killing spree and left New York far behind. For far too long Noah was one step behind, finally using Isaac's ability to capture the man after his run in with Peter. The nurse was unamused to note that while care had been taken to remove all hint of Claire's involvement, his own name and file reference featured prominently in the report.
Following his capture Gabriel's file became filled with medical detail. Peter was at first glad that his nurses training allowed him to understand the reports, then began to fervently wish that he did not. As the doctors and scientists failed to produce results basic tests became more invasive then devolved into procedures that could not be classed as anything other than torture. Doses of medication were increased, then dangerous cocktails were tried with no effect. Gabriel's health began to fail. His heart began to falter. A number of resuscitation's were noted, then finally the man slipped away despite all efforts to prolong his existence.
But it seemed Sylar had outwitted them once more. He escaped and continued his murderous rampage, more vicious than before, less worried about involving any 'innocent bystanders.' Peter scrolled through crime scene reports until he could take no more. Picture after picture of bodies with empty skulls and black, accusing eyes.
Dragging his attention away from the screen the nurse became aware of his own discomfort. His back and neck cricked from hunching over, his eyes tired and blurred, his bare feet freezing cold. He hadn't even managed to eat his breakfast, toast and coffee both cold and untouched on the table.
Rising to his feet Peter limped to his kitchen to make himself fresh coffee. Leaning against the wall he slid down onto his haunches, dropping his head into his hands. 'I can't do this' he thought to himself. 'There's too much damage, too much destruction, I don't know how to fix it' Peter did not know how long he stayed there, lost and despairing. The water had long boiled before he was roused by someone hammering on his front door.
Opening the door he found an scowling man in overalls. "You Petrelli?" he grunted. Peter nodded. The man shoved his clipboard in his face. "Sign here" he instructed, before moving back to the stairs.
"Wait" Peter called out, following him "What am I signing for?" he leaned over the banister.
From the bottom of the stairwell came the sound of grunts and muffled cursing. Two further men were maneuvering a large object up the stairs. From the sound of things it was quite heavy. When they got to Peter's door they paused. "Where do you want it?" They asked.
"I've no idea what you're delivering" Peter admitted.
One of the men cursed. "Don't tell me it's the wrong address"
The third man returned and pulled a stack of paperwork from his pocket. "Nah, we're right" he confirmed. He handed an envelope to Peter. "Here you go." Turning back to his colleagues "What are yous two waiting for - an invitation?"
As`the men dumped what appeared to be a large chair in Peter's living room the nurse opened the envelope. Inside was a receipt for a sofa and two recliners and a note. It was from Sylar.
'Peter' he read 'Your brother's ghost and I agreed that you need these. I myself am only doing it to have somewhere comfortable to sit'
The empath smiled to himself. Whatever remnant of Nathan remained entwined in Sylar's psyche it was enough to make the killer think about him. Even enough to make him pause before taking his life. For now at least, Peter had a window of opportunity to connect with the watchmaker and if Sylar could relearn how to care for someone, perhaps that would be enough to keep the hunger at bay.
* * *
That evening found Sylar relaxing in one of the recliners he had purchased.
"It vibrates too." he boasted to Peter while adjusting the controls. A humming noise started as the chair was activated. "Weird, it makes my toes tingle"
Peter smiled. It was strange to see the killer so enthused by something as mundane as a chair. "You really like your creature comforts"
"I don't see any reason not to indulge" replied Sylar. "Life is short... for most people anyway."
Peter stiffened slightly at the reminder of exactly who he was entertaining. "I read your file" he stated.
Sylar looked up. "And now you'd like to talk about it I suppose?" he guessed. "Well I'm already reclining, so if you just put on a fake German accent you can try to psychoanalyse me."
"Do you think that would work?"
"No" replied Sylar flatly before his usual smirk returned. "Frankly Freud is bullshit. Although come to think of it I killed your father and your Mom keeps hitting on me. Do you think it's possible to have an Oedipal complex-by proxy? It beats penis envy I suppose"
"Can you be serious for one minute" protested Peter.
"I am being serious. I may have just had a breakthrough here... and you should say 'fur vun minute' remember the accent"
"Please, Gabriel" said the nurse "Will you just tell me one thing truthfully"
"I don't know" Sylar replied. "Will you ask me in a comic German voice?"
"No"
The taller man sighed. "You're no fun" he complained. He paused to glance at Peter's face, studying him. "OK. You can ask. But don't blame me if the answer ruins your evening."
"There's one thing I don't understand" the empath began, ignoring the way Sylar's eyebrows rose mockingly "After Brian Davis you were wrecked with guilt, you couldn't bear to live with what you had done. Then just a few weeks later you are carving up people with as much remorse as most people feel over carving a turkey. What changed?"
"I changed" the killer replied, eyes dark. His jovial mood vanished.
"But how?" the nurse pressed.
Sylar looked back at him thoughtfully. Peter did not know what he was looking for but apparently he found it. "Alright" he nodded. "I'll explain it to you." he pulled himself back up into a sitting position.
"Part of it is obvious" he began "The second kill does not have as much impact as the first, and once you've killed a dozen it all starts to become routine. They are all so pathetic. They beg and plead and wail. They will offer you anything not to kill them, money, sex. One sick bastard even offered me his daughter if I would let him live. It isn't worth crying over them"
"And the other part?" prompted Peter faintly, a little nervous of what he might hear.
"I have a great deal of control over the autonomic responses of my body" he held up a hand to stop Peter from interrupting "Emotion is mostly a matter of chemistry. Oxytocin makes you feel love. Nor-epinephrine makes you scared. Serotonin levels can make you feel sad or angry. If you take control of the chemicals you take control of the emotion. I choose not to feel bad."
