(Loose ends, you could call it. Burning away the last few remnants of oneself. There are many who know what he used to be; fewer, though, that he can successfully deal with.)
The temperature's chilly, but not low enough to hit the threshold where a normal person's breath would start to mist. Sylar, when he exhales soundlessly and begins to follow Jordan, sends a thin cloud of vapor wafting upward.
"Benny," he chides, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees. His tone has all the pleasantry of Zane's voice, yet none of the kindness. "You don't remember me?"
At the same time, two fingers curve toward his palm, anticipating.
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(Loose ends, you could call it. Burning away the last few remnants of oneself. There are many who know what he used to be; fewer, though, that he can successfully deal with.)
The temperature's chilly, but not low enough to hit the threshold where a normal person's breath would start to mist. Sylar, when he exhales soundlessly and begins to follow Jordan, sends a thin cloud of vapor wafting upward.
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Benny, who has apparently realized that he left his person behind, turns and starts bounding back.
This time, however, he runs past her.
He can smell the bad man.
He does not like it.
Benny has not made that kind of growling sound before.
Jordan stops, turning to look for him.
"Benny, come o--"
Oh no.
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"Benny," he chides, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees. His tone has all the pleasantry of Zane's voice, yet none of the kindness. "You don't remember me?"
At the same time, two fingers curve toward his palm, anticipating.
Reply
Jordan shrieks that, eyes wide and very scared.
And there's nowhere for her to run.
Her or Benny.
And--perhaps for the first time in his life, Benny ignores her, launching himself toward the bad man.
He has to protect Jordan. He knows that in his bones.
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