for philosophy_20: infinity (with
four_too_long)
Sep. 1st, 2008 01:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
The wind from this height was nothing short of frigid, but he supposed that was nothing surprising. The weather in Colorado was oftentimes fickle, particularly where winters were concerned, and the air here had long since cleared of any smog that might have held warmth to the city. Couple that with the fact that lightning had struck here years back, burning down a fair part of it - this building seemed to be the only thing with any height, still standing - and well. What remained of Denver was all too willing to hold a chill.
Sylar, however, seemed nothing short of unconcerned.
It didn't matter. His skin would heal itself - was healing itself - from the wind burn, and there was no way he could die of hypothermia or anything along those lines. Not anymore. Not for years. Not since Adam had offered him his gift, decades ago.
At the time it had been everything he'd ever wanted, his fear of death forever banished. He wouldn't have to lust after the cheerleader and her power from afar, because he wasn't allowed to take it. He'd never have to worry about any injury, which was something that was a distinct possibility, from fixing the power in New York to the wild dogs that had come with that first spring. He'd never have to grow old and die. He was immortal. Eternal. Infinite. Forever younger than thirty and loving every second of it.
And he'd been so high on power at the time that he hadn't seen the one hitch in his plan. His attachment to Mohinder.
It had taken him years to notice, really. He'd been so blind that he'd ignored the fact that the geneticist had taken to wearing glasses when he read or the gray hairs that had started appearing in his hair. He hadn't noticed, still saw him as the man he'd met in Virginia Beach all those years ago, until Suresh had gotten sick. And by then it was far, far too late. Mohinder had fallen apart in his arms, succumbing to old age, and he'd come to the city in the wake of his love's death to try and find a way to end his own life.
So far, it hadn't been going very well. All he'd managed to do was throw himself off of a building, this building, three times. He'd broken every bone in his body, every time. And while he knew how to work his ability far better than Adam did, so much so that he could turn it on and off at will - usually when he wanted to keep the marks the Indian left on him after they slept together - his body revolted every time he hit pavement. It was like putting too much weight on wet rice paper. He sustained a mortal wound, even when the ability was off, and it snapped back on to ensure his continued survival. It was turning out to be more curse than gift.
He sighed at the thought, breath caught in frigid air for a moment, before shuffling towards the edge of the roof. Did he really want to throw himself off the building again? The pain wasn't doing much for him, not taking the edge off the ache in his chest in the least, and he clearly wasn't going to die, so why bother? Why bother.
Another sigh, and instead of throwing himself off the roof a fourth time, he settled down on the ledge, feet dangling down over the remains of the city. He'd stay here awhile and think. About what, he didn't know, but that was what he had done when upset, once upon a time.
Sylar, however, seemed nothing short of unconcerned.
It didn't matter. His skin would heal itself - was healing itself - from the wind burn, and there was no way he could die of hypothermia or anything along those lines. Not anymore. Not for years. Not since Adam had offered him his gift, decades ago.
At the time it had been everything he'd ever wanted, his fear of death forever banished. He wouldn't have to lust after the cheerleader and her power from afar, because he wasn't allowed to take it. He'd never have to worry about any injury, which was something that was a distinct possibility, from fixing the power in New York to the wild dogs that had come with that first spring. He'd never have to grow old and die. He was immortal. Eternal. Infinite. Forever younger than thirty and loving every second of it.
And he'd been so high on power at the time that he hadn't seen the one hitch in his plan. His attachment to Mohinder.
It had taken him years to notice, really. He'd been so blind that he'd ignored the fact that the geneticist had taken to wearing glasses when he read or the gray hairs that had started appearing in his hair. He hadn't noticed, still saw him as the man he'd met in Virginia Beach all those years ago, until Suresh had gotten sick. And by then it was far, far too late. Mohinder had fallen apart in his arms, succumbing to old age, and he'd come to the city in the wake of his love's death to try and find a way to end his own life.
So far, it hadn't been going very well. All he'd managed to do was throw himself off of a building, this building, three times. He'd broken every bone in his body, every time. And while he knew how to work his ability far better than Adam did, so much so that he could turn it on and off at will - usually when he wanted to keep the marks the Indian left on him after they slept together - his body revolted every time he hit pavement. It was like putting too much weight on wet rice paper. He sustained a mortal wound, even when the ability was off, and it snapped back on to ensure his continued survival. It was turning out to be more curse than gift.
