Ask Sylar what's the best day of his life and he'll grin maliciously.
He could mention the day he smashed Brian Davis in the head with a rock; the day he realized his ability to take things apart, to see what makes them tick, could open the door of impossibilities for the pathetically dull watchmaker.
He might mention the day he first met Mohinder, the charming but incompetent son of Dr. Chandra Suresh. Mohinder may not have been as steadfast as his father but he was ten times more fun to play with. Especially when Sylar told him that his father would rather spend his time discussing evolution and genetics with "Patient Zero" than his own son.
Mohinder is like a pocket watch that's been over wound one too many times too tight—Sylar needs to only give one last turn of the cogs and the young scientist will finally break apart.
There's also the day he sliced Claire Bennett's head open and extracted her healing power while she lay helpless and scared shitless on a table. He can remember the faint whimpers of fear while he meddled and chatted with her. And her daddy, such a powerful uncompromising man, couldn't save her this time. It's only fair payback after Noah Bennett dared to lock him up like an animal in a zoo.
Ask Gabriel Gray what's the best day of his life and he'll become quiet as a mouse. He'll sit there on the bench and glance at the floor, trying to remember what it means to be truly happy and selfless and free of all worries. What it means to feel safe. To feel love.
A-A-A
He's only five years old but he gets headaches in school. He squints at the squiggles on the blackboard, trying to make sense of the green and white blurs which are really words scrawled on the wall. He rubs his eyes during playgroup and winces when Teacher turns off the lights for a slideshow. While the other children "oooh" and "ahhh" over the brightly-colored pictures that shine onto the canvas, Gabriel can only sit and pout in frustration. Because it's all just a blur to him; it doesn't make any sense.
Teacher thinks Gabriel isn't getting enough sleep. The comment makes Gabriel fell crankier than ever and he bangs his hand hard on the table, upsetting two cups of juice and a box of crayons. Five minutes in the Time Out corner only makes little Gabriel even more feisty and determined to show Teacher how mad he is. He bangs his feet nosily against the wall to get her attention but Teacher just ignores him.
When Mommy comes to fetch Gabriel after school, he watches Teacher take Mommy over to a corner and say something in a low hushed voice. Gabriel knows they're talking about him and he dreads to see Mommy's pretty face frown at him with disapproval. He is rather surprised when Mommy's voice relaxes from Teacher's words and there's not a trace of anger in her eyes.
"Really? I'll make an appointment with the optometrist this afternoon. Gabriel did say he was having trouble seeing at home…"
Mommy knows just what to do. She always does.
She bundles him up in his red coat and takes him to a tall white shiny building. They push through the double doors and come into a room that is bright and airy with lots of chairs and magazines. Gabriel holds her hand and continues to squint hard so he can see everything in proper focus. There are rows and rows of gleaming round glasses on the shelves and strange posters of various parts of the human eye plastered on the walls. He is distracted by a pile of children's books but knowing they're useless to him now, Gabriel busies himself with the Leggos in a cardboard box for ten minutes.
Mommy flips a magazine while ten quiet minutes pass…and then a door opens up revealing a smiling lady holding a clipboard.
"Mrs. Gray? We're ready for you and Gabriel."
Clutching his mother's hand in fierce protection, Gabriel walks through the last door and comes to a small room where a large chair is propped up in the corner. Attached to it is a peculiar machine with knobs and dials on it. He winces inside, remembering the horrible fiasco at the dentist last month.
The doctor is an old man with a pair of tortoise rimmed glasses perched atop a long thin angled nose and graying hair. His voice has a slight twang and bouncy edge that doesn't seem fairly paired up with the wrinkled face.
He shakes Gabriel's hand cheerily. "How d'ye do Mr. Gray?" asks Dr. Peterson. Gabriel just buries his face in his mother's arm. "Ah, I see," Dr. Peterson nods. "Would you like to hold your mother's hand while we play a game?"
The word "game" has the positive effect on Gabriel. Dr. Peterson puts a small blue plastic seat up into the massive chair so Gabriel can sit up properly. By now Gabriel's curiosity has been quipped and he looks around the room, wondering when the game will begin. But first Dr. Peterson takes out a small white bottle and asks Gabriel to look up at the ceiling.
"Ow, ow," he begs. "Mommy, make it stop." Gabriel hates it when the doctor squirts drops into his eyes, making them sting and tear up. But his mother just strokes his arm and dabs at his eyes with a tissue. Dr. Peterson says something about "pupils dilating" and adds "brave boy" before putting away the eye drops. Then he slides into a seat near Gabriel, turns off the lights, and asks Gabriel to name the letters on the wall.
The game isn't too hard for Gabriel, who answers Dr. Peterson's questions and points to the letters and numbers he can see on the wall. He feels the doctor shine a bright yellow light into his eyes and tries to focus on the blue spots that are dancing in front of his face. Dr. Peterson asks Gabriel to look through several lenses and choose the ones that he can see the best out of. Mommy adds how smart her son is in school, causing him to grin through a tooth-gapped smile.
"Wow! You've already lost four teeth?" Dr. Peterson asks Gabriel. He clamps his hands on his knees in surprise. "What a big boy you are, Gabriel! Big enough for some brand new glasses."
"Glasses?" Gabriel stares at the doctor's old spectacles in hesitancy.
"That's why you've been getting headaches in school, Gabriel. You'll be able to see much better when you pick out a special pair made just for you," Mommy assures him. "They've got all different shapes and sizes to choose from."
The thought seems interesting to Gabriel, though his eyes still hurt when Dr. Peterson flicks the lights back on and the blinding white flash makes him cover his face with his hands. Mommy assures him that it'll only be bright for a little while longer and his eyes will return to normal very soon.
"We'll see him next Thursday," assures Dr. Peterson. He waves goodbye to Gabriel, who tries to keep the sunglasses on to protect his eyes from the hot flash of a late evening sunset. Mommy says he was very good at the game although Gabriel's eyes still itch in pain. "Stupid eye drops," he thinks to himself.
He vaguely recalls dozing off in the car on the way home from school and sitting down to dinner that night. They have meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Daddy seems a bit angry at the table. He mentions something about "expensive eye care" but Mommy doesn't seem upset at all.
"The insurance will take care of it, Samson. And just think how smart and handsome he'll look in a new pair of glasses!" Mommy reaches across the table to help Gabriel from getting mashed potatoes on his shirt.
"It had better help him improve in school," grunts Samson Gray. "Tuition costs enough as it is."
Daddy wolfs down the rest of his dinner and goes back into his work shed like a dragon slinking back to his cave. Sometimes he lets Gabriel come inside and examine the bits of wire and wood on the work bench, which pleases Gabriel very much. He likes to see Daddy at work and help him gather up the nails that have fallen on the ground. Sometimes Daddