[Despite the tablet being shoved into his hand, Sherlock isn't even remotely interested in anything John has to say right now. The speaker is being impatiently covered with his hand to muffle the protests from within, eyes fixed on the retreating form of Gabriel. He doesn't cover it completely, though, so John's voice is still semi-audible and he doesn't cover the microphone at all so John can still hear what's happening.]
If she's still alive now, I'm sure you'll kill her when you return. A man like you can't afford to have anyone who remembers him when he was 'normal', anyone who remembers the man behind Sylar.
[He's irritated about the mother, he was so sure.]
Compulsion?
[He snorts.]
You're just trying to find more ways to avoid facing up to yourself. You told yourself you were special, you deserved those powers, and that justified killing. Now you say that they're gone, you're trying to convince yourself that compulsions made you do it so that you don't have to face what you did.
But you know that's a lie. If it had only been compulsion brought on by the ticking of your ability, you wouldn't have murdered Dr. Suresh here. Or, if you had, you would have shown remorse. You are a killer, Gabriel, and there are no convenient compulsions to blame for it.
[ Sylar had been trying so hard to put a hold on violence until he sorted this out. But it seems like Sherlock just sorted it out for him. He'd made his peace with being a murderer a year ago, but last night had made him question it. It was a sick sort of hope, one telling him he'd never had a chance.
He was going to fight Sherlock with words. He could still- Sherlock was deflecting from his own issues. But why bother when he was a killer anyway? Maybe it was always going to come to this. ]
So what's the natural conclusion, then, Sherlock? If I'm nothing but a killer and you're angering me?
[ There are tears in his eyes as he turns and charges at Sherlock, hoping to shove him into the nearest wall. He has his right forearm up to place against Sherlock's neck. ]
No. Sylar! [John hears the pounding of feet and he can guess at where this is going. Sherlock is a fighter, but he's not exactly in fighting form right now, his head out of the game of it with everything that happened. Whether anyone can hear him now, John starts shouting.]
Don't hurt him! Don't you dare hurt him. Sylar, you're a killer, but you're a bloody pragmatist. Don't do this. I will tell every single person who and what you are if you hurt him. You'll be a pariah, just as bad as the Joker, hunted by the Avengers and Batman and every other person you don't want. You won't be able to help anyone anymore.
[He is taken off guard as Gabriel runs at him. Not because the move is unexpected, it's incredibly predictable, but because it just reminds him so much of last night. Of a brief fight, of his own actual compulsions, of killing a man with his own two hands because he couldn't trust his own mind.
John is right to be worried about his head not being in the game, because he is pinned up against the wall by his throat before he can snap out of that momentary fear for his mind. He swallows hard against the arm at his neck, but he doesn't lose his head.
It sounds like John is shouting, and maybe what Gabriel needs is to be hit around the head with the points his friend is making. Literally. He swing the tablet up towards Gabriel's head to try and smash it into his temple. He knows how durable these things are so it should make a good weapon, shame that it will hit the 'end call' button at the same time if it makes contact.]
[ Ow! A corner hits him and he grimaces, but he holds his arm there. He heard at least a few of John's words and they reach him more than they'd been reaching Sherlock. He just wants Sherlock to shut up. ]
How did it feel last night, rationalizing your own actions? You were just protecting your friends, right? Did it feel natural, acting on the Prophet's behalf?
[John gets hung up on and immediately tries to call back. If they're in the middle of the fight, though, that's not going to get responded to until one of them is out... or dead.
Fuck!
The doctor starts jogging, ignoring the way his face jolts in pain and holding his tablet close.]
You know how it felt, you saw it with your own eyes.
[He does not want this conversation flipped on him in this manner. It's probably obvious that he's deeply unsettled by what happened, though perhaps not for the same reasons that everyone else is troubled by it.]
You're embarrassing yourself, Gabriel, what are you trying to achieve?
