Through the Looking Glass (2/3)

[flying_monkees]

Title: Through the Looking Glass (2/3)
Characters: Peter/Sylar
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence and character deaths.  This part and the next gets pretty dark too, so be warned.
Disclaimer: Heroes does not belong to me no matter how much I wish it did.
Summary: Peter tries to handle the fallout from Sylar being trapped in the mirror
Table/Prompt:  AU/What if... for mission_insane.
A/N:  This is a sequel to Of Smoke and Mirrors.  The bunny wouldn't leave me alone and so I wanted to write it.  Somehow it ended up longer then the original...  Beta'd by the wonderful and oh so patient flwrpwr_vampyre. 

Part 1

Peter woke up with a jerk, mind numb with sleep.  He felt around for Sylar sleepily and woke up completely when he realized that the spot next to him was empty.  Unbidden images of broken bodies crumpled on the floor with their heads sliced open, came to his mind and he shoved them aside.  He couldn’t be killing again already, there was no way.  He rushed out into the living room, stopping when he saw the shadowed figure standing in front of the window, fingers pressed against the glass.  He moved slowly up to the other man, putting a hand on his arm.

 

“Sylar?  What are you doing, come back to bed…” he said softly, looking up at the other man’s face.  Sylar slowly turned his face towards Peter and he gave a small gasp.  There was nothing there, no emotion, no anything, just…blank.  He swallowed, trying again.  “Sylar, its okay, just come back to bed.”  He tugged gently on Sylar’s arm.

 

“Peter?  You’re not real, go away.”  Sylar said in a cracked voice, his head slowly turning back towards the window, staring at his reflection.  “I need to get out of here, I’m losing my mind.  I can see you, you know, on the other side, always on the other side.  You look…”  He trailed off, fingers pressing harder against the glass, a look of annoyance crossing his face before that blank look took over again.

 

Peter looked at him, worried.  It was going to be harder than he’d thought, bringing Sylar back from the edge.  “I’m sorry.  I wanted to get you out earlier but I didn’t know how.  I didn’t know they were going to do this, I swear.  I would never have let it happen if I had.”  He said softly, resting his head on Sylar’s shoulder.  He couldn’t stand seeing that blank look, those dead eyes.  He wrapped his arms around the taller man, holding tight, wishing that would be enough.

 

Sylar pressed his fingers against the glass harder, trying to push through.  He knew it was no good, he hadn’t been able break through before, why would now be any different.  But something was different, there was something…interfering.  He slowly turned his head, staring at Peter.  “Why are you trying to stop me?”  He frowned, eyes barely focusing on the smaller man.

 

“I’m not trying to stop you Sylar, I’m trying to get you to understand you’re already free.  Please, just come back to bed.  Once you wake up in the morning, you’ll see…”  Peter tugged harder on Sylar, slowly pulling him away from the window and towards the bedroom.  Sylar let out a long tortured sigh; eyes half closing as he let himself get taken back to bed.

 

“It’s not real; you’re just tormenting me, teasing me with what I can’t have.  I fucking hate you Petrelli, I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”  Sylar said a flat voice, not sure if he really meant it or not.  Peter ignored the words, pushing Sylar back on the bed and curling up against him, holding tight. 

 

Peter crooned soothing sounds into Sylar’s ear, stroking his hair.  He wanted to kill Bennet for this.  No one deserved this; he was surprised Sylar was even coherent.  That was a good sign though, it meant that Sylar still had something of his mind left, he’d recognized him.  He could use that, work with that.  He could feel Sylar relaxing minutely in his arms, slowly falling back asleep.  Peter yawned, letting himself fall asleep too.

 

Two months later.

 

Peter sighed, rubbing his face.  The last two months had been hell but worth it.  Sylar had finally believed him after weeks of trying to convince him that he really was out of the mirror but now…he shook his head, watching the killer move through the house, never stopping for long.  He wasn’t sure what Sylar was looking for but there was something haunting behind those brown eyes now, something that wasn’t there before.  He only hoped he could get him to see that things could be different now, that he didn’t have to ever worry about being put back there.

 

The nightmares were the most worrying.  Nearly every night now for the last two months Sylar had woken up screaming to be let out. All he could do was hold him, reassure him that they weren’t real, that he’d never allow that to happen to him again.  Sylar would turn those haunted eyes on him, clearly not believing him but allowing Peter to soothe him back to sleep anyway.

 

He watched as Sylar stopped in front of the window again, staring out of it, fingers caressing it.  He didn’t understand this behavior either.  It was almost as if Sylar was reassuring himself that it wasn’t the backside of a mirror and no matter how many times Peter told him it was just a window; Sylar would only nod his head and then start pacing through the house again.  Well, it was time for something new.  He went over to the other man, taking his hand.  “Sylar, let’s go outside for a bit, get some fresh air and sun.  You…you could use some.”  He frowned, contemplating how thin and pale Sylar still was.

