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heroslayer"You're dead."
They both know that's not true, beyond the obviousness of the fact that he's standing here in the first place. Nathan knows it because he's the one that had started the rumor, announced it after New York had become ground zero, to protect Peter. Sylar knows it because he's fairly sure that dead men aren't as active as he is, and he'd know. He's seen his fair share of corpses over the years.
Their shared knowledge doesn't stop the elder Petrelli from practically falling over his desk in a mad dash for the phone on it. Nor does it stop Sylar from letting him get his fingers dangerously close to the receiver, before flicking it just out of reach with a sharp gesture. He really doesn't know what Nathan was trying to accomplish - a phone never saved anyone - but it's worth a laugh to watch him try. He hasn't been on a real hunt in a very long time. Not since Candice.
"Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated," he answers, smiling. Cliche, maybe, but he's having fun.
"But ... " Now Nathan's edging towards the window, as if he can escape that way. And just like he did with the phone, Sylar lets him. "What do you want?"
"Something that I've wanted for a very long time." Fear lights up Nathan's eyes like bulbs on a Christmas tree, and he jumps on it. He pins him to the glass he'd been so desperate to reach with enough force to drive spiderweb cracks in the panes - ones that only worsen as Petrelli tries without success to escape. "Something I've wanted for a very long time."
He takes his mind, takes his abilities, and when he has them he can't help but test them out, doing an aerial round of the room with a smile on his face. It's like having a shiny new toy, and he won't be caught - can't be - as Candice's powers of illusion have allowed him to fool the cameras he knows are in the room, even if he can't see them.
High on his own superiority, he doesn't even hear the footsteps racing towards the Oval Office until whoever it is is there, banging on the door. "Mister President?" Bangbangbangbang. "Petrelli!"
He touches down without a sound and takes on Nathan's face in a shuddering, sick cloud of ash colored smoke. And when he answers the door, it's Matt Parkman's face that greets him. He can't help but scowl. "Christ, Parkman. Calm down. Do you want the entire secret service up here in arms?"
Parkman looks at a loss for words, like he's not used to being talked down to. "But you ... "
"But I what?"
"The mental news flash about how I needed to get the hell up here, like yesterday," he answers, tersely, and Sylar's first thought in response is how Nathan must have called for the Head of Homeland Security, but hadn't bothered with the details. Thank God for that. And for the fact that he can remember reading that a bill had just gone through Congress banning reading the President's mind except under special circumstances.
"Oh, that." Unable to suppress his glee, he slings an arm around Parkman's shoulders and leads him into the office. "I've got something I want you to look at."
As they round the desk, Nathan's corpse hidden under miles of clever illusions, he can't help but think that this isn't the worst lie he's ever told but it is the biggest. And it'll be his masterpiece.
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Verse: Canon (Five Years Gone)
Word Count: 596
They both know that's not true, beyond the obviousness of the fact that he's standing here in the first place. Nathan knows it because he's the one that had started the rumor, announced it after New York had become ground zero, to protect Peter. Sylar knows it because he's fairly sure that dead men aren't as active as he is, and he'd know. He's seen his fair share of corpses over the years.
Their shared knowledge doesn't stop the elder Petrelli from practically falling over his desk in a mad dash for the phone on it. Nor does it stop Sylar from letting him get his fingers dangerously close to the receiver, before flicking it just out of reach with a sharp gesture. He really doesn't know what Nathan was trying to accomplish - a phone never saved anyone - but it's worth a laugh to watch him try. He hasn't been on a real hunt in a very long time. Not since Candice.
"Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated," he answers, smiling. Cliche, maybe, but he's having fun.
"But ... " Now Nathan's edging towards the window, as if he can escape that way. And just like he did with the phone, Sylar lets him. "What do you want?"
"Something that I've wanted for a very long time." Fear lights up Nathan's eyes like bulbs on a Christmas tree, and he jumps on it. He pins him to the glass he'd been so desperate to reach with enough force to drive spiderweb cracks in the panes - ones that only worsen as Petrelli tries without success to escape. "Something I've wanted for a very long time."
He takes his mind, takes his abilities, and when he has them he can't help but test them out, doing an aerial round of the room with a smile on his face. It's like having a shiny new toy, and he won't be caught - can't be - as Candice's powers of illusion have allowed him to fool the cameras he knows are in the room, even if he can't see them.
High on his own superiority, he doesn't even hear the footsteps racing towards the Oval Office until whoever it is is there, banging on the door. "Mister President?" Bangbangbangbang. "Petrelli!"
He touches down without a sound and takes on Nathan's face in a shuddering, sick cloud of ash colored smoke. And when he answers the door, it's Matt Parkman's face that greets him. He can't help but scowl. "Christ, Parkman. Calm down. Do you want the entire secret service up here in arms?"
Parkman looks at a loss for words, like he's not used to being talked down to. "But you ... "
"But I what?"
"The mental news flash about how I needed to get the hell up here, like yesterday," he answers, tersely, and Sylar's first thought in response is how Nathan must have called for the Head of Homeland Security, but hadn't bothered with the details. Thank God for that. And for the fact that he can remember reading that a bill had just gone through Congress banning reading the President's mind except under special circumstances.
"Oh, that." Unable to suppress his glee, he slings an arm around Parkman's shoulders and leads him into the office. "I've got something I want you to look at."
As they round the desk, Nathan's corpse hidden under miles of clever illusions, he can't help but think that this isn't the worst lie he's ever told but it is the biggest. And it'll be his masterpiece.
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Verse: Canon (Five Years Gone)
Word Count: 596
