This is a sequel/ continuation of a one-shot I did earlier called Life is Beautiful, so it will probably make more sense to read that first before this one. and of course, I own neither Heroes nor Star Trek. Any one or any thing or concepts you do not recognize, is mine.

~*~Immortality. Men of ancient times would search the earth to find the means to escape Death. Power, greed, lust; there are many reasons why one would want to become immortal. But what comes next once the unattainable is finally attained? Those seeking adventure in life would find no greater adventure than Death after a long and fulfilling life. As for me, a power-seeking killer, I have escaped The Reaper. But what is life if there is no one to share it with? My Sylar persona had long ago died. Back then, even though I went to bed alone, I did not truly feel as if was alone. Though I was feared, people knew who I was and I did not feel alone……. ~*~

It is strange how seeing Spock up close for the first time brought all those memories to me. It is three months later, and I had not expected to see Spock at the current establishment where I was currently dining. I was reading the science reports given by the Enterprise crew. My chest ached when the lightning storm in space was the result of a singularity causing a rift in space-time, then and one twenty-five years ago. I know about space-time. Time travel is a fickle thing to mess with….

As I read the report, I hear a crisp voice, followed by laughter. Spock's name is spoken and I turn and see a young man who could almost pass as my double. Though Spock inherited his father's Vulcan ears and brows, he clearly has Amanda's eyes and my bone structure. Disregarding the current company Spock was with-I know them to be Uhura, Kirk, McCoy, Sulu, and Chekov-I walk up to him.

"Hello, Spock," I say. "You've gotten taller since the last time I saw you."

Spock gives me a curious look, "Do I know you?"

I shake my head. "No. But I know you. And your mother."

"You seem…familiar," Spock continues. "I do not recognize your face, but I feel we have met. How did you know my mother?"

"We're family." I see the curious looks from Spock's companions, but I continue to ignore them, as their presence is insignificant to me at the moment.

"Family?" Spock says. "I have met all of my human relatives at Mother's memorial, your face was not among them."

"I know, I regret not being there, but I could not risk being seen," I tell my grandson.

Spock's female companion, Uhura, speaks, "Why don't we all find a seat? That way we can all catch up."

I shake my head, "What I have to say to Spock is only disclosed to him and him alone. After today, it is up to his discretion to inform you as his closest confidants about what I am about to tell him. Believe me, because the underlying information is something that cannot be discovered."

I direct my gaze back to Spock. As a Vulcan, he knows the importance of privacy, but I can see him struggle with the terms I gave, because anything that has to do with Amanda and her connection to her son brought his humanity to the surface. Emotions overtook logic in the end.

With a stoic face, Spock gazed at his human companions and finally laced his hand with Uhura's. "Whatever you have to tell me," he says, finally, "you can discuss in front of them. I am a patient man should you decide to do so."

"Then you will be waiting for a very long time," I say, turning away as the group huddles around Spock. Despite my enhanced hearing, I chose not to listen in. He had made an emotional decision, and with that I do not think him ready for the truth. I pick up the documents and place a few credits on the table to pay for my meal.

I am approximately two steps out of the diner when I hear a gruff voice with a Southern twang, "Excuse me, sir." I turn around and see McCoy at the entrance with Spock at his side. "Go on!" he hisses to Spock. "Git!"

I allow myself a smirk. "I see you have changed your mind."

"Yes. It was illogical of me to involve others in a conversation that did not concern them, especially when you declared it a private matter," Spock says.

"My ride's just over there," I motion over to my hover-car across the street. "I'll take you to my place." Despite the fact that cars today have an automated system that not only unlocks the doors, but also opens one or both doors with a touch of a button, I use my telekinesis to do so. Spock does not notice the difference. I slide the two by one key card into its designated ignition slot, and the car hums to life, rising six inches off the pavement.

Driving along the interstate, I speak, "I know this is sudden, but I want you to know that we are family, and that there is a reason we never met."

"The resemblance is uncanny, but to believe we are family without further explanation would not be logical," Spock tells me. "However, I am curious as to what you know. I do not think you pose of any imminent threat, so, as the phrase goes, I should 'hear you out'."