[His technique is terrible for someone who's supposedly a serial killer. Too much reliance on telekinesis to do the job for him. Sherlock brings his knee up sharply, aiming for either between Gabriel's legs or into his solar plexus. His throat hurts, but the pressure isn't enough to knock him out or be life threatening, so he can still fight.]
[ The question focuses him, even as he takes a heavy kick that pushes him even further off of Sherlock. He tries to regain ground and reapply his arm, but Sherlock is right- his technique is terrible. Still, he does his best to persevere. The words are more important than the fight. ]
You were sure those were your own thoughts, weren't you? You trusted your mind not to betray you--
[ He pauses as he grunts with the effort of trying to keep Sherlock against the wall. ]
You took the ideas and made them yours, because at least then you were in control. Right? How is that different? Show me exactly how that's different from me!
[Sherlock isn't especially good at dealing with people who can get to him in the same way that he gets to other people. The tabloids don't bother him, general insults don't bother him, but specific digs in the right place can. It's like Mycroft, a taunt that he's really just a stupid little boy. It's the HOUND but so much worse.
His mind is all he has. In many ways, he's similar to Sylar. He knows he has greatness, he knows he's better than the average man, but all of that worth is tied to his brilliant mind. If he can't trust that, he has nothing, he is nothing. His eyes widen and the hand that comes to push at Sylar's arm is trembling just a little.]
I knew I wasn't in control, I felt it. Just as John felt it, that's why he restrained himself, that's why I only killed those people who deserve to die.
[He doesn't actually feel much guilt for killing the two men that he did. Both were murderers, despicable human beings, and he stopped himself hurting the child.]
That is how it's different. You never killed for a higher 'power' controlling your actions, you did it for your own selfish gains. The only person controlling you was you. And now look at you, Gabriel, look at what you are failing to do, look at the corner you have backed yourself into. What do you think killing me will achieve other than to prove that all you are is a petty man with temper issues? What do you think sparing me will do other than to prove you are incapable of achieving anything any longer?
[ Sylar's eyes narrow, more to keep from outright crying than anything else. There was no winning here. But at least neither of them would. He huffs out a sigh and lets go of Sherlock, backing up a few feet to put space between them. ]
It's not any different. I knew it wasn't right, I did everything to try and stop, at first. The only difference is you had to deal with it here for a night, and I've been dealing with it for years.
[ The fury is out of his voice, now. He just sounds tired. ]
Did it get harder to fight as the night wore on? Some people told me it did.
[He might be more interested in this in the future, and every inflection and word is being stored in his mind palace for when he needs it, but not right now. He's almost angry at Gabriel for backing away, it gives him less to focus on to distract from the bone-numbing terror he feels every time he contemplates that night.]
Your delusions are becoming boring now.
[It's almost spat out as he stalks across the room towards the main door of the aquarium. He's changed his mind, he wants to walk, he wants to be away from Gabriel Gray.]
[ Sylar just watches him leave, fairly sure that Sherlock's mostly being defensive. He sighs, seeing the tablet on the floor, and picks it up to contact John. Not that the guy is going to believe him.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
voice/action
28/11/16 17:38 (UTC)If she's still alive now, I'm sure you'll kill her when you return. A man like you can't afford to have anyone who remembers him when he was 'normal', anyone who remembers the man behind Sylar.
[He's irritated about the mother, he was so sure.]
Compulsion?
[He snorts.]
You're just trying to find more ways to avoid facing up to yourself. You told yourself you were special, you deserved those powers, and that justified killing. Now you say that they're gone, you're trying to convince yourself that compulsions made you do it so that you don't have to face what you did.
But you know that's a lie. If it had only been compulsion brought on by the ticking of your ability, you wouldn't have murdered Dr. Suresh here. Or, if you had, you would have shown remorse. You are a killer, Gabriel, and there are no convenient compulsions to blame for it.
voice/action
28/11/16 17:53 (UTC)He was going to fight Sherlock with words. He could still- Sherlock was deflecting from his own issues. But why bother when he was a killer anyway? Maybe it was always going to come to this. ]
So what's the natural conclusion, then, Sherlock? If I'm nothing but a killer and you're angering me?
