2007-12-01: Warning

Starring:

Elle_icon.gif Sylar_icon.gif

Summary: A sick Elle decides to visit her father, but meets with the last person she expects to see.

Date It Happened: December 1st, 2007

Warning


Bob Bishop's Office

The door to Bob Bishop's office opens, seemingly on its own, and then closes shortly after that. No one is seen entering or leaving, and one might think it were a ghost that had opened the door— until the papers on the desk shuffle around by seemingly no one Shortly after, the comfortable, leather-backed chair Bob uses spins around, coming to a rest so that it's pointing forward towards the desk.

With nothing but a small, barely imperceptible shimmer, Sylar appears, already seated in Bob's chair. He rummages through the drawers, moving stacks of paper aside, until his eyes fall on a picture of Bob's daughter, Elle. He reaches out, grabs it, and spends a few moments looking at it, before tossing it down on the desk and swiveling the chair so that he's facing away from the door. Bishop isn't here. The killer can only hope he arrives soon, as his time is limited.

—-

After spending a week holed up in her apartment doing little but feeling sorry for herself, Elle walks the corridor leading to her father's office. She's wrapped up in a heavy wool sweater, hugging her arms close around herself, looking every bit the sickly creature that she is. Her hair is unkempt, her skin sallow, eyes downcast. Coming to rest outside the door to the office, she raises a hand to knock, the other settling on the doorknob. "Daddy?" Her voice is hoarse. Letting her eyes drift closed momentarily, she pushes the door open. Were she not so profoundly ill, she might get a warning chill with that first step into the office, might have her guard up higher. But she doesn't; she simply steps inside, nudging the door closed.

—-

The window overlooking Bishop's desk provides Sylar with a rather nice view of the surroundings of the city outside, however, he has no interest in looking at it. He's here for one specific purpose: Bob Bishop. Time is of the essence, and he can only wait a little longer. If he doesn't arrive soon…

It seems luck will favor Sylar today, however, because the door opening catches his immediate attention. The voice, however, throws him off guard. It's a little hoarse, sure, but that is definitely not the voice of Bob Bishop. Spinning the chair around, he brings himself into full view of Elle, his eyes falling on her and narrowing ever so slightly. He pauses for the briefest moment before speaking, his voice calm and collected. "Daddy isn't here right now."

The voice sends a shiver down her spine, and Elle snaps her head up, instantly regretting the quick movement as the room sways. She stumbles sideways, reaching out for a bookshelf to steady herself. When she looks to Sylar again, nothing short of hatred in her gaze, she starts to reach her hand out in front of her as if to attack - then stops herself, drawing it back. "Sylar," she spits out, narrowing her eyes into a steely glare, her voice betraying some apprehension. "What did you do with my father?"

—-

"I haven't done anything with your father," comes the response from Sylar, his own voice betraying him as well: a controlled rage at the accusation that he's done something with Bishop. Of course, being that who he is, he isn't surprised in the least that Elle would suspect he's done something. He stands from the desk, but doesn't move from his spot, his eyes still locked on Elle's. "I'm…" He hesitates, but pushes through, confessing to her the reason he's here, even if this isn't something he planned or wanted to happen. "I'm here to warn him."

—-

Having no faith in her ability is a new sensation for Elle, and up until now, she hasn't needed to consider an alternative self-defense method. Even now, she's questioning why she left her gun in her car instead of taking it inside with her, cursing her assumption that she wouldn't need it inside. There are a hundred or more thoughts racing through her mind as she watches Sylar, listens to his words, and not a single one of them entertains the notion that he might be telling the truth. She edges nearer to the bookshelf, her gaze transfixed on the killer, willing herself not to blink lest she open her eyes again to find him an inch from her face. For a moment, she stands there looking like a wild animal torn between fight and flight; seconds later, she snaps out of her reverie, both hands ripping objects from the shelves to throw across the office. If she's lucky, one of them might even hit him and surprise him long enough for her to get out.

—-

This is usually the part where people either start screaming or running. Elle is doing neither of them, and all Sylar can do for the moment is simply watch her, waiting for her next move. "… Elle?" he finally says, but he isn't fast enough— next thing he knows, she's throwing things at him. A lot of things. He throws his hands up in front of his face and turns to the side slightly, books, trophies, and anything else she can find on the shelf bouncing off of him. "Stop," he commands, before finally giving in and throwing a hand out, all objects heading his way stopping mid-air. "Stop," he says again, eyes snapping to Elle as the objects floating mid-air crash harmlessly to the ground. Hand still stretched out, fingers spread wide, as both a sign of peace and 'HEY STOP', he speaks again. "That's not why I'm here."

