iamsylar | Practice (XMFC-verse)

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Practice (XMFC-verse)

Sylar waited for Charles out by the old barn where he'd told him they'd meet. To work on his abilities, nothing else.

He wasn't about to let Charles know that he didn't really need help controlling his powers. He could do more with his telekinesis than Charles would want to know about, and now there was the ice. It was a simple power that he'd picked up while Charles had sent him away, but it could be useful.

The power at the base of it all, though. The only one he'd been born with... If it could be controlled, he didn't want to know how.

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"You're not that stupid." Sylar got up, pulling up his pants. He didn't look at Charles. He was too angry. "I don't know why you think I'd believe you're as stupid as you act with me."

Because everyone else does, Charles thought, looking up at the ceiling.

"I don't know what it is you want from this, Sylar," and that much was true, he knew. "I can't give you what you want if I don't know what it is."

"Oh, so when the stupid act fails, go for the altruistic act." Sylar shakes his head and turns to face Charles. "Look, I can be the guy you're fucking who you think you're too good to be fucking. Just don't expect me to be polite about it when you run away to be respectable again."

Charles didn't even have a response for that, which was rather terrifying. He had a response for everything, but instead he just opened and closed his mouth a few times before huffing out a breath.

"Fine, do what you want," he said finally. "I don't care."

"Well, that's pretty obvious." Sylar smiled tightly. It occurred to him that he was mostly arguing at this point to keep Charles around a bit longer. He tilted his head. "I wonder what you do care about."

Charles smiled back at him, easy and dangerous.

"If you have to ask, you're missing the point," he said, tapping his nose. "But I really must be going. Wonderful progress today, Sylar." Charles walked backward as he said this, moving towards the large doors.

"Thank you, Professor," Sylar said evenly, tense with controlled anger.

"Yes, yes, but do try to work on some control elements whilst I'm gone, the ice is a bit sloppy as of right now," Charles made sure to add before pushing his way through the doors and striding across the grounds back to the mansion.

Sylar stood in the barn, clenching and unclenching his fist. After a few minutes, he walked outside. He slammed the doors shut telekinetically and pressed his hand against it. It took some concentration, but he froze the entire building.

Then, he 'practiced' his telekinesis until there wasn't a barn left standing anymore.

As Charles helped Sean with his training, he thought he heard crashing in the distance, but he shook his head and blocked it out. It wouldn't be helpful to their training session if Charles didn't have his head in the game.

Later, however, when he found out that the crashing had actually been Sylar destroying the barn Charles' Great-Grandfather built with his bare hands, well, Charles was less than pleased, to say the least. He searched Sylar out in the mansion, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him into the empty study.

"You destroyed my barn?" Charles said, practically seething with rage.

Sylar arched an eyebrow, only half-heartedly trying to conceal a smirk. "I was practicing."

Charles could have hit him. He wanted to, he wanted nothing more than to feel the sting of Sylar's face on the back of his hand. He didn't, but that didn't keep him from projecting the image to Sylar.

"Do you know how childish you are? Destroying a barn because I wouldn't cuddle with you? Ridiculous."

"Oh." Sylar frowned sarcastically. "You don't really think that's why, do you?"

Sylar was infuriating. Charles had never met anyone who was able to make him this angry with so little effort. Not even Erik. Usually Charles was patient and kind and understanding, but with Sylar things were just...different.

"Then why would you do it?" Charles asked, biting back harsh words.

Sylar shrugged, enjoying how easy it was to get under Charles' skin. "I felt like it."

Charles closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before doing anything. He realized vaguely, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he was shaking with anger, but he just didn't know what to do with it.

"Did you?" he responded quietly. "Did you also feel like leaving?"

"Hm, leaving a place where I'm treated like a shameful secret, a piece of garbage? Of course not. It's like a second home." Sylar's voice was calm, but his heart was thumping with adrenaline and fear. As awful as Charles always made him feel, he was the only person who made him feel anything anymore that wasn't violent. Or, at least, not as violent.

"I do not treat you like garbage," Charles spat at him, very nearly stepping forward to push him. "I bring you into my home to help you, and you say I treat you like garbage? What do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you in front of the children? Because I assure you, it is on their request that I don't, not some agenda to keep you locked away."

Sylar couldn't help it; he laughed in Charles' face. "God, you're so full of shit, Charles. It's really kind of impressive."

"And you're pathetic, Gabriel," Charles responded calmly, his voice hard. "I put up with your games before because your power was something I hadn't seen, but now I have seen it, and I really don't need to see anymore. You can pack your things and leave in the morning. Don't make me yell you twice."

Slowly, Sylar's smile faded into a cold, blank expression. "You don't know anything about my power. You don't know what I need. You don't care; you're too busy fucking me, because your boyfriend got boring." He narrowed his eyes. "And my name is Sylar."

"Is it? I could have sworn it was Gabriel," Charles taunted. How he'd gone from terrified of Sylar to prodding him fearlessly was beyond him. Perhaps he was simply that angry.

"I am Sylar." Without thinking, Sylar flicked his wrist and threw Charles into the wall. He blinked at him, his eyes glassy. He took a few steps away from him and ran his fingers into his hair.

His breath was shallow, panicky. He wasn't supposed to hurt Charles. He'd been sure that he wouldn't.

Charles felt all his breath leave him as he hit the wall, and he had no doubt that someone would have heard the thud, but he doubted anyone would come running. Charles could take care of himself, and he knew they all thought so.

He leaned against the wall, trying to regain his breath. "Sylar," he said, done with the taunting. "Look at me."

Sylar looked at Charles. He hadn't hurt him badly, but he had hurt him. He could've done a lot worse.

He wants to say he didn't mean to do it, but in that moment. he did.

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