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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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.

"I'm sorry I called you by the other name," He said, unsure of whether or not hearing it again would make Sylar even angrier. He reached out a hand to him. "Come here."

Sylar didn't understand why Charles would ask him to come closer after he'd done something like that, but he wasn't going to argue. He went to him and pulled him into his arms to hug him tightly, as much to comfort himself as to apologize.

Perhaps Charles was backtracking, trying to make Sylar forget how he'd just taunted him on purpose as to not get hurt again. It was self-preservation, of a sort, but Charles did not stop to think about the long term effects of his actions. He just let Sylar hug him and wrapped his arms around him, squeezing slightly.

"Please don't make me leave. You don't know what happens to me when I'm gone." Sylar pulled back to look at him. "I can't control it without you."

"You don't have to leave." Charles reached up, putting a hand to his face. "You don't have to go. You can stay at the mansion."

Sylar closed his eyes and leaned against Charles' hand for a moment. Not for long, though. He drew away from Charles crossing his arms, not looking at him directly. He dug his nails into his own arm. "I'm sorry about the barn. I got angry."

"It's alright," Charles chuckled in spite of himself. "I suppose it was a risk anyway. It was rather old. We'll have to find another place for you to train, though. Perhaps somewhere inside the mansion."

Sylar nodded, but his mind was racing. Did he want to stay close to the mansion so they wouldn't be alone again? He ignored the thought. He didn't want to be pathetic and needy just because he'd made a couple of mistakes today. It was over now, and Charles wasn't pushing him away completely.

"It's just control. I just need to work on control. I can do the rest."

Charles thought Sylar wanted to be closer to the mansion, that he wanted people to know what he was doing with Charles. (Well, some of what he was doing, at least.) They could be alone easily enough, all Charles had to do was plant it in the heads of the other members of the household not to come by where ever it was they were and- That wasn't the point. Charles nodded at Sylar, placing a hand on his arm.

"I know one day you'll be able to control this."

Charles' certainty made Sylar believe... or, perhaps he simply wanted to believe. He looked at Charles. Maybe it would be easier if he weren't exactly what Sylar wanted. He wouldn't have to worry about all this extra stuff. He could just disconnect from the world entirely. He could let the hunger take him over.

Maybe it would be easier, also, if Charles had any feelings for him. Sylar was pretty sure he didn't, but that didn't stop him from wanting it.

"It'd probably solve everything if I'd let you inside my head."

Charles blinked up at him. "If you- I can do that, if you'd like."

Sylar swallowed thickly. He wanted it. He wanted Charles to know all of it, and still let him stay. He couldn't be sure it would go that way, though. He couldn't be sure that it wouldn't destroy everything.

"If I let you, you have to promise you won't make me leave."

Charles wasn't sure he wanted to know what was in Sylar's head that badly. But Sylar seemed so intent on Charles knowing, and Charles didn't really want to upset him any more or put either of them in danger.

"Alright," he said slowly, nodding. "I won't make you leave."

Sylar furrowed his brow, not quite believing that. He touched Charles' face, brushing his thumb across his lips before he leaned down and gave him a brief kiss--just in case he wouldn't be allowed to do that again.

"Then go ahead."

Charles nodded, closing his eyes for the kiss and blinking them open again, examining Sylar's face. He took a deep breath and put a finger to his temple, letting himself inside of Sylar's mind.

A few moments later he gasped, staggering backwards into the wall. There had been so much blood, just like his nightmares. He put a hand to his chest, breathing deeply.

"Sylar," he started, but didn't know how to finish.

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