Sins of the Father, Chapter 7
Title: Sins of the Father
Rating: PG-13 [Violence, yet another character death]
Pairing: Sylar/Mohinder
Characters: Sylar, Mohinder, later on Maury,Nathan, Matt, Niki, Molly and my own version of Sylar's dad.
Spoilers: Not really anything special, season 1 of course but also the Nightmare Man stuff from S2 is there but altered as another character doing it.
Word Count: 1,681
Summary: Sylar's back in New York and he's out to visit an old friend who can help him find answers as to why he's powerless. The reunion is cut short as Sylar learns more about the mysterious Company and the truth about his father's life. There is a nightmare man and Sylar will be the only one who can stop him, no matter if they're related.
Author's Notes: I came up with this idea one day upon waking which I wish all fics were so easy. I wondered what if there was so much more to Mr. Gray than we think. So I came up with the details that would help explain how Sylar got the ability of intuitive aptitude, his relationship with his father, and gave me some fun Mohinder and Sylar scenes that may get a smut one shot once the story is done. There are flashbacks that weave into the story that typically allow Sylar to learn more about Company/father stuff. Enjoy!
His hand gripped the doorway as he put on the most reassuring look he could think of. Brows relaxed, a warm smile perched on someone else's lips. The girl smiled brightly as he stood in the doorway, quiet and unblinking.
“Mohinder? I've missed you! Is Matt here too? Can I go back home now?”
Sylar couldn't help but to narrow his eyes down in confusion for a couple of reasons. First, this was the girl whose parents he paid a visit to a couple of years ago. Such a wonderful ability to have, knowing where someone was at all times. But, Sylar himself hadn't seen the girl in quite some time. Had she been in this facility long, is that why her eyes lit up with twin sparks of familiarity and comfort at the sight of Suresh?
Part of him also wondered who Matt was. Discreetly, he cleared his throat as he walked into the room and sat down at her bedside. His left hand slowly pushed a stray strand of hair from her face.
“Hello Molly,...”
A moment's hesitation, how would Mohinder do this? What would he say next?
“...How are you feeling today?”
She propped herself up against her pillows. It was such a welcome sight to wake up to. Lately, Mohinder had been so busy that typically it was Parkman who would sit with her. A rush of color filled her cheeks as she thought about Parkman, one of her heroes. She pegged exactly where he was in her mind and felt relieved that he was safe.
The girl's heart felt light as Mohinder silently stared at her. But her mind wandered and as it lingered, she learned a harsh truth. Her eyes closed, she thought of Mohinder, her other hero,...who was in Brooklyn at that exact moment. Instantly her eyes snapped back open and just quickly enough to view the disturbing sight of Mohinder's facial features shifting back to what was beneath. What was left behind made Molly wonder if she were actually awake.
Frequently, the nightmare man used her own greatest fears against her. But the presence of the man Molly knew as the Bogeyman was not an unusual occurrence even before those new nightmares started. Small hands wrapped tightly into her sheets as she screamed. His proximity to her was an advantage as Sylar quickly leaned forward and clamped his hand tightly over her lips. A few twisting squirms then she was silent as he stared at her, a long pale index finger pressed to his lips.
“Shhhhh,...if you keep screaming then I'm going to have to quiet you down another way. I think that you of all people know exactly what I mean. Now, are you going to be a good little girl for me?”
Those last words were spoken in a taunting, sing-song tone of voice. She forced herself to a few quiet whimpers. Carefully, Sylar took his hand away.
“P-please, don't hurt me.”
Molly's words were barely a chirp and threatened to dissolve into sobs with each syllable. Her eyes already glassy, she pulled her body in tightly to herself.
“I know about your ability Molly. There's someone that I need to find. When you do it, I'll walk out that door.”
His father's name stuck in his throat as he thought about the man more in the past couple of days or so than he had in nearly twenty years.
“Jacob Gray.”
Molly gave a small nod as she focused. Of all the people he could have asked for, of course it just had to be him. The whole thing was rather appropriate as she found him after some definite mental resistance from the other end. She told him that the man was in New York, told him the address he could be found.
As Sylar took this information in, he couldn't stop staring at the girl. A faint ticking that sounded both miles away and right next to him at the same time pounded in his mind. It built to more than just a harmless though deafening sound. Each new tick felt like a mechanism whose gears were grinding into his brain, splitting apart gray matter and tendon. His eyes went dead, more of a glinting black than the typical brown.
