Sins of the Father, Chapter 9
Title: Sins of the Father
Rating: PG-13 [Violence,]
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: 1,934
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!
He lay there on the pavement, consciousness a faded memory for a few moments. The lack of Sylar's awareness of his own mind, his own being was a welcome reprieve from all earlier onslaughts. Of being forced to deal with himself face to face, listen to his own voice echoing the fears and sentiments of weakness that resided deep within his own heart. Lips were cracked and off color, a blueish tint in the cold New York night.
A body shot up, hoarse coughs choked Sylar's lungs as he felt his thoughts rush back to him in a dizzying rush. He sat up on the rough pavement, tiny jagged pebbles rubbed under his legs as he slid himself up. His head whipped side to side, there was nothing there but himself. Bent knees slowly extended out as Sylar stood up again. Brushing off his dark pants and jacket, he moved a hand through his hair. Frost had accumulated on his arms, he rubbed them back to some semblance of warmth.
A quick glance at his watch revealed that it was getting late, this had to be dealt with right now. As he traveled through the expanses of the city to the location Molly had given him before her demise, thoughts of Mohinder being at home waiting for him at the end of everything were the only thing that kept his heart light and his blood hot in his skin against the cold brisk air. As good a motivation as any, Sylar decided as he got nearer and nearer to facing his past for what would be the very last time.
Dark gray walls, blacked out windows, and a sign marked 'Condemned' boarded over the front door. Sylar stood on the street and looked up at the building that Molly's address had led to. He was inside, just up a few flights of stairs. There was no real idea on Sylar's part what he thought would happen between he and his father. True, the man had an ability but there wasn't any clue as to what it was or could be. All he knew is that his father wanted a son who was special, and he should have been careful about what he wished for when Dr. Anderson injected young Gabriel that day.
After the boards of the door stopped clattering on the floor from the telekinetic throw, Sylar moved into the doorway. Years ago, it was a typical apartment building. Flights of stairs, a dingy broken elevator that Sylar was in no way going to try out. He squinted through the musty darkness as he slowly made his way up that first flight of stairs. It was one unsteady step after another as the hollow steps creaked and bent under his weight. It wasn't long before Sylar reached the proper floor and also heard a few distant sounds.
“...Parkman. This man could have the real answers, he could be it. The one who's going after the people in that picture.”
Sylar glanced from behind the corner and watched as two men came down the hallway. One was tall and wore a dark jacket and light gray shirt under with black slacks, nice Italian leather shoes. The other man was shorter, wore a black jacket, black pants and blue shirt underneath. A heinous striped tie fastened around his shirt. As he listened to the two men speak in what should have been more hushed tones, Sylar took a breath and retrieved the Mohinder visage.
Matt Parkman stopped in front of one of the doors and stood there, glancing at Nathan Petrelli. They had earlier unsuccessfully attempted to confront Molly's so-called 'Nightmare Man' in the form of Parkman's long-lost father Maury. After the two had busted down the man's door, it became very clear that this was not the man they were looking for. Huddled in a corner of his kitchen shaking in a catatonic trance Maury Parkman was now trapped into his own mind. A black shotgun rested by his side and gleamed dully in the yellow light of the messy kitchen.
Nathan was able to pull the gun barrel away from the man's waiting lips as Matt focused everything he had to try to dig inside his father's mind and pull him back from the brink. It nearly caused Matt to get trapped himself but he eventually succeeded. After Maury came to, he dissolved into shaking sobs as he mumbled over and over to himself about a man named Jacob. Apologies again and again for betraying this man. As he did years ago when Bob Bishop forced Maury to get him to tell everything he knew about what Jacob Gray did behind the Company's back. He was lucky he wasn't killed as Dr. Anderson was.
Jacob only told Maury and therefore when the time came for him to get revenge against these people, Maury was certainly on the list. Nathan and Matt had been able to track down Jacob Gray's last known address. They doubted he would actually be there but they had to try, for little Molly's sake if nothing else. Now they stood in front of the door 1516 and thought about how they should proceed if this man really was inside. Parkman heard a shuffle of feet on the warped, cracked flooring. He swung his already drawn and ready gun toward the sound. Out of the shadows Matt watched Mohinder come out, hands in front of him, the ever-constant annoyed look on his face.
“My God ....Parkman. It's just me, put that thing down.”
Thanks to the restoration of eidetic memory, Sylar was able to instantly think of the man's name. As he got closer, wearing Mohinder's charming, soothing smile he noticed something. Sylar very much knew this man. One of the many distractions Sylar dealt with at Kirby Plaza. Five bullets later, this man looked perfectly fine. Could he heal too? Mohinder stopped in front of him as Parkman quirked a brow in confusion.
