The heat in Peter's voice chills Adam some, though as much as he wants to cross to him, reach out for him, the chill is almost too much to penetrate through and reach out from. It's not even Peter's fault, and logically some part of him knows that, but he can't come back down that easily, not when he's been slow building toward this for weeks--since Claire being attacked by that thing and everyone falling apart, at least, if not before.
He hates being back in the City, when once he loved it, but that's just a symptom, too, probably. Hates that Sark and Sylar are fighting and his safe one place where he truly feels he can be himself with no reservation is shattered. But the flicker in Peter's voice is what brings that home, sharpens at least that piece into perspective.
"You're not, though," Adam says, shaking his head. "You might go along with it because you care for us, but you don't approve, you don't understand. If it gets too bad..." He'll leave. Adam's pretty certain of that. "You don't talk to me either. You go to Nathan. You've never once told me how frightened you are of having Sylar's ability. And I sit here, and I...You want me to talk to you? You want to know what's going on in my head?"
He laughs without any humor. "Claire's marrying the person who made me what I am today, then buried me alive. The person I...believed in once, more than I'd ever believed in anyone, only to be betrayed and abandoned, and my granddaughter is marrying him. Do you know how fucked up that is? He buried me alive, and she's marrying him." Adam drew a steadying breath. "And you...you'll always go back to Nathan, to my son who I didn't get to raise thanks to your father, who I'm fairly certain goes back and forth with hating me half the time. You don't listen--none of you listen--when I talk about the world and where it's heading. You act like your mother and I are some kind of delusional fanatics who you need to show the way without ever taking into consideration the things we've seen, the things we've been through. I feel like I'm always being watched, like I have to prove I'm the 'good' guy, because god forbid I come up with some other plan to destroy your precious fucking world that's going to hell all on its own. Everything I have built up again could be gone with one decision you all deem to be 'wrong' and I could be back in that place I still have nightmares about. I have changed so much for you, stifled so much, molded myself into someone you could accept again, given up on what I worked for a century on, all for you, and you still...go to him. And I...who can I go to, Peter? Who can I talk to? Who can I turn to without shattering everything? Not you. Not him. Not your mother. Not Sylar, not Julian, not Claire...so maybe I go out with Sylar now and again, because he has something he needs and I...at least feel like there's something that's mine in the world, if only for a moment, even if it's just an illusion."
He's trembling by the time the words run out, trying to pull back in on himself, to shut down the emotion that threatens to overwhelm. "Is that what you wanted to know?"
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Date: 2009-10-14 05:48 am (UTC)He hates being back in the City, when once he loved it, but that's just a symptom, too, probably. Hates that Sark and Sylar are fighting and his safe one place where he truly feels he can be himself with no reservation is shattered. But the flicker in Peter's voice is what brings that home, sharpens at least that piece into perspective.
"You're not, though," Adam says, shaking his head. "You might go along with it because you care for us, but you don't approve, you don't understand. If it gets too bad..." He'll leave. Adam's pretty certain of that. "You don't talk to me either. You go to Nathan. You've never once told me how frightened you are of having Sylar's ability. And I sit here, and I...You want me to talk to you? You want to know what's going on in my head?"
He laughs without any humor. "Claire's marrying the person who made me what I am today, then buried me alive. The person I...believed in once, more than I'd ever believed in anyone, only to be betrayed and abandoned, and my granddaughter is marrying him. Do you know how fucked up that is? He buried me alive, and she's marrying him." Adam drew a steadying breath. "And you...you'll always go back to Nathan, to my son who I didn't get to raise thanks to your father, who I'm fairly certain goes back and forth with hating me half the time. You don't listen--none of you listen--when I talk about the world and where it's heading. You act like your mother and I are some kind of delusional fanatics who you need to show the way without ever taking into consideration the things we've seen, the things we've been through. I feel like I'm always being watched, like I have to prove I'm the 'good' guy, because god forbid I come up with some other plan to destroy your precious fucking world that's going to hell all on its own. Everything I have built up again could be gone with one decision you all deem to be 'wrong' and I could be back in that place I still have nightmares about. I have changed so much for you, stifled so much, molded myself into someone you could accept again, given up on what I worked for a century on, all for you, and you still...go to him. And I...who can I go to, Peter? Who can I talk to? Who can I turn to without shattering everything? Not you. Not him. Not your mother. Not Sylar, not Julian, not Claire...so maybe I go out with Sylar now and again, because he has something he needs and I...at least feel like there's something that's mine in the world, if only for a moment, even if it's just an illusion."
He's trembling by the time the words run out, trying to pull back in on himself, to shut down the emotion that threatens to overwhelm. "Is that what you wanted to know?"