Title: Questions
Characters: Sylar, Peter Petrelli
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count: 600
Setting: The Wall
Summary: Sylar has grown tired of Peter asking him things all the time, but hasn't considered why Peter does it.
Peter set aside the guitar and looked to Sylar. Picking up the motion, Sylar looked up without thinking, meeting Peter's eyes. "So," Peter started, "I-"
"No!" Sylar said, making a defensive wave of his hand. "No more questions, Peter."
Peter tilted his head and made an exaggerated pout. Then he went right on talking while Sylar rolled his eyes at the futility of trying to make Peter do anything he wasn't already inclined to do. Peter said, "Earlier, you asked why I even cared what you thought. I think what you were really asking is, 'Do I care what you think?' The answer to that is pretty obvious. If I didn't care, then I wouldn't ask. I wouldn't ask you questions. I wouldn't ask your opinion or what you'd experienced."
Sylar frowned. Peter had yet to ask a question of him, which was remarkable, really.
Peter sighed. "I had your ability for a little while, so I know you can relate to why I care. Why I want to understand you. Why I want to know what motivates you, what drives you, your passions."
Sylar was still frowning. Grudgingly, he said, "I never cared about people's interests. Just about what made them tick."
"Okay," Peter said. "I'm not sure what the difference is." Sylar said nothing, lifting his brows a little and leaving it to Peter to carry the conversation. "But we agree on the rest. I can't understand you without knowing more about you."
Sylar glanced down at his book, then set it aside and gave Peter his full attention. His face was serious, but no longer unhappy, as he was surprised to find he was getting the explanation he needed.
Peter watched him right back for a few moments, then talked. "When I had your ability, I wasn't killing people to be special. Or even to get their ability. I was killing them to understand them. That's what I wanted – to pull their motivations out, to 'get' them, to finally get inside their skin, know why they did what they did and felt what they felt. I know people's feelings and it is so frustrating to not know where those are coming from. It's gotten to where I try to ignore it and just focus on one thing at a time." Peter gestured in front of himself. "Just whatever's in front of me. That person. That thing. Stay focused. Don't get distracted. Listen to myself. No one else. Tune them all out." He looked back to Sylar. "I used to have so many people in my life, so many people I cared about. And I was always … swimming in how they felt. Claude told me to forget all of that. But that was how I learned to use my ability – by thinking about the people whose powers I was using, or tapping into some mental representation of them." He pointed at his head, then chuckled bitterly. "Now I don't have anyone, but that just means I know what I've lost." He shrugged, melancholy now. He picked up the guitar again. "That's why. And that's why it's not going to go away just because you tell me no." Peter looked off into the distance for a moment, then settled the guitar and began strumming again.
Instead of picking up his book, Sylar watched, listened, and considered what he'd been told.