Fic- Whatever it takes 20
Title- Whatever it takes 20
Author- Faythbrady
Ship/Series- Heroes. Sylar/Claire
Rating- YA
Disclaimer- I do not own heroes, only villains :D
Summary- Sylar has some things to take care of, can he do it without losing his temper?
Chapter 20
Sam leaned against the kitchen unit clutching a cold cloth to his still burning face.
Sylar ungagged Luke and stood over him glowering.
“What the hell?” Luke spat. “Untie me, Sylar.”
Sylar whipped his hand out and Luke rocked back on his chair, his head slamming against the fridge that had tried to eat him only moments ago.
“I don't take orders from you,” Sylar growled. “Remember who you're talking to.”
Sylar's eyes were dark and reminded Luke that it was only yesterday he had tried to hurt Sylar's friend's niece. The same niece who he was with now. He frowned slightly at his brain tried to put two and two together.
Early morning plus man and woman together plus protective stance meant that he'd probably tried to incinerate Sylar's girlfriend.
Now would be a very good time to back up.
And possibly make a will.
Luke swallowed and nodded quickly. “Sorry.”
Sylar held the kitchen towel in his hands and turned to Sam. “What happened here?”
“I... uh...” Sam shifted uncomfortably on his seat. “Uh, is this one of those 'squeal and you lose all respect for me' situations? I'm not very good at reading this kind of stuff.”
Claire smiled making Sam flush brightly. “No. Tell us what happened here. We won't judge you.”
“Well, okay. I was in my room playing with my minions when Luke interrupted my epic battle.”
There was a beat as Claire digested this. “Okay, when I said I wouldn't judge...”
“Claire,” Sylar grinned, “carry on, Sam.”
“That's just it,” Sam whined, “I was minding my own, duking with the Warlord when El Psycho came in and started talking about going Nuclear on my collectables and I ate beans for month to afford ComicCon. I didn't even Cosplay because authenticity costs. And then Luke threatens, like, the world. He goes all Meltman and boils the tiles. I just... reacted.”
Claire leaned towards Sylar. “Was any of that in English?”
Sylar nodded. “Luke?”
“Not what happened,” Luke said casually. “I tried to talk to nerdlet about his collection of dolls and he totally went off the deep end and I nearly got eaten by a DustVac.”
“DustVac?” Sylar raised an eyebrow.
Sam pointed to a red melted pile of goo in one corner. “Alas poor Vac, vanquished in his greatest hour.”
Claire eyed Sam dubiously. “Which one are we saving again?”
“Apparently Sam the-” Sylar gave a pained sigh, “-Dungeon Master, can more than take care of himself.”
Sam beamed proudly.
“He's a freak,” Luke spat, only to freeze in pure terror as Sylar turned to face him, his eyes blazing.
“What have I said about that word, Luke?”
Luke shivered. “Yeah. You didn't tell me that you were rooming me with a... I don't even know what the term is for what he is.”
“Special,” Claire folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. “Of course not in the same way you are.”
Luke leered at her. “Hey baby, I'm one of a kind.”
“If you mean an endangered species then you're quite accurate,” Sylar's voice was cold and Luke trembled. “I told you, Luke, you do things my way. In what possible way is this my way?”
Luke frowned. “Uh, the killing people thing was kinda your hallmark.”
Sylar opened his mouth.
And closed it.
Damn.
Claire sucked in a breath. “He has a point.”
Sam frowned at them. “You killed people?”
Sylar scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I guess you could say I'm... redeeming myself?”
“Like Wolverine?” Sam's eyes lit up. “Forced to kill throughout the centuries but wanting only to be on the side of light?”
“In a way,” Sylar hedged.
“More like Angelus,” Claire offered, “evil, scary and happy to kill and then he gets sent to hell and is freed and becomes one of the good guys. But there's that underlying sense of menace.”
His lips curved up in private amusement as she beamed at him. That was actually a pretty good analogy. An annoying blonde bitch made him into a bad guy. He was forced to kill to control a very real hunger and those five years trapped inside his head were a form of hell. It was all very Angelus and it made him what he was today.
Claire would know better than most exactly how close the monster lay to the surface.
“Pfft,” Luke snorted, “so big bad Sylar got laid and gained his soul?”
Sylar snapped and took one step forwards, reaching for Luke's collar.
He was beaten by Sam, however, whose Kettle monster squeezed tightly, cutting the air off to Luke's windpipe.
“That is disgusting!” Sam said, his voice pitching as his temper flared. “God, you can be so juvenile.”
Luke gagged and slammed his feet against the floor.
“Hey!” Claire laid her hand on Sam's arm. “If you kill him, I won't be able to slap him and I really, really want to hit him.”
Sam nodded and the cord loosened. “Sorry, ma'am.”
“Not ma'am. I'm Claire.”
Sam's eyes widened. “Claire as in 'Claire Bennet' Claire?”
The way he said it had Claire turning to him, giving him her most curious look. “Yeah?”
Sam clapped his hands together and stood, his lanky frame all but towering over her, as he regressed to a screaming fanboy.
“Oh my god, seriously, Claire Bennet. Wow. I am such a huge fan of yours. I've read everything the Company and the Academy has on you and your ability and what you've done. Everyone talks about you, you're a legend. The cheerleader who can't die. You saved the Special's from Danko and you crashed a plane and, oh my god, you're famous.”
“The Academy?” Claire questioned, not sure she liked so much of her life open for public view.
“They call the Special's program I designed 'The Academy',” Sylar offered, bewildered at this turn of events.
“Oh, you're in the program?”
“Figures,” Luke scoffed.
Sylar slapped him upsides the head. “I'm not done with you.”
Sam wrung his hands. “Can I have your autograph, please?”
She gave him a weak smile. “Sure. But can we deal with the raging sociopath in the corner first?”
“Is she talking about you or me?” Luke muttered. Sylar's lips twitched slightly.
Sam suddenly seemed to remember that there were other people in the room and nodded in mortification. “Right, sure. Killers first, autograph later.”
Sylar couldn't help but feel sympathy for the boy. He was overwhelmed by Claire and he'd been there for all of her adventures- okay, he'd instigated many of her adventures. Possibly not the best time to remind her of that fact. But he could see where the attraction lay.
Claire was hot, strong and more than a little amazing. No wonder she had boys falling at her feet.
Boys who didn't have a trigger temper and a body count.
The thought made him frown a little and he noted Luke's reaction. Good.
“What were you thinking, Luke?” he asked softly. “I told you that we were making a change, that we could be accepted. Why would you try to screw that up?”
Luke swallowed and lifted his chin defiantly. “It's just who I am.”
But there was vulnerability in Luke's expression and as Sylar watched him carefully he could see cracks in the tough-guy veneer that Luke held so tight around himself. His intuitive ability strained at him to prod and poke and understand Luke and, the longer he stared, the more it came into play.
He squatted on his heels in front of the boy and traced a finger across the boy's forehead in a parody of his old methods.
He could hear Claire's heart pounding behind him and Luke's thudding away in front.
“Sylar?”
“Shh,” he whispered, not breaking the spell. “I'm concentrating.”
He cocked his head, and suddenly there it was.
Luke was afraid. He was afraid of trying and failing. He was scared that he wasn't good enough to be changed, of being himself only to disappoint, and so he set out deliberately to sabotage his chances. That way he would fall but on his terms.
Even now the kid had abandonment issues, so used to being thought of a failure by everyone from his mother to his surrogate father, Samson, and his mentor, Sylar. All he wanted was to fit in and be liked but he was aware that no one had ever really liked him and it wasn't going to change.
'Be yourself' was probably the worst advice anyone had ever given him.
“I see,” Sylar said softly. Luke tried to move but his bindings held him down.