—-

Even something as simple as throwing small objects across the room is taxing to Elle, and she slumps against the bookcase when her would-be weapons fall to the ground. Knowing she has nothing to use against him, nothing that will even come close to stopping him, she tears away from the bookcase. Her hands fumble for the doorknob, trying to yank the door open and throw herself out into the hallway, but her urgency makes it a difficult task. As she finally turns the knob, the door starting to open, she lets out a cry for help.

—-

Closing his eyes, Sylar shakes his head when Elle turns towards the door. Hand already raised, it's a simply flick of the wrist to slam the door shut again, hopefully before anyone can hear that cry of help. "What are you doing?" he says, annoyance in his voice, as he steps out from behind the desk, heading in her direction. "I'm not here to hurt you!" There's no way she's going to believe this. After all, he's… Sylar. And if she keeps this up…

"Listen to me. If you call for help, if you force me to do something, or leave, your father is going to die. I know. I was sent here to kill him."

—-

Trying desperately to pull the door open after he's closed it, Elle lets out a whimper of frustration and desperation both. It doesn't seem to help, when he says that he was sent to kill her father; she yells again, but her voice is too ragged to carry very far. Whirling around to face Sylar again, she throws both hands out, and he might expect electricity to arc from her palms… but nothing happens. Just a flicker of the lights, then all is still again. "Do you really think I'm that stupid?" she growls, one hand grasping the doorknob again, turning it as if he might actually let her out now when he wouldn't a moment before.

—-

"If I was here for what you think I'm here for, do you think you would still be alive right now?" He takes another step forward, hands falling to his side. The door remains closed, held shut with telekinesis, and Sylar doesn't even flinch when she raises her hands in his direction. His eyes look upwards at the flickering lights, before he returns his gaze to Elle.

—-

Shrinking away from him as he approaches, Elle tries again to ward him off with her ability. This time, the lights flicker for a second or two longer - and then she's gritting her teeth, hissing in pain as a charge winds up her arms. It's miniscule, quick to dissipate. "Why the hell should I trust you," she says, tipping her head back against the door, eyes closed against the lingering pain from the charge, "if you were sent here to kill my father?" Slowly, she tilts her head down again, returning her attention to Sylar with a glower fit to kill. Either she's starting to listen… or she's decided there's no way she's getting out of this alive.

—-

"Perhaps you should trust me by the fact I haven't kill you yet," Sylar snaps, his patience growing thin. The lights flicker again, and once more, Sylar's attention drifts towards them, but he focuses it back to Elle. "Are you— sick? What's wrong with your ability?" he says, taking another step forward and closing the distance between them that much more. His question isn't one of caring or worry— it's a general curiosity, as the fact that she hasn't tried to kill him is intriguing to the man.

—-

If he listens closely, he might hear the way her heart starts to race faster yet as he comes closer, and the longer Elle stays in his company, the more her eyes reflect her fear. Something else, too, obscured by fright; something hard to define. His question is met with hostility, as he might have expected. "None of your business." As if it wasn't plainly obvious, as if even a child couldn't see the shape she's in. She scrunches her nose, sliding along the wall, away from the door now - anything to put more distance between them. "If you're not here to kill me or him, what ARE you here for?"

—-

"You don't listen very well, do you?" Sylar responds, no longer trying to be the nice guy about this. He isn't surprised at her reaction in the least. "I told you, I was here to warn him. Someone— it doesn't matter who — wants him dead. They sent me to do it. Obviously, I'm not going to by the fact that I'm warning you about it." He looks away, stepping towards the desk, and he shakes his head. "He… your father needs to hide. People will come for him. I'm not doing this for him. I'm not doing this for you. I'm—" He doesn't finish, rather he just looks at Elle, and for one, tiny twinkle of an eye, the hunger is gone.

But then it's back, and he steps away from her, eyes moving back to the window. "Do you understand?"

—-

It's questionable whether Elle believes a word of what Sylar's saying. After all, this is the man who's tried several times to kill her - who has killed more people than she can think of in the fleeting thoughts coursing through her mind. Some part of her must be considering it, for her to have stopped attacking him with whatever she could get her hands on, but there's an overtone of suspicion in every glance, skepticism in every word. "Yeah," she says simply, still sidestepping away from the door, because when he leaves, if he really leaves peacefully, she wants to be as far away from him as possible. "I'll tell him."

—-

"Then we're done," Sylar responds simply, turning away from the desk. He avoids looking at Elle, and doesn't do anything but allow her to gap the distance between them further. He places a hand on the doorknob, shimmering out of visibility as he does. The door opens, and Sylar's voice can be heard, indicating that he's still in the room. "I still remember, Elle." The door closes immediately after that, and Sylar is gone.

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