A/N: Since I didn't clarify this in the earlier chapters, I don't own Jurassic Park, Star Wars, Indiana Jones, James Bond, Lord of the Rings, or Titanic.
"Manda?" Jason's eyes were wide. Even Christopher looked amazed. "As in Manda Cressidy?"
Ava nodded. "She's gotten too close."
Sylar, uncertain of exactly who they were talking about, went along with it anyway. "So what should we do?"
"The only one thing we can do." Dawn answered. "We run."
"Much as I hate to admit it…" Ava sighed deeply, shaking her head. "She's right. Now that Cressidy knows we're here, it's only a matter of time before the Company finds us."
"But where would we go?" Christopher asked, worry shining in his eyes.
Ava bit her lip, concentrating. Sylar noticed Jason's eyebrows shoot up as he turned to the Pyrokinetic, for once not disguising his ability. He said nothing, however, and only Sylar's keen eyes caught the gesture.
"I'd planned for this." Ava admitted. "I have a few… well, a few properties in false names, scattered here and there. If the Company finds one, they likely won't find another. There's one a few states from here; Dawn can run us over there." She turned to Dawn. "If there's no objections…?"
"None." Dawn's eyes were dark and somber. Sylar felt his blood freeze. There was something in her expression that terrified him. Perhaps it was the fact that, for the first time since he'd met her, Dawn looked truly afraid.
"This would have been a lot easier if Scarface had stayed…" Sylar mumbled. It earned him a few strange looks, but he didn't explain. Ava ignored him.
"Right." Ava said, her voice brisk as she sorted through everything in her mind. "Take Jason first. And Christopher, if you can."
Dawn nodded, taking each of their hand. "Where to?"
Ava was about to answer, but Jason stopped her.
"Wait." He held up a hand. "If Manda knew where we were, then maybe the house could be bugged." Ava nodded once, though it sounded a little paranoid to Sylar. Either way, Ava wrote the address on a slip of paper and handed it to the speedster. Dawn read it quickly and nodded, before racing away.
Ava sighed, looking much older suddenly, her amber eyes sinking into dark circles. She fell back into her chair, seeming exhausted. "She'll be back for us eventually."
"Eventually." Sylar conceded darkly. "And until then? Do we just wait for the Company to knock on our door?"
She shot him a weary, exasperated look before turning away again.
"Look, Gloves." Sylar snapped. "I'm not just going to stay here until they bring someone more powerful than this 'Manda' character."
Ava barked out a laugh. "More powerful? Where have you been the last thirty years?" She shook her head. "She is the Company's most powerful agent. Case closed."
He hesitated, then sat down next to her. She was picking at the frayed edges of her gloves nervously, re-singeing them when necessary. He crossed his arms over his chest, quietly mulling over her words. But his eyes kept going to her glowing fingers, the flames that she commanded…
Dawn wasn't here. Neither were Christopher and Jason.
Ava was alone.
He could kill her. Here. Now. Without problem or hesitation. He'd have to leave, true, but still, it would be done. He would be Pyrokinetic.
It was only after he'd made his decision that he noticed Ava watching him out of the corner of her eye. As he looked to her, her head tilted to the side.
"You want to kill me."
"I always want to kill you."
"True." She turned away. "You're going to try now, aren't you?"
"I'm thinking about it."
She chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you are."
"If I do," He pointed out. "You'll lose."
"Possibly." She shrugged. "But not before I beat the shit out of you."
He grinned. "You know, Gloves, you're not so bad."
"Neither are you, when you're not trying to rip someone's head off." She studied him for a moment, then shook her head. "Nah. You're pretty bad."
His smile stretched for a moment, then faded. "I probably should kill you. Put you out of my misery."
"You probably should." She raised her eyebrows. "But you're not going to, are you?"
He didn't know what to say. At that moment, he'd decided. It wouldn't be in his interests to kill her yet. Not when the Company had found his location. Not when he needed allies. Not when there were too many unknowns.
They stayed in silence for a very long time; in fact, it was only when Dawn came in through the doorway that he finally replied.
"No."
Ava smiled slightly, standing and walking over to Dawn. She took one of the speedster's hands, and Sylar took the other.
And then they were gone.
Two hours later, the Company arrived.
