(This story takes place right after Sylar gets his powers back at the end of season two! I'm playing Sylar and Mohinder, and Jet is playing Peter and Matt!)
Stumbling down the alley way; he could feel his powers coming back to him. Sylar's face split in a self-satisfied grin. No longer was he subdued to walk the earth without his newly reacquired gifts. He had earned them! The rest of them didn't deserve what he had. His mother had told him he was special, and he knew no matter how much he had doubted her before; he knew it to be true now. They would all know the truth soon enough.
Every sound amplified as he honed in on Dale's contribution to his ever growing list of abilities. Sylar searched his mind tentatively unlocking the hidden talents he'd stolen until his mind lurched and his eyes flickered back into recesses of his eyelids. His memory exploded into pictures and fragmented speech like a downloading computer as he fought to recall Mohinder's list. It didn't take long; his smile grew into a Cheshire cat's grin as he mentally processed the next closest 'special' person.
Her name was Alice Monroe, a twenty-two year old college student of biology at CUNY in Queens. Just a short ride on the subway and a couple mile walk, and Sylar was entering her neighborhood. He glanced around taking in his surroundings as he strolled down the sidewalk. The buildings looked like cookie-cutter doubles of red bricked apartments with sets of gray concrete steps. Most of the windows on the bottom floors had bars firmly built into the building's structure and all the fire escapes were pulled up from the street's access signifying the crime rate in the area to be proliferating. Sylar detested these neighborhoods. It reminded him of walking to work at his father's shop, reminded him of his mother, of his old life, of being Gabriel.
He shook his head grimacing as if he'd tasted something fowl. He wasn't Gabriel anymore, he was Sylar! Sylar pushed all of those memories away, he was different now. He was special now. And he was about to become even more special he thought as a smirk played across his lips. 1425 NE Bruins Ave. He was here. He climbed the stairs finding her last name easily on the apartment's intercom and depressing the button for Apartment 3E.
"Hello?" the young woman queried.
Sylar responded in a cheerful tone, "Is this Miss Alice Monroe?"
The voice on the other end replied, "This is her; May I help you?"
Sylar smiled wickedly retorting to himself, "More than you know." He tuned his super sensitive hearing to the door lock as he used his telekinesis to move the tumblers into place and unlock the door.
He moved deftly down the hall to the stairwell leading up, and before long, he was standing in front of her door hands twitching in anticipation. What new power would he be acquiring this time? It was like Christmas because he never knew what he was going to get. Sylar gripped the door handle mentally willing Zane's powers to liquefy it. As it dissolved, he gently pushed the door open to peek inside.
The sound of clamoring dishes and the faucet running could be heard, and Sylar didn't miss a beat as he moved up behind her and whispered into her ear, "Hello Alice, you've got something of mine, and I've come to collect it."
The girl gasped dropping the plate in her hand to crash on the floor as she spun around in utter shock to face him. He enjoyed the rush of power he felt at her panicked expression as he thought, "Yes, you should be afraid." She tried to run from him, but he snagged her arm in one hand as he brought his other hand up to make his trademark incision across her forehead.
The girl started to scream grasping the arm that held her in place. Her hands began to glow a bright white and Sylar could feel a surge of energy blast through the very core of his being. He immediately released the girl as he was blown back across the kitchen his face contorting as his whole body was wracked with pain. Every joint hurt, every muscle burned like it was on fire. He stumbled awkwardly back as the girl, still screaming, ran out the door of her apartment.
Sylar collapsed onto the floor withering and screaming himself as he was unable to do anything more. After two minutes, of what seemed an eternity to Sylar the pain finally subsided. He was drained of all his energy weakened by the girl's attack.
He hadn't comprehended yet that his clothes were ten sizes to big as he wearily stood. The color drained from his face, and his eyes widened in horror at the fact he was just tall enough to be eye level with the kitchen's faucet. The realization of his predicament finally registered as he growled in dismay, "That bitch shrank me!"
His heart began to race as his face fell in shock. Through the reflection of the stainless steel he could see his face. She hadn't shrank him, she'd regressed him into a child. He backed away from the sink taken aback by this new found knowledge. Numbness washed over him as his back hit the refrigerator door and he slid down into a crouch. This was not good. Being shrank he could deal with; there were lots of short people in the world, but being regressed into the form of a child? That was going to cause problems on a lot of levels.
After the initial overwhelming shock had subsided; he sighed grateful of the fact that at least his mind was intact. Sylar stood and walked through the apartment and into the bathroom; he wanted to see himself, to in some way really verify that his previously conceived notion was true. The youthful face that stared back at him he recognized as himself at around age seven. He ran his hands up and down the sides of his cheeks still in awe before his super hearing brought him back to reality. He could hear people moving around down the hall to enter their apartment and knew he had to get out of here before the girl returned with the authorities or worse, came back and zapped him into a fetus!