“Mohinder? What are you doing here? How did you find this place?”
Yes, how did Mohinder find the place? Sylar thought for a moment how to play this as he kept an eye on the other man in the corner. There was something oddly familiar about him, in the face something that struck Sylar as a thing he should already know. After perhaps a moment too long of silent thought Sylar decided it was because of the girl.
“Molly...Molly I went to go visit her while I had some files to pick up. She was, screaming and upset about a bad dream she had. I convinced her to....”
He stopped, Mohinder had no reason to be there that Sylar knew of. Mohinder's eyes darted frantically from one person to the next. Someone had to prompt him, give him a reason to keep the lie going. Instead Parkman started to raise the gun once more, the other man tensed, his heartbeat changed in Sylar's thoughts.
Parkman never wanted to be forced to read the mind of his friend. However, the whole situation rang as very false to Matt and it was important to keep the guard up in such a potentially dangerous situation. With a quick focused burst of concentration he dug into what should have been Mohinder's thoughts. Instead was some sort of sound like he could hear every tick of each new thought. A dark inner voice, smooth and cold streamed through.
What did they say about being here...something about the picture. Hm, Parkman wants to do this for Molly, how sweet. Shame it's already too late for her
Parkman was utterly stunned but at the words about Molly he raised his gun at Mohinder. He looked offended and took a step backward.
“Parkman, what the Hell are you doing?! Put that down before it goes off and someone gets hurt.”
The man made a movement for the gun when Parkman cocked it and moved back.
“Stay back! You....are not Mohinder. Who are you?! Where's Molly? I swear if you hurt her, I'll put you down here and now”
Nathan turned and moved toward them, cautiously.
“Matt, what are you doing? Did you get something from him?”
A wary eye glanced from Petrelli to a man who wasn't scared of a gun in his face as Suresh would be. Mohinder's face hardened, jaw clenched and loosened as he took another step back.
“Don't move!”
Mohinder's bright reassuring smile spread out over his lips, eyes sparkled. His lilting accent betrayed the harsh arrogance of his words.
“Well, it was worth a try I suppose.”
A flick of a caramel hand and Parkman's gun was wrenched free from his deadly grip. It smashed into the adjacent wall. Pieces scattered from the force of the impact as Mohinder faded in front of Matt and was replaced by something else instead. Sylar smiled as he stood in front of Parkman and now Nathan who moved to Matt's side. With a cocky glance to the busted remains of Matt's 9mm Sylar's grin dropped.
“Now now, let's not go there again. I'm sure you know what happens next.”
Nathan went for the man and sucker punched him hard to his right jaw. Sylar's head snapped to the side as he smiled.
“Oh, that was not a wise dec--”
When his eyes opened again, and he spat rich copper blood from his mouth onto the floor. He was faced once more with his doppleganger. Matt and Nathan were gone as he stared his own reflection down. It looked different again, blood drenched on its hands as it smiled at Sylar. With not a word spoken between them, it rushed out at Sylar and tackled him to the floor. Flooring of a building that old was ready to go at anytime anyway. The weight of the fall caused the boards to splinter and crack. For a moment they were still, then Sylar gasped as he fell through the floor and a long way down to the next level underneath him.
A bone-crunching smack as pieces of wood fell around and on him. He coughed and sputtered dust escaped his rough dry lungs. When he opened his eyes again, it was gone. During the fall he barely glimpsed in old abandoned room. As he got up , body sore and bruised, he realized something haunting. Something made him twitch as it fell from the ceiling. After a few moments , he held his hand out and felt cold wet splatters against his open palm. The room seemed to slowly brighten up as Sylar's eyes readjusted to the light that came out of nowhere. It was a cold white winter sort of sunlight. Not terribly bright but present. A crunch occurred under Sylar's black boots as he bent down and slid his hand to the freezing cold surface.
His hand grazed the surface and felt it hard then soft as he grasped a wet handful of....snow. Eyes narrowed down in confusion as he gingerly pressed the snow between his hands and felt it melt instantly. The chill of the air became apparent as he glanced up, there was no more ceiling, just pitch darkness. Yet the room was bright and the snow was falling faster. Clinging to his spiky dark hair, to his eyebrows, frosted into his stubble. Like someone had just tipped over a snow-globe, the white flakes fell and Sylar was now going to learn exactly what his father could do. The snowflakes that melted in his hand had left behind nothing but dark, cold blood.