Lust for power filled him as Sylar's hand crept over the blanket to Molly's shivering form. Her tiny hand easily enveloped in Sylar's own as he looked curiously, intently at her. Before he was too far gone, Sylar did what he thought was appropriate.
“Thank you...”
Cold, dark tones that caused Molly to shiver her entire body once more. No, that's not what caused her to shiver. Molly glanced down at the hand trapped in Sylar's grasp, she tried to pull it away. Every nerve ending should have buzzed with the friction of the struggle between the two hands. She felt absolutely nothing, then it happened.
Light blue shot up her arm and quickly spread throughout the rest of her body. It extended down all her limb, veins that once pulsated with vibrant life were frozen and shut off in mid-flow. Fresh screams were never let out by the time Molly fully realized what Sylar did, it was far too late. He finished, that crackling sound continued as he could hear tiny, weak heartbeats slow and stop.
While she may not have gotten the chance to realize or appreciate it, Molly received something from him that so many of his prior victims desperately pleaded for. Sylar slowly stood up from the girl's bedside and walked closer. His head cocked at how a single tear had crystallized on her cheek. It glistened in the light as his left hand leveled with the girl's forehead and he slowly exhaled as he began. For Molly, there was little to no pain due to the numbness that took over her body. Sylar had given the girl the closest thing he knew of mercy.
It was such a strange collection, the quiet of it nearly unnerved him. It reminded him of the day he first saw cryokinesis in action and knew it must be his. The ability always fascinated Sylar from the day he and Chandra watched. Anne Taylor freeze the centerpiece on her dining room table. Gabriel's eyes sparked that day as did every piece of ice that glistened off the expertly arranged flowers' petals. Everything the woman said to Chandra was tuned out as Sylar watched the ice glisten.
Later that same night, Sylar returned to Anne's apartment, alone. As he was would could be considered Suresh's colleague, she welcomed him warmly. As he thought back on it now he laughed at how prepared he was. Some story he fed her about an additional survey for Chandra's files. The fact that he actually sat there and completed the whole thing with her, before he telekinetically hit her from behind with that flower vase from before, amused him greatly. Shattered porcelain and glass-like ice scattered all across the woman's carpet. Her body slumped over the coffee table and revealed a cracked open scalp. When Sylar got up to examine her, he frowned at the result. The gash wasn't large enough to gain access to that necessary part of the brain.
Frustrated, he slumped down next to Anne's body. He moved his hand over her head, his thoughts focused so hard on that ability locked inside of brain and bone. Eyes narrowed down, he focused and traced the air right in front of her wound. Wide-eyed, Sylar watched the wound split and widen with each new motion. Sure it was a bit sloppy at first, but it got the job done. A small chuckle of astonishment left his lips. Things became much easier for Sylar after that day. It was something he often thought of after a kill.
Back at the facility, Sylar wiped blood off his hands, he smeared some into Molly's sheets. One final look at the tableau he left behind and he was back out into the hall, the illusion of Mohinder back on full display. As he went to find his way back out of the building, he could suddenly hear a voice from down the hall. He turned the corner and decided to wait for the person to pass.
There just wasn't time to waste talking to people as Suresh. Also, he wasn't so delusional to think that he couldn't be easily caught should he cross the wrong person's path in a place like this. Clearly, it had the means with which to hold him.
A quick glance around the corner revealed the type of sight that easily confirmed that fact. That Haitian man from Texas was walking with an older man, one from the picture. Bob, the one whose name was in Mohinder's files and in his journal. Sylar pressed himself flatter still to the window as he looked down. His pale hands and dark clothing were once again on display. He panted in a fit of panic as he realized that he couldn't change them back while the Haitian was near him, his ability blocked anything near naturally when he was the facility. A good security measure most of the time.
Sylar turned his head to side and gazed for a moment at his own scared reflection. Hot bursts of breath fogged up the glass of the window he stood against. For a moment, he just listened to the excruciating sound of his own heartbeat pumping with terror. Suddenly, something was off. He was still panting but the reflection just stopped. He watched the image smirk and raise a brow at him, arms crossed over his chest. Sylar's mouth slammed shut as the image spoke.
“So, you're killing defenseless little girls now? How low...”
It shook it's head and clicked it's tongue at him full of disapproval. He watched, stunned as he put his hand out to touch the glass. As he stared back at himself, he vaguely wondered if he was the only one who saw and heard it.