He sighed at the thought, breath caught in frigid air for a moment, before shuffling towards the edge of the roof. Did he really want to throw himself off the building again? The pain wasn't doing much for him, not taking the edge off the ache in his chest in the least, and he clearly wasn't going to die, so why bother? Why bother.
Another sigh, and instead of throwing himself off the roof a fourth time, he settled down on the ledge, feet dangling down over the remains of the city. He'd stay here awhile and think. About what, he didn't know, but that was what he had done when upset, once upon a time.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-08 05:21 am (UTC)He had loved others in the past, looked back on them, trying to hold on to the fond memories rather than the sour ones. But they weren’t forever, they held no promise of being around the next day, or the day after that. Peter was as forever as they were, but he never could understand. Peter could never relate, even in painful times, there was an air of naivete surrounding him that he could not shake off. Sylar already knew what it was like, to lose and find and lose again, to be lost so utterly without someone’s guidance. Adam no longer needed to follow. Now he leads.
How much time had passed, the blond had lost track, preoccupied in giving Sylar the heat he possessed. It was awkward footing, leaning over to kiss Sylar, one that he realized he would lose, if they did not move soon. Not entirely too concerned with that, but rather more with Sylar’s reaction, Adam finally pulled away, just barely, breath puffing out faintly across the other’s face.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-08 06:14 am (UTC)The surprise was quick to pass, however, and then he was kissing back.
He was more delicate than he had ever been with Mohinder, almost hesitant. Not that he didn't want this - the connection, the warmth - more he had gotten used to having his things fall apart in his hands. Breaking like china dolls, no matter how careful he was. He knew that Adam wouldn't crumble to dust as surely as everything else in his life would, could still hear him ticking to confirm this, but he couldn't help it.
It didn't stop him from looking almost disappointed when Adam pulled away, though.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-09 12:57 am (UTC)“I won’t break.” Adam murmured against Gabriel’s lips, his hand that had wrapped itself around his friend’s squeezed just slightly to emphasize his words. “You don’t have to be alone.”
He moved his hand from the other immortal’s jaw to behind his neck, and began playing with the very tips of hair that lay there. Using that small gesture to drag him gently downward for another kiss, Adam tilted his head and parted his own lips to encourage Gabriel further.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-11 02:21 am (UTC)Why hadn't he told him it was going to be like this? Why hadn't he warned him that everything he loved, he'd have to leave behind? Could he fix it? Make the cold that had fenced in his heart go away? Was this plan all along? He didn't know. And as he traced his teeth roughly over Adam's lower lip, he decided that right now, he didn't care.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-11 06:04 am (UTC)If the teeth on his lip was an indication of anything, through a quick decision, Adam opened up to them. He figured Sylar would want dominance in this. As did he, but if this would guarantee Sylar’s stay, then this would be but a small sacrifice in return for what he would gain in return. Someone to spend eternity with.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-13 08:20 pm (UTC)Adam wouldn't break, true, but he still felt. He'd feel Sylar throwing the two of them off the building more than just physically, and then what? Would the other immortal consider that a betrayal of trust? Would he decide that he just simply wasn't worth his time, if he did something like that, and leave him behind? He didn't know, and he really didn't want to find out.
So, instead of trying to murder them both, he pushed his tongue into Adam's mouth, surprisingly gentle when compared to the fury of his lips. And, curiously, he set to work tracing the ridges along the roof of his mouth.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-14 09:14 pm (UTC)Even with eyes closed, Adam managed to pick up Gabriel’s hand that still lay in the snow, and positioned it on his hip, then taking his own hand, and mirroring the gesture on Gabriel’s hip.
From there, he pulled the other immortal man closer to him, and in the slowest of movements, began drifting away from the ledge, hoping to bring the other along with him. The further away from the edge, the better for the both of them. That small bit of concrete now meant something symbolic, it was the beginning of an endless cycle of dying, reviving, and repeating. Distance would put a stop to the cycle, but Adam would put an end to it.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-14 10:46 pm (UTC)Eventually, however, as they swayed away from the ledge, nearly dancing, he either came to his senses or curoisity got the better of him, and as such, he pulled away. He didn't stray too far, though, fingers not on his hip still curled in his shirt, lips still ghosting his, as if he was trying to catch his breath and make his own, and the vague distance would help.
"Where are we going," he mumbled against his mouth.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-15 02:10 am (UTC)He continued dragging the other along with him, until his back was finally against the outer wall of the small room built solely for the purpose of sheltering the roof access stairwell. Far enough away for now, and although they should go inside, out of the cold, and somewhat more solid than what they were dealing with now - a frozen, likely deteriorating wall – but Adam wanted this without any further distractions. The longer you leave someone alone in their thoughts, the more doubt can cloud their minds. He didn’t want there to be any doubt or regret in this.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 06:07 pm (UTC)"We should go inside," the killer offered, when he finally pulled away. And then, as if this was news to him, "It's snowing."
no subject
Date: 2008-09-27 04:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-27 04:53 pm (UTC)He turned out his pockets, snow falling to meet its fellows on the ground in sick, wet thumps, and tried not to think of how he was fairly sure he'd made the same sound when he'd jumped. Tried and managed, mostly, as he followed Adam into the building without so much as a word.
And, where realization of just how freezing he was had been a dull one, when they'd stood on the roof, he was so very aware of it now. Mostly, he figured, because it was warmer, down here. Not warm by in any sense of the word, since the heating had died decades ago, but warmer, away from the wind and the snow. He couldn't help but shiver.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-01 01:27 am (UTC)But the room didn’t matter right now, only the individuals inside of it, Gabriel shaking enough Adam thought the other might collapse. “You probably aren’t doing yourself any favors by wearing a wet coat,” He commented, holding his eyes on Gabriel and watching him to see if he even had enough warmth for his breath to be visible in the surrounding frozen office.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-01 01:45 am (UTC)Probably because of all the trauma from killing himself again and again and again. Or, maybe, as Adam had pointed out, because he was still wearing his coat, wet and cold and not helping.
He made a face, reaching up to peel it off sluggishly, only to drop it on a long abandoned chair a moment later. His clothing was still wet, but no where near as saturated as the coat had been, and even if that was making things worse? It wasn't as though he could simply strip--then the cold would bite at him, just as surely as the wet had been, a moment before.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-01 02:14 am (UTC)If Sylar was to go unconscious on their way back home, without any form of transportation, it would quickly become a lengthy journey Adam would rather not make. Not if he could keep the other awake long enough before his body shut down into a temporary sleep.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-01 02:30 am (UTC)Shrugging into it, he was amazingly grateful for an instant that he and Adam were relatively the same build. Mostly. The coat wouldn't quite close over his chest, when he pulled it close, trying to draw the lingering body heat it held into himself, but it was good enough. It was dry and warm, where he wasn't, and it was--hopefully--giving his body break enough from the cold to save him from death and rebirth from hypothermia.
He hadn't stopped shivering, though. Not just yet.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-01 03:18 am (UTC)Even if Gabriel didn’t know that already, it gave Adam the excuse of there being reasoning behind pulling himself closer to the other. Along with the second time he pushed his lips against Gabriel’s, not forceful, but certainly sudden.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-01 03:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-01 04:10 am (UTC)He raised his hands to Gabriel’s arms to grasp the fabric lightly, and began to move them in a slightly rhythmic pattern along the other. An appropriate cure for hypothermia was friction, which is exactly what Adam planned on.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-04 10:11 pm (UTC)He sighed, eyes fluttering closed slowly, and wrapped his arms around the other immortal. Again, whether it was for warmth or attention, it was hard to tell, but considering he was holding him like a child with a favored stuffed animal? A guess or two could be ventured.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-20 10:35 pm (UTC)One arm remaining on Gabriel’s arm, the other dragged it’s way to take place on Sylar’s hip once again, fiddling with the fabrics that separated skin from skin. Adam’s own fingertips felt burning when he touched the comparison, if only his angel wasn’t so cold…
no subject
Date: 2008-10-26 09:41 pm (UTC)"I've got a car. Downstairs." That would be warmer still with the heat on, even if he didn't particularly feel like moving. As was evidenced by the fact that, well, he didn't seem to be budging an inch.