Rating: PG-13 [Violence,]
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: 1,934
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!
He lay there on the pavement, consciousness a faded memory for a few moments. The lack of Sylar's awareness of his own mind, his own being was a welcome reprieve from all earlier onslaughts. Of being forced to deal with himself face to face, listen to his own voice echoing the fears and sentiments of weakness that resided deep within his own heart. Lips were cracked and off color, a blueish tint in the cold New York night.
A body shot up, hoarse coughs choked Sylar's lungs as he felt his thoughts rush back to him in a dizzying rush. He sat up on the rough pavement, tiny jagged pebbles rubbed under his legs as he slid himself up. His head whipped side to side, there was nothing there but himself. Bent knees slowly extended out as Sylar stood up again. Brushing off his dark pants and jacket, he moved a hand through his hair. Frost had accumulated on his arms, he rubbed them back to some semblance of warmth.
A quick glance at his watch revealed that it was getting late, this had to be dealt with right now. As he traveled through the expanses of the city to the location Molly had given him before her demise, thoughts of Mohinder being at home waiting for him at the end of everything were the only thing that kept his heart light and his blood hot in his skin against the cold brisk air. As good a motivation as any, Sylar decided as he got nearer and nearer to facing his past for what would be the very last time.
Dark gray walls, blacked out windows, and a sign marked 'Condemned' boarded over the front door. Sylar stood on the street and looked up at the building that Molly's address had led to. He was inside, just up a few flights of stairs. There was no real idea on Sylar's part what he thought would happen between he and his father. True, the man had an ability but there wasn't any clue as to what it was or could be. All he knew is that his father wanted a son who was special, and he should have been careful about what he wished for when Dr. Anderson injected young Gabriel that day.
After the boards of the door stopped clattering on the floor from the telekinetic throw, Sylar moved into the doorway. Years ago, it was a typical apartment building. Flights of stairs, a dingy broken elevator that Sylar was in no way going to try out. He squinted through the musty darkness as he slowly made his way up that first flight of stairs. It was one unsteady step after another as the hollow steps creaked and bent under his weight. It wasn't long before Sylar reached the proper floor and also heard a few distant sounds.
“...Parkman. This man could have the real answers, he could be it. The one who's going after the people in that picture.”
Sylar glanced from behind the corner and watched as two men came down the hallway. One was tall and wore a dark jacket and light gray shirt under with black slacks, nice Italian leather shoes. The other man was shorter, wore a black jacket, black pants and blue shirt underneath. A heinous striped tie fastened around his shirt. As he listened to the two men speak in what should have been more hushed tones, Sylar took a breath and retrieved the Mohinder visage.
Matt Parkman stopped in front of one of the doors and stood there, glancing at Nathan Petrelli. They had earlier unsuccessfully attempted to confront Molly's so-called 'Nightmare Man' in the form of Parkman's long-lost father Maury. After the two had busted down the man's door, it became very clear that this was not the man they were looking for. Huddled in a corner of his kitchen shaking in a catatonic trance Maury Parkman was now trapped into his own mind. A black shotgun rested by his side and gleamed dully in the yellow light of the messy kitchen.
Nathan was able to pull the gun barrel away from the man's waiting lips as Matt focused everything he had to try to dig inside his father's mind and pull him back from the brink. It nearly caused Matt to get trapped himself but he eventually succeeded. After Maury came to, he dissolved into shaking sobs as he mumbled over and over to himself about a man named Jacob. Apologies again and again for betraying this man. As he did years ago when Bob Bishop forced Maury to get him to tell everything he knew about what Jacob Gray did behind the Company's back. He was lucky he wasn't killed as Dr. Anderson was.
Jacob only told Maury and therefore when the time came for him to get revenge against these people, Maury was certainly on the list. Nathan and Matt had been able to track down Jacob Gray's last known address. They doubted he would actually be there but they had to try, for little Molly's sake if nothing else. Now they stood in front of the door 1516 and thought about how they should proceed if this man really was inside. Parkman heard a shuffle of feet on the warped, cracked flooring. He swung his already drawn and ready gun toward the sound. Out of the shadows Matt watched Mohinder come out, hands in front of him, the ever-constant annoyed look on his face.
“My God ....Parkman. It's just me, put that thing down.”
Thanks to the restoration of eidetic memory, Sylar was able to instantly think of the man's name. As he got closer, wearing Mohinder's charming, soothing smile he noticed something. Sylar very much knew this man. One of the many distractions Sylar dealt with at Kirby Plaza. Five bullets later, this man looked perfectly fine. Could he heal too? Mohinder stopped in front of him as Parkman quirked a brow in confusion.
