Title: Baptism By Fire
Author: Selestina118
Characters: Sylar and nameless OC
Spoilers: Through 3.13
Rating: PG
Word Count: 880
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or Sylar at all.
Summary: This is just a drabble/oneshot of an encounter with Sylar directly after the fire. This just needed to come out of me because I have other fics that I need to work on and my muse was just persistent that I write this. It may be silly, but I really feel like I have a deep connection with the Sylar character and after last night's episode, what I felt he really needed was a good talking to and hug – reassurance that he is a meaningful addition to humanity. Angela's words cut deep. XD Eh? Maybe I'm delusional, but I really do love this character with all of my wee heart. I hope you enjoy this . . . a conversation with Sylar.
"Is there any good in this world...?"
* * *
The building was still smoldering from the fire that burned for hours on end. She watched and wept as he died along with all of the hate that encompassed that locale. He was just looking for a home – a place to belong to.
As she transversed the charred floors, she finally came upon him. All that was left was a pile of blackened bones and a large piece of charred glass embedded at the base of the skull. She wept at the sight. She knew what the outcome would be, but no one should have to go through this kind of torture, even if unknown to them.
Kneeling down, she gently picked up the skeleton with a unnecessary reverence cradling the skull in her hands as she plucked the glass from its place. As this action was completed, the ash seemed to shed into the wind. Skeletal muscle tissue grew from the very bones and worked its way down and across. Organs grew in their rightful place and the dermis laid out its landscape with each careful bump and curve. The final layer of skin completed its growth as hair laid the final touch on the masterpiece known as man.
With a gasp of life and a heavy coughing fit he came back to life, clinging to the girl that held him just so. Blinking, he scrambled to gather his bearings. New life was far more jarring than one expected it to be, especially if death came swiftly at the hands of another.
With a jolt he flung himself from the hands of the girl demanding who she was, what had happened, and why he shouldn't kill her right there.
"I'm someone who cares" was all she said as she slowly rose from the ground. "You died and were burned in the fire that ravaged this facility, and I am here to give you hope."
He shivered as he took in her answers looking down and just now realizing his modesty was a fair bit compromised. The girl took the long, black jacket from her own shoulders and handed it off to him. He took it quickly and wrapped himself in its warmth.
"There's no need for hope and why should you care about me. You should have left me dead. I've never done anything to warrant otherwise." He glowered at the rubble beneath his feet.
"Believe it or not, but you are worthwhile to be alive and well on this planet. No matter what anyone may say, you are . . . you have the potential to be a good man and you can kick ass doing it. You have to say no more to the manipulation because they saw you as weak. You are most certainly not . . . they just never acknowledged who you are as a person."
He gave a bark of a laugh and stared right through the girl. "How are they supposed to know who I am? I'm a monster, if you don't know. . . . I don't even know who I am myself. I look in the mirror and I see every sin and every act of malicious intent. I'm a living daemon."
She took a step forward and held his gaze right back. "You need to stop reacting to how others perceive you and use you. Stop trying to prove yourself because you are the only one who should have say in your life. Stop feeling sorry for yourself."
"Who are you to lecture me?" He growled as he took a step forward ready to silence her.
"Someone who has your best interests at heart. Someone who is not trying to manipulate you, but to let you live as freely as possible. Someone who actually cares for you and asks for nothing in return."
That new, all too familiar tingle did not flare up at the back of his neck. "Why? You don't know me. I'm a serial killer . . . a danger to society."
She smiled at him. "So? You were Gabriel Gray, the good-hearted albeit extremely isolated watchmaker before . . . All you've done is assert yourself. Used your powers to defend your status and become greater. Disregarding the powers, is it not a general dream to become better than our forefathers?" She went slightly closer and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe it's delusional to believe that a completely normal life is possible – that one encounter can set someone on the right path. But just believe in yourself, believe in your base soul and be the bad-ass that knows what to do. Find the truth and you will find yourself."
She took him into an embrace which he didn't return, but he seized up underneath the wool coat. All of the emotion that he had been repressing for what seemed like forever came welling up to the surface. It burned under his skin, but it felt more of a relief than painful. The whole time he didn't look at her. She was right, she was delusional, but it relieved him to think that there was at least one person in the world who was truthful with him.
"What are you, some guardian?" There was no answer as he looked around, staring out into the emptiness of the world around him.