“You see nothing,” he spat stubbornly, fear making him stupid. “You've gone soft all over some stupid bitch who wouldn't accept you for what you were. Yeah, I can see you love her, carry her picture in your wallet and all that sappy shit. It's ruined you. Just because you want in her pants doesn't mean that I-”
Sylar cut him off with a quick wave of his hand. “You want me to give up on you, like everyone else has. You want to believe that it's everyone else's fault and not yours. That people just suck because they don't give you a chance or they turn their backs too quickly. I'm not like that, Luke.”
“Yeah?” Luke's eyes brightened with tears that he was too proud to shed. “Then why did you leave me in podunk nowheresville, huh? You dumped me like I was a bad smell.”
“But I didn't kill you,” Sylar pointed out, “that was a big deal for me back then.”
“I looked up to you, man,” Luke yelled suddenly, “you were my-”
“Brother?” Sylar took a deep breath. “I thought so too.”
Wrong-footed, Luke just stared at him. “What?”
“Think about it; you could live your whole life without meeting anyone else with a power yet on our street there were two of us. And your mother was close enough to my father to allow him to play with you, take you out and try to hide his whereabouts from me. Why would she do that? It certainly wasn't to protect him. But maybe his son?”
“Luke, He is your father.”
Everyone turned to look at Sam who shrugged sheepishly. “Oh come on, someone had to say it. It was perfect.”
Sam's ill timed humor made even Luke smile slightly. “I always wondered, but mom hated him. Like really hated him.”
“And yet she didn't forbid you from seeing him.” Sylar leaned back. “Either way, related or not, Luke, we have a lot in common. I didn't kill you and I'm not leaving you now.”
“Sure.” The disbelief was palpable.
Sylar rubbed the back of his neck. “Luke. I want to help you. Not because it's my job or because I'm one of the good guys now. But because you could be my brother. We could be family. I know I had a hand in what you are now and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry I made you kill that guard and I'm sorry for all the sleepless nights you've had over it. I'm sorry for the choices that you made as a result. But Luke, your life is your own. Not mine. You can't keep blaming everyone else for your mistakes. Sooner or later you have to man up and take it. I'm giving you the chance to do just that; to be able to look at yourself in the mirror everyday and not hate yourself. Do you want that, Luke?”
The boy just turned his head away, his jaw tight.
“Untie him,” Sylar asked Sam.
“Are you sure, he's still kind of trigger happy?” Sam asked dubiously but did as Sylar asked him. The kettle returned to it's former glory and the trash can stopped biting his feet.
Luke rubbed at his wrists, scowling at the cord marks wrapped around his tender flesh.
Sylar stood and clasped his hand to Luke's shoulder in a comforting manner. “I was too quick to leave yesterday. I put you here without explaining why and you reacted. That's as much my fault as yours. We need to talk and, I guess, now is as good a time as any.” He looked up at Claire.
“I'm going to spend the day with Luke. Do you want us to walk you back to your apartment or call a cab?”
Claire shook her head. “No, you guys go ahead, I'll catch you later.” She patted Sam on the back and walked towards the two possible brothers.
She paused in front of Luke.
“I knew a guy like you once. He thought that everyone was out to get him, always. He was angry and bitter and hated everyone. He spent his life trying to destroy everyone and to make them as unhappy as he was.”
“What happened to him?” Luke said quietly.
She softened slightly. “He's one of my best friends.”
She smiled at Sylar, squeezing his hand once before leaving. Sylar watched her go, his heart in his mouth.
Luke sighed. “You know, she's actually kinda cool. I'm sorry for trying to burn her.”
Sylar's laugh was short and matched the lop-sided smile on his face. “Well, that's a start.” He frowned. “Hold that thought. Wait, Claire!”
He hurried after her leaving Luke and Sam alone together. Sam peered at him curiously.
“You tried to burn Claire Bennet?” Sam shook his head in disbelief. “And you're still breathing?”
Luke shrugged. “Big deal.”
“Ah,” Sam nodded as if everything suddenly made sense to him. “You've not met her dad.”
“No.”
“Word of advice, when you do, and, you will,” Sam grinned, “don't mention you tried to incinerate his daughter.”
“Pfft,” Luke scoffed, “If I survived Sylar-”
“Noah Bennet has an itchy trigger finger like Sylar,” Sam said, “except in Mr. Bennet's case his is attached to a gun... and a temper. And possible prejudicial psychosis. And the government. He's of the 'shoot first, shoot second and if there are any survivors shoot them before asking questions' school.”
“N.R.A?”
“P.T.A.”
Luke laughed and Sam grinned.
“So I guess you want me to move out then, huh?”
Sam shifted slightly uncomfortably. “Well, I did. I mean you threatened my collection and then tried to burn me. You're not going to be on the cover of Sanity Fare anytime soon.”
Luke swallowed and looked away.
“But I guess I didn't exactly make you welcome. We could give this roommate thing another shot. If you want?”
Luke glanced up at him quickly before nodding. “Saves me breaking in someone else, I guess.”
Sam took that as thanks.
“Besides your power is kinda cool. That Lava spewing can thing? Awesome.”
>>
Claire heard Sylar call her name and turned on the doorstep. She allowed her welcoming smile to widen.
“Is it safe to leave the two of them alone?”
He brushed his hand through his hair before looking worriedly over one shoulder.
“I'll go back and check, I just wanted to see if we're still okay?” He worried his lower lip. “I wasn't trying to scare Luke and I heard your heart beat faster. I just wanted-”
“Shh,” Claire touched her finger to his lips stopping him mid-sentence. “I am so proud of you, Sylar.”
He blinked. “What?”
Claire's eyes shone. “You wanted to hit him, to smack him around and instead you totally got down to his level, you looked inside him and...” she took a breath, “it was pretty amazing. You're pretty amazing.”
He felt his cheeks redden and his heart fairly ached. There was a sensation of pride mixed with the longing that was his usual response to Claire and a slight hope that maybe just maybe he'd be worthy of her.
He tucked his hands in his pockets. “Uh, is everything okay for tomorrow?”
It took Claire an embarrassing moment to remember what tomorrow was. “Ah the bachelorette slash bachelor party. Sure. All set, tickets bought, Emma in the dark. You're end?”
Sylar nodded. “Peter thinks I'm taking him to some yoga retreat.”
She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Really? Yoga?”
Sylar shoved his hands into his pockets with an chagrined expression. “His idea.”
She wasn't convinced. “Uh huh.”
“So, uh. I guess I'll see you tomorrow night?” He brought his hand up to his mouth and chewed on a thumb nail, his eyes avoiding hers as he scuffed at the floor.
Claire fought back a grin at his boyish charm. Really, he could be so adorable, especially when he was uncertain about something. That sparked a memory of something that she wanted to know.
“Can you pass me your wallet?”
Sylar blinked in confusion but had his hand in his pocket before he could think of any reason why she'd need it.
“Did you leave yours at the apartment?”
“No.” Claire flipped open the black leather and stilled.
It took him a second but suddenly he realized why she'd asked for it and his stomach turned.
“Yeah, I can see you love her, carry her picture in your wallet and all that sappy shit.
She held up the photograph of herself and stared at him. “You have a picture of me in your wallet?”
He nodded carefully.
“Why?”
His brain ran through a hundred responses. Some that would get him slapped, others that would have her screaming or mocking him.
Instead he chose a version of the truth.
“Because you won't fit in my pocket, no mater how short you are.”
She couldn't help the giggle that erupted and some of the tension left him.
She handed him the wallet back. “Okay.”
He furrowed his brow in surprise. She was just letting this go? That was... completely unlike Claire.
He took the proffered wallet and tucked it back in his pocket. “Okay.”
She beamed cheekily at him, waggled her fingers and all but danced off the porch.
“See you tomorrow.”
Sylar shook his head in bemusement as she walked away. Just when he thought that he had her figured out she went and completely surprised him.