“Mohinder? What are you doing here? How did you find this place?”
Yes, how did Mohinder find the place? Sylar thought for a moment how to play this as he kept an eye on the other man in the corner. There was something oddly familiar about him, in the face something that struck Sylar as a thing he should already know. After perhaps a moment too long of silent thought Sylar decided it was because of the girl.
“Molly...Molly I went to go visit her while I had some files to pick up. She was, screaming and upset about a bad dream she had. I convinced her to....”
He stopped, Mohinder had no reason to be there that Sylar knew of. Mohinder's eyes darted frantically from one person to the next. Someone had to prompt him, give him a reason to keep the lie going. Instead Parkman started to raise the gun once more, the other man tensed, his heartbeat changed in Sylar's thoughts.
Parkman never wanted to be forced to read the mind of his friend. However, the whole situation rang as very false to Matt and it was important to keep the guard up in such a potentially dangerous situation. With a quick focused burst of concentration he dug into what should have been Mohinder's thoughts. Instead was some sort of sound like he could hear every tick of each new thought. A dark inner voice, smooth and cold streamed through.
What did they say about being here...something about the picture. Hm, Parkman wants to do this for Molly, how sweet. Shame it's already too late for her
Parkman was utterly stunned but at the words about Molly he raised his gun at Mohinder. He looked offended and took a step backward.
“Parkman, what the Hell are you doing?! Put that down before it goes off and someone gets hurt.”
The man made a movement for the gun when Parkman cocked it and moved back.
“Stay back! You....are not Mohinder. Who are you?! Where's Molly? I swear if you hurt her, I'll put you down here and now”
Nathan turned and moved toward them, cautiously.
“Matt, what are you doing? Did you get something from him?”
A wary eye glanced from Petrelli to a man who wasn't scared of a gun in his face as Suresh would be. Mohinder's face hardened, jaw clenched and loosened as he took another step back.
“Don't move!”
Mohinder's bright reassuring smile spread out over his lips, eyes sparkled. His lilting accent betrayed the harsh arrogance of his words.
“Well, it was worth a try I suppose.”
A flick of a caramel hand and Parkman's gun was wrenched free from his deadly grip. It smashed into the adjacent wall. Pieces scattered from the force of the impact as Mohinder faded in front of Matt and was replaced by something else instead. Sylar smiled as he stood in front of Parkman and now Nathan who moved to Matt's side. With a cocky glance to the busted remains of Matt's 9mm Sylar's grin dropped.
“Now now, let's not go there again. I'm sure you know what happens next.”
Nathan went for the man and sucker punched him hard to his right jaw. Sylar's head snapped to the side as he smiled.
“Oh, that was not a wise dec--”
When his eyes opened again, and he spat rich copper blood from his mouth onto the floor. He was faced once more with his doppleganger. Matt and Nathan were gone as he stared his own reflection down. It looked different again, blood drenched on its hands as it smiled at Sylar. With not a word spoken between them, it rushed out at Sylar and tackled him to the floor. Flooring of a building that old was ready to go at anytime anyway. The weight of the fall caused the boards to splinter and crack. For a moment they were still, then Sylar gasped as he fell through the floor and a long way down to the next level underneath him.
A bone-crunching smack as pieces of wood fell around and on him. He coughed and sputtered dust escaped his rough dry lungs. When he opened his eyes again, it was gone. During the fall he barely glimpsed in old abandoned room. As he got up , body sore and bruised, he realized something haunting. Something made him twitch as it fell from the ceiling. After a few moments , he held his hand out and felt cold wet splatters against his open palm. The room seemed to slowly brighten up as Sylar's eyes readjusted to the light that came out of nowhere. It was a cold white winter sort of sunlight. Not terribly bright but present. A crunch occurred under Sylar's black boots as he bent down and slid his hand to the freezing cold surface.
His hand grazed the surface and felt it hard then soft as he grasped a wet handful of....snow. Eyes narrowed down in confusion as he gingerly pressed the snow between his hands and felt it melt instantly. The chill of the air became apparent as he glanced up, there was no more ceiling, just pitch darkness. Yet the room was bright and the snow was falling faster. Clinging to his spiky dark hair, to his eyebrows, frosted into his stubble. Like someone had just tipped over a snow-globe, the white flakes fell and Sylar was now going to learn exactly what his father could do. The snowflakes that melted in his hand had left behind nothing but dark, cold blood.