 

Sylar looked at him with dull eyes but let Peter pull him outside.  He sighed as the soft breeze hit his face and Peter swore he saw a small smile.  Sylar walked away from Peter, moving down to the bottom of the hill, looking out over the open countryside.  Peter had picked this place for the view and for how isolated it was.  Now he wished there was more there that he could use to bring Sylar out of his shell.  Sylar moved along the edge of the cliff, staring down over the edge, a thoughtful look on his face.

 

“What are you thinking?”  Peter asked him, coming up behind him.

 

Sylar didn’t even look at him, just started muttering under his breath, staring down the side of the cliff.  Peter frowned with worry and leaned in a bit closer to catch what he was saying.

 

“It’s such a long way down; I wonder if he could make it.  It would be interesting to see him try.  I want to pick him up, hold him over the edge.  It wouldn’t take long; I couldn’t hold him out there for long.  I’d have to drop him; it wouldn’t be my fault if I did, right?  Would Bennet scream as he fell or would he be able to fly?  If he did, then does that mean Mohinder could fly?  I could try it with him, see how long he’d last, he’s lighter, I wouldn’t let go as soon.  But if they couldn’t fly, would they scream?  How lovely would that be, hearing their screams as they fell…”  A small, sick smile crossed Sylar’s face and Peter jerked back, his eyes going round with horror and shock.  He'd thought Sylar was doing better but now he realized he was lying to himself.

 

“Sylar, I think you need to come away from the edge.  You…you could fall.”  He tugged on the other man’s arm, his stomach twisting at the thought of what Sylar had been contemplating.  Maybe…maybe he’d made a mistake…maybe this wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had but…he couldn’t stop now.  He’d done this to Sylar, or at least allowed it to happen, and he owed it to the other man to fix it.

 

Sylar turned towards Peter, frowning at him.  “I’m fine Peter, I’ll be careful.  I was just…thinking.”  He gave Peter an odd smile, one that Peter couldn’t read.  Sylar turned towards the house, moving slowly back up the hill.  “It’s very peaceful out here Peter but you know it can’t last.  They’ll find us again; they always do, unless we stop them.  We can do that Peter; we can stop them for good.  We’re a team and unstoppable.  Just think about it, we can set the world on fire…”  He grinned again, that stomach-turning grin and Peter just nodded, letting him ramble.  It was safer that way.

 

Peter watched Sylar walk away, trying to figure out how he could show Sylar it didn’t need to be that way, that they could just stay here and be happy.  There was no reason to go back to what he’d been; he could start over fresh, live a quiet life.  But he knew Sylar would never go for that.  He’d had that for so many years as Gabriel that there was no way he could return to that quiet existence.  Taking a deep breath, he smiled at the taller man, jogging to catch up, smiling at him.  “Couldn’t we just stay here Sylar?  Be happy, just the two of us?  There’s no reason to go after them, I’ve made sure they can’t find us…”  He stopped, seeing the look on Sylar’s face, his smile faltering.

 

For the next few months Peter watched Sylar wander aimlessly through the house and grounds.  He kept trying to talk to the other man, trying to get him to see that it didn’t have to be this way.  Some days Peter thought he was getting to him but other days…  And at night, when they were in bed together, coming down from the high of sex, he was sure Sylar understood.  Sylar seemed the most…there…at night.  His hope climbed higher each time they were tangled together, the scent of sex strong in the air.  But in the morning, Sylar was back to his usual, hollow self.  Peter couldn't help but think it was the definition of insanity – doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results every time.  But today…today he thought he’d made a breakthrough.

 

They had been outside again, sitting underneath a tree just staring off and not really talking.  Suddenly Sylar turned to him “We should go back, stop them from doing what they did to me again. Keep other people safe."  He looked away again, a thoughtful look on his face.  Peter perked up; it was the first time that Sylar had mentioned going back, of trying to stop the Company.

 

“Do you mean it?  You really want to go back and stop them?”  Peter asked, excited and hoping he wasn’t scaring Sylar off the idea.  A slow smile crossed the other man’s face.

 

“I think that would be the best thing Peter.  Go back, find them all and stop them…”  Sylar said in a quiet voice.  Peter didn’t see the gleam that came into his eye, the haunted look being replaced by something darker.

 

Peter nodded, his smile widening.  “Yes, exactly.  Let’s show them they can’t keep messing with us.  With any of us.  We can stop them Sylar, stop them from hurting anyone, ever again.”  He jumped up, heading towards the house.  “We can leave in a few days.  I can get things ready; get some information on where we need to go…”  He trailed off as he moved into the house, muttering to himself the things they’d need.

 

Sylar watched him move off, his eyes narrowing.  His mind was still in chaos but there was one thought rebounding inside his head.  Revenge.  And he now had the perfect tool to help him - Peter.  He got up off the ground and followed the empath into the house, thinking of all the ways they could hurt the Company.