The Corruption of Peter Petrelli - 6/? - Petlar
Character: Sylar and Peter
Genre: Slash
Author: thewatchmaker
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 1500
Rating: R
Notes: Post series Petlar.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Peter had agreed to copy my aptitude. That was a couple of days ago. I’d been thrilled. He’d listened to my pleas, and he’d obviously let it go that I’d killed someone. But that didn’t mean that I was going to rush into it. Sure it’d been my first instinct. I wanted him to be my equal so badly, but there were so many ways that it could go wrong. I’d thought of them before I asked him. I’d been thinking about them when I went to see Noah, and Peter probably had too. I should be ecstatic, but I wasn’t.
Had he and Noah come up with some sort of trap? I scrubbed at my face and looked into my coffee as I stirred much too much milk and sugar into it. I wasn’t in the mood for tea this morning, so I’d stolen some of Peter’s coffee. Peter wouldn’t do that to me. We loved each other. I should have stayed behind and found some way to listen to their conversation. I trust Peter, but I can’t trust Noah even if I did seek out his thoughts on the matter to begin with.
Even with all the milk I managed the burn the tip of my tongue on the coffee, and I wrinkled my nose as it quickly healed from my regen. The water shut off in the shower, and I knew Peter would be coming into the living room shortly dressed for his day of work. He’d be going out there for another day where he could be killed. Whenever I thought about his mortality it frightened me. I’d figured out how to prevent that, and it was time for me to stop pissing around. I had to stop being afraid of the what ifs.
“You’re over thinking it, Sylar,” Peter said as he came into the room, tucking in his paramedic uniform top and adjusting his belt.
“I know I am. I can’t help myself. You know that.” I didn’t bother to deny it. There wasn’t any reason to. Peter knew me better than anyone after all.
“I said ‘yes’, so why don’t I call in sick and we do this?” He leaned against the wall and gave me a lopsided grin. Unlike me wasn’t racked with nerves and freaking out. He’d agreed to condemn himself to Hell, and he was smiling like it was the best thing in the world to do.
None of this had turned out the way I’d seen my future. Hiro said that I’d die alone. But when I was trapped in Parkman’s Fortress of Solitude, Peter had come for me. He’d done it to save everyone but me, but in the end he’d saved me too. I’d changed for him then, or I’d tried to. Before Peter arrived I’d been forced to be good. It wasn’t as if there was anyone there for me to kill. But his faith in our escape and then his faith in me showed me that I could be a better person.
“Sylar?” I jumped when I felt his hand on my shoulder. He’d come across the room while I was deep in thought. “I listened to you. I want to do it.” Then his hand reached up to tug on my hair playfully. “I know about the repercussions. Hell, I thought up most of them on my own without your help. You’re right. I am stronger than I was. I’ll be able to handle it.”
“I’m just afraid,” My voice was so small as I leaned into his touch. His fingers were warm against my skin. “I’m afraid that if you slip that you’ll hate me.”
“I don’t hate you for slipping, do I?” He placed his other hand on the other side of my face and made me look at him. He was serious. “I was mad, but I understand. Do you trust me?”
I just nodded and then kissed the heel of one of his hands. “Call in, Peter. Hell, you should probably take a few days off. We’ll have to get you used to it before you mingle with other people.”
Christ, I sounded like I was preparing for a full moon, and he was a werewolf about to make his first transition. And there I was again comparing what I was to the monsters from the movies I watched growing up at my friend’s house since my mother would never allow it.
He let out a sigh, and we shared a kiss. While our lips touched I could stop thinking about what might go wrong. “I’ll call in, but I want to do something else before we do it.”
“What?” I felt ice run down my spine. The two possibilities that I came up with were that he wanted to talk to his mother, and fuck I didn’t want or need that. Angela could get her fingers back into his soul, and she’d say whatever it took to keep him. She’d do what Noah didn’t. She’d take him away from me.
The other option wasn’t much better. He’d want to go see Nathan’s grave. We’d been there before, and while Peter always felt better for it, I didn’t. It was worse than those mirrors at the carnival when I’d seen my real past. Seeing Nathan’s headstone made me face the petty monster that I’d been. The unforgiving bastard who’d taken Peter’s brother from him to punish him for not wanting me to be his brother, and I didn’t want to be reminded.
“I want to go to church. It’s been a long time.” Peter was looking at me while he dialed in to the hospital to say he couldn’t come in because of a family emergency. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I think a few days is all I need. Tell Hesam he can kick my ass for it when I get back.”
