DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HEROES; ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO NBC, AND THEIR AFFILIATES. CREATED BY: TIM KRING. I OWN NO PART PAST OR PRESENT IN THIS FRANCHISE
Characters: Gabriel 'Sylar' Grey, Peter Petrelli, and special guest Mohinder Suresh.
Genre: Comedy/Friendship
Rating: T: for mild language, mentions of alcohol, and other things…
Summary:
Mohinder goes to Peter to hoping to find hope and meets with Waffles, and loud noises…contains unhealthy doses of Sylar, and other random ingredients!
A/N:
This is officially my tenth fan fiction! Yay for double digits!
I really should be working on 'The Broken Watch' but I need some breathing room for that… I am pretty far in the planning, I just need to write it XD..
So, I present, as a celebration, my first ever true comedy piece! So, I am kind of nervous to post this because I wrote it at like 12:00am, and was running on caffeine.
This came put WAY sillier than I intended, but you know….
Let Me Help
The knock sounded through the small apartment, which was drenched with a cool blue light cast by the sun's meeting with the powder blue curtains.
Barely audible over the bustling of the chef in the kitchen, they went unnoticed until the visitor virtually pounded with the intention of breaking down the door.
Mohinder stood beginning to become frustrated at Peter's failure to answer, when the door he had abused came swinging opened, he began forming his words to greet the Petrelli, but the phrase died in his throat as he stood face to face with Sylar.
"Where is Peter?" the doctor asked cautiously, eyeing the man before him.
Sylar took and inviting step back and grinned devilishly, "I'll go get him."
Mohinder stepped in, half expecting a disaster zone, and quite shocked to find a barren waste land, where even the dust bunnies were homeless.
His attention was stolen when a loud crash came from the room which Sylar had entered, he prepared himself for anything, but relaxed when Peter emerged from the dimly lit area. The Petrelli's eyes seemed to be on fire, and he seemed barely capable of holding himself. He wore a T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, and when he caught sight of Suresh he blatantly put on a deep frown.
Sylar put out two chairs and seemed elated at the occasion. Mohinder wondered what buisiness the bastard had in Peter's apartment and why Peter looked like hell at 9 in the afternoon.
The Paramedic seemed to be less than surprised at the presence of a psychotic killer, so Mohinder decided maybe Peter had gone off the Deep end as well, yet he remained, knowing if he left and his hypothesis was correct, he would probably be splattered across the walls and ceiling.
So, he took a seat in the chair provided across from his friend who seemed to be staring into space.
"Peter," He leaned forward and began, "Perhaps we can discuss this somewhere more private."
He was given an exhausted expression in return, and so he simply sat back, "Well I guess here is ok…"
Mohinder was not sure if Peter had fallen asleep with his eyes opened or if he was staring at him expectantly, so he prayed it was the latter and continued.
"I just wanted to discuss how you were dealing with the effect of Claire's exposure, I truly need some one too-"
He was cut off when loud smashing noise came from the kitchen followed by a 'Clankity Clankity' 'Dunsht Dunsht'
Mohinder watched as Peter's eyes widened in horror and held the temple of his head, then screamed at the top of his lung "Gabe stop making so much racket or God help me-!"
The noise only increased, and Suresh covered his ears, when the sound of metal crashing, clanging, and banging augmented in volume and intensity. Peter seemed to be suffering the most, and began choking on what the doctor presumed were tears.
"God Damn it!" The Paramedic cried, and wandered over to a small end table Mohinder had not noticed, on top of it stood a bottle tequila and lemon rinds. Peter grabbed the bottle and threw it into the kitchen causing an earsplitting crash.
He made his way back and then focused his uninterested gaze back on the doctor, "Can we not talk about this?" he offered.
Mohinder stared at him in confusion, 'Clankity Clankity' 'Dunsht Dunsht' sounded once more and Peter grabbed his skull in pain. Mohinder closed his eyes and stood angrily.
He burst into the kitchen, where the noise had come from, and found Sylar sitting at the small table for two, looking more than pleased, and holding two metal pot lids. At his feet was a large stew pot, and remnants of the shattered bottle of alcohol. The man seemed to have stopped when Mohinder had entered, but after giving his guest recognition, he continued on to make his melody of 'Clankity Clankity' 'Dunsht Dunsht'
Mohinder held his head and decided to be damned with Sylar's abilities, "DESIST! Peter is throwing a fit, I am trying to convey an important message which you are so cordially interrupting!"
Sylar paused, "Well, I am sorry that I am interrupting you, but I have a deal to uphold."
Then continued with his noise, and shouted happily, "If your hungry there's eggs, sausages and waffles on the stove."
Mohinder stared at him and slowly backed out of the kitchen, as Peter yelled bitterly, "OK! God I get it!"
Finally having enough Suresh screamed, "Are you MAD? There is a deranged killer in your kitchen serving waffles and making a cacophony of horrendous proportions, and you simply sit here and scream?"
The noise ceased and Sylar came into the room, still holding the lids, "It's his fault really." He stated, punctuating his statement with a 'Clankity-Dunsht '.
Peter whimpered and glared daggers at the taller man with the pot lids, "I get your point damn it!"
Mohinder stared at the two, Sylar holding the lids was ridiculous in itself, but Peter being hung over and begging for him to stop making noise was pathetic.
So, he did what any sane person would do, he left, and fast, if he ended up splattered somewhere it was worth escaping the mad house. He would talk to Matt about the condition of the world, it was much safer than that asylum.
Peter's angry gaze stayed focused on Sylar who still held the lids, the taller man sat in the chair which Suresh had vacated and leaned forward, "So, what does this teach you?"
The paramedic narrowed his gaze, "That your insane, evil, and have no sense of decency."
Sylar smiled, "I told you you'd regret not letting me help, you should have just taken my regeneration when you got sick, instead of trying to chase it away with alcohol and giving yourself a hangover from hell."
"You didn't have to add the lids…" He glared.
But the taller man just smiled, "Yeah but it sure scared the hell out of Mohinder."
A/N:
I know some people (Who are of age) who drink Tequila to chase away the cold, other than that, I have no clue where the hell this story came from, I really wanted to write a heart to heart discussion but this came out…. This story is way too long for its own good…
Well Sylar has to be Evil somehow… oh and if your curious, in my universe, Peter and Sylar do not officially live together but Sylar is constantly visiting and crashing at his place…
Thank You so much for reading this~!
With every review, a Dust Bunny gets a home….
If You Flame We Will Have a Bonfire and Make S'mores,
I'll Bring The Marshmallows.
(This has been 1315 words from Phronima's Power)