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Laying on his back on a bed that looked and felt exactly like his own at home but wasn't, Peter stared up at the darkness where he assumed a ceiling was. Peter could never be sure inside Sylar's mind, for all he knew where a ceiling should be, maybe that darkness was all there was and went on who knew how far up. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, rolling over onto his side not wanting to look up anymore.
"Peter" Acesa whispered next to him, pressing her nose against his hand and he groped in the darkness, twining his fingers in her soft fur and let out a shuttering breath as he tried to ignore the sounds coming from the other room.
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/....The first day he arrived, he along with Acesa had searched the imaginary city for signs of the other pair, yelling and generally just making as much as possible to attract attention. Eventually he'd heard a yell, loud but hesitant, in return and Peter had gone that direction. Banging the metal pipe he'd found against the ground twice more before tossing it aside.
And as he stared across at Sylar, Peter knew something was wrong, something was off about the other man but he didn't dwell on it. Whatever it was, it couldn't be that important right? What mattered was getting Sylar out of here so he could save Emma. He'd approached and the feeling of something was wrong just grew more, though he could not put his finger on it.../
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"What should we do?" Peter asked his dæmon, almost under his breath but she heard it anyways. She lifted her head only a little and gave a long look at the closed door of the bedroom before heaving a sigh, laying her head back down.
"I don't know, what can we do?" was her answer.
And Peter didn't have a response to that, so he just squeezed his eyes shut and resisted the urge to press his hands tight against his ears.
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/...Peter charged into the room he'd seen Sylar disappear into, his anger and frustration at the other's lack of comprehension plain on his face. Or maybe it was just his anger towards Sylar period, almost unable to believe the killer in front of him would save thousands of people if he had not Dreamed it using his mother's ability.
"I swear I'll kill you! Get out of my head!" Sylar cried, his voice rough and tight, the hammer he held in his hand pointing threatening in Peter's direction. Acesa curled her lip up a little behind him at the threat, but made no other move.
Peter for his part, lifted his hands in a non-threatening way, sighing out with a touch of exasperation: "Calm down, I am telling you the truth" another sigh and then he added without much pause, "I came to take you out of here"
Confusion played on Sylar's face. "Why do you keep saying that?"
"I went to Parkman's house to look for you. He put you here. This is a dream-"
"It's not a dream!" Sylar yelled, interrupting, his eyes flicking away from Peter's face and back, "This is real"
"You really don't understand that this is all just a nightmare?"
"Hell yes it's a nightmare" Sylar said, breath coming out hard as he continued, "Three years completely alone"
Peter resisted the urge to yell back. "Not years, hours, alright?"
And all through the exchange, as he convinced Sylar to let him try and get them out even if the other man was intent on believing it would not work, the sense of wrongness refused to go away.../
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Acesa shifted uncomfortably next to him and she whined, the sound almost in concert with the noises he was ignoring from the other side of the door. And even if she was the one who had asked what could they do, she looked at him, the faint light illuminating her face. "Peter" she whispered, "We have to try and do something. This happens more and more often the longer we are here"
Peter agreed with her, but as she'd said before, what could they do? He reached out in the darkness, wrapping his arms around his border collie dæmon. Pulling her close against him, he felt her heartbeat against his chest, heard her breathing next to his ear and he closed his eyes.
"Even if he deserves punishment, this is more then most people would deem even he would deserve" Acesa said, her voice shaking and her body with it. He pulled her closer, trying to soothe and comfort her as she so often did him, "No one deserves this and he is trying, trying so hard to change"
He wasn't sure he one hundred percent agreed with the very last. But as for deserving this? No, no one deserved this.
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/...Peter's eyes opened in confusion, not sure why they were still in this place inside Sylar's mind, surrounded by ticking clocks. Sylar stared at him before giving him a knowing look, though he could see a twinge of disappointment swept away as if it had never been there. "See?" Sylar said softly, "We're not going anywhere, we're trapped here-"
Peter jerked his hand away, the ticking seeming to grow inexplicably louder.
