sirenspull | video;

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[ Sylar is just beginning to piece his life back together again, learn about his own abilities again. So even though there's been a murder today that he doesn't want attributed to him, he doesn't know enough about his life - prior to losing his memory, prior to spending several months being someone else - to not choose today to make his debut on the network.

His voice is a little uncertain still, his memories are all for the most part accumulated from objects, and they feel like they belong to someone else. In many ways he's still not sure who he is. But it's been two weeks. Long enough. And perhaps seeing some familiar faces will help. Or at least that was the idea, naive as it is. ]

I'm sorry to keep you all waiting. I'm back.

[ And that's it. ]

----

Private to Peter

[ His expression is much warmer in the video to Peter. There's even the edge of an uncharacteristic smile, although there's uncertainty too. ]

I want waffles, but I can't find where you keep the iron. Peter-- [ Just the briefest pause. ] --What is it that you do all day, when you're not here?

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You don't know your way around this kitchen at all, do you?

[ Sylar leaves the NV on the counter for a moment as he searches around the stove, and after a moment he finds it, placing it beside the device. Nathan had used it and put it back in the wrong place--it makes sense now. ]

I hoped that if you could tell me how you keep busy, I might get some idea of how to keep myself busy, too. There's nothing here but cats.

I've never really needed to use it. [ Peter's not looking at his own NV, though he's momentarily paused in his 'rounds', staring off down an alley. And yet, after a few seconds, he manages to look down again, eyes cast with forced disinterest. ]

What do you want to do? Kind of thought you'd had enough of looking around the city.

[ It's strange looking at Peter. He knows that he ought to know him very well - he's tripped over enough contained memories here to be very aware of that - but it's still like looking at a stranger. With time it could get easier, but what he wants? Is to get his mind back. He's not sure a video conversation is a great place to air that particular preoccupation. ]

More than enough. But there must be something? A job or a hobby? I'm not sure.

You can't think of anything?

You kept busy. [ Peter shrugs, not really sure how to be anything but vague because his mind keeps telling him that Sylar should remember who he is all on his own. And as badly as Peter keeps trying to be helpful, all he does is feel more lost every time he tries to fix it.

And so he carries on, a second later teleporting to the rooftop of a building, quietly pulling out his handheld police scanner. ]

Talked to people, went out for coffee. You slept in late after I left.

[ It's unhelpful, and half of him is frustrated enough at the chasm of not knowing to just ask Peter to tell him everything, but even if he did, he's not sure Peter can, or that it would actually help to fix his mind. It'd just be more things he didn't remember doing, a person he didn't remember being, and it was almost as unbearable.

He watches quietly. ]

It's difficult to imagine anyone wanting to go out for coffee with me.

[ Peter shrugs -- a helpless motion more than anything because he knows that's true. But he also knows everything that Gabriel doesn't, and he knows far too much for both of them to handle. Which is why he's saying barely anything at all. ]

I did. [ Leaning up against the roof's edge, he sets the scanner down, clicking it on and quickly swirling the volume dial to low. ]

You were convincing. You've always been.

[ It doesn't really matter how low the dial is. He can hear it as though Peter didn't dial it down at all. When his attention returns to Peter, the sound fades into background noise again. ]

I don't remember.

[ It's become almost a mantra now. He shakes his head as though that might help--it doesn't, and lowers the NV slightly. ]

But I must have been, otherwise I can't imagine why you'd stay.

[ Peter quiets, again, setting his NV on the ledge to his other side before peering downward, mulling over words he's gone over what feels like hundreds of times now in no time at all.

He knows Sylar doesn't remember, but he's starting to wonder if maybe that's a good thing. ]

I've already told you, it's more complicated than that. I've stayed for a lot of reasons.

Reasons that, maybe if I knew them--

[ He stops. Maybe if he knew them, he could remember. Maybe if he knew them, he might be able to get to know Peter better. But it'd be false, like the memories that lay in wait around the apartment, so false that if he reflected them to Peter, it would only bring him pain. ]

He helped you to find out who you were. I only want the same thing.

I know.

[ The second he says it, Peter feels bad, cringing after the ringing of the words in his own mind. He knows that Gabriel... Sylar wants to find out who he is, and he knows that he's the only person who can help, but the complications are enough to unwind him completely. ]

I know that's all you want, I just-- I don't know how to bring you back. I don't even know if you'll want to be if you get your memories back. [ It's not like he hasn't already said this once or twice and he nudges around the police scanner, chattering quietly about a possible home invasion. ]

[ The words do ring in the silence, but only because Sylar doesn't interrupt them, and for a moment he just sits in quiet, even when Peter replies. He doesn't know if he wants to be himself now, even without getting his actual memories back. Most of the ones he finds are bad enough. Knowing that he's a criminal, a murderer--it's difficult. But all he can do otherwise is dwell on those things, resent them, hate himself, and it's driving him mad. He doesn't want to be someone new if it means constantly worrying about who he really is. Besides which, he can see how rough it is on Peter ]

Being me again would be better than not knowing who I am. You can't imagine what it's like to see yourself and yet not be you.

[ Well actually... ]

I'm sorry. What about since I've got nothing better to do I try and find someone to help? Hypnosis, regression therapy; something like that?

Edited 2012-08-20 23:50 (UTC)

You don't have anything to be sorry for, not about this. But going to someone else for hypnosis probably isn't a good idea.