“You want to go to church?” That wasn’t what I expected at all. Suddenly the tightness in my chest released, and I could breathe. I started searching Nathan’s memories, and I couldn’t remember church being that important to Peter. He went when he had to on Christmas, Easter, weddings and funerals.
He wasn’t like me. I went every weekend with my mother, and I went on my own before Chandra walked into my shop. I went one more time after Brian’s blood covered my hands. I’d begged God to kill me. I wanted to be punished for what I’d done. I’d expected lightning to crackle through the vaulted ceilings. Hell, I wanted it. I wanted to suffer for what I’d done, and it wasn’t until I was trapped alone for three years that I found out what suffering was. Parkman had been the hand of God.
“I want to go to Confession,” Peter said, as he laced our fingers together. “I haven’t been for a long time, and I don’t remember the last time I did that. I want a clean slate, Sylar. OK?”
“Yes,” I answered him. It made perfect sense to me. I tugged him with me, so we could sit down on the sofa. Neither one of us let go of the other’s hands. I brushed his hair out of his eyes and touched foreheads with him. “I think it’s a good idea. I used to go before. When I was alone, I spent a lot of time at church, praying for someone to save me. Then there you were.”
“I didn’t save you, Sylar.” He reached up to curl his fingers into my hair our breath mingling. The fear of what we were going to do slipped away with his words. “We saved each other. Let me get out of this and into some regular clothes, and then we can both light a candle or two.”
“I’d like that, Peter.” I got up with him, following Peter into the bedroom to put on something better than what I’d been wearing. I wasn’t a little boy anymore, but it still felt odd not to dress up for church. I settled for a nice shirt and coat over black slacks. Thankfully I’d already shaved, so it didn’t take me long to become acceptable.
“Ready?” Peter asked as he finished tucking in his shirt and pulling on his own jacket.
“Yes,” I said with a smile. “Would you like to go to the church I did in Queens? I can fly us there.” I didn’t want to go to St. Peter’s. Although I doubted that Angela could cross the threshold, I didn’t want to take the chance.
“That’d be great, but let’s take the long way. We’ve got forever, Sylar. No need to rush.” We took our time getting down to the street, stealing a kiss or two along the way. We couldn’t seem to walk for more than 20 feet without our shoulders bumping or our hands touching. Once we got into a cab, I knew that Peter was right. We did have forever.
***
Thank for your patience and your comments.
Genre: Slash
Author: thewatchmaker
Fandom: Heroes
Word count: 1500
Rating: R
Notes: Post series Petlar.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Peter had agreed to copy my aptitude. That was a couple of days ago. I’d been thrilled. He’d listened to my pleas, and he’d obviously let it go that I’d killed someone. But that didn’t mean that I was going to rush into it. Sure it’d been my first instinct. I wanted him to be my equal so badly, but there were so many ways that it could go wrong. I’d thought of them before I asked him. I’d been thinking about them when I went to see Noah, and Peter probably had too. I should be ecstatic, but I wasn’t.
Had he and Noah come up with some sort of trap? I scrubbed at my face and looked into my coffee as I stirred much too much milk and sugar into it. I wasn’t in the mood for tea this morning, so I’d stolen some of Peter’s coffee. Peter wouldn’t do that to me. We loved each other. I should have stayed behind and found some way to listen to their conversation. I trust Peter, but I can’t trust Noah even if I did seek out his thoughts on the matter to begin with.
Even with all the milk I managed the burn the tip of my tongue on the coffee, and I wrinkled my nose as it quickly healed from my regen. The water shut off in the shower, and I knew Peter would be coming into the living room shortly dressed for his day of work. He’d be going out there for another day where he could be killed. Whenever I thought about his mortality it frightened me. I’d figured out how to prevent that, and it was time for me to stop pissing around. I had to stop being afraid of the what ifs.
“You’re over thinking it, Sylar,” Peter said as he came into the room, tucking in his paramedic uniform top and adjusting his belt.
“I know I am. I can’t help myself. You know that.” I didn’t bother to deny it. There wasn’t any reason to. Peter knew me better than anyone after all.
“I said ‘yes’, so why don’t I call in sick and we do this?” He leaned against the wall and gave me a lopsided grin. Unlike me wasn’t racked with nerves and freaking out. He’d agreed to condemn himself to Hell, and he was smiling like it was the best thing in the world to do.
None of this had turned out the way I’d seen my future. Hiro said that I’d die alone. But when I was trapped in Parkman’s Fortress of Solitude, Peter had come for me. He’d done it to save everyone but me, but in the end he’d saved me too. I’d changed for him then, or I’d tried to. Before Peter arrived I’d been forced to be good. It wasn’t as if there was anyone there for me to kill. But his faith in our escape and then his faith in me showed me that I could be a better person.
