for philosophy_20: the killers lyrics (rp for hornrimmed)

[heroslayer]

In all honesty, Sylar had no idea why he'd been so adamant on meeting with Bennet in the first place.

He had no reason to love the man, after all, no reason to care, when he fell in the same category as Nakamura, both of them people to be hated rather than to try and make amends with. Perhaps Bennet was worse, in a way, even. The man had tortured him, deliberately and to death, despite the fact that it was revenge, which he understood, and he'd survived, his brain having forced his heart to start beating again. He'd also threatened Mohinder, from what his geneticist had told him, hurt the Indian when he had very clear rules about what happened to people who touched the things that were his.

Bennet was worse than Nakamura because the damn Japanese kid hadn't done what he'd done with malicious intent where the man in the hornrimmed glasses had, and yet here he was, getting off a plane from Manhattan to meet the sonovabitch at a coffee shop in Costa Verde. He'd even offered to let him walk away with his life, just this once, and for what? Because he was important to Claire? Because he wanted to rub it in that it had been him that had saved Baileigh, when he'd sat around and been powerless? Because he wanted certain assurances, threatened out of Bennet or given freely, that he'd leave Suresh alone?

He didn't know. And as he had when he'd gone to visit Molly in her dreams, he was immediately regretting his decisions, all too willing to blame it on outside factors.

At least it was a coffee shop they were meeting at. It wasn't his usual, nor was it the one that Claire worked at that he'd taken up frequenting to bother his niece, but he could still make it work in his favor. Coffee shops always did, regardless of whether or not they were on his home turf.

Sighing, unhappy, he thumbed idly at his carry-on--he hadn't bothered with an overnight bag as he was catching the first flight back, once this was over--he moved to the row of pay phones outside, and looked up the number for a cab company. Then, once he'd called for a pick up, he moved to the curb outside, shifting from one foot to the other, restlessly, as he waited for the car to come.

And sooner rather than later, he in the cab and then out, heading into the coffee shop Bennet had specified, every inch of him on edge, ready for a fight, just in case Bennet couldn't keep his word.

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[heroslayer]

Sylar sighed, leaning back, his temper fading as quickly as it had come. "I don't know."

Maybe he wanted to apologize, but he didn't want Bennet's forgiveness--if he said he was sorry, it would be for Claire, not for the other man. And now that that had occurred to him, he was quick to point it out. "I'm not here for you. I don't need your forgiveness. But you're important to Claire. And she's important to me. So I thought maybe we could learn to be civil, so we could spend ten minutes in the same room together, on days when it's important for her for both of us to be there."

[hornrimmed.livejournal.com]

He shook his head slightly. "Why is she important to you? I just..." He sighed. "Well. How long has it been, now?" he asked, checking his watch. "I think we can manage it."

[heroslayer]

"She's giving me a chance," he replied, putting his hands on the table to pass his coffee mug between them, telekinetically. It was a nervous habit of his, something he did often, regardless of whether or not there happened to be eyes on him--in New York, people ignored what they didn't understand, after all. And here? The place was empty enough that he didn't even think about it before he started, and when it did occur to him that, perhaps, this wasn't the wisest move, he figured the way he'd positioned himself would hide what he was doing well enough.

"She doesn't have to, but she is. Her. Peter." He shrugged, the cup skidding to a halt, and looked up at Bennet. "It's more than anyone else would offer, and it's more than that." How deep his relationship with his niece was none of the other man's concern--not unless Claire felt compelled to mention it, first--but there it was. She was important because she treated him like a human being, like a proper uncle, rather than a monster, and he valued that.

[hornrimmed.livejournal.com]

His eyes narrowed slightly, tracking the cup, Sylar's flagrant use of power. He tensed minutely. It was an act on the same scale as him pulling his gun out and playing with it, whether the man meant anything by it or not.

"I just want her to be safe. Happy." Being around Sylar didn't seem likely to let her fulfill those goals.

[heroslayer]

He tensed as Bennet did, empathy a double-edged sword even around people he didn't care much for, and then relaxed as he realized the cause for it. Shooting Bennet a look that might have passed for apologetic, however briefly, he shrugged before looking away, toying with his cup again, albeit this time under his own power. "I kept my word about letting you walk out of this alive. We both know if I'd wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now."

A pause, and he raised his eyes without ever moving his head, studying him heatedly from under his eyebrows, before, "Would you believe me if I promised that I won't let anything happen to her while she's with me?"

[hornrimmed.livejournal.com]

He clenched his jaw. As much as he hated to admit it, Sylar was right; he was useless against him. And... he hadn't done anything but talk. Maybe he was actually serious about this, as impossible as it seemed...

He met Sylar's gaze, his own cold, calculating. "I can try," he said. "That's all I can promise."

[heroslayer]

The killer nodded, raising his cup to his mouth, though he didn't drink from it, nor did he look away. "Good enough," he murmured, and then he was taking a sip of his coffee.

[hornrimmed.livejournal.com]

"We may have to spend more time together so you can prove yourself." He raised an eyebrow slightly and likewise sipped his coffee.

