Disclaimer: I own none of this.

Author's Note: This is just a drabble I wrote a while ago. It wasn't really intended to be a drabble, but nothing ever came from it. I'm not going to lie; I'm a little behind on Heroes episodes, but I know this is not entirely consistent with what happened. (I think it's not entirely inconsistent either, though, but I don't know exactly what happened.)

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Giving Up Nathan

Summary: Sylar decides what to do now that he finally has his body back. Drabble.

Spoilers Through: 04x12--The Fifth Stage

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Sylar hated everything about sharing his body with Nathan Petrelli. It was his body, and yet sometimes it felt as alien to him as Parkman's had. Things came back to him, things he had done when he was not him. Nathan's weaknesses flowed through him, stopped him from killing that evil bitch Angela. And again, it might be petty, but he felt the need to emphasize that it was his body. Nathan did not belong there; Nathan did not have a right to get in his way. How many times did he have to kill the man?

As he fell from that rooftop, as Nathan let go and stopped fighting, Sylar hoped it would be the last time. He felt Nathan leave, felt a space opening up inside of him, as though there was room for him again. He got up from his crash landing, which, when everything was said and done, felt a little over the top considering that Nathan could fly. Sylar supposed he could not fault the man for being a little melodramatic with his death. Personally, Sylar had always appreciated some theatrics.

He walked off in the first direction his feet took him. It seemed that after everything he went through, he did not care anymore. With every little twist his life took, less and less mattered to him. He would kill Peter eventually. He would kill Angela, and Parkman, and definitely Bennet, but there was no rush. He had forever. They didn't. He might as well take his time and let the suspense set in.

Sylar headed first for Nathan's apartment, where there would be clothes and money, both of which would be very helpful. On some level, he hoped there would be someone waiting there for him. His body had healed from the last fight, and he was ready for another. Unfortunately, there was no one there. He grabbed up some clothes, Nathan's memories returning with every item he touched. This was the suitcase he used when he went to see Meredith Gordan in Texas. He got this shirt for Christmas two years before. Sylar needed to stop. He was not using his ability on purpose. He should be able to touch things without seeing everything that ever happened to them. He had been touching things this entire time without using that ability. This was Nathan, still fighting, like an idiot. He could not win; he was already dead.

Sylar picked up one last shirt, just a plain white v-neck. There was a carnival. It was coming back to him. A carnival with people like him, lots and lots of evolved humans, just ripe for the picking. They knew him there. They trusted him. He could get his fill of powers before anyone even realized what was going on. It slowly built in him; something mattered again. He threw some valuable items in with the clothes. (One was a priceless family heirloom, he remembered now.) and headed out to find those incredible carneys.