“Sylar?” I jumped when I felt his hand on my shoulder. He’d come across the room while I was deep in thought. “I listened to you. I want to do it.” Then his hand reached up to tug on my hair playfully. “I know about the repercussions. Hell, I thought up most of them on my own without your help. You’re right. I am stronger than I was. I’ll be able to handle it.”
“I’m just afraid,” My voice was so small as I leaned into his touch. His fingers were warm against my skin. “I’m afraid that if you slip that you’ll hate me.”
“I don’t hate you for slipping, do I?” He placed his other hand on the other side of my face and made me look at him. He was serious. “I was mad, but I understand. Do you trust me?”
I just nodded and then kissed the heel of one of his hands. “Call in, Peter. Hell, you should probably take a few days off. We’ll have to get you used to it before you mingle with other people.”
Christ, I sounded like I was preparing for a full moon, and he was a werewolf about to make his first transition. And there I was again comparing what I was to the monsters from the movies I watched growing up at my friend’s house since my mother would never allow it.
He let out a sigh, and we shared a kiss. While our lips touched I could stop thinking about what might go wrong. “I’ll call in, but I want to do something else before we do it.”
“What?” I felt ice run down my spine. The two possibilities that I came up with were that he wanted to talk to his mother, and fuck I didn’t want or need that. Angela could get her fingers back into his soul, and she’d say whatever it took to keep him. She’d do what Noah didn’t. She’d take him away from me.
The other option wasn’t much better. He’d want to go see Nathan’s grave. We’d been there before, and while Peter always felt better for it, I didn’t. It was worse than those mirrors at the carnival when I’d seen my real past. Seeing Nathan’s headstone made me face the petty monster that I’d been. The unforgiving bastard who’d taken Peter’s brother from him to punish him for not wanting me to be his brother, and I didn’t want to be reminded.
“I want to go to church. It’s been a long time.” Peter was looking at me while he dialed in to the hospital to say he couldn’t come in because of a family emergency. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I think a few days is all I need. Tell Hesam he can kick my ass for it when I get back.”
“You want to go to church?” That wasn’t what I expected at all. Suddenly the tightness in my chest released, and I could breathe. I started searching Nathan’s memories, and I couldn’t remember church being that important to Peter. He went when he had to on Christmas, Easter, weddings and funerals.
He wasn’t like me. I went every weekend with my mother, and I went on my own before Chandra walked into my shop. I went one more time after Brian’s blood covered my hands. I’d begged God to kill me. I wanted to be punished for what I’d done. I’d expected lightning to crackle through the vaulted ceilings. Hell, I wanted it. I wanted to suffer for what I’d done, and it wasn’t until I was trapped alone for three years that I found out what suffering was. Parkman had been the hand of God.
“I want to go to Confession,” Peter said, as he laced our fingers together. “I haven’t been for a long time, and I don’t remember the last time I did that. I want a clean slate, Sylar. OK?”
“Yes,” I answered him. It made perfect sense to me. I tugged him with me, so we could sit down on the sofa. Neither one of us let go of the other’s hands. I brushed his hair out of his eyes and touched foreheads with him. “I think it’s a good idea. I used to go before. When I was alone, I spent a lot of time at church, praying for someone to save me. Then there you were.”
“I didn’t save you, Sylar.” He reached up to curl his fingers into my hair our breath mingling. The fear of what we were going to do slipped away with his words. “We saved each other. Let me get out of this and into some regular clothes, and then we can both light a candle or two.”
“I’d like that, Peter.” I got up with him, following Peter into the bedroom to put on something better than what I’d been wearing. I wasn’t a little boy anymore, but it still felt odd not to dress up for church. I settled for a nice shirt and coat over black slacks. Thankfully I’d already shaved, so it didn’t take me long to become acceptable.
“Ready?” Peter asked as he finished tucking in his shirt and pulling on his own jacket.
“Yes,” I said with a smile. “Would you like to go to the church I did in Queens? I can fly us there.” I didn’t want to go to St. Peter’s. Although I doubted that Angela could cross the threshold, I didn’t want to take the chance.
“That’d be great, but let’s take the long way. We’ve got forever, Sylar. No need to rush.” We took our time getting down to the street, stealing a kiss or two along the way. We couldn’t seem to walk for more than 20 feet without our shoulders bumping or our hands touching. Once we got into a cab, I knew that Peter was right. We did have forever.
***
Thank for your patience and your comments.