tampered | log; complete

log; complete

When; Evening
Rating; PG
Characters; Sylar (

suicideslowly)
Summary; Sylar makes a move out of the Underground to visit someone.
Log;

He wishes he could be invisible- he never did manage to grab that ability. Why did Peter have to pick that one up?

He knows Building 12 will be watched, but he's heading there anyway. He almost took the direct and obvious approach, but decided on a zigzag from the subway entrance instead. He's dressed down for the occasion- black hoodie pulled over his head, his stance hunched over so he looks shorter. Even the ballcap is too noticeable to wear now. Ah, well.

He'd planned to lurk in the hallways and wait, but to be honest he doesn't have that kind of time. So instead he goes to Mohinder and Eden's door and knocks. Either way he'll get what he wants.

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There aren't many people who might come knocking at the apartment at this time of night, so it's with a considerable amount of caution that Eden slips out of bed, quickly wrapping a cotton robe around her relatively thin frame-- it hides the barely noticeable bump, which many might mistake for a few overlarge dinners and hours missed at the gym, but still makes Eden feel self-conscious nonetheless, and not necessarily for vanity's sake.

It's not Mohinder. He isn't liable to knock until reaching the bedroom door. And Claire would probably have called.

She bites her lower lip once she finally sees just whose face it is beyond the peephole, and after a few seconds' pause, opens the door to allow Sylar in, not releasing her hold on the doorknob-- almost as though she could slam it in his face, should the need arise.

"You could've called."

"No, I really couldn't have. Wasn't sure how long I'd be, you see." He pulls the hood back and smiles down at her, innocently. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"How long you'd be able to hold out? Is the police force here really that keen on making such a stupid move?" Eden asks, temple leaning against the side of the door, lips quirked. "And since when did you ever need an invitation? But come on in."

His smile turns more arrogant- more like his usual smiles. He steps into the room and turns back towards Eden. "I really think they are that keen. I'm sure they feel they have to make an example of me. Although maybe that's just Tony."

He's staring at Eden, but not always her face. He glances down to her stomach, paying closer attention to that bump than he's like to be letting on. "In retrospect, perhaps I shouldn't have been taunting Iron Man," he adds, not sounding like he actually cares in the slightest.

The flicker of familiarity in his expression chills Eden, although she wills herself not to move, to try and not give any indication of the fact that he's making her nervous. Even though, in the end, he can probably hear that her heart rate's a little faster than normal, like a bird fluttering its wings against her ribcage. Not entirely because of Sylar, however-- it's also thanks to the fact Sylar is theirs, in a sense, and she doesn't appreciate random citizens coming in and meddling in private matters.

Kind of like how they always avoided the Feds, back home.

"They have no laws here, no trials, no courts. And thus, no justice. It's not predictable. What is there to make a spectacle of? The fact that they will have caught one out of potentially tens of thousands of killers within the City?" Eden raises a brow, closes the door behind both of them and shuts the lock. "Still, best not to bait them, yes. What were you thinking?"

She misses the slight movement of his gaze.

"They have a police force, they have to do something, I suppose. I thought I'd keep them busy." No, he didn't. That wasn't on his mine when he'd made the announcement. He's not about to tell her the reasons for it- some of them even he didn't fully understand.

He sighs, a little louder than entirely necessary, and his eyes move back up to look into hers. "I have been trying to be honest here, if you've noticed." To an extent, anyway.

"An incompetent police force that gives people the illusion of safety. I don't buy into it, and I think after a few of the past crime sprees, more and more people are starting to see the the force here is ineffective. Doesn't quite get the job done, if you catch my drift," Eden breaks eye contact with Sylar and moves towards the kitchen and peers into the fridge. "If you really cared about the police force having a purpose, you wouldn't lead them on a wild goose chase that won't really manage anything at all. Thirsty?"

She pulls a carafe of water from the fridge, and a couple of glasses from the cabinets.

"And besides, if you're trying to argue the benefits of honesty? Preaching to the wrong choir. Honesty is a luxury, not a necessity."

"Unless you get hit with the right curse, then it quickly becomes a necessity." He continues to watch her as she pulls the water out, adding quickly, "I'd love some water, thank you."

He tilts his head, parting his lips slightly as he pauses. "I actually had that curse for three days- I don't think anyone noticed. Well- one did, but they were very kind about it. I wonder how you would fare with something similar." He smiles at her with something resembling fondness, to offset the remark somewhat.

"You can't cover for curses here with a police force any more effectively than you can with a network of friends. Ever wonder what would happen if one of the guys at the top got their morality switched? I wonder," Eden pours a glass and sets it on the counter, wondering if he'll use any telekinesis. Wondering why she even cares if he does.

