heroslayer | for writer's block table: awake (rp for its

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for writer's block table: awake (rp for its_notluck)

Something shatters downstairs.

The sound is faint, not a window breaking but a cup, but it's enough to cut through the haze of faint awareness he's been floating in for the last few days and drag him gasping into full alertness. He lays there for a moment, staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to wrap his head around the sound and the odd, displaced feeling that comes with waking up somewhere you can't remember ever being, and then there's another crash from downstairs. He sits up abruptly, glaring holes in the twilight of the room, straining to listen.

He hears voices but nothing else, not even with his hearing, his focus shot to hell and wrapped in cotton, but it's enough to put him on edge. He can remember Samuel now and everything move he's made against them since he and Claire walked out of that damnable carnival, and he's quick to assume that they're under attack again. The barker has sent his cronies after them or come himself again, and he won't stand for it.

He moves to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and winces once he manages, teeth gritting, his muscles crying out from months and months of disuse. He ignores the pain, however, not even sure why it hurts in the first place, and staggers to his feet, a hand going to the nightstand to steady himself. And once he feels certain enough standing, he lets go, pushing away to move towards the door.

He gets exactly three steps away before the IV line tugs at his hand, and the shock of it is enough to send him off balance. He sprawls to the floor gracelessly, a snarl on his lips, and the voices downstairs stop abruptly.

A long, tense moment follows and then the sound of someone coming up the stairs chases the silence away. The door opens cautiously a moment later, and Peter pokes his head in, backlit by strange, flickering light. When he steps into the room, he realizes it's coming from the flames lapping harmlessly at his fingertips. He hums, amused, and tries to drag himself to his feet again.

"Whoa, hey." Peter is by his side in an instant, the fire at his hand dying suddenly, and wraps his arms around his waist. He doesn't even try to claw his way free as Peter hauls him back up to the bed. "Take it easy. You've been out of it for awhile."

Confused, he stares at Peter, trying to work out what the hell he means by that, and it all filters back to him slowly, a chill creeping up his spine as each snippet of memory returns. Giving Peter his original ability back. Passing out afterward. All of it. He opens his mouth to ask the other man just how long it's been, but he misses his chance, Peter sliding away from him to rush towards the door.

He pushes it open widely, yelling down the stairs, "Claire! He's awake!"

And Sylar can't help the stab of annoyance that follows when he realizes he must have been out of play for quite some time.

Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 526
Note: Pretty sure the ex isn't stalking me and my muses anymore, so ... Peter is

hadtobeahero and all mine to use and abuse.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He turned his head when she brushed a kiss over his cheek, trying to catch her lips and not particularly if Peter saw him kiss her. It wasn't a secret that they were together, and a part of him could at least understand her hurt even if he did not feel it himself. For him, there had been no sense of time, no obvious loss of months upon months, even if he was aware of it and unsettled by it now; for her, passage of time must have been a nightmare, not knowing when he'd wake up, if ever. Unfortunately, however, he wasn't quite quick enough, and all he managed was to brush a kiss across her cheek in turn before she retreated.

He watched her go, mutely, then turned to study Peter in the silence. Peter just looked back levelly, for once declining to comment, and he sighed, getting to his feet with much less effort this time, and meandered downstairs after Claire. Peter did not follow, presumably to clean up the mess of medical supplies he'd made in the last few months, and so Sylar contented himself to leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, his arms folded over his chest as he watched Claire.

She couldn't even begin to explain the things she felt at the moment. There was an overwhelming sense of relief to see him up and about but now it seemed strange, surreal in a way, to have him there interacting with them again. She had gotten used to his still and almost lifeless form. In a way, she had started to detach herself from the whole thing. It had been her way of compartmentalizing and dealing with the situation, if only because it helped her to continue on. It allowed her to focus on her new ability and all the abilities that she gained because of it. She had to work harder on everything that she gained, even with his intuitiveness working away in her head.

Because her senses were sharper, she knew when he joined her in the kitchen, lingering at the doorway where his eyes followed her every move. She drew in a faint breath, focusing on pouring a small amount of batter onto the waffle maker before closing it. Setting the bowl down, she turned finally to look at him, her eyes sweeping over his tall frame. "Hey." She smiled faintly, leaning back against the cupboard as she waited for the waffle to finish. "Are you thirsty?"

He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, considering the question, and then made a face. He'd realized he was hungry right away -- likely because his body had lept to repair what damage his inactivity had done to him, and that had only sharpened the intense empty feeling in the pit of his stomach -- but thirsty? It hadn't occurred to him until just now how dry his mouth really was.

He nodded. "Yeah."

She thought of making coffee but she figured that water would be easier on his system at first. Grabbing him a glass, she fetched the pitcher of water from the fridge, filling it up before moving to pass it to him. Setting the pitcher back in the fridge, she focused back on finishing breakfast. Once it was done, she brought him a plate of food, motioning to the small table that they used for their meals. "Come on, sit down." She motioned for him to take a seat.

