Day 44: Sun Room, Second Shift

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[from here]

He really had beat the rush. Suzaku found a chair as close to the corner and as far from the bulletin as he could, and turned it to face the wall before curling up in it. His nurse frowned at him again, but she was still being cooperative, and frankly he didn't care what she had to say in the slightest. He didn't care even if he got sedated. All he cared about was finally having a few moments to himself, to sort out what Euphie's love meant and what the hell Lelouch's problem was.

It felt like he had all the pieces of a puzzle and was just too stupid to figure out how they fit together. What Lelouch had said about Shirley at breakfast and the tone he'd taken with Euphie on the board, Lelouch asking how Suzaku was, Lelouch dying. . . "All we can do is move forward and look out for the ones we care about." Euphie struggling to get out her last words, pain overtaking Suzaku's consciousness while he fought pathetically to carry out Lelouch's order. . . The last couple days, when he'd felt like he was finally figuring this out, seemed so far away now.

There were a couple things that were certain, at least: he hated what Lelouch had done, he always would. But he -- he didn't hate Lelouch, and he hadn't for a while now, and that wasn't going to change. And he didn't have much time, because everyone but Suzaku was terrifyingly mortal. And Lelouch was an idiot, but he still wasn't sure about the how and why of that one yet.

[for the Saucinator]

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The man's anger was so palpable that Peter actually took a half-step back. He shouldn't have, but he did. Still, if anything, Sylar was at his weakest right now, even weaker than when he'd been at Peter's mercy in the courtyard. Now he didn't even have any powers to fall back on, other than maybe Elle's electricity.

Peter shuddered himself. There was no way he could feel pity for a man like this, even if he was bothered by the knowledge that Tyki must have been the one to do this to his enemy. That might mean that Tyki was just as dangerous, if not more so, than Sylar--

Or maybe he only went after people who confronted him first. Tyki had been badly wounded by Sylar the night they'd both been brainwashed, so maybe this was just a matter of revenge, the sort of vigilantism that Peter still couldn't bring himself to subscribe to.

Peter hoped so.

He drew closer again, close enough that he could tell that Sylar's arm was in the sling not because of a break, but rather because of some wound on his hand. With the way it was bandaged, it was probably a stabbing; Tyki certainly hadn't gone easy on the man.

"Maybe next time you'll think before assuming that everyone is just going to lay down and die," he said with a hiss. That wasn't even what this was really about, though. Peter bent down so that he was making eye contact with the killer, and then he got to the point. "You might be out of commission now, but if you ever get near Claire Bennet again, you're going to regret it, you son of a bitch."

He could feel anger just as strongly as Sylar could, and he wanted to make sure the man knew that.

[darwinism]

Peter was angry, and Sylar could tell, could hear it in his voice and feel it in the air between them. When the man bent down, Sylar glanced slightly to meet his eyes, making sure to not let any of his own emotion slip through. With Wally, weakness could be useful. With Peter, weakness could be devastating.

Sylar watched his expression, watched his brow furrow and his lip tremble and his eyes burn with self-righteous fury. Sylar felt the impact of his words in full force, trying to keep his expression level even as he frowned in frustration. Claire Bennet. Of course this was about Claire Bennet; it was always about Claire Bennet, and anyone else for whom Peter felt he should be a knight in shining armor.

Not that he always succeeded.

Sylar's eyes glinted and a wide, weary smile spread across his features.

"I'll regret it?" he asked hoarsely. He narrowed his eyes. "Why? Because you'll tell more friends about me? Let them do your dirty work?"

He pressed his good hand down on the armrest with all his strength, raising himself one significant inch toward his enemy.

"You're not the one who put me in that chair, Peter."

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Why the hell was the man smiling when he was the one who was injured here? Peter already knew that the fact that Sylar had lost last night was a sore spot, and he wasn't going to let him regain any semblance of confidence, no matter how hard he tried.

Still, that was easier said than done, and when Sylar implied that he'd meant to send Tyki after him, Peter was overcome with the urge to shove him back against the couch. Still, he knew what that would look like to the nurses, who didn't realize what Sylar was. With all the wounds that he had right now, Peter doubted he could even get away with pushing the man too hard.

"I know I'm not," he said through clenched teeth, "but I did make you curl up on the ground and tell me how to heal the girl who you wanted to kill, didn't I?" Oh, he still remembered. Even if it had been a stroke of luck, he'd still succeeded, and he wasn't going to let Sylar take that away from him.

"I didn't send him after you, and you know that," he said with a shake of his head as he straightened once again -- he might as well tower over Sylar while he had the chance. He knew better than anyone that Sylar was his responsibility, and he would never want someone else to endanger themselves by going after him.

Still, this was Claire they were talking about, and with her in the equation? Peter wasn't going to hold back anymore. Forget whatever reservations he had; he couldn't afford to let her get hurt again, especially not after last night.

He looked around for a brief few seconds and was thankful that she wasn't in the room. She didn't need to see this.

[darwinism]

"But I did make you curl up on the ground and tell me how to heal the girl who you wanted to kill, didn't I?"

The nails of Sylar's good hand dug into the fabric of the armrest as his teeth clenched against each other like rough sand. Peter didn't deserve to talk like he'd won that night: he hadn't even meant to order for the answer, and it wasn't as if he could ever pull that cheap trick again now that he didn't have the Institute on his side. How dare he even think of himself as a protector when he hadn't even been there for little, bitty Claire just yesterday? All he was doing right now was making himself feel better – covering up his own failure with pretty ideals and worthless threats.

