They had planned for this. Peter, Sylar- the whole of HeroTruther.
Since the media had swirled into a storm around a few bad Evos.
Micah had procured a barge, The Highland Dream, for them to be mobile, untraceable. Peter had taken Sylar’s ability, temporarily, as they both observed the barge for any technical shortcomings. Peter had been worried- Sylar had started to become restless, his ability, the hunger coming back in spurts, causing him to go off grid for a few days. The other members of HeroTruther only griped that Sylar was “unreliable”, still knowing the alternative to be worse.
02 October 2011
The Act’s Amendment had been passed, officially.
The barge was ready for travel, for missions.
Sylar was more relaxed than he had been in a long time. Fixing the barge was enough to keep the hunger at bay. If only for a short while. Tearing apart the mechanics of the floating shelter was better than tearing open the heads of fellow Evos. Redemption was no longer the goal, but rather rectitude, to do better than he had. It was no small task, but Peter believed in Sylar. It worked out to be that was enough for the both of them.
03 October 2011
Micah briefed them on the technical parts of the ERA.
Micah, Mohinder, Claude, Peter, Sylar, Rene, and Laura moved in.
Micah outfitted the whole of the barge to be a technical safe haven. Peter remembered the small boy in Kirby Plaza, and was still occasionally dumbfounded that he was the head of a movement. The voice of a Rebellion.
Sylar tried to make amends with the boy he threatened with his life so long ago. Micah hadn’t forgotten, but it was a nonissue. “Sylar can help save us all.” Sylar was forgiven. And that was the end of those discussions.
17 October 2011
In a rapid turn of events, Peter was the one losing his cool.
And Sylar was the one dragging the other out of the living area.
“How could she do that?” Peter yelled at Sylar the whole way to the surface. Sylar was unhappy too, agitated. Itching. Starving. But he had to distract himself- technopathy could be so useful- no, Peter needed to calm down. Sylar held the upper part of Peter’s arm in a stony grip. They couldn’t lose their cool just yet. “We can talk to Claire. We know where she lives.” Sylar suggested, dreading the idea already.
18 October 2011
The window was too easy to open.
Maybe that’s why people feared Evos. Everything was easy for them.
Except, of course, living openly.
Claire was livid. It was written in her face, composure, even the air of the room. But this was a necessary evil. And they needed one another to get in. Sylar may have ceased seeking redemption, but forgiveness could never hurt.
But there was unadulterated, uncensored hurt and hatred replacing the twinkle in her eyes. Sylar had to come to terms with never being forgiven. To always being evil- for an eternity. For two more eternities, probably.
19 October 2011
They had met Hiro.
They were all on the HeroTruther network.
Like some sort of vigilante social networking. They had set a plan into motion. The Evo Registration Act was wrong- Claire had opened the door by admitting she had known Evos who didn’t declare, who didn’t register. Sylar sat over watches as Peter wrote his script- he was once well known as Nathan Petrelli’s little brother, people may listen to him, instead. What Peter had in heart, he lacked in wordsmithing. “Lie. Pretend he didn’t try and lock us all up.” Sylar suggests. It helped smooth the speech over.
20 October 2011
This was a bad idea.
Peter and public speaking didn’t mix.
Maybe if he would project his voice. Or separate his words. Or stand up straight. Maybe if for fifteen minutes, he would stop fixating on his big exit, leaving via borrowed teleportation on live television for the world to see. Exposing himself. Exposing the Petrellis.
Not long ago… Peter had threatened this to Nathan: “Why don’t we just race around the Statue of Liberty real quick. Huh? Give this tweedy guy something to write about.” All he had to do was exit stage left. No more difficult than flying.
25 October 2011
It could have went worse.
The world knew that he, Peter Petrelli, EMT, was an Evo.
But they would bet on him teleporting away now. This was a war on ERA, a fight from freedom. They didn’t draw the line, though- the oppressed never draw the line between us and them. They only highlight it. Maybe. Peter just knows he wasn’t the one drawing the line in the sand between people. He only drew the line between him and legislation. People and oppression. Evos and the same bagging and tagging they had been fighting for a solid six years, now.