Fixing herself a waffle, she joined him a moment a later.

Wordlessly, he took the glass of water from her and stared down at it, frowning. Then, slowly and carefully, he brought it to his lips, forcing himself to sip at it rather than down the whole thing immediately in an effort to soothe his dry mouth. The last thing he wanted was to be sick and he hadn't had anything in his stomach for four months, and Claire's healing or not, he didn't want to risk it. Better to take it slow.

He'd managed a few small mouthfuls when she finished breakfast, and he moved over to the table as ordered, setting his drink down as he took his seat. As hungry as he was, though, he didn't touch them -- he simply watched her, still frowning, and listened to Peter move around upstairs.

Looking up at him, she wasn't at all surprised to find him staring at her. Mainly because she had felt his eyes burning into her and she found herself wishing that she could actually read minds instead of moving things around with a bit of focus. Holding her fork, she twirled it lightly on top of the waffle, swiping it through the tiny bit of whipped cream that she had added to the top.

"What?" She asked softly, arching a brow at him curiously.

"Tell me what's happened the last few months." He shrugged, his eyes sliding towards the ceiling and Peter above them coolly, then looked back to her, lowering his voice. "Tell me what you have now that I don't."

Something. Anything to get her talking. Anything to kill the elephant in the room.

She wasn't even sure what was causing the weird tension that made everything feel awkward in that moment. She glanced at the ceiling as well, listening for Peter even if Sylar's ears were sharper than her own.

Keeping her voice soft, she tilted her head in consideration as she answered his question. "Telekinesis." She smiled faintly, her lips twisting with a wry sense of humor. "Which Peter is trying to help me with."

"I also took an exploding power from someone but I'm trying not to use it. It's a little hard to explain to Peter if I keep blowing things up." She wrinkled her nose. "Plus I need you to show me how to do it properly. Somehow bashing a guy's head in is just...lacking your finesse."

Edited 2011-01-12 22:12 (UTC)

He made a soft, amused noise, the tiniest of smiles lighting his face, and cocked his head to one side. "Just a little." He paused, the smile fading. "But it's not that hard. Not if you found a telekinetic."

He had a feeling she wasn't doing too well with the telekinesis -- understandable, he supposed, even given his aptitude and the natural knowledge of an ability it granted, since it was her first. He hadn't exactly been all that masterful with his telekinesis at the start, either. She would learn, just as he had, and he had a feeling she had a better grasp on the ability to make things explode, even if she hadn't used it -- the fact that she hadn't randomly destroyed the house as Peter would have if he'd accidentally picked it up years ago spoke volumes to that.

Either way, he shrugged and leveled a finger with her hairline, dragging it across her forehead without actually cutting to demonstrate just how easy it was. He made a sick, wet noise, too -- one usually reserved for Off With Their Head gestures -- in case she hadn't gotten the point.

She made a face at him as he leveled a finger at her hairline and she half expected him to start sawing into her skull but she was thankful when he didn't. "Trust me, I know how you do it." After all, she had been subjected to that a few times now. An attempt or two, one time when he took her ability and another time when the sick need had taken over.

"I just don't have the focus yet. The first time it showed up, I sent two carnies flying and blew up the window in the bedroom." She explained, cutting into her waffle to take a small bite. "That was just awhile ago. You were unconscious but a couple of Samuel's goons found us. We got out okay though, obviously."

And now that he was awake, she wouldn't have to worry so much. She left that comment unsaid though.

"I'll show you." He could probably do a better job of teaching her than Peter had been doing, if the sound when he'd come to had been any indication. Never mind that part of the problem probably had something to do with the fact that Peter was trying to teach from an empath's point of view rather than theirs, he was content to believe that Peter was just an idiot. "It's not that hard once you get used to it."

The offer was, apparently, not good for right that second, however, as he was showing interest in his breakfast now that the ice had been broken.

"We'll worry about it later." She wouldn't rush him into using any of his abilities, not right after he had woken up. She wanted him to regain some strength before he tried helping her out.

Taking a bite of her food, she found herself starting to relax with a small smile as she watched him for a moment. Watching him eat actually made her feel better as well but nothing could beat the feeling of seeing him actually up and about.

"I've been looking for abilities." She kept her voice soft, not wanting Peter to overhear them. "I've found two. I think the one guy is a teleporter from what I've seen. The other crawls up walls." Which wasn't really that exciting but maybe Sylar would find a use for it.

He offered her a close-lipped smile around a bite of his breakfast, impressed and jealous at the same time. Despite her inexperience with her telekinesis, she shouldn't have been able to resist the need to understand. She should have killed, should have been unable to help herself as he hadn't been able to resist the lure of murdering Brian Davis, and it shouldn't have mattered whether or not she could cut her victim open. Want would have found a way and it irritated him that she had been able to show restraint where he hadn't -- not that he'd ever really wanted to, but still -- but it was also impressive. She had more control than him; he wondered why.