[heroslayer]

He set his mug down, offering Bennet a wry smile, knowing full well that the idea probably appealed to Bennet just as much as it struck his own fancy. And briefly, because of it, he had half a mind to make some snide comment--something along the lines of whether or not he and Sandra would like him over for dinner--but he thought better of it. Bennet had done as asked and was trying, after all, and if this was going to work in any way, he could at least afford the man the same courtesy. For Claire.

"Maybe," he agreed, finally. "But I need to know something, first."

Something in earnest, without sarcasm or malice.

[hornrimmed.livejournal.com]

"What?" he asked. He shifted slightly, his fingers tightening around his cup. He waited for Sylar's question, not at all sure what was coming. Bennet did not like uncertainty.

[heroslayer]

"I know you're still working for my mother," he started, pressing his lips into a frown. Truthfully, though, he wasn't entirely sure about that one--he was just running on his own assumptions and what Claire had told him--but it seemed likely to be the truth, and if it wasn't? Bennet could correct him. "I need to be sure you won't come after me or Suresh." A pause, and then he amended, "Or Molly Walker."

If Bennet did, well, he might have to go back on his word. Or, at very least, end his mother as painfully as possible.

"Suresh and Molly are no threat to you or Angela," Sylar continued, holding Bennet's gaze pointedly. "And I haven't killed since New Year's Eve--Knox, for what he did to Claire--so neither am I. Not really."

[hornrimmed.livejournal.com]

He laughed softly. "I'm not working for Angela. I need the resources the Company has to capture the ones who escaped--like Knox--to kedp them from being a danger to the world. Once that's done I'm gone."

A slight pause, considering, then he went on. "I have no interest in Molly. Parkman has her well in hand. Suresh is a traitorous son of a bitch, but he's not worth my time. You... we'll see."

[heroslayer]

"Well, then." His expression one-eightied into a tight smile. "Looks like you have one less escapee to worry about." Not that he'd meant to do Bennet a favor in killing Knox, just protecting what was his, but he still had, apparently. Whether he'd try and collect on it later, however, was up for debate. He'd have to see how things went.

The smile disappeared a moment later. "You know I can't be killed. You know the only person capable of stopping me, if I went back to my old ways, is Peter. I haven't killed you. I won't hurt Claire. And the few people I might actually do something to, I swore I wouldn't touch. Ever. As long as I live." He shrugged, shooting the briefest glance down at his coffee cup, regretting offering Nakamura his life, as per usual, and then looked back up. "So, why bother with me?"

All this seemed a much better topic of conversation than snapping at Bennet for calling Mohinder a traitor when the other man had started it.

[hornrimmed.livejournal.com]

He gave a frustrated sigh, and decided to go with honesty. "I'm not going to come after you. I'm not the type to get myself killed to no purpose." He would risk his life--and had--for several reasons, but taking on Sylar was suicide, and pointless to boot.

He would gladly see the man dead, of course. That went without saying.

[heroslayer]

Sylar couldn't help but look amused. "But you wouldn't stop someone else from doing the job, if you thought they could handle me." It wouldn't have taken a mind reader to guess that, but he felt like putting it out there, nevertheless.

[hornrimmed.livejournal.com]

"At the moment, no," he said coolly. "If you want that opinion to change, you have to give me reason."

[heroslayer]

He shrugged, coolly. "Just as long as you know that the feeling's mutual." Bennet had done more than one terrible thing to him, and if Bennet thought he was simply going to trust him in the face of all of that, he was sadly mistaken.

[hornrimmed.livejournal.com]

He smiled slightly. "I don't give a damn what you think of me." He finished off his coffee and set the cup on the table.

[heroslayer]

"I'll keep that in mind," he replied, shooting Bennet a grin over the top of his cup before draining the last of it.

[hornrimmed.livejournal.com]

He chuckled softly. "You do that." He leaned back in his chair. "How is Claire doing?" he asked quietly.

[heroslayer]

Sylar sobered slowly, raised his eyebrows and then lowered them in rapid succession as he considered this.

"She's been having nightmares." Not that any of the four of them that would live forever really needed that much sleep, but still. It was disruptive, when she did try and get some rest, and the nightmares were clearly upsetting her. "I've been trying to help her."

[hornrimmed.livejournal.com]

"Shit." He closed his eyes. It wasn't surprising, considering all she'd been through, but he didn't like to hear it. And there was nothing he could do, which was galling.

[heroslayer]

He made a soft noise, agreeing, and looked away, finding something more interesting on the table to stare at. "I got her to sleep, the other night. No nightmares."

[hornrimmed.livejournal.com]

His eyes opened, and he stared at Sylar for a long moment, his face blank. "Thank you," he said then.

[heroslayer]

"You're welcome." That was two favors Bennet owed him, now, if and when he chose to collect.

As nice as it was to have something over the other man, however, he put it out of mind for the time being, shrugging. "It's--she's not as bad as she was, when we first got her back. She's getting better." Or such was his opinion, based on what Claire had told him and how she seemed in general.