04 November 2011
The Petrelli Movement was funny until an hour ago.
Ten days it made Peter groan.
Everyone appreciated the joke because it lightened the dank atmosphere of the barge. It lightened the atmosphere of rising discontent and unrest. Peter was utterly incapable of leading a revolution, and here he was, the new face of one.
Antonio had contacted them with the news of Paris. So few had made it out. They were the ones to extract the survivors. Injuries were primarily managed by Mohinder and Peter.
It was funny until Peter wept.
It was funny until Sylar was sympathetic and gentle.
10 November 2011
Unrest was everywhere.
The Highland Dream was now a mission’s base.
Peter threw himself into rescuing. He had chosen Telekinesis as his preferred ability. Claude was chided his recklessness, “what d’you suppose you’re fixing, coming back in nearly pieces?”
Peterwas saving people. That was all he was good at, that and getting people killed. Sylar came up behind him, throwing the shorter man’s shoulder into the nearest wall. “You’re only good as a martyr if you get people out alive! Nearly getting everyone killed is not selfless! It’s reckless! Childish!” Sylar pushed past Peter. He slammed the door behind him.
15 November 2011
Claire’s article (obviously ghostwritten) was published.
It wasn’t enough she was allowing herself to be experimented on.
Now, she was insulting the movement, pretending they were the instigators. Micah himself was livid. Peter was fuming. Sylar was nowhere to be found- he was probably outside, by this point.
“This was not a war instigated by us,” the broadcast stated, “but by the corrupted politicians and the fearmongering bigots. They were the ones who forced us away from them. They asked us to register according to a genetic fluke- they have no regard for humanity, though they hold themselves our superior.”
Ficlet of the Petrelli boys under the cut, taking place in around 1990 (Peter should be around 11, and Nathan in his early 20s). Sorry if it’s a bit ooc as I’ve never really written these characters before, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
“Nathan!” A voice called, the moment the eldest Petrelli brother made his way onto the school campus.
Before Nathan could even react he was practically attacked by his younger brother when he threw his arms around him.
“Calm down there, Pete.” Nathan suggested, as he attempted to escape from the trap he had been caught in.
Peter pulled back the moment he noticed Nathan’s struggle and gave him a goofy grin. Nathan wanted to be annoyed at him, he really did. The kid honestly needed to start maturing a bit. He was approaching his teenage years, and his head was still in the clouds completely. But honestly, his dorky, kid brother was too cute at this age to be irritated with for too long. He would start nagging him in a couple years…
“But I haven’t seen you in days!” Peter protested, “Where have you even been?”
“College is a lot more work than you realize.” Nathan answered, thinking of the countless essays and assignments he’d had to do as of late.
Peter pouted, “All you ever talk about is schoolwork anymore.”
“Well schoolwork’s important. The education that I’m getting now is the stepping stone that will take me towards my career and the rest of my life.”
Peter seemed to contemplate that response for a moment as he lightly kicked at the pavement with the toe of his sneakers. When he glanced back up at Nathan his express was hesitate,
“You’re not going to get so busy that you’ll stop being my brother, right?”
Nathan smiled softly before reaching out a hand and ruffling Peter’s hair, “I’ll always be your brother.”
“Promise?”
He knew, in the back of his mind, that they weren’t always going to be this close. Peter’s life seemed to be going a completely different direction than his, despite what he would prefer. They were bound to have arguments about nothing and everything, and he knew that his brother would be a major source of problems in the coming years. But that didn’t change the fact that they were, and would always be, brothers.
Setting: I Am Become Death Alternate Universe, Season 3
Summary: Noah Gray is Sylar's son and it is his conception that puts Sylar on the twisted path of redemption. Many theories have been aired about the boy's mother. In this AU, it's Sandra Bennet.
areudirty
janainaart
2087
jacobvanloon
snowghoul
turnnoffyourmind