"Safe at last," Dawn muttered sarcastically, falling down on the couch, spilling over the cushions and picking up a remote to the ancient TV. She looked completely exhausted; across state-trips were easy enough, but with two people in tow it wasn't the most simple of tasks.
The five of them had already claimed rooms in Ava's safe house, with Ava back in the basement. The Pyrokinetic and the speedster were the only two people outside of their rooms at the moment; the other three were unpacking what little stuff they had, rearranging furniture, etc.
"You know, Jason thought that one of you would be dead by the time I got there." Dawn said, her beady eyes landing on Ava.
"I'm sure he did," Ava answered coldly, picking at her nails.
Dawn waited for her to elaborate. When she didn't, Dawn sighed and prodded, "So what did happen?"
Ava shrugged. "We had a talk. We both hate each other. We both want to kill each other. It'll happen one day, but today just wasn't it." She rolled her eyes. "Hopefully it'll be soon. I'm starting to get tired of him."
Dawn snorted, turning back to the television. Finding nothing good on, she resorted to a small book sitting on the stand next to the couch. Ava, however, simply sat where she was, absent-mindedly drawing pictures out of flames. They were quiet for a while, then Dawn piped up, "You know, it's strange."
The flames died on Ava's hands. "What is?"
"Just…" Dawn hesitated, then went on, "Sylar had every chance of killing us all right after we escaped. He could have lied to us, told us he had a different ability than he did. He could have left then and there. But he didn't." She paused again, the words hovering on her lips but not daring to make themselves known.
"True." Ava answered, raising her shoulders and letting them fall back down again. "But that doesn't mean anything. He could just be waiting. Biding his time." Her amber eyes drifted to the hallway, as though expecting Sylar to emerge from his room and attack at that exact moment. "He's very… patient."
"Except he flew you here, Ava." Dawn said, pursuing the words she'd been holding back. "He could have left you there. He didn't know about your ability; you were just 'someone else'. Who knows?" She slowly twirled her knife, around and around, in her hands. "There's something different about him. Different from the others with intuitive aptitude. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I think…"
"Think what?" Ava turned to her, anticipating the speedster's words and bristling. "That he should be trusted? That he won't turn on us the first chance he gets? That he'll betray his nature?"
Dawn sighed. "It was just a thought, Ava. And I'm not quite that idiotic." Her eyes drifted out the window. "I just don't think we should provoke him."
Ava snorted.
"Yet." Dawn amended. Ava said nothing, folding her arms over her chest. An amber flame was burning on her shoulder, blazing brightly as she stewed over Dawn's words, her own experiences.
"Maybe." She said at last. "Or maybe he's just another murderer."
Sylar was in his room, slamming his fists into the walls, sending electricity crackling across the paint, devouring the colors, leaving behind a desolate black scorch mark in its wake. There were many of these marks in his room now, and he had to admit that he preferred it this way. He dug his fingers into the concrete, scraping off the skin and causing blood to stain them. The room looked like a war zone, but it was far better than the plain, sickly green color they had been.
It took him a moment to hear the heartbeat of the person standing behind him, and less to figure out whom it belonged to; there was only one person in the house with a heart that small.
He turned around. Jason was leaning in the doorframe, his shoulder pressed against the wall, his arms folded, his eyes unwavering from Sylar's. Carefully, he stood up straight, entered the room entirely, and sat down on one of the chairs. Sylar sat opposite of him, eyeing the child warily.
"I'm surprised at you, Sylar," Jason said slowly, coolly. "I expected much less."
Sylar's hands clenched into fists, but he forced his voice to remain neutral and steady as he replied, "Well, I'm full of surprises."
Jason's lip quirked upwards. "Sometimes," he admitted. "And sometimes, you're just the person I expect you to be."
There was silence for a long time; Sylar fidgeted under Jason's steely gaze.
"Why didn't you kill her, Sylar?" Jason spoke up at last.
Sylar quirked an eyebrow, forcing himself to sit tall, to tower over the child. "Are you complaining?"
"No."
"Then why ask?"
"Because it's more polite than snatching it out of your mind, as I've already done." Jason pointed out, then stood, turning towards the door. "We have nothing further to discuss."
Just as he was about to leave, Sylar's hand whipped out and caught him by the wrist. "Don't turn your back on me." The serial killer said coldly, standing up. He looked down at the boy with disdain. "Tell me if you know, because I have no idea why I didn't just rip her head off. I could have. I should have."
