Peter goes unnaturally still at the question, partially because it simply wasn't a question he expected. And for a moment the fear of not being able to answer Adam immediately catches up with him and renders him absolutely useless, struggling to even be able to think properly against Adam's throat.
A few months ago, more like what amounts to years in Peter's mind, the answer to that question would have been instantaneous. He didn't believe he'd ever be capable of forgiving someone that had betrayed him so wholly. That had helped lead him down a path that only he felt guilty for; the death of millions of people.
And yet, at the same time, he would have never believed himself capable of forgiving Sylar. There was a time and a place for holding onto his anger, and it was long gone. It had been lost right along with everything else, and now, he couldn't convince himself of the worth of his own dwindling bitterness. All that was left was directed inwards, vying for the award of how many things he could find to blame himself for. But even that was hard to find when clinging to Adam as if the world was about to end.
Nosing against the heartbeat racing in Adam's neck, Peter knows he won't be able to breathe until he can answer. Pulling himself back together using his hold on Adam to do so, when he finally finds his voice, it holds no waver. As muffled as it is against Adam's skin, against the firm blockade of his own emotions, Peter finds it in himself to make the words heard over the bood pounding in his head. "I forgive you."
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A few months ago, more like what amounts to years in Peter's mind, the answer to that question would have been instantaneous. He didn't believe he'd ever be capable of forgiving someone that had betrayed him so wholly. That had helped lead him down a path that only he felt guilty for; the death of millions of people.
And yet, at the same time, he would have never believed himself capable of forgiving Sylar. There was a time and a place for holding onto his anger, and it was long gone. It had been lost right along with everything else, and now, he couldn't convince himself of the worth of his own dwindling bitterness. All that was left was directed inwards, vying for the award of how many things he could find to blame himself for. But even that was hard to find when clinging to Adam as if the world was about to end.
Nosing against the heartbeat racing in Adam's neck, Peter knows he won't be able to breathe until he can answer. Pulling himself back together using his hold on Adam to do so, when he finally finds his voice, it holds no waver. As muffled as it is against Adam's skin, against the firm blockade of his own emotions, Peter finds it in himself to make the words heard over the bood pounding in his head. "I forgive you."