She laughs under her breath, raising the glass to her lips-- but despite the apparent flippancy, she's watching him closely. Isn't it easier, after all, to slip down the mountain after making just one misstep?

"I would fare horribly, Sylar. You're right." She shrugs. "That is, if I have something to lie about. And I'll cross that bridge when I get to it."

He stares at her face, deciphering her expression before he opens a palm and the glass floats up to it. "Let's hope you never do, then."

He drowns what would be an awkward pause with one long gulp of water, draining nearly half the glass. When he looks back down to her, his expression is serious. "Your child is all right, Eden. Growing up a little fast, but otherwise- everything's fine."

Eden nearly drops her glass, reaction fast enough that she catches her grip on the glass once more before it's beyond her reach, the only casualty in the form of a small spill onto the linoleum. Whatever she was expecting to hear from him, that wasn't it-- even if there had been an agreement that he would check up.

Had he risked coming out into the open for that? How much of it was wanting to have a bit of a lark with the police force? And how much was actually concern for the baby.

Lips pressed shut, Eden places her glass back on the counter, hands a little shaky. "Fast, you said? That's not the slightest bit concerning."

Sylar's eyes widen just a little when the glass nearly slides out of her grip. He would have caught it with telekinesis, but for some reason when he thought of her various possible reactions, that wasn't one.

"It's not wrong, either," he's quick to correct. "It's merely...a faster development than usual." He knows that could cause problems down the road, and he knows just how easily it could cause those problems. He's sure she knows that already. He takes another gulp of his water, then floats it over to join hers on the counter.

She leans over the counter, face in her hands for a moment before they weave through her hair, little touches comforting to her now after so many months with Mohinder, and it takes a few seconds to string all the words together, to weed through her thoughts. The first thing that comes to her mind is that maybe, more and more, she's starting to understand where Noah was coming from all along.

"Is it..."

Eden presses her hands, fingers twined, against her lips briefly. Is it insensitive? Or is it just a necessity?

Funny how she takes greater pause than ever at that question, now.

"Can you tell if it's human? Because that's the first thing that I think of, when you say it's faster."

"It's human," he says, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms. He's staring at her stomach again, this time not out of curiosity but out of an awkwardness. This is rather new. "I'd have noticed more of a difference if it wasn't. I'd have noticed something wrong. This isn't anything that big, it's only faster."

He looks up because he does want to see her reaction to that, really.

It feels a little ridiculous, the fact that there's a sting in her eyes and in her nose, everything in that moment serving to overwhelm, and if they're lies, she'll take them, little inhales short of gasps fluttering on her lower lip. She hasn't cried since before Mohinder found his cure, even though in the grand scheme of things, these past couple of weeks have been harder on her than even that, because it's not assignments that overwhelm Eden, but instead the prospect of being alone and having nothing to occupy herself with.

As a child, the television was as good as it got. And then, it would progress to sex, drugs, alcohol, the Company. And maybe in Mohinder's relative absence, it's just nice to have something that she can cling to and fight for. He's not home enough, not nearly as much as Eden would have him be, if things went her way, but she knows that she doesn't deserve to set that standard for him. It's not her place.

"Alright," she nods, eyelashes wet, although she seems to will the tears back, because the man standing there is still Sylar, after all. "Thank you."

It's ridiculous, that he would be reminded of the woman in Chicago, the one he saved right before he came here. But it isn't as if he saved anyone here. Quite the opposite, really.

This didn't mean anything, not really. He has to remind himself of that.

"You're welcome," he says, turning back towards the door- and away from her. "You'll let Mohinder know, won't you?"

She ponders her words for a while, because in all honesty, she owes Sylar nothing other than that word of gratitude-- and even then, he'd come willingly, gave her the news willingly. But perhaps she can allow herself be a little bitter with, oddly enough, the person she anticipates is least likely to hold anything against Mohinder.

How strangely things worked in the City.

"I get the honest feeling that I care a little more about this than he does, at times. Which is to be expected, of course." Eden wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, now that Sylar's turned away. "That all of you need to be able to leave this City in one piece is most important now. Even you have a role to play, even if I wonder exactly what that is anymore."

She pauses.

"If he asks, I'll let him know."

Edited 2009-03-01 07:07 (UTC)

Sylar looks back towards her, his expression blank for a moment, and then he raises an eyebrow. "Sure."

He's almost amused. "And if you ask, maybe he'll let you know why I came here."

Sylar lets the door close behind him.

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