Jason didn't even bother to take his hand away from Sylar; he simply stared the man in the eye. A pounding, piercing headache flared behind his temples, and Sylar stumbled back, dropping to the ground, clutching his head in his hands.
Jason took a step towards him, looking down icily at the helpless man. "You can't answer that question for yourself?" He asked, quietly, walking around Sylar slowly, keeping his mental hold on him tight and agonizing.
Sylar shook slightly, pulling himself to his feet, staring Jason in the eye through the pain. "Because I don't know who she is." He replied, his voice shaking. "And what those gloves are."
Jason smiled, turning away and walking to the door. "You know, if you keep saying it, maybe you'll end up believing it." He hesitated in the doorway, one hand holding him to the doorframe. He glanced over his shoulder. "But you and I both know the truth, Sylar."
"What truth is that?" Sylar demanded, unable to help himself.
Jason's smile widened. "You remember her."
And with that, he was gone, disappearing into his own room, leaving Sylar behind to his blackened thoughts.
Ava lay back on her mattress, staring up at the blank ceiling. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see through the roof and out to the Company, to the one thing she still cared about. It was infuriating, not knowing what was happening, never knowing if the last thing she knew and loved was long gone, or if there was still hope…
She sighed, accepting the fact that this was going to be a very long night. No matter how powerful she was, no matter how badly Sylar wanted to kill her for it, she wasn't nearly powerful enough to find and save the one thing that still mattered.
There was a gentle knock on the door. Ava placed her arm over her eyes, not wanting to move. She heard the door squeak quietly as it opened.
"Can I come in?"
The voice was so quiet, so gentle. Ava sat up like a shot, her eyes narrowing on the silhouetted head in the doorway. She knew the voice, but the tone was completely unexpected.
She hesitated for a moment, then answered, "Sure."
Sylar walked in and closed the door behind him; Ava sent an enormous ball of orange flame to the ceiling, a miniature sun to light the room. He sat down on the floor without asking, directly across from where she sat on the mattress, her hands folded in her lap.
He smiled a little sadly, a little warily. Ava fixed him with an unwavering, unblinking amber stare.
"Relax, Gloves," he said after a moment, then followed his own advice and leaned back on his hands, looking up at the ceiling. "I'm not here to hurt you."
Ava gave him a who-the-hell-do-you-think-you're-kidding smirk, her head tilting to the side. Even Sylar couldn't help but laugh once, very quietly, at the idiosyncrasy of his words.
"All right, all right," he admitted. "I get it, you don't trust me. And you have good reason." He sighed and sat back up, looking her directly in the eye. "But, just for a moment, could we forget all that?"
He sounded so exhausted. Ava could not help the flash of pity for the killer, even if it was cleared away by reason in only a moment. He just seemed so genuine, so completely and utterly… defeated. The feeling only intensified as he continued.
"I mean, we both want to kill each other, and there's nothing we can do about it. That's it, it's over. But, just this once, can't we just… I don't know. Talk?" He shrugged, his voice ancient and weary. "Without all of the threats, without all of the poking and prodding and trying to figure each other out. Just… ignore everything."
Ava raised a single eyebrow, looking down at him. "You'd have a lot more luck with one of the others than with me, Sy." She said honestly, brusquely.
Sylar snorted, rolling his dark eyes and leaning back on his hands again. "As if!" He groaned. "They've been driving me crazy all day." His voice took on a high-pitched, childish mocking quality. "'Why didn't you kill Ava? Is it possible that you don't want to kill her? Maybe there's something good in you after all!'" He said the last words with the utmost venom, spitting onto the ground in disgust. "They don't give up!"
Ava nodded, for once understanding exactly how he felt. "They've been on me like that, too. 'Well maybe we should give him a chance. Maybe he's not that bad. Maybe it's just you being biased!'" She barked out a cruel and mirthless laugh. "As-bloody-if. You're a killer, I hate you, case closed."
He laughed at that, looking back to her face. His smile was incredibly infectious, and almost, uncharacteristically… kind. Or, at the very least, without sarcasm or spite. Ava couldn't help but laugh with him, if only quietly.
