heroslayer | for inthe_kitchen: eggo waffles (Reply)

On some level, he knew that he really didn't need to break into Angela's house. He could have rung the doorbell like a sane person and waited for her to answer, or assuming that she was out for the day, sat down on the front steps and waited for her to return. It wasn't as though he had anything better to do today, after all, and he could be a very patient man when the mood struck him, but somehow not waiting and just letting himself in seemed the right thing to do. Call it revenge for her breaking into his apartment the last time they'd met one-on-one.

Shutting the door behind him quietly as he entered, he ignored the living room completely, heading for the kitchen. She wasn't home--he could hear that much--and raiding his mother's refrigerator seemed much less offensive than figuring out where she kept her television and playing couch commando. Which, perhaps, explained why when Angela returned home less than fifteen minutes later, she found one of her three sons leaning against the counter, a plate of Eggo waffles she'd bought for Nathan's boys an age ago in his hands.

She didn't even bother trying to muster fear; she just looked tired.

"Gabriel."

"These are stale," he pointed out, jabbing his fork into the plate of waffles, viciously. Not that that was particularly important, but honestly, he wasn't quite sure what to say. How to start. He couldn't say he was good at pleasant small talk, and they both knew it. "Or freezer burnt. I'm not sure which."

"Nor am I, honestly, but they've been in my freezer for almost three years now." She hadn't had the heart to let the staff throw them away, after Heidi had gotten custody of he grandchildren. Angela didn't bother commenting on this, even if she'd thought it loud enough that any telepath in a fifty mile radius could have picked up on it, instead nodding down the hall. She moved down it without further comment, and he set his plate down on the edge of the sink, to follow after her, figuring he could come back for it later. "I doubt you came all this way just to chastise me for a box of ancient waffles, though."

He shook his head. "I didn't."

She stopped in the sitting room, turning to face him, her lips pressed into a thin line, bleeding resignation. He couldn't help but feel almost sorry for her, and he cast a glance at the door, wondering if he should go. Maybe this was too much, too soon after the revelations of the other night. Maybe--

"What, then?"

--maybe not, judging by how she'd cut into his thoughts. He offered her a wan smile. "After the other night, I thought we should talk."

"From what I understand, you've never been one for bush-beating, Gabriel," she replied, settling down in one of the arm chairs by the door so that she could look up at him, still frowning. "I've had a very long day, and I'd like to ask that you don't start now. I'm not sure I could take the suspense."

Now it was his turn to look sour, though the expression was short-lived, shifting into something between hesitant and thoughtful. "I just--I wanted to tell you that I understand. What you did to me." Not abandoning him in the first place, but what had happened after Kirby Plaza, when the Company had whisked him away and stripped him of his abilities, however temporarily. And somehow, that much was clear--he could tell that Angela understood, even without him clarifying. "After what Arthur did to you, you had to do something. You saw me becoming him, and I was so close. I guess the apple really doesn't fall too far from the tree."

She was silent for a long time, folding her legs under her on the chair, studying him, and then finally, she was shaking her head. "Maybe at the time, I thought that's what I was doing--it's as convenient an excuse as any--but now, I'm not so sure."

"What do you mean?" He all but sunk into the door frame, head tilted to one side, studying her.

Again, however, she said nothing, and despite years of mental defenses--he was getting better at this whole telepathy thing--he could hear her trying to put her thoughts into some semblance of order. And while she never quite got there, emotions tugging her thought process around like a leaf on the wind, she tried to answer the question, anyway.

"If I really thought you were becoming Arthur, I could have left you to die on Kirby Plaza--you would have, if I hadn't talked Bob into it, you know. Hiro knew what he was doing with that sword of his, something I can only assume he learned from Kaito, and it would have been so easy. I turned a blind eye to what Peter was going through, when we realized he was the one that was going to destroy New York, and while he wouldn't have killed him, had it actually happened, well--you know Peter. You know it would have ruined him in ways far worse than death. And if I could have done that to my favorite son ... "

She shrugged, looking away, and while he gritted his teeth, Sylar made no comment, waiting for her to continue. It took her a moment, before, "But with you ... would you believe me if I said I didn't know? I gave you away at birth, Gabriel--I think I'm a bit too selfish to be able to say I was trying to reform you by stripping you of your abilities. Nor did I think you'd make the perfect Company weapon--I wasn't naive enough to think you'd sit still and place nice while we dangled carrot after carrot in front of you. And I certainly didn't dream any of this coming from that."

Finally, she was looking up at him, a wry smile touching her lips. "So, no, I didn't think you were becoming Arthur--you're more honest about what you do than he ever was--but I can't tell you why I did it, either. Maybe I should be telling you it had just seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe Bob had bigger plans for you, maybe that's why he agreed to it in the first place, but I never did."

Sylar studied her for a moment, both processing and trying to decide if she was lying, and then slowly, he nodded. And after a moment of hesitation, he murmured, "Well, whatever you're motives, I forgive you."

Angela stared at him, nothing short of stunned. "I beg your pardon?"

"I forgive you," he repeated calmly, and then he was pushing away from the door frame, so that he could head back down the hallway. Understandably, she got to her feet hurriedly, following after him.

"If you forgive me," she called, "then were are you going?"

He flashed her a small smile over his shoulder. "Your waffles suck. If plan on dropping by again, you're going to need new ones."

Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 1193
Note: Angela is