Swallowing down his mouthful of waffles, he studied her for a moment, his eyes sharp and shining, then shook his head. He'd find out later, if she could still exhibit such control under less than dire circumstances.

"The teleporter will be hard to catch," he said, focusing himself instead on that. "Too hard to keep in one place. It's why I never managed to kill Nakamura. The other one, though ... " That would be easier, even if he had more of a taste for teleportation than for being a Spider-Man wannabe.

Claire had figured that maybe it was the worry over Sylar and being found out that had kept her from going crazy with need like he did at times. She had been more concerned about leaving bodies and drawing attention to them when they were supposed to be staying under the radar. That didn't mean she didn't hear the ticking because there were times when she thought it would completely drive her crazy to distraction but she had been lucky so far.

Watching him as his eyes sharpened on her, she considered what was running through his mind while she took another bite of her waffle.

"I've considered a couple ways to trap him. I thought of using my sexual manipulation ability even if I'm not his type at all." She chuckled faintly, thinking of what she had seen while tracking the guy. "But I don't think I'd have enough to keep him in one place once he started freaking out."

"We'd have to knock him out." Which wouldn't be any fun at all. What good was a hunt if he didn't get to see his mark struggle and beg futilely before he took what he wanted? "Either that, or we'd need something like the Haitian's power, first."

Who, for all he knew, might have been back in Haiti right now.

"Then we'd have to find someone with his ability." Maybe she had gotten a little more blood thirsty over the last while but not so much so that she would go after the Haitian himself. He had done quite a lot for her over the years and she wasn't ready to burn that bridge.

"There's got to be someone with a similar ability." She decided after a moment, finishing her waffle. Rising to her feet, she walked over to slide the plate into the sink. "I could hit him with the one ability, make it hard for him to focus but it'd still be risky."

"Maybe." He doubted it, though -- or at least doubted that it wouldn't take an age to find them. Telekinetics were a dime a dozen; people with the ability to block the power of others, not so much so. "We might have better luck trying the whole ... "

He made a vague gesture, indicating real first power she'd picked up -- perfect memory or not, he'd forgotten about that one in an effort to compare Claire's difficulties with her telekinesis to his own when she'd first started.

"I seem to remember you keeping me pretty busy once with that." He couldn't help but flash her a slow, devious smile.

The corners of her mouth twitched as she lost the battle with a devious little smirk that crawled onto her lips while she recalled the time she used the ability on him. "I did." She looked somewhat proud of herself till a chuckle eased out of her. "I also remember you being a little grouchy at me afterwards."

She figured it was because he hadn't wanted to be manipulated in any way. Still, it had taught her a bit about her ability and she wondered now just how far she could push it.

"He hangs out at a club near here. You could probably get closer to him, to lure him out somewhere, then I could get my hands on him. I could probably overload his senses so that he can't fight back or teleport away." It felt good to plot with him again and she couldn't deny the sick little thrill that ran through her because of it.

"Give it a couple of days," he suggested, finishing off his breakfast. He shot a glance at the ceiling again and collected his plate, getting to his feet slowly to carry it over to the sink. "Don't want Peter to get suspicious."

Maybe it's because it's been too long, or maybe it's because she can't resist, but she slides her arms around his waist when he joins her at the sink. Leaning in against his side, she let out a little huff as he mentioned Peter. "Fine. I suppose you should take it easy."

"You know, he's gotten a lot bossier since you've been...out." That was the best way to explain it, really.

He put his arms around her in turn and felt some of the tension bleed out of him. He might not have spent four months away from her -- not really, not in his perception of time -- but considering how awkward she had been when he'd first awoken, it was a relief to know that little had really changed.

"He was trying to protect you," he said, shrugging. It was typical of Peter, really, even if Claire didn't exactly need protecting anymore.

"That and I think he's suspicious." It was somewhat amusing to her that Sylar was making an excuse for Peter but they both knew he was right. Peter had dedicated quite a bit to protecting her and she suspected that need was stronger since the rift between him and Nathan.

Having Sylar's arms around her again was nice. She couldn't really explain the weirdness before but it was melting away now. Maybe she had feared that he would simply pass out and leave her alone again but he seemed more and more like himself as the moments passed.

"I missed you." It slipped out.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, genuinely but quietly, almost embarrassed by the apology. He looked away, finding something interesting to frown at on the floor, then looked back at her. "Did it work, at least?"

He'd hurt someone -- possibly Peter -- if the rare gift he'd tried to give hadn't taken.

"Don't worry about it." She murmured back, resting her head against his shoulder for a second till she tilted her head back to look at him curiously. "Did what work?"

He looked down at her from the corners of his eyes, turning his frown on her. He had no real desire to start an argument so soon after his triumphant return, but really, he was convinced she should know damn well what he was talking about. Regardless of whether or not it had been four months. "Me giving Peter his ability back."

for writer's block table: awake (rp for its_notluck)

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