Sylar ran into the girl's bedroom to search for something to wear. He had to settle on a plain white T-shirt and a pair of black booty shorts, which thankfully hung almost to his knees and had a tie to hold them on his hips. He would have to get new clothes ASAP! Even more important would be a pair of shoes he thought begrudgingly as he stared down at his bare feet. That would come later. Right now, he was starving! He raided the girl's refrigerator stuffing his face with half of a cold cut and pocketed an orange for later. On his way out, he noticed a crumpled up wad of ones and a five lying on the coffee table. He snagged the money up greedily and headed out the door.
Several hours later, Sylar had been walking aimlessly trying to decide what to do next. He looked up at the sky realizing that it was starting to get dark, and he would have to find someplace to hide. Being in the body of a seven year old was already irking him. He was tired, his feet hurt from walking on concrete with no shoes, and because he no longer had his jacket he was cold.
The frown he was already wearing contorted into a pout as an overwhelming feeling of helplessness washed over him. The feeling made anger well up in him; these familiar feelings brought him back once again to Gabriel, the man he'd left behind. He thought restlessly, "This isn't a big deal, I still have my powers right?" The conformation did little to ease his worry as he climbed into an apartment's segmented covey of bushes. He tried to sleep, but ended up lying there for an hour before his uncomfortably drove him to move on.
He dusted as much of the dirt he'd accumulated from lying on the ground off ,which wasn't much seeing as he was wearing a white T-shirt, and wandered into a diner to get out of the cold and sat at one of the tables waiting expectantly. The two waitresses in the diner exchanged looks before one came over to speak with him.
Her name tag read June, and she leaned down into a squat to get eye level with him as she asked in a Southern accent, "Hi there honey. Are you hungry?"
Sylar had turned to face her responding quickly, "I want a coffee with two creams."
The girl looked surprised at his response as she asked, "Where are your parents?"
Sylar was already in a bad mood, and this line of questioning was expected but also served to annoy him further as he spat, "I'm not a child. I've got a medical condition… like Emmanuel Lewis… the guy that played Webster?"
The waitress' eyes glazed over in uncertainty before some sort of recognition of what he was talking about dawned on her, and she smiled, "Oh yea! I've seen that show! That's got that cute little black kid in it don't it?"
Sylar ground out, "Yea. Now, can I please get my coffee?"
The waitress feeling that she had offended him shook her head quickly replying, "Oh sure thing sir."
She went back to the counter and poured him his coffee returning with a bowl of creams to place next to him as she added, "Sorry about the confusion… you just look… well you just look so young! But you probably get that all the time don't you?"
Sylar nodded, "Yea." He didn't look at her instead turning his attention to the TV hanging on the wall where the news was playing. He hoped the woman would take the hint that he wasn't in a conversational mood.
After getting no more than a one word response the woman's smile dropped slightly and she went back to her co-worker. He could hear them whispering about him from the other side of the diner, but it didn't matter, as long as he could stay here out of the cold for awhile. He pulled the wad of cash out of his pocket. Twelve dollars; it was enough to get an egg breakfast. That would let him stay least a few hours, and that would be late enough for him to find a suitable place to hide until morning.
He had ordered the breakfast when the waitress had come back to refill his coffee and while eating, he zoned out on the news. He had almost choked on his eggs when a blurb about congressman, Nathan Petrelli, came across the screen. The news was just talking about his political standing and his recent hiatus. That wasn't what Sylar had cared about. Peter had flashed across the screen in one of the highlight reels being noted as in the man's family, his brother to be precise.
A rush of adrenaline coursed through him as new ideas sprung to mind. Sylar turned waving the waitress over to him hurriedly.
June rushed over asking, "Is there something the matter with your food sweetheart?"
Sylar shook his head excitedly, "Oh no, no. The food's fine; do you happen to have a phone book?"
The night had been sleepless. He had hoped on the subway shortly after hurriedly finishing his breakfast and riding it until the seven O'clock work crowd had started to board to eat up time; it helped that it was warm and in the early hours secluded. He stared down at the receipt in his hand. Scrawled across it was an address to a Manhattan apartment for a Peter Petrelli.
Sylar beamed feeling quite clever. He would find Peter; he remembered his many powers, one of them being the power to become invisible. He licked his lips at the thought of having that power among all of Peter's powers. And with that ability alone, it wouldn't matter how old he looked, he could… get away with murder. He chuckled to himself as he exited the subway.
It didn't take more than an hour to find Peter's apartment, and he was reassured of the fact he actually lived at the residence when he saw Peter's name in the row of tenant's mailboxes. His energy renewed at the thought of taking the man's powers for his own, but the day before and the sleepless night were catching up to him, and after another hour of waiting, Sylar needed to rest a little. He sat inside the apartment's steps dozing slightly as he waited for Peter to come out.