"You're messing with your brain chemistry?" asked Peter horrified.
"I'm not messing with it" Sylar refuted "I have a great deal of understanding of how the brain works. I know what I'm doing"
"Maybe you did when you started" Peter argued "But once you were self-medicating with psycho-actives I doubt you had the control you thought you did. My God I bet your dopamine levels are through the roof aren't they?"
"I've raised them a little" admitted Sylar defensively "They aren't at dangerous levels. I've had them much higher in the past. During my first vacation in a company cell for example"
"And I suppose you are in perfect control" prompted Peter.
"Of course I am" the watchmaker snapped, rising to his feet.
Peter shook his head sadly. "Dopamine makes you want" he declared "Serotonin makes you aggressive. I spent a rotation in a psychiatric ward. I know what high levels of both do to people"
"I am not insane" Sylar declared, stalking closer to the nurse to loom over him.
"Then stop" begged Peter "Let the levels go back to normal. Do it to prove me wrong if you like, but I think you'll have a much better chance of controlling the hunger if you do"
The killer glared down at the smaller man. "I suppose I can stop for a few days" he agreed grudgingly. "If only to prove you wrong, But I'll expect to be compensated for my trouble"
"Three months" replied the nurse. "That's the absolute minimum" he added when Sylar looked set to argue "Just consider yourself lucky that I'm not asking for a sample of your cerebrospinal fluid to use as a baseline. Actually" he paused thoughtfully "I know someone who would do that, no questions asked"
"If you think" began Sylar, hackles raised "that I am letting Mohinder give me another spinal tap you are dead, dead wrong"
"Mohinder gave you a spinal tap?" asked the empath, astonished.
"Without anaesthetic" growled the serial killer "Then he tried to shoot me in the face. We were just discussing his poor manners when you barged in on us and made me drop him"
"If Mohinder's already taken a sample I can ring him to get the results" mused Peter.
Sylar rolled his eyes. "Obviously" he agreed "You can give him my regards"
"So will you do it?" the shorter man asked hopefully.
"What do I get in return?"
"What would you like?"
"Right now the idea of you in a slave-boy outfit, saying nothing but 'as you wish, Master' spring to mind" offered the killer, annoyed by the criticism he was receiving.
Peter smiled. "The slave-boy outfit is at the dry-cleaners" he deadpanned. "How about I take you out to dinner somewhere swanky"
"It's a start I suppose" The watchmaker reached out hesitantly, running his fingers from Peter's shoulder down, along his arm before dropping away. "My life was so much easier when I didn't give a damn what you thought of me" he complained.
Peter took hold of his hand entwining his fingers through Sylar's. "Easier but lonelier" he replied. "Maybe being together will be better for both of us"
"That remains to be seen" Sylar noted. "So far it seems like a lot of hard work"
"How are you doing?" asked Peter "With the Hunger I mean"
"So far, so good" the killer replied without enthusiasm. "I'm not really felt much so far. It hasn't been that long and the only person with an ability I've encountered is you"
"And you like me too much to kill me"
Sylar shook his head in denial. "I don't want your power, Peter" he stated, letting go of his hand.
"Hey, I have a good power" the empath protested "Empathy is"
"Messy" Sylar interrupted "Clumsy, uncontrolled, imprecise, unpredictable, unreliable, prone to overload, a danger to yourself and others.."
"It's not that bad" protested Peter.
"Gifts you with a power without any knowledge of how to control it, reliant on luck to ensure that you don't accidentally kill everyone in the vicinity.."
"You're annoying me now"
"And that was before you were broken" the watchmaker summarised.
"So I'm broken now?"
"Technically, yes" the killer shrugged "Your power doesn't work as it should do. You're faulty"
"Alright you've made your point. Are you trying to pick a fight with me?"
Sylar shrugged "Maybe" he said hesitantly "Fighting is what we've always done. Fighting is normal for us. This touchy-feely stuff isn't"
"Do you want to go back to the way things were?" Peter asked cautiously.
"I don't like this uncertainty" the watchmaker admitted. "I'm not sure what you want from me"
"I want to help you change your life" said Peter, gently taking hold of the taller man's biceps. "I want to support you when you deal with the hunger. I want you to stop killing"
"And if I do all that, what then?"
"Then I want to have a relationship with you"
"You would really want to be with me?" asked Sylar disbelieving.
"Yes" stated Peter emphatically.
"You're telling the truth" stated Sylar with a hint of amazement.
"I am"
"But only if I stop killing"
The empath nodded. "That's my one condition. I can't be with you if you are killing people. I couldn't ignore that"
"And you don't want me to pretend to be Nathan for you?"
"No, I don't"
"I won't then" the watchmaker decided "I think I've got enough to do without complicating things pretending to be someone I'm not"
"Okay" agreed Peter "I can start dealing with that tomorrow"
The nurse met Sylar's eyes. They seemed infinitely dark and deep, like an ocean at night, tempting for swimmers to take the plunge but far, far too easy to drown in. Am I pulling him to the surface or will he pull me under Peter wondered, before reaching up to place his hand behind the taller man's neck. Here goes everything he thought and rose up on his toes for a goodnight kiss.
End
A/N The title Only the wisest is part of a quote from Confucius: Only the wisest and stupidest of men never change.
High levels of Dopamine and Serotonin are typically present in those diagnosed with Psychosis and Schizophrenia.
They are also used in several bodily functions Serotonin release causes the metabolism to 'slow down', Dopamine is used in processing pain and controlling heart rate. As seen in series one Sylar fakes his own death well enough to fool company doctors. This speaks of superb control over supposedly uncontrollable bodily functions. Direct manipulation of neurotransmitters could explain how he is able to do this and explain the personality differences shown between Gabriel and Sylar. Well it's a theory anyway.