After a moment, the two of them fell silent again. Ava had to admit, even she was starting to grow tired of the constant battling, the struggle to make your every move perfect, to never show weakness or injury or fault. She supposed it was possible that Sylar felt the same way; but she'd never really thought of them as anywhere near 'similar' before, in any respect. She supposed that was a little close-minded of her; after all, they were the same species, and even specials grew weary of running all the time, no matter what they were running from. And right now, they were so busy eluding the Company's grasp that they were only making it difficult on themselves by having to run from each other as well.
Ava turned to Sylar; he'd been watching her carefully as she'd come to this conclusion. He was perfectly still and silent, letting her think it out for herself. Seeing that her train of thought had ended, he pulled back the earlier conversation, continuing as though it had never stopped. "It's not as though I'll ever be able to ignore how much I want your ability." He looked completely relaxed and casual, as though he was discussing something of no more consequence than the weather.
"And I'll never be able to forget that," Ava agreed, nodding. "Why can't they just understand that we're never going to trust each other?"
He nodded as well, actually falling into the conversation. "And that the only real outcome is that one of us is going to kill the other?"
"Honestly!" Ava threw up her hands in exasperation. It was shallow, frilly talk. It was something they both knew, and perhaps the only thing they had in common; that the others in this house just didn't understand it the way they did. But the conversation itself didn't matter; the fact that they were actually speaking to each other did.
Sylar grinned, and they lapsed into silence again. After a moment, he spoke up. "You know, everything aside, it is very impressive."
Ava didn't need any further explanation- or the gesture he made to the brilliant ball of flame on the ceiling- to know what he was talking about. What else would it be? She looked down to her gloved hands, flicking her fingers into life. A small, maroon inferno sparked on them, lighting up the room even further, the colors clashing.
She wasn't exactly sure how to react to his statement. Had it been any other time, she would have shot a death glare in his direction and possibly tried to kill him. But no; this time, she simply replied, "Thanks."
He nodded once, masking his shock that she was actually speaking to him civilly. Even Ava was slightly surprised by her tone.
"I suppose I should say something nice in return, but honestly, I can't think of anything." A smile quirked the edge of her lip upwards. Sylar rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
"Well, hey, I'm not bad looking." He said with a wink.
Ava laughed at that- a real laugh, unlike the ones before, which had been very slightly forced. It was shockingly loud in the small basement, and Sylar's thick eyebrows shot up. But Ava kept laughing, enjoying the feeling for the few brief moments she could.
Sylar grinned, relaxing even further, leaning back again but keeping his eyes on her. Ava finally joined him, resting her head against the wall by the mattress. "Arrogant much?" She asked, her lips spread wide in an unreserved smile.
He shrugged, and Ava laughed again.
Once more, they fell into silence. Once more, Sylar started the conversation again.
"I get it, you know." His voice was very quiet, near silence. "How you don't want to talk about anything with anyone. Because it'll be used against you." He sighed, his eyes on the ceiling again, shining in the light of the brilliant miniature sun. "After all, hasn't it been used against you before?"
Despite the fact that she knew he was no longer talking about her, but himself, Ava felt a shiver run down her back at the complete accuracy of his statement. Her past had been used against her more times than she could count. She'd long ago learned not to trust people with such information; it only destroyed you in the end.
"I killed my mother."
It was so unexpected, so jarring, that Ava's eyes whipped to Sylar's face. It was as though time itself had literally stopped moving. Her heart had completely halted, and her skin started to crawl as she looked at him. He was looking back, his dark eyes smoldering as he studied her, waiting for her reaction. She swallowed, ready to speak, but he got there first.
"It was an accident." He looked down. "I think."
Ava raised an eyebrow. She pushed back the first vicious comments that sprang to her lips and cleared her throat. When she finally spoke, it was in an even, measured tone. "You 'think'?"
He smiled ruefully, catching the smaller, crueler layers of her tone but in no way blaming her for it. "She came at me with a pair of scissors. I was trying to keep them away from me, from her, but…"
"It backfired," Ava filled in, nodding. She didn't need to hear the rest of the story. She got it completely; she'd seen it before.
"Bingo," he said, pointing a finger at her, a teacher pointing out a student who'd gotten an answer correct and exceeded his expectations. Perhaps a little less patronizing. "But there are times when I wonder… what if something different happened? What would I have ended up doing? Would I have killed her anyway, just to get her out of the way? And, if that was the case, what's to say I didn't mean to drive those scissors through her heart?" The words were all completely matter-of-fact, but his eyes betrayed him. She could see him searching her face, hawkish, trying to find some sort of kindness or pity in her face.