"Good," I chuckle.

I pull into the driveway of a two-story home of a sleek, twenty-third century design. Inside, however, is, "Fascinating," Spock says, taking in the interior of my home. "You display a living unit of archaic design."

I swallow a laugh as Spock enters the living room and quirks a brow as he stares at the light fixture on the ceiling. "Computer, turn light settings to seventy percent." When nothing happens, Spock stands in the dark room, looking at me, "Your home computing system is malfunctioning."

"It looks of an archaic design because it is archaic," I explain. "I restructured the house to resemble turn-of-the-millennium tech design." I reach over to the light switch on the wall and flipped it, flooding light into the room. "The lights work fine." From the back door, I hear scratching sounds emitting from the other side of the door. I open the door to reveal a large, male Siberian husky, "Hey, Kavik," I greet.

"Turn-of-the-millennium era, if I am correct, dates twenty years before and twenty years after the new millennium," Spock inquires. "Why choose in an era of such setting?"

"It is familiar. If there is something to learn about humans is that they find solace in what is familiar," I tell him. "Spock, I want you to meet Kavik."

Spock only ignores the dog. "How can you find familiarity in an era you have not experienced? Also, by reverting attention to the animal, you appear to be averting the question."

"I find familiarity in that era because I lived it."

Spock tilts his head, "Impossible. While human life expectancy has surpassed their centennial years, there is no record of any human reaching their second centennial, let alone nearing a third. Therefore, it is only logical to believe you are not human."

I shrug. From the refrigerator, I pull two bottled waters. I offer one to Spock, but his hands remain stiffly behind his back. I shrug again and lean against the bar counter separating the kitchen and the living room. "I'm human alright," I tell him. "It is just a little complicated."

"Then explain yourself," Spock stoically demands.

"What do you know of the Eugenics Wars?"

"It was a series of conflicts during the 1990s, of scientists trying to create super-humans by genetic engineering and selective breeding."

"What if I told you historians got that all wrong?" I ask of him.

"How so?"

"It didn't happen in the 1990s, but the 2000s. It was to give ordinary people artificial abilities, abilities beyond imagination," I say, though Spock only gives another head tilt and a quirk of the brow. "Telekinesis, telepathy, teleportation, flight."

"While some species exhibit moderate telepathy, you are suggesting the impossible," Spock declares. "There is no probable way any species can do what you are suggesting possible for humans."

"Then let me show you," I open the bottle and pour the contents out. But instead of splashing onto the floor, the water appears to flow a-top an invisible surface. Once the bottle is empty, and the water is just floating between us, I twirl my hand counter clock-wise. The water swirls and soon funnels downward, like a miniature hurricane storm.

I look over to Spock, and his expression is as human as he is willing to express, both brows quirked and mouth agape. "Fascinating," he manages.

As the water continues to swirl, I reach out with a blue tinged hand and the water freezes. Further concentrating, the ice disintegrates into snow flakes and dances to the floor where Kavik licks off the floor.

Spock finds his voice, "Am I correct to assume that there is an ability explaining your presence at the turn of the millennium?"

I nod, "Rapid cellular regeneration, new cells constantly, instantly replacing old ones. Any wound healed in seconds, illness succumbed to an over abundant white cell count, and limbs and organs can re-grow if necessary. What this means is: I can never get sick, never age, and I cannot die.

"I have lived a long time. I went by dozens of alias, hiding under just as many guises. Now, I am going by my given name of Gabriel Gray. But over fifty years ago, it was Grayson," recognition appears in Spock's human eyes.

"You are my grandfather," Spock states. "Mother spoke of you often."

"All good things, I hope," I attempt to joke.

"Yes. She would often say that if I were to surgically modify my ears and brows to appear human," Spock says, "I could pass as an exact duplicate of you. It seems to finally make sense of her preference of turn-of-the-millennium genre of music and vids."

"How so?" I ask.

"Whenever my father questioned her about her preference to such distasteful entertainment, she would reply that it was what she grew up listening to, because it was something her father grew up with," Spock allows a slight, microscopic smirk, "remarkably accurate, I should say."

