Sunday: Understanding
Aug. 1st, 2009 02:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spongetasticI pressed my lips against his ear and whispered again, It's not your fault. Perhaps this was really the only thing I had ever wanted to say to anyone in the world. -Miranda July
He sat with his arms hugging his legs tight to his chest, his eyes staring blankly down at his feet. He found himself in this position once before, and it seemed like not much had changed since then. Only this time no one came to give him an unwanted haircut. In fact, he was left mostly alone. "Mostly" being the operative word, as he did have one frequent visitor. It was for this person that he waited, though he would never admit to it out loud.
The door slid open and Sylar's head rose up in time to catch Peter Petrelli's entrance. The first time Peter came it was to be sure the serial killer had truly been captured. It came as a surprise to Sylar when those visits continued and evolved into conversations. Now Peter came every day. However hard he listened to Peter's sound, Sylar couldn't understand why the empath did this. He honestly began to wonder if even slicing Peter's head open would offer him any answers.
"Peter," he said by way of greeting.
"Hi," the other man returned. A silence fell; Sylar waited. "Can I ask you something?" Peter wondered.
"Go ahead," Sylar nodded.
"Why did you kill? The first time, I mean." That wasn't what Sylar expected. But he couldn't think of a reason not to answer Peter's question honestly.
"All I wanted was to be special," Sylar began slowly. "Someone important... significant. I met Chandra Suresh and he told me I might have a special abilitiy. I was so excited. I thought I finally found what I'd been waiting for my whole life. But then he gave up on me. He rejected me." He sighed heavily, running his hand over his face.
"There was a man," he continued after a while. "Brian Davis. He had telekinesis, but he didn't want the ability. I killed him so I could have his ability and be special."
Peter listened to Sylar's words without interruption. The first time they officially met Sylar said they were alike. Peter didn't want to believe it then, but hearing the serial killer's story made him see a different side of Sylar. Peter understood what it was like wanting to be special. If he faced abandonment and rejection after the hope for greatness, what would he have done?
He moved to the door separating Sylar from the rest of the world. He typed in the code and the door unlocked. Sylar's eyebrows twitched, his lips pulling into a puzzled frown. Peter entered his cell, letting the door slide shut behind him. With Peter's presence came the ticking. It hummed in Sylar's head, clawing for the secrets the empath's mind held.
"What are you doing?" Sylar demanded.
"I understand now," Peter said. He took a seat next to the killer. "I never stopped to think that you were anything but a monster. I'm sorry." Sylar was struck speechless. His words froze even more when Peter leaned closer to put an arm around the taller man's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault," Peter whispered in Sylar's ear. "Was it? Not at first."
"No," Sylar responded. "It was... the hunger." A hunger that was gnawing away inside him. He closed his eyes, but that didn't block out the noise Peter's ability made in Sylar's head. "Peter... you should go," he said in a heavy voice.
"What's wrong?" Peter asked. He sounded almost worried.
"The hunger," Sylar breathed out tightly. "I can't control it. You need to leave."
"Okay." Peter rose to his feet, heading to the door. He stopped, turning back to Sylar. "I'll be back soon, I promise." He smiled and walked out the door. Sylar kept his eyes on the empath until he was out of sight. Then he was alone again, but he had the assurance it wouldn't be for long.
He sat with his arms hugging his legs tight to his chest, his eyes staring blankly down at his feet. He found himself in this position once before, and it seemed like not much had changed since then. Only this time no one came to give him an unwanted haircut. In fact, he was left mostly alone. "Mostly" being the operative word, as he did have one frequent visitor. It was for this person that he waited, though he would never admit to it out loud.
The door slid open and Sylar's head rose up in time to catch Peter Petrelli's entrance. The first time Peter came it was to be sure the serial killer had truly been captured. It came as a surprise to Sylar when those visits continued and evolved into conversations. Now Peter came every day. However hard he listened to Peter's sound, Sylar couldn't understand why the empath did this. He honestly began to wonder if even slicing Peter's head open would offer him any answers.
"Peter," he said by way of greeting.
"Hi," the other man returned. A silence fell; Sylar waited. "Can I ask you something?" Peter wondered.
"Go ahead," Sylar nodded.
"Why did you kill? The first time, I mean." That wasn't what Sylar expected. But he couldn't think of a reason not to answer Peter's question honestly.
"All I wanted was to be special," Sylar began slowly. "Someone important... significant. I met Chandra Suresh and he told me I might have a special abilitiy. I was so excited. I thought I finally found what I'd been waiting for my whole life. But then he gave up on me. He rejected me." He sighed heavily, running his hand over his face.
"There was a man," he continued after a while. "Brian Davis. He had telekinesis, but he didn't want the ability. I killed him so I could have his ability and be special."
Peter listened to Sylar's words without interruption. The first time they officially met Sylar said they were alike. Peter didn't want to believe it then, but hearing the serial killer's story made him see a different side of Sylar. Peter understood what it was like wanting to be special. If he faced abandonment and rejection after the hope for greatness, what would he have done?
He moved to the door separating Sylar from the rest of the world. He typed in the code and the door unlocked. Sylar's eyebrows twitched, his lips pulling into a puzzled frown. Peter entered his cell, letting the door slide shut behind him. With Peter's presence came the ticking. It hummed in Sylar's head, clawing for the secrets the empath's mind held.
"What are you doing?" Sylar demanded.
"I understand now," Peter said. He took a seat next to the killer. "I never stopped to think that you were anything but a monster. I'm sorry." Sylar was struck speechless. His words froze even more when Peter leaned closer to put an arm around the taller man's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault," Peter whispered in Sylar's ear. "Was it? Not at first."
"No," Sylar responded. "It was... the hunger." A hunger that was gnawing away inside him. He closed his eyes, but that didn't block out the noise Peter's ability made in Sylar's head. "Peter... you should go," he said in a heavy voice.
"What's wrong?" Peter asked. He sounded almost worried.
"The hunger," Sylar breathed out tightly. "I can't control it. You need to leave."
"Okay." Peter rose to his feet, heading to the door. He stopped, turning back to Sylar. "I'll be back soon, I promise." He smiled and walked out the door. Sylar kept his eyes on the empath until he was out of sight. Then he was alone again, but he had the assurance it wouldn't be for long.