I think that this was one of the most romantic ideas that I’ve never heard of.

New Year’s Eve has never been the most incredibly celebrated holiday . . . in fact, I feel like a lot of people just use it as an excuse to drink and act debaucherous for the simple thought of the ticking of the clock wiping away all of their transgressions, and a new year equalling a clean slate.

But for some reason, I would think that that is exactly the kind of holiday that would appeal to Sylar. While he might not seem like one of these who particularly enjoys holidays, it’s near that his deeply-instilled sense of tradition would be enough to motivate him to at least put in the effort to celebrating. Even in the Wall, I am sure that he at least TRIED to find something to be happy about for the season, and even more so once Peter had joined him . . . but even for someone whom the holidays are not ‘the most wonderful time of year,’ it simply wouldn’t have been the same, wouldn’t have been good enough, for him to really take away the same experience as he did prior.

Which kind of makes the start of this fic make sense . . . Like, now that Sylar is back in the free world, surrounded by people and music and lights and energy, of course he wants to partake more fully than he has in nearly a decade . . . and the slight possessiveness he feels over his friend is understandable, and frankly, adorable. The fact that he still pushes Peter to go and see his mother is very touching — because even if Syar could likely spend a week and half coming up with clever and cruel nicknames for the women, he still cares more about Peter than himself, and he wants him to be happy . . . even if it with Angela, and not himself.

Too, though, I understand Peter’s point of view with everything; Christmas is a time for family and togetherness, and even if they hardly left on the best of terms, he still has to be missing the last surviving link to his direct family (and maybe Claire, too, but that’s a different story for a different day). And no matter what other people do to him, he is NEVER going to abandon anyone ever, and he clearly needs time with each of the people he loves to trace over the grooves in his heart and remember and revive the feelings that were there . . . SO even if I fully support throwing old tomatoes at Angela’s nose, I get that Peter needs time with his mother.

Still, i don’t think that anything compares to the time that Peter and Sylar managed to spend together. And I really, really loved that Peter was the one surprising Sylar with the gift — since normally, it seems like it would be the other way around (not that Peter doesn’t like giving to other people, but just that he doesn’t seems like he would always think of such a romantic way to do it . . . giving for him is so natural, it just doesn’t feel like he’d make a big deal out of most things . . . though clearly, this was special. *smiles*).

“He blames it on love, which can conquer even the best of minds, and has truly taken his hostage.” (That is SUCH a SYLAR way of thinking about love, logical almost to a fault and clearly a little impatient with the idea of anything controlling his mind but HIMSELF . . . And still so salty; how apt.)

But the whole thing was just . . . well, it was beautiful, honestly. I’ve never really wondered what it would be like to be in the midst of all those fireworks, but I can see how the idea would be enticing to someone else, the thought of being high above the ground, free and with nothing to touch you, surrounded by light and stars . . . it’d almost be like an ethereal moment of beauty, something that no one else can say they have experience, something no one else can intrude on the intimacy of, or sully the experience, because it is a moment that is theirs and only theirs, and it’s perfect because of that.

Sometimes, I think I don’t give Peter enough credit for being understanding of people . . . Because I am betting that for all of his desires to go out and make amends over the holidays, he knew that some time alone together was exactly what Sylar needed and wanted from him . . . And since he’s a bit of a sap for Sylar, it worked out quite well in securing something special for the two of them to bond over all on their own.

And that kiss . . . color me loony, but there is something so beautiful and intimate about calling your partner by their name when you kiss them, or they you (and I couldn’t help but notice that Peter doesn’t say it in turn to Sylar . . . I wonder if they’ll ever get to a point that Peter may call him ‘Gabriel’ . . . Or maybe that’s a bridge even our favorite villain us unwilling to cross). And it was just so sweet and potent . . . and the ‘taste of gunpowder’ was a really nice detail, my friend.

I really, really liked this story. This is way that any New Year should be rung in, with love and friendliness and the anticipation of the morning and all of the good things that the next 365 days will inevitably bring; even if Peter is still a dope and Sylar is still a cute jelly-bean, they should still have the thought of change — the luxury that they have not been afforded since their time in the Wall, too.

Thank you for sharing this. (And thank you for the gift/mention; it meant a lot to me.) It was a new kind of writing, but you did great in the attempt, and it still came off very smoothly, like a noir dictation, a little less personal, but allowing the reader to develop their own feelings. It was different, and it was nice.

Happy 2018!