Eternity was going to be so much fun.
Author- Faythbrady
Ship/Series- Heroes. Sylar/Claire
Rating- YA
Disclaimer- I do not own heroes, only villains :D
Summary- Sylar has some things to take care of, can he do it without losing his temper?
Chapter 20
Sam leaned against the kitchen unit clutching a cold cloth to his still burning face.
Sylar ungagged Luke and stood over him glowering.
“What the hell?” Luke spat. “Untie me, Sylar.”
Sylar whipped his hand out and Luke rocked back on his chair, his head slamming against the fridge that had tried to eat him only moments ago.
“I don't take orders from you,” Sylar growled. “Remember who you're talking to.”
Sylar's eyes were dark and reminded Luke that it was only yesterday he had tried to hurt Sylar's friend's niece. The same niece who he was with now. He frowned slightly at his brain tried to put two and two together.
Early morning plus man and woman together plus protective stance meant that he'd probably tried to incinerate Sylar's girlfriend.
Now would be a very good time to back up.
And possibly make a will.
Luke swallowed and nodded quickly. “Sorry.”
Sylar held the kitchen towel in his hands and turned to Sam. “What happened here?”
“I... uh...” Sam shifted uncomfortably on his seat. “Uh, is this one of those 'squeal and you lose all respect for me' situations? I'm not very good at reading this kind of stuff.”
Claire smiled making Sam flush brightly. “No. Tell us what happened here. We won't judge you.”
“Well, okay. I was in my room playing with my minions when Luke interrupted my epic battle.”
There was a beat as Claire digested this. “Okay, when I said I wouldn't judge...”
“Claire,” Sylar grinned, “carry on, Sam.”
“That's just it,” Sam whined, “I was minding my own, duking with the Warlord when El Psycho came in and started talking about going Nuclear on my collectables and I ate beans for month to afford ComicCon. I didn't even Cosplay because authenticity costs. And then Luke threatens, like, the world. He goes all Meltman and boils the tiles. I just... reacted.”
Claire leaned towards Sylar. “Was any of that in English?”
Sylar nodded. “Luke?”
“Not what happened,” Luke said casually. “I tried to talk to nerdlet about his collection of dolls and he totally went off the deep end and I nearly got eaten by a DustVac.”
“DustVac?” Sylar raised an eyebrow.
Sam pointed to a red melted pile of goo in one corner. “Alas poor Vac, vanquished in his greatest hour.”
Claire eyed Sam dubiously. “Which one are we saving again?”
“Apparently Sam the-” Sylar gave a pained sigh, “-Dungeon Master, can more than take care of himself.”
Sam beamed proudly.
“He's a freak,” Luke spat, only to freeze in pure terror as Sylar turned to face him, his eyes blazing.
“What have I said about that word, Luke?”
Luke shivered. “Yeah. You didn't tell me that you were rooming me with a... I don't even know what the term is for what he is.”
“Special,” Claire folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. “Of course not in the same way you are.”
Luke leered at her. “Hey baby, I'm one of a kind.”
“If you mean an endangered species then you're quite accurate,” Sylar's voice was cold and Luke trembled. “I told you, Luke, you do things my way. In what possible way is this my way?”
Luke frowned. “Uh, the killing people thing was kinda your hallmark.”
Sylar opened his mouth.
And closed it.
Damn.
Claire sucked in a breath. “He has a point.”
Sam frowned at them. “You killed people?”
Sylar scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I guess you could say I'm... redeeming myself?”
“Like Wolverine?” Sam's eyes lit up. “Forced to kill throughout the centuries but wanting only to be on the side of light?”
“In a way,” Sylar hedged.
“More like Angelus,” Claire offered, “evil, scary and happy to kill and then he gets sent to hell and is freed and becomes one of the good guys. But there's that underlying sense of menace.”
His lips curved up in private amusement as she beamed at him. That was actually a pretty good analogy. An annoying blonde bitch made him into a bad guy. He was forced to kill to control a very real hunger and those five years trapped inside his head were a form of hell. It was all very Angelus and it made him what he was today.
Claire would know better than most exactly how close the monster lay to the surface.
“Pfft,” Luke snorted, “so big bad Sylar got laid and gained his soul?”
Sylar snapped and took one step forwards, reaching for Luke's collar.
He was beaten by Sam, however, whose Kettle monster squeezed tightly, cutting the air off to Luke's windpipe.
“That is disgusting!” Sam said, his voice pitching as his temper flared. “God, you can be so juvenile.”
Luke gagged and slammed his feet against the floor.
“Hey!” Claire laid her hand on Sam's arm. “If you kill him, I won't be able to slap him and I really, really want to hit him.”
Sam nodded and the cord loosened. “Sorry, ma'am.”
“Not ma'am. I'm Claire.”
Sam's eyes widened. “Claire as in 'Claire Bennet' Claire?”
The way he said it had Claire turning to him, giving him her most curious look. “Yeah?”
Sam clapped his hands together and stood, his lanky frame all but towering over her, as he regressed to a screaming fanboy.
“Oh my god, seriously, Claire Bennet. Wow. I am such a huge fan of yours. I've read everything the Company and the Academy has on you and your ability and what you've done. Everyone talks about you, you're a legend. The cheerleader who can't die. You saved the Special's from Danko and you crashed a plane and, oh my god, you're famous.”
“The Academy?” Claire questioned, not sure she liked so much of her life open for public view.
“They call the Special's program I designed 'The Academy',” Sylar offered, bewildered at this turn of events.
“Oh, you're in the program?”
“Figures,” Luke scoffed.
Sylar slapped him upsides the head. “I'm not done with you.”
Sam wrung his hands. “Can I have your autograph, please?”
She gave him a weak smile. “Sure. But can we deal with the raging sociopath in the corner first?”
“Is she talking about you or me?” Luke muttered. Sylar's lips twitched slightly.
Sam suddenly seemed to remember that there were other people in the room and nodded in mortification. “Right, sure. Killers first, autograph later.”
Sylar couldn't help but feel sympathy for the boy. He was overwhelmed by Claire and he'd been there for all of her adventures- okay, he'd instigated many of her adventures. Possibly not the best time to remind her of that fact. But he could see where the attraction lay.
Claire was hot, strong and more than a little amazing. No wonder she had boys falling at her feet.
Boys who didn't have a trigger temper and a body count.
The thought made him frown a little and he noted Luke's reaction. Good.
“What were you thinking, Luke?” he asked softly. “I told you that we were making a change, that we could be accepted. Why would you try to screw that up?”
Luke swallowed and lifted his chin defiantly. “It's just who I am.”
But there was vulnerability in Luke's expression and as Sylar watched him carefully he could see cracks in the tough-guy veneer that Luke held so tight around himself. His intuitive ability strained at him to prod and poke and understand Luke and, the longer he stared, the more it came into play.
He squatted on his heels in front of the boy and traced a finger across the boy's forehead in a parody of his old methods.
He could hear Claire's heart pounding behind him and Luke's thudding away in front.
“Sylar?”
“Shh,” he whispered, not breaking the spell. “I'm concentrating.”
He cocked his head, and suddenly there it was.
Luke was afraid. He was afraid of trying and failing. He was scared that he wasn't good enough to be changed, of being himself only to disappoint, and so he set out deliberately to sabotage his chances. That way he would fall but on his terms.
Even now the kid had abandonment issues, so used to being thought of a failure by everyone from his mother to his surrogate father, Samson, and his mentor, Sylar. All he wanted was to fit in and be liked but he was aware that no one had ever really liked him and it wasn't going to change.
'Be yourself' was probably the worst advice anyone had ever given him.
“I see,” Sylar said softly. Luke tried to move but his bindings held him down.
“You see nothing,” he spat stubbornly, fear making him stupid. “You've gone soft all over some stupid bitch who wouldn't accept you for what you were. Yeah, I can see you love her, carry her picture in your wallet and all that sappy shit. It's ruined you. Just because you want in her pants doesn't mean that I-”
Sylar cut him off with a quick wave of his hand. “You want me to give up on you, like everyone else has. You want to believe that it's everyone else's fault and not yours. That people just suck because they don't give you a chance or they turn their backs too quickly. I'm not like that, Luke.”
“Yeah?” Luke's eyes brightened with tears that he was too proud to shed. “Then why did you leave me in podunk nowheresville, huh? You dumped me like I was a bad smell.”
“But I didn't kill you,” Sylar pointed out, “that was a big deal for me back then.”
“I looked up to you, man,” Luke yelled suddenly, “you were my-”
“Brother?” Sylar took a deep breath. “I thought so too.”
Wrong-footed, Luke just stared at him. “What?”
“Think about it; you could live your whole life without meeting anyone else with a power yet on our street there were two of us. And your mother was close enough to my father to allow him to play with you, take you out and try to hide his whereabouts from me. Why would she do that? It certainly wasn't to protect him. But maybe his son?”
“Luke, He is your father.”
Everyone turned to look at Sam who shrugged sheepishly. “Oh come on, someone had to say it. It was perfect.”
Sam's ill timed humor made even Luke smile slightly. “I always wondered, but mom hated him. Like really hated him.”
“And yet she didn't forbid you from seeing him.” Sylar leaned back. “Either way, related or not, Luke, we have a lot in common. I didn't kill you and I'm not leaving you now.”
“Sure.” The disbelief was palpable.
Sylar rubbed the back of his neck. “Luke. I want to help you. Not because it's my job or because I'm one of the good guys now. But because you could be my brother. We could be family. I know I had a hand in what you are now and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry I made you kill that guard and I'm sorry for all the sleepless nights you've had over it. I'm sorry for the choices that you made as a result. But Luke, your life is your own. Not mine. You can't keep blaming everyone else for your mistakes. Sooner or later you have to man up and take it. I'm giving you the chance to do just that; to be able to look at yourself in the mirror everyday and not hate yourself. Do you want that, Luke?”
The boy just turned his head away, his jaw tight.
“Untie him,” Sylar asked Sam.
“Are you sure, he's still kind of trigger happy?” Sam asked dubiously but did as Sylar asked him. The kettle returned to it's former glory and the trash can stopped biting his feet.
Luke rubbed at his wrists, scowling at the cord marks wrapped around his tender flesh.
Sylar stood and clasped his hand to Luke's shoulder in a comforting manner. “I was too quick to leave yesterday. I put you here without explaining why and you reacted. That's as much my fault as yours. We need to talk and, I guess, now is as good a time as any.” He looked up at Claire.
“I'm going to spend the day with Luke. Do you want us to walk you back to your apartment or call a cab?”
Claire shook her head. “No, you guys go ahead, I'll catch you later.” She patted Sam on the back and walked towards the two possible brothers.
She paused in front of Luke.
“I knew a guy like you once. He thought that everyone was out to get him, always. He was angry and bitter and hated everyone. He spent his life trying to destroy everyone and to make them as unhappy as he was.”
“What happened to him?” Luke said quietly.
She softened slightly. “He's one of my best friends.”
She smiled at Sylar, squeezing his hand once before leaving. Sylar watched her go, his heart in his mouth.
Luke sighed. “You know, she's actually kinda cool. I'm sorry for trying to burn her.”
Sylar's laugh was short and matched the lop-sided smile on his face. “Well, that's a start.” He frowned. “Hold that thought. Wait, Claire!”
He hurried after her leaving Luke and Sam alone together. Sam peered at him curiously.
“You tried to burn Claire Bennet?” Sam shook his head in disbelief. “And you're still breathing?”
Luke shrugged. “Big deal.”
“Ah,” Sam nodded as if everything suddenly made sense to him. “You've not met her dad.”
“No.”
“Word of advice, when you do, and, you will,” Sam grinned, “don't mention you tried to incinerate his daughter.”
“Pfft,” Luke scoffed, “If I survived Sylar-”
“Noah Bennet has an itchy trigger finger like Sylar,” Sam said, “except in Mr. Bennet's case his is attached to a gun... and a temper. And possible prejudicial psychosis. And the government. He's of the 'shoot first, shoot second and if there are any survivors shoot them before asking questions' school.”
“N.R.A?”
“P.T.A.”
Luke laughed and Sam grinned.
“So I guess you want me to move out then, huh?”
Sam shifted slightly uncomfortably. “Well, I did. I mean you threatened my collection and then tried to burn me. You're not going to be on the cover of Sanity Fare anytime soon.”
Luke swallowed and looked away.
“But I guess I didn't exactly make you welcome. We could give this roommate thing another shot. If you want?”
Luke glanced up at him quickly before nodding. “Saves me breaking in someone else, I guess.”
Sam took that as thanks.
“Besides your power is kinda cool. That Lava spewing can thing? Awesome.”
>>
Claire heard Sylar call her name and turned on the doorstep. She allowed her welcoming smile to widen.
“Is it safe to leave the two of them alone?”
He brushed his hand through his hair before looking worriedly over one shoulder.
“I'll go back and check, I just wanted to see if we're still okay?” He worried his lower lip. “I wasn't trying to scare Luke and I heard your heart beat faster. I just wanted-”
“Shh,” Claire touched her finger to his lips stopping him mid-sentence. “I am so proud of you, Sylar.”
He blinked. “What?”
Claire's eyes shone. “You wanted to hit him, to smack him around and instead you totally got down to his level, you looked inside him and...” she took a breath, “it was pretty amazing. You're pretty amazing.”
He felt his cheeks redden and his heart fairly ached. There was a sensation of pride mixed with the longing that was his usual response to Claire and a slight hope that maybe just maybe he'd be worthy of her.
He tucked his hands in his pockets. “Uh, is everything okay for tomorrow?”
It took Claire an embarrassing moment to remember what tomorrow was. “Ah the bachelorette slash bachelor party. Sure. All set, tickets bought, Emma in the dark. You're end?”
Sylar nodded. “Peter thinks I'm taking him to some yoga retreat.”
She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Really? Yoga?”
Sylar shoved his hands into his pockets with an chagrined expression. “His idea.”
She wasn't convinced. “Uh huh.”
“So, uh. I guess I'll see you tomorrow night?” He brought his hand up to his mouth and chewed on a thumb nail, his eyes avoiding hers as he scuffed at the floor.
Claire fought back a grin at his boyish charm. Really, he could be so adorable, especially when he was uncertain about something. That sparked a memory of something that she wanted to know.
“Can you pass me your wallet?”
Sylar blinked in confusion but had his hand in his pocket before he could think of any reason why she'd need it.
“Did you leave yours at the apartment?”
“No.” Claire flipped open the black leather and stilled.
It took him a second but suddenly he realized why she'd asked for it and his stomach turned.
“Yeah, I can see you love her, carry her picture in your wallet and all that sappy shit.
She held up the photograph of herself and stared at him. “You have a picture of me in your wallet?”
He nodded carefully.
“Why?”
His brain ran through a hundred responses. Some that would get him slapped, others that would have her screaming or mocking him.
Instead he chose a version of the truth.
“Because you won't fit in my pocket, no mater how short you are.”
She couldn't help the giggle that erupted and some of the tension left him.
She handed him the wallet back. “Okay.”
He furrowed his brow in surprise. She was just letting this go? That was... completely unlike Claire.
He took the proffered wallet and tucked it back in his pocket. “Okay.”
She beamed cheekily at him, waggled her fingers and all but danced off the porch.
“See you tomorrow.”
Sylar shook his head in bemusement as she walked away. Just when he thought that he had her figured out she went and completely surprised him.
Eternity was going to be so much fun.