A somber expression overtook my face, "I hope she knew how much I loved her and her mother."

"She did," he tells me. "She told me stories how she would dream of you, especially when she needed you most."

"It is another ability I have. I can enter dreams, create an environment in their sleep," I explain.

"She had trouble dreaming of you while on Vulcan," Spock says. "With each visit to Terra, she dreamt less and less of you."

"It was a way to gradually let each other go," I say. "But I always kept watch over her, and you, always from a distance. I have an ability to know the location of any living organism wherever they are on Earth." I shrug, "But it becomes more of a guestimation- an estimated guess- the farther a person is from point of origin."

"Why did you leave?" Spock wants to know.

"My family did not know what I could do," I tell him. "I could not burden them with the knowledge that I was born with a genetic mutation that allows me to things one could only imagine in a fantasy. I was born with only one ability, I count not tell them how I came to obtain the others."

"But if you started with one ability, then how did you end with multiple abilities?"

"I had to expose their brain to examine how their ability worked, and to apply it to my genetic structure. Their death was my gain," I tell Spock with a somber tone. "For the first time, I was ashamed of my actions and what I was, and still am, capable of doing. I did not want my wife to know she married a serial killer."

"You admit to still being able to take one's life," Spock states, and for the first time since he arrived at my home, he changes his posture to what seems a defensive stance.

"I am not afraid to taking someone's life, but not in cold blood. Not anymore."

"You may be my grandfather, but you have just admitted to a military commanding officer of murder. I have no choice but to report you to the authorities…" I roll my eyes and use my sound manipulation to prevent his voice from being heard. His hands go to his throat as he attempts to be heard, only to mouth the word fascinating.

"Dude, Spock," I say, exasperate, "it's been almost a hundred years. The statutes of limitations have long since past. There is nothing to be done about it now. Trust me that I have no ill intent towards you or your friends or anyone else.

"Can you trust me?"

"Yes," Spock says, surprising himself that he has his voice back. "I am uncertain how to approach this to my companions, or if I should. I understand now why you preferred not to speak of this in their presence."

"As I said, it is up to your discretion what to tell them."

Spock asks, "What do you prefer?"

"I would rather them not knowing, but I have a feeling that you will have to tell them something," I surmise.

"If you wish your secret to remain so, then so a secret it shall remain," Spock says. "To my companions, you are a distant relative to which I had no acknowledgment prior to today."

"I thought Vulcans found it illogical to lie," I ask of Spock.

"On the contrary," he says with a quirk of a brow, "I am only omitting certain facts. You are a distant relative I was not aware about prior to today."

A hailing signal emits from within Spock's pocket. He pulls out a communicator, "Spock here."

"Kirk here," it says. "Just checking up on you, it's been almost two hours and we just now realized the name of your relative had eluded us."

Spock nods, "Yes, I am with Gabriel at his current place of residence. I believe our discussion has come to a conclusion."

"Good," Kirk says. "Do I need to send someone to pick you up?"

"No," I say, loud enough for Kirk to hear me. "I can take Spock where ever he needs to go."

After ending the transmission and we are heading back to my car, Spock turns to me, "When will be the next appropriate meeting? I look forward to hearing more about Mother…and of your life prior to meeting Grandmother."

I allow myself a smile, "Whenever's convenient for you, I've got all the time in the world." Before entering the car, I remember something and rush into the house to grab something. Coming back out, I hand Spock the latest generation of the iPod. "Here, it is a music player. It contains just about every song your mom and I like to listen to from the twentieth and twenty-first century rock/alternative genre, and some movies. It was something she and I used to do. Maybe it will bring you closer to Amanda, sharing something she had before meeting Sarek."

Spock held the iPod close to him, "Thank you."

A/N: I hope it seems like a good story, and I apologize if it seems slow. I felt I had to build a connection between Spock and Sylar/Gabriel before bringing in anyone else. And I also want to include Starquilter57 and Aphrodite420, I had gotten the idea of Amanda and Spock being rock fans from some of their stories, so I highly recommend checking out some of their ST2009 stuff.