"I didn't send him after you, and you know that."

And that – that Sylar could respond to.

"No, no, of course you didn't," he replied, regaining his smirk as he chuckled softly. "You just pointed him in the right direction, didn't you? Him and everyone else on the damn bulletin – to 'protect' them."

He slowly sank back down into the cushions.

"You've been doing so much protecting. Stalking me down every night even when I'm more powerful, threatening me every day even when I'm able to swing back. Why, you're even saving people before I kill them right in front of you."

He grinned widely, and painfully.

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

Peter could hardly believe the audacity of Sylar's claim that he had only made all of those warnings on the bulletin as some sort of manipulation, out of some hope that other people would take care of Sylar for him. That was something Sylar himself might have done, which was probably why he'd thought to taunt him about it in the first place.

But Peter wasn't like that, and the fact that this psycho would even suggest that he was--

Still, it was all just words, taunting that was supposed to stir up even more and more of his anger for the man. Then again, what was so wrong with letting that out? He just had to find the right time to do it.

Logic tired to break in and remind Peter that he had a purpose beyond dealing with Sylar. There was Nathan and Claire to think of, there was escape to work at. He couldn't let Sylar distract him too much, but at the same time, he couldn't completely ignore the man...

But there it was. Sylar brought up Elle, and that was one thing Peter couldn't tolerate. He felt himself start to lunge for the seated man, but stopped himself right before his hands reached Sylar's throat. Peter pulled away slowly, catching the disapproving glare of a nurse as he tried to take deep breaths and calm down all over again.

"Don't you think I'll ever let you off the hook," he said through an exhale. "No matter what you say, I'm still going to keep at it." Peter was nothing if determined and stubborn. He'd made his share of mistakes in the past, but he wasn't going to let it happen again.

[darwinism]

The grin held strong even as Peter lunged for him; if anything, he felt even better seeing someone else trying to kill him. Tyki had been a wild card, a new obstacle that Sylar had not yet mastered and was at a disadvantage against without his powers, but Peter? Peter was a problem that Sylar knew inside and out; Peter was a problem that Sylar could twist against itself before he even had to worry about being beaten by it.

So he watched with satisfaction as Peter tried to keep his own monster at bay, tried to deny the primal urges that made him exactly the same as any villain he judged.

Sylar would just have to show him how weak he truly was.

"I don't expect you to stop," Sylar said calmly. "Not even when I've killed your friends and taken Claire's power – maybe your brother's too." He cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. "Nathan... is here, isn't he?"

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The second Nathan was mentioned, it was like Peter could almost hear that final straw breaking. This time the anger seemed to just flare up in him rather than coming out physically; it flushed his cheeks as he stared coldly at his nemesis.

Sylar had just crossed a line that he should have never even tiptoed near, and he probably knew it. Maybe he wanted Peter to react this way. At this point, Peter didn't really care if he was playing into the man's hands or not.

"I will kill you before you hurt him," he said, and his voice was actually a decibel or two below his normal tone. He didn't need the nurses to hear him offering another patient death threats.

To be honest, Peter wasn't sure if he meant it, but he felt like he did. He would not stand and watch as Sylar bashed his brother's head in just so he could know what it was like to fly. If it meant that he finally had to do what it took and bloody his hands, then... then he was pretty sure he would do it.

[darwinism]

Sylar's grin widened at the reaction he got out of Peter. People like him were always so easy to provoke; hell, Sylar barely knew anything about the older Petrelli brother except for what had been on the newspaper clipping he'd put up on his wall so very long ago. And yet, here he was, making Peter think he'd go out of his way to kill the man.

And maybe he would. Maybe, if whatever power the politician had was intriguing enough, he would go ahead and run him through with a surge of electricity, just to see Peter's face. To see how he reacted to family being killed right in front of him, for him to know it was his fault.

Sylar's thoughts slowly ground to a halt, but before they could reach their inevitable conclusion, he let a grim smirk overtake his features.

"That's what I thought," Sylar whispered, his voice just as low. There was something different in his eyes as he raised them to meet Peter's, something profoundly angry. "You'd use someone else's powers to kill a man, but only for something you cared about."

The smirk widened and twisted.

"I wonder who that reminds me of."

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

Sylar's words caused a chill to run through Peter, and it took him only a second or two to realize that it was far too similar to the coldness he'd felt last night, before the visions and the pain had started.

It wasn't something he could argue with. He had just said he would kill the man, although he honestly didn't know if he would be using any borrowed powers to do it. Not that the method really mattered. It would still be murder, and that would still put him in the same category as Sylar.

Still, it was for a different reason. Sylar killed because he wanted something, whereas Peter would do it (maybe, possibly) because he wanted to stop something. He would do it to prevent further death, while Sylar's murdering just led to more and more - gave him extra ammunition to keep on going.

This was an ugly truth that Peter didn't necessarily want to face, but maybe heroes had to get their hands dirty sometimes. This wasn't some comic book, after all, and he'd been pushed to the point where he wasn't going to stand idly by anymore.

Peter let his arms fall to his sides as he started right into that smirking face. "Fine," he forced out stiffly. "Then I'll see you in Hell."

Before Sylar could respond, he turned and walked away.