Rating: PG-13 [Violence, yet another character death]
Pairing: Sylar/Mohinder
Characters: Sylar, Mohinder, later on Maury,Nathan, Matt, Niki, Molly and my own version of Sylar's dad.
Spoilers: Not really anything special, season 1 of course but also the Nightmare Man stuff from S2 is there but altered as another character doing it.
Word Count: 1,681
Summary: Sylar's back in New York and he's out to visit an old friend who can help him find answers as to why he's powerless. The reunion is cut short as Sylar learns more about the mysterious Company and the truth about his father's life. There is a nightmare man and Sylar will be the only one who can stop him, no matter if they're related.
Author's Notes: I came up with this idea one day upon waking which I wish all fics were so easy. I wondered what if there was so much more to Mr. Gray than we think. So I came up with the details that would help explain how Sylar got the ability of intuitive aptitude, his relationship with his father, and gave me some fun Mohinder and Sylar scenes that may get a smut one shot once the story is done. There are flashbacks that weave into the story that typically allow Sylar to learn more about Company/father stuff. Enjoy!
His hand gripped the doorway as he put on the most reassuring look he could think of. Brows relaxed, a warm smile perched on someone else's lips. The girl smiled brightly as he stood in the doorway, quiet and unblinking.
“Mohinder? I've missed you! Is Matt here too? Can I go back home now?”
Sylar couldn't help but to narrow his eyes down in confusion for a couple of reasons. First, this was the girl whose parents he paid a visit to a couple of years ago. Such a wonderful ability to have, knowing where someone was at all times. But, Sylar himself hadn't seen the girl in quite some time. Had she been in this facility long, is that why her eyes lit up with twin sparks of familiarity and comfort at the sight of Suresh?
Part of him also wondered who Matt was. Discreetly, he cleared his throat as he walked into the room and sat down at her bedside. His left hand slowly pushed a stray strand of hair from her face.
“Hello Molly,...”
A moment's hesitation, how would Mohinder do this? What would he say next?
“...How are you feeling today?”
She propped herself up against her pillows. It was such a welcome sight to wake up to. Lately, Mohinder had been so busy that typically it was Parkman who would sit with her. A rush of color filled her cheeks as she thought about Parkman, one of her heroes. She pegged exactly where he was in her mind and felt relieved that he was safe.
The girl's heart felt light as Mohinder silently stared at her. But her mind wandered and as it lingered, she learned a harsh truth. Her eyes closed, she thought of Mohinder, her other hero,...who was in Brooklyn at that exact moment. Instantly her eyes snapped back open and just quickly enough to view the disturbing sight of Mohinder's facial features shifting back to what was beneath. What was left behind made Molly wonder if she were actually awake.
Frequently, the nightmare man used her own greatest fears against her. But the presence of the man Molly knew as the Bogeyman was not an unusual occurrence even before those new nightmares started. Small hands wrapped tightly into her sheets as she screamed. His proximity to her was an advantage as Sylar quickly leaned forward and clamped his hand tightly over her lips. A few twisting squirms then she was silent as he stared at her, a long pale index finger pressed to his lips.
“Shhhhh,...if you keep screaming then I'm going to have to quiet you down another way. I think that you of all people know exactly what I mean. Now, are you going to be a good little girl for me?”
Those last words were spoken in a taunting, sing-song tone of voice. She forced herself to a few quiet whimpers. Carefully, Sylar took his hand away.
“P-please, don't hurt me.”
Molly's words were barely a chirp and threatened to dissolve into sobs with each syllable. Her eyes already glassy, she pulled her body in tightly to herself.
“I know about your ability Molly. There's someone that I need to find. When you do it, I'll walk out that door.”
His father's name stuck in his throat as he thought about the man more in the past couple of days or so than he had in nearly twenty years.
“Jacob Gray.”
Molly gave a small nod as she focused. Of all the people he could have asked for, of course it just had to be him. The whole thing was rather appropriate as she found him after some definite mental resistance from the other end. She told him that the man was in New York, told him the address he could be found.
As Sylar took this information in, he couldn't stop staring at the girl. A faint ticking that sounded both miles away and right next to him at the same time pounded in his mind. It built to more than just a harmless though deafening sound. Each new tick felt like a mechanism whose gears were grinding into his brain, splitting apart gray matter and tendon. His eyes went dead, more of a glinting black than the typical brown.