[ There are tears in his eyes as he turns and charges at Sherlock, hoping to shove him into the nearest wall. He has his right forearm up to place against Sherlock's neck. ]
voice/action
28/11/16 18:23 (UTC)Don't hurt him! Don't you dare hurt him. Sylar, you're a killer, but you're a bloody pragmatist. Don't do this. I will tell every single person who and what you are if you hurt him. You'll be a pariah, just as bad as the Joker, hunted by the Avengers and Batman and every other person you don't want. You won't be able to help anyone anymore.
voice/action
28/11/16 18:33 (UTC)John is right to be worried about his head not being in the game, because he is pinned up against the wall by his throat before he can snap out of that momentary fear for his mind. He swallows hard against the arm at his neck, but he doesn't lose his head.
It sounds like John is shouting, and maybe what Gabriel needs is to be hit around the head with the points his friend is making. Literally. He swing the tablet up towards Gabriel's head to try and smash it into his temple. He knows how durable these things are so it should make a good weapon, shame that it will hit the 'end call' button at the same time if it makes contact.]
action
28/11/16 18:42 (UTC)How did it feel last night, rationalizing your own actions? You were just protecting your friends, right? Did it feel natural, acting on the Prophet's behalf?
action
28/11/16 18:55 (UTC)Fuck!
The doctor starts jogging, ignoring the way his face jolts in pain and holding his tablet close.]
action
28/11/16 18:56 (UTC)[He does not want this conversation flipped on him in this manner. It's probably obvious that he's deeply unsettled by what happened, though perhaps not for the same reasons that everyone else is troubled by it.]
You're embarrassing yourself, Gabriel, what are you trying to achieve?
[His technique is terrible for someone who's supposedly a serial killer. Too much reliance on telekinesis to do the job for him. Sherlock brings his knee up sharply, aiming for either between Gabriel's legs or into his solar plexus. His throat hurts, but the pressure isn't enough to knock him out or be life threatening, so he can still fight.]
action
28/11/16 19:06 (UTC)You were sure those were your own thoughts, weren't you? You trusted your mind not to betray you--
[ He pauses as he grunts with the effort of trying to keep Sherlock against the wall. ]
You took the ideas and made them yours, because at least then you were in control. Right? How is that different? Show me exactly how that's different from me!
action
28/11/16 19:21 (UTC)His mind is all he has. In many ways, he's similar to Sylar. He knows he has greatness, he knows he's better than the average man, but all of that worth is tied to his brilliant mind. If he can't trust that, he has nothing, he is nothing. His eyes widen and the hand that comes to push at Sylar's arm is trembling just a little.]
I knew I wasn't in control, I felt it. Just as John felt it, that's why he restrained himself, that's why I only killed those people who deserve to die.
[He doesn't actually feel much guilt for killing the two men that he did. Both were murderers, despicable human beings, and he stopped himself hurting the child.]
That is how it's different. You never killed for a higher 'power' controlling your actions, you did it for your own selfish gains. The only person controlling you was you. And now look at you, Gabriel, look at what you are failing to do, look at the corner you have backed yourself into. What do you think killing me will achieve other than to prove that all you are is a petty man with temper issues? What do you think sparing me will do other than to prove you are incapable of achieving anything any longer?
action
28/11/16 19:40 (UTC)It's not any different. I knew it wasn't right, I did everything to try and stop, at first. The only difference is you had to deal with it here for a night, and I've been dealing with it for years.
[ The fury is out of his voice, now. He just sounds tired. ]
Did it get harder to fight as the night wore on? Some people told me it did.
action
28/11/16 19:52 (UTC)Your delusions are becoming boring now.
[It's almost spat out as he stalks across the room towards the main door of the aquarium. He's changed his mind, he wants to walk, he wants to be away from Gabriel Gray.]
action
28/11/16 19:58 (UTC)He feels rather numb now. ]