Ava was sorely tempted to do what was natural; scream at him until she was red in the face, until they were both at each other's throats again, her hands flaming and his eyes glowing with power. Battling until he was incinerated or her head had been sawed off. It would be so simple; deny the man what he wanted, what he thought he needed; forgiveness, in the only form she could give.
Another, far smaller part of her was considering the other option; telling him that it was all right, that it was an accident and that he couldn't blame himself for what didn't happen. Ava started a nervous fire-she could tell it was nerves because it was a bright red, supposedly the opposite of fear. It worked, too. Sylar was eyeing the crimson flames warily, wondering what hideous anger had caused it. But Ava was thinking too hard about her decision to pay any real attention to the man who had just confessed everything to her.
In the end, she chose the third way out. "Why tell me this? Why me? Why now?"
"Why not?" An eyebrow raised; he was putting up the façade again. For some reason, Ava was already mourning the Sylar she'd known for only a few moments; the genuine man who actually felt something that wasn't the insatiable hunger for her death. Desperate to cling to that man, she stopped him from going any further.
"Dammit, Sylar, you said you'd just talk," She was unable to keep the irritation from her tone. She extinguished the flames quickly, with a wild and angry gesture, afraid of how large they'd grow, afraid of losing the conversation altogether. She wondered why she was doing this; to glean information on her enemy, perhaps? To turn his past against him? No, that would be petty and… well, just like her captors had been. She refused to sink to that level if she could help it.
Sylar, frustrated with her annoyance, turned away, glaring at the ground. This was going nowhere fast. "You're picking at scabs, Ava, and…"
"You brought it up," she pointed out, a finality in her voice that could not be challenged. Sylar opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again, his teeth making a little clacking noise. He thought about that for a moment, then sighed, returning to his previous weary state.
"You're right," He admitted, then again, "You're right, you're right." He threw up his hands, surrendering, then dropped them into his lap again. "Of course you're right," he smiled dryly. "You have to be."
"Don't push it, brain boy." Ava said with narrowed eyes. Instead of being insulted by the… well, the insult, Sylar just smiled and closed his eyes.
"Relax, Gloves," he said, for possibly the fiftieth time since he'd met her. She rolled her eyes, trying to remain good-natured. She had to admit, it was a struggle, even if she'd gotten along relatively well with him only moments earlier.
"But you're right; I brought it up." He sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes again. "I don't know why I told you, Ava. I just did." He opened his eyes and looked down at his hands, which he started wringing in his lap. "I guess I'm just tired of everything being a lie; the way I talk, the way I act, every single little movement or gesture. None of it is real. And sometimes… I'm not either."
Ava mulled that over for a minute and realized that it was something she could identify with. She knew that feeling; sometimes you were one person, and others you were someone else. Eventually, you lost yourself into the masks you wore. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, unsure of exactly what to say, before finally deciding on, "I guess we have something in common."
They were silent for a long time. So long, in fact, that Ava closed her eyes, and Sylar believed she'd fallen asleep. But when he stood, they reopened, brilliant pools of liquid gold that shone in the flame's light. There was something horribly familiar about those eyes. It wasn't the eyes themselves-he'd surely remember if he'd seen them before- but rather in the feeling behind them. The intense gaze that never let up. The actual kindness hidden beneath layers of hatred and pain.
"Good night, Ava," he said very politely.
"Good night, Sylar," She answered, her tone exactly matching his. As he crossed the room and opened the door, she added, "I still hate you."
He grinned, turning to her. Her otherwise emotionless face registered a small smile. "I still hate you too."
He left in silence.
A/N: So sorry for the extremely late update! Honestly, I had this written ages ago, but I was going to make it longer before I posted it. Seeing as that's not going to happen for a while, I decided to suck it up and post it anyway. But I'm sorry it took me so long; I haven't really been on FF in… well, almost a year. I'm determined to be on here more often from now on, and I'm really sorry for keeping anyone who is still reading this waiting. (All one of you!) Forgive me?
I promise that next update will not take this long. It might take a while, as I'm trying to update almost all of my older stories, while also getting a few newer ones online. Hopefully, and with a lot of luck, it'll be up within the next week or two. Just bear with me, guys. Thanks!