Lust for power filled him as Sylar's hand crept over the blanket to Molly's shivering form. Her tiny hand easily enveloped in Sylar's own as he looked curiously, intently at her. Before he was too far gone, Sylar did what he thought was appropriate.
“Thank you...”
Cold, dark tones that caused Molly to shiver her entire body once more. No, that's not what caused her to shiver. Molly glanced down at the hand trapped in Sylar's grasp, she tried to pull it away. Every nerve ending should have buzzed with the friction of the struggle between the two hands. She felt absolutely nothing, then it happened.
Light blue shot up her arm and quickly spread throughout the rest of her body. It extended down all her limb, veins that once pulsated with vibrant life were frozen and shut off in mid-flow. Fresh screams were never let out by the time Molly fully realized what Sylar did, it was far too late. He finished, that crackling sound continued as he could hear tiny, weak heartbeats slow and stop.
While she may not have gotten the chance to realize or appreciate it, Molly received something from him that so many of his prior victims desperately pleaded for. Sylar slowly stood up from the girl's bedside and walked closer. His head cocked at how a single tear had crystallized on her cheek. It glistened in the light as his left hand leveled with the girl's forehead and he slowly exhaled as he began. For Molly, there was little to no pain due to the numbness that took over her body. Sylar had given the girl the closest thing he knew of mercy.
It was such a strange collection, the quiet of it nearly unnerved him. It reminded him of the day he first saw cryokinesis in action and knew it must be his. The ability always fascinated Sylar from the day he and Chandra watched. Anne Taylor freeze the centerpiece on her dining room table. Gabriel's eyes sparked that day as did every piece of ice that glistened off the expertly arranged flowers' petals. Everything the woman said to Chandra was tuned out as Sylar watched the ice glisten.
Later that same night, Sylar returned to Anne's apartment, alone. As he was would could be considered Suresh's colleague, she welcomed him warmly. As he thought back on it now he laughed at how prepared he was. Some story he fed her about an additional survey for Chandra's files. The fact that he actually sat there and completed the whole thing with her, before he telekinetically hit her from behind with that flower vase from before, amused him greatly. Shattered porcelain and glass-like ice scattered all across the woman's carpet. Her body slumped over the coffee table and revealed a cracked open scalp. When Sylar got up to examine her, he frowned at the result. The gash wasn't large enough to gain access to that necessary part of the brain.
Frustrated, he slumped down next to Anne's body. He moved his hand over her head, his thoughts focused so hard on that ability locked inside of brain and bone. Eyes narrowed down, he focused and traced the air right in front of her wound. Wide-eyed, Sylar watched the wound split and widen with each new motion. Sure it was a bit sloppy at first, but it got the job done. A small chuckle of astonishment left his lips. Things became much easier for Sylar after that day. It was something he often thought of after a kill.
Back at the facility, Sylar wiped blood off his hands, he smeared some into Molly's sheets. One final look at the tableau he left behind and he was back out into the hall, the illusion of Mohinder back on full display. As he went to find his way back out of the building, he could suddenly hear a voice from down the hall. He turned the corner and decided to wait for the person to pass.
There just wasn't time to waste talking to people as Suresh. Also, he wasn't so delusional to think that he couldn't be easily caught should he cross the wrong person's path in a place like this. Clearly, it had the means with which to hold him.
A quick glance around the corner revealed the type of sight that easily confirmed that fact. That Haitian man from Texas was walking with an older man, one from the picture. Bob, the one whose name was in Mohinder's files and in his journal. Sylar pressed himself flatter still to the window as he looked down. His pale hands and dark clothing were once again on display. He panted in a fit of panic as he realized that he couldn't change them back while the Haitian was near him, his ability blocked anything near naturally when he was the facility. A good security measure most of the time.
Sylar turned his head to side and gazed for a moment at his own scared reflection. Hot bursts of breath fogged up the glass of the window he stood against. For a moment, he just listened to the excruciating sound of his own heartbeat pumping with terror. Suddenly, something was off. He was still panting but the reflection just stopped. He watched the image smirk and raise a brow at him, arms crossed over his chest. Sylar's mouth slammed shut as the image spoke.
“So, you're killing defenseless little girls now? How low...”
It shook it's head and clicked it's tongue at him full of disapproval. He watched, stunned as he put his hand out to touch the glass. As he stared back at himself, he vaguely wondered if he was the only one who saw and heard it.