[ Admittedly, Peter wouldn't want Sylar to go to anyone else for help, no matter the type of therapy. Sylar's his, as much as he's Sylar's; that fact hasn't changed, and yet Peter doesn't know if he can manage to fix this himself. He simply doesn't want anyone else involved, if only because he doesn't know how to let anyone else in anymore.

Now that Nathan's gone, his ties to the outside world are dissolving and finally Peter looks back towards his NV, tentative at best. ]

You really want this? Everything back?

[ No, not a good idea. Especially since all the pamphlets and internet ads he's been looking at are funded by SERO. Even if he wasn't a known criminal.

But he's had a long time to think about it, and the emptiness is unbearable. The question doesn't have room for shades of gray; it's yes or no. It doesn't matter if Peter thinks he can be a better man without his own past, because right now being without a past means that he doesn't feel much like a man at all, only a hollow shell, being able to see and touch things without actually feeling them; the only living thing in a still life. ]

I don't have anything, Peter. My names don't feel like they're mine. This life. You. I'd rather take the good with the bad than have nothing at all.

You don't have nothing. [ It's not aggressive or angry or frustrated, all Peter is, is quiet.

Peering back over the edge of the building, Peter has half a mind to push his police scanner over the edge, just to watch it fall, explode on the ground below. He knows what it's like to feel lost without your memories, and he knows what it's like to just feel lost. What he doesn't understand, is why he can't tell Sylar about the man he used to be, and why he's just so terrified that it'll mean he'll lose him all over again. ]

I'll help, okay? [ Still not looking at his NV, Peter runs a hand back through his hair, trying to judge how long he has before sunset. ] I'll try to do what I can.

[ He pauses, just watching the video for a moment as though he can unwind the mystery of Peter even from a distance. He knows he's afraid--it's written all over his face. It's just hard to work out what he's so terrified of. Surely it's not him? ]

You already are helping. But I'm afraid...

[ A pause. He reconsiders what he's about to say. ]

I'm worried about you.

[ It manages to make him furrow his brow, intensity turned to confusion as he stares off at nothing. It's odd to hear coming from Sylar now -- not that it's odd to hear coming from Sylar, but the fact that he has amnesia colors it, making Peter inevitably turn back to look at his NV, unsure of what he's supposed to say. ]

Worried about what?

[ Because even though he's been back for a short while, and been around Peter, how does he know what to be worried for? Peter has no idea. ]

You're barely home. You're not around at night, and during the day you're off working, like if you stop everything might catch up to you. When you do come home you can barely look at me.

[ Even without his mind, he has powers and intensity enough to take people apart. Peter does at least glance at him; a small victory. ]

You miss him - me - but you feel guilty for wanting him back. But what worries me, Peter, isn't any of that--it's that you have nobody to talk to. You don't even talk to me.

[ He always wants to snap back with the question of who is he supposed to talk to? He excommunicated himself - though he didn't truly ask for it - and now this is the outcome. He wanted this, in a roundabout kind of way, and he knows he has no right complain about the fact that there's simply no one else to go to.

And so he shrugs, clicking off the scanner and leaving himself in the dulled sounds of the city. ]

I don't need to talk to anyone else, it's fine.

It's not fine. Anyone can see that.

[ A long, thoughtful pause, where he chooses his words carefully. ]

You used to smile and laugh. You have such a beautiful smile when you don't catch yourself doing it and stop. Even though I know you're glad in a way to have me here, I haven't seen you smile in weeks.

Do you want me to help or not?

[ His only defense mechanism, to ignore the entire topic at hand, Peter's finally back to staring at the NV, already uncomfortable enough that they're having this conversation through the device. But at the same, Peter knows he hasn't given them the opportunity to have this conversation at any other time.

And just like that, it becomes entirely his fault. ]

Whether or not i'm fine doesn't matter, not when it comes to whether or not I can help you get your memories back. So don't worry about it, okay?

[ Sylar backs down from Peter's cold, hard stare, dropping his own gaze away this time. Even if Peter just brushed him off, changed the subject from him back to Sylar--it doesn't matter. He pushed too hard, and now he has Peter on the defensive, which isn't where he wanted him. ]

Is there anything I can do to help?

With what?

[ It's an honest question, toned down this time because Peter doesn't know how to help himself, let alone what he's supposed to be asking for. If that's even what Sylar means; Peter doesn't know. He's too busy trying to help anyone else, that Peter's grasping for strays, trying to shove his own life somewhere else. ]

You've already done everything that you can, i'm the one that's supposed to be helping.

If not with you, then maybe with finding the right power--

[ And then what? Ripping it from someone just so that he can get his memory back? How far would he go to become who he once was? Would he kill for it?

He dares a glance back at Peter. ]

I can't sit here doing nothing.

Want me to come back home?

[ It's the first time he's offered it -- breaking from his routine to try to help even though he's been offering to fix Gabriel since he found him. Peter just doesn't know how to do this, and he looks painfully tentative, broken from the inside out and more than a little unsure of himself.

Peter wants to help, he just doesn't want to get it wrong. ]

Might do more good for me to be there than here.

[ He considers saying yes right off the bat, because he wants Peter back with him, but a more sensible answer is-- ]

No.

I want to get out of the house for a while, but I don't want to go into the city either. Maybe... Maybe we could go somewhere together? Somewhere private?

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