"-forever"
He stared at the other in a stunned silence before shaking his head. "No, that's impossible" he said and reached for Sylar again, he had just done something wrong. And down, standing next to his left leg, Acesa barked a small encouragement.
And Sylar's eyes snapped down at the dæmon as if seeing her for the first time, his eyes wide and he stumbled back, away from Peter's raised hand. "No no no" he said, shaking his head and closing his eyes, not seeming to care when he backed into a stack of books, sending them crashing to the floor. Though he did stop backing up.
"Sylar?" Peter questioned, taking a step forward.
But then he stopped as he finally realized what was so very wrong about Sylar right now and he looked up, looked around as his breath came faster in an almost panic. "Sylar" he asked, looking at the other's face who stared back with an anguished, lost look that Peter was amazed he hadn't seen until just now. "Where is your dæmon? Where is Hora?" his voice cracked at the other's demon's name and Sylar flinched. He wanted the other to tell him she was just not here, anything but- he wasn't sure what.
Sylar finally looked away from him, though the look didn't leave his face. He picked his way across the cluttered room, stopping in front of a part of the room he hadn't seen, that had been blocked from his view until he moved around. It was a surprisingly clean section of room considering the state of disarray of the rest of it. It was what looked like an old fashioned baby's cradle and Sylar was staring down into it.
Peter didn't want to, but he moved closer until he was standing near to the other man and looked down as well.
It was Hora, the rabbit dæmon, that lay unmoving inside the cradle and Peter watched as Sylar reached out, fingers barely brushing over gray fur before moving his hand back. He seemed to have forgotten his anger towards Peter in favour of staring at his dæmon.
"What-?" he started to asked, but the words died on his lips so he closed them.
"She won't wake up, she hasn't woken up since I woke up here" Sylar whispered, "I've been alone for three years"
Peter didn't correct him that it had only been three hours that time.../
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He couldn't listen to it anymore, even if he wanted nothing more then to curl around Acesa and press his fingers into his ears and block it out. But he couldn't do that anymore, so he moved to get up from the bed. Acesa moved with him without his even having to say a word. Together the pair of them walked across the darkened bedroom, him hesitating at the door.
"Open it Peter, I don't want to listen to it again. Not when we can try, try something" she said and whined, the sound low in the back of her throat, pressing against his leg. He dropped a hand down to rest it on her back for a moment before he opened the door.
The living room was just as dark as the bedroom had been, but Peter knew he was going without having to see. He picked his way through the room, stopping behind Sylar who knelt on the floor. He saw in the dim light the other man stiffen and try to choke back the sob about to leave his throat as he had been staring at the comatose body of his dæmon. Unable, Peter knew, to touch her for long even if he longed too because she wasn't awake and that hurt almost as much as not touching her.
Peter crouched down behind Sylar and without thinking his actions through, he put awkward arms around Sylar from behind, more then expecting the other to turn hostile, to shove him away. But instead the other shook in his arms and leaned closer. And it was then Peter realized how starved Sylar must have been for just simple touch, people and their dæmons touched in a single day more times then he could count and Sylar had been without his dæmon and her touch for what felt like so many years.
So he shoved away his anger towards the killer for just this once, drawing him closer and trying to ease the awkwardness out of his touch. Sylar didn't seem to care or notice either way, half turning in his embrace and clinging to him, body shaking from suppressing sobs. Peter could feel Acesa to his side, conflicted in a way he'd never felt her. Part of her longed to touch Sylar, to press close to him and offer him the comfort that Hora could not right now. But she couldn't, so instead she pressed herself against Peter's back as if trying to transfer her touch through her human to Hora's.
Peter's hand lifted, running through dark strands of hair that were softer then they looked, and lowered back to resting on his back, his cheek against the top of the others head in place of the hand. "Maybe you deserve punishment Sylar" he whispered, "But not this. No one, not even you, deserves this"
And even if the words were almost harsh, Sylar didn't care, they broke the last of his restraint. He clung closer and sobbed, sounding as if his very soul was breaking. And maybe it is a little, Peter mused, his eyes looking up at the cradle before closing his eyes.