WARNING: contains Season 3 Material.
Starring:
Summary: Peter goes to visit his prisoner to ask some questions and get a couple answers, and to extend an offer that he's given so many before… an offer to help. Even someone who's killed many and hurt his niece and tried to kill him.
Date It Happened: December 8th, 2007
An Offer Of Help
Bat Country
The door is securely locked. Time has ticked by for quietly for some time. Until the door ripples. A hand slips through the door, followed by a sleeve. A foot comes next as Peter steps all the way through. The door regains it's solidity as he finishes stepping through. His eyes seek out the man who had better still be in the room. And hopefully wasn't sitting against the door, or he got a very strange sensation of someone walking right through him.
Fortunately for Sylar, he's not in front of the door, but to the side. He's been waiting for some time, resting on his stool, and once a.. hand begins to come through the door, he straightens, silently sliding off of the stool. He waits for the rest of the body to come through, unsure of who it is, but it doesn't matter. All he has to do is wait for them to get all the way through.
Once Peter finally does make it through, Sylar springs into action, diving at the other man. It's most likely for nothing, as Sylar is still having trouble getting his powers to work, and he's no match against the younger Petrelli without his powers.
The attack might be expected, but Peter doesn't remain phased once he settles his feet on the floor. Which means he gets slammed rather heavily against the wall. There's a grunt at the impact, and he doesn't try to fight it further, allowing himself to be grappled or pinned, or even punched in the face. "I'm trying to help you Sylar," he says thickly, looking at him. "Isn't that what you wanted? Help?"
"By locking me up in some research facility, keeping me in a coma, then sending nurses in who take away my powers?" Sylar responds, grabbing Peter by the throat and picking him up against the wall, Sylar's face dangerously close. He increases pressure on the other man's throat, cutting off the pathway to Peter's lungs, before his grip loosens slightly, and he suddenly lets go. "Help," he says, repeating the word, before backing away from Peter. He moves to his stool, taking a seat, and he holds his arms out wide at Peter. "So be the hero."
Choking him makes it really difficult to answer his questions, or respond to the accusations. Peter doesn't try to force the other man away, not yet. He waits until the absolute last moment to fight back— and he doesn't have to. The wait was worth it. Gasping for breath, and coughing, he leans against the wall and closes his eyes, recovering. "I brought you here… because it's the only place I could think of to take you. I didn't have any other options." Kill him, let him go, or give him to the Company. They weren't options. "I need to ask you some questions."
The killer sits, watching Peter's every move. He's defenseless, but he doubts that Peter will attack him like this. So long as Sylar doesn't attack him first. Not that Sylar has much to attack him with, but once his abilities come back… he only hopes that they come back while Peter is still here. Then he'll have the surprise. He's not going to stay here to be some.. experiment for these people. "I'm waiting."
Staying against the wall, Peter doesn't get closer, nor does he sit down. He does straighten, so that he's standing at his full height— which is noticably shorter than this man who has made claims to being related to him. "What happened to you? How did you become this monster? I went back to the warehouse and got that paper work, the files. But they don't say everything."
At Sylar's words, there's a darkening of Sylar's expression, his eyes falling to the floor as he continues to listen to Peter. This is not what he expected. Who he killed, what the papers meant, what he meant by saying he was Peter's brother.. but not this. How he became who he is?
"Haven't you read my file?" Sylar begins, eyes remaining on the floor. "I'm a psychopathic killer. All I wanted was to be special. My mother drove me to it, said I could be something more. I always.. wanted a family, one that came and took me from my parents.. I didn't want to be mundane. My father was a watchmaker. I didn't want to be destined to be a watchmaker. Well, I got what I wanted. Found out I was… special. That I understood things, what made them work, what made them… tick, so to speak. So I killed. I regretted it. I wanted forgiveness. I didn't want to have to kill. But then I met… her."
"They were files from the Company, right? They tend to say what they want them to say," Peter says softly, not trusting the Company as far has to. If he did trust them, this man wouldn't be locked up in a room in Bat Country. He'd be locked up somewhere much different— with the people who wrote those files, and the ones he's escaped from more than enough times. They've obviously not done much good. "But I know you are a killer— but the file did say that you weren't before." Which was what most interested him. He regretted it. That makes him take in a slow breath. Then… "Her?"
Sylar doesn't respond at first to Peter's words, but rather, he continues to sit on his stool, eyes still glued to the floor. It's quite obvious by his body language that he's very uncomfortable in this situation. Whether it's the fact he's powerless, confessing his guilt, the mention of 'her', or being stuck in a room with Peter Petrelli is anyone's guess. However, when Peter repeats that word, 'her', Sylar looks up at the wall to his right, before his head slowly swivels to the left to make eye contact with Peter. "Elle Bishop."
Remaining where he is, Peter frowns at the mention of the name. That wasn't included in the file he read— there might have been pages missing or something. They could have blown away during their fight, scattered so he couldn't find them. He doesn't know. "Elle." He repeats the name. There's a quieter sound to his voice. "What about Elle?"
"I was going to kill myself for what I had done to a man, a man I had killed," Sylar responds, eyes leaving Peter's once again. They find a random spot on the floor, and they shift, wildly, from here to there, but never back up at Peter. "Hang myself. From the ceiling. I had the noose around my neck, kicked my support out from under me. I was choking. I was going to die. I should have died." He pauses, allowing this to sink in, before he continues. "Elle found me. The rope had broken. I don't know if she had anything to do with it. It doesn't matter. We… became friends. She became the closest thing I had to a friend, anyway. She made me want to stop. Made me want to be forgiven, to forget what I was, what my ability was doing to me. She made me want to overcome the hunger. She made me feel like I… could be normal."
There's a great deal of information that causes mixed reactions, Peter can't help but move to sit down now, almost against his will. There'd been two places to sit in here, after all, and he takes the second one, settling down hard against it. "The Company had found you just after you started… becoming what you are now?" Elle found him. He takes in a slow breath, because this would have been the Elle still alive now, the one who helped him, got him to escape, made him believe in himself… right up until her father did the switcharoo. "What happened? Did she… take you in?"
"Like I said, we became friends. Or what I thought was friends. She came by one day with pie. I had a list of names, people who had abilities, people that I knew I could hunt down and take their power. She asked about it, and I… I showed her the ability I had stolen. Telekinesis." Sylar pauses again, as if he were going through the process of remembering it, playing the scenes from the past out in his head. "I told her the list was people who could do things like me. She wanted to know more, but I didn't want to have to explain any further. All I told her was that my power, my ability to understand things was… it was like an addiction. The hunger. It made me crave more. I told her that she made me feel like I could be normal. She told me I was special."
More to process, more to hear. Peter closes his eyes for a moment, actually lowering his head some and shivering as the tension goes through him. In some ways this story is like his own, but the craving, the addiction. "Your ability— it acts like a hunger?" He asks softly, catching on one thing that draws his attention, that he wants to ask more about. The Elle thing disturbs him, but he can't say it sounds unlike what she could be capable of, if the Company wanted him for some reason.
"Yes. It's… it's hard to describe, but it makes me want more. Whenever someone has an ability, I have to have it. I couldn't stop. That's why— that's why I've killed so many people. I'm not asking for forgiveness, but… the hunger makes me what I am." Sylar takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He can't believe he's having this conversation with Peter Petrelli of all people. "It's why I attacked Claire when she came. The hunger took over. It made me do to her what I did." That's for another time. Back to Elle. "Elle, she… when she asked about the list, I threw it away. She stole it. She found someone from it, and she had him come to my house. She wanted to introduce me to someone else like me. She came over beforehand, and we were cooking dinner… then he showed up. Some man. He could.. make things break… and she.. Elle. She liked it. I didn't."
"You liked her," Peter realizes softly, looking across at this man who shares a kind kinship in that capacity. They both liked the same woman at one point— and in a way they both were getting used for a greater purpose. Who knows what was real, what she actually felt, and if she'd actually wanted to be involved with either of them. She's a Company girl… always doing what her father wanted, always trying to bid for her father's respect. If it's one thing he knew about her… "Even though the Company knew what you… could do… they still put you in front of temptation." Like leading a drug addict to a heroine factory and expecting him not to sample… it's sick. But he doesn't put it past the Company. She'd made him want to change… "Did you kill him?"
At Peter's words, 'you liked her,' Sylar stops speaking, and turns his attention to the wall. He remains silent for a few moments, before finally looking back to Peter. "Yes. I thought finally someone could.. accept me. Help me stop the hunger. Who could like a simple watchmaker? I restored time pieces. I wasn't anything until I found my.. ability. But it made me something I didn't want to be. She helped that." He pauses again, taking another breath, and continues to speak. "She seemed so… happy at what he could do. I was getting more jealous as time went on, and then finally, my anger won out. I took him, was going to kill him, but Elle tried to stop me. Shocked me. I was surprised. She had a power, too. She had lied. That's when I realized, it was all…" He stops, not finishing his sentence, and moves past it. "I threw her in a different room. Told her to leave. I didn't want her to see, despite what she had done, what I was about to do. And then… yes. Then I killed him." He looks up at Peter, making eye contact with the other man. "That's when it all started. The hunger won."
"The Company makes people do terrible things— things they might not agree with. She might have changed her mind when she decided to try and stop you," Peter says quietly, trying to defend the woman that he spent months in love with— part of him will probably always love her, even if they're not together. "I'm sorry that that happened— if the Company hadn't gotten involved, you might not have become what you are. All the more reason to keep you from them." They made things worse. Though now he wants to talk to Elle… maybe later. He looks back up at the man, meeting his eyes. "You can't control that aspect of your ability— this hunger you describe. But you probably can control it. Right now it's controlling you and it's made you do things that…" He's shown regret for, shown remorse in some way. Tried to kill himself. "If you really want it, maybe I can help."
"How?" Sylar says, standing from his stool and walking towards the middle of the room. He turns back to Peter, shaking his head before looking around the room helplessly. "You have no idea what it's like! The constant need to kill. The want to take other's abilities. To grow stronger. To have more power. To have… what's /mine./" His head snaps to Peter, eyes boring into the other mans. "The hunger… is what I am. I can't change that. I tried to kill myself, tried to show remorse… I even asked you to kill me. Yet.. when Claire came… I did what I did. I couldn't control it. I can't ever stop it. Elle showed me what I really was. She helped create the monster I am today. How can I forgive her for that?" The killer seems helpless, his pain and remorse, his hurt and anger, all coming to the surface. The lights of the room flicker, and Sylar keeps his eyes on Peter.
"It's not who you are," Peter says, eyes flickering toward the lights. That's not the best sign in the world, but it's also why he didn't dare leave Bat Country for very long. "It's not who you were before your abilities, and it's not who you have to be with them." It's a recycled argument, one that someone has thrown at him in the past. "I'm not asking you to forgive Elle. Or the Company…" He's not sure he can forgive them, or even this man. But he wants to try to help, to do something besides killing— to do things differently. He starts to stand up from his seat, getting him closer to the right height. "Maybe we just need to… how does your ability work? You said you understand how things work, that's part of your ability— so you must know how yours works."
"The Company…" Sylar repeats the name, falling into thought after it. "Elle," he whispers next, more to himself than Peter. Rage is slowly etching its way onto Sylar's face, the lights flickering again. Sylar's attention snaps up to them, noticing for the first time that they're flickering. He takes a deep breath, willing the rage to go away. It's hard, extremely hard, but it's working. A little bit. "I don't want to be this anymore, Peter," he says, turning his eyes back to the other man. "My ability… it.. allows me to understand how things work. Other powers. The hunger… I don't understand that part. It's just… part of me. Part of my ability."
"I'm not giving you to them," Peter says, trying to give some assurances, though the rage might be more for their safety than this man's. They've never shown a willingness to kill him— even when he'd been in their custody. Even now that he's finding out they made him this way. "I'll help you," he finally says, meeting the eyes of the man who tried to kill him, the one he has little to no reason to even forgive— except that he wants to do this. "There's a lot of abilities that… are dangerous. I've never heard of one that had what yours does— I guess I didn't get that part of it. Only thing that happens when I think of you is— the first thing I saw you do. When you threw the lockers at me." It could be that's the only ability of this man's he'll ever be able to access… "But if you don't want to be a killer… If you want to change… I'll do whatever I can to help you."
"My ability, you.. have to understand things. See how they…" Sylar begins to explain more about his ability, but he cuts himself off. He won't put that on Peter. He may be a sociopathic, messed up, completely off his rocker serial killer, but he's not going to do that to Peter. Not if this man truly wants to help him after… "After all I've done to you, your.. family, you want to help me?" Sylar's look is incredulous— can Peter really mean it?
Can he possibly forgive him. Peter looks down for a moment. He'd been so ready to kill this man, tear him apart if he had to— cut his head off. This man deserves it and more, doesn't he? Closing his eyes, he looks conflincted for a moment, but then he looks back up. "I was the bomb. I was the one who was going to destroy New York, because I couldn't control my ability." There's a long break. "Do you have any idea how many people would have died… if my brother hadn't shown up to stop me from killing them?" Brother.
"But you can control it now," Sylar says, turning his eyes towards Peter. "Is that why you think you can help me?" The man steps towards Peter, but halts, coming to a stop a few feet from him. Brother. Peter's brother… that means his own brother. If what Arthur Petrelli told him was true… "Brother…" Sylar says, considering the word, as he looks to Peter. Then the realization sinks in. Peter's brother saved him… and Peter is offering to save another brother.
"Only sometimes. It's more I learned how to manage it," Peter explains, keeping eye contact. His voice is soft, almost a whisper, as if he just woke up. The brother… he wants to pay back what his own brother did for him. His brother doesn't need saving right now, but this man who might be his brother does. He takes in a slow breath. "I still lose control every so often— break things, potentially hurt people. But I learned ways to manage it, to harness it. Your situation is different, but… I want to help you." It's honest, because he's not a very good liar, even when he tries to be. "There's— something else. What did you do with the sword that you had when we saw each other for the first time after Kirby Plaza?"
"I hope for… your sake.. my sake, everyone's sake, you can help me. Otherwise, you'll have to kill me. If I can't control it.. I won't be able to stop." Sylar takes a deep breath, moving back to his stool and taking a seat. He closes his eyes, concentrating on other thoughts, before Peter's question about the sword pulls him out of it. "The sword is… I can't remember," Sylar says, looking at the floor. "It.. I haven't seen it since I stole it. I hid it, but so much has happened.." He looks back to Peter, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I don't know where it is."
"If that's the only way to stop you… you're my responsibility," Peter's said it to everyone since he took the man in and spared his life. If it comes down to him needing to die, he'll take responsibility and try to do it. Will he be capable of it is still in question— he's hesitated the last two times, and this time has tried to find a way to save him. He doesn't know where the sword is. He nods. "Okay— I just… thought I'd ask about it. You didn't have it at the warehouse." That's not going to make Hiro happy, but… He believes him. No reason not to. It's been over half a year and he's never seen him with the sword after that. "You're going to have to stay here. Until I can find somewhere else to take you. Do you have any food requests? I can probably bring a computer or a radio… or books."
"I'll eat whatever you bring me," Sylar says. It's.. quite shocking to find himself in this situation, really. Peter Petrelli offering him food and basic comforts. "I'll stay here. Keeping me locked up…is for the best." He takes another look at Peter, and nods. "Books will be fine. Whatever you can find. And Peter…" Sylar stares at the man for a long, hard moment, before finally speaking. "T… thank you."
"I'll bring you by something to eat in an hour, and a couple books," Peter says, finding that to be interesting. He'd lived in a cell for four months within the Company, and even just regular cooked food and a couple of books would have been a welcome comfort. The book that Elle gave him still sits on his shelf, even if they're no longer together. That won't be the one he gives this man, of course— he'll find something else. "You're welcome, Sylar." Sylar. Not spit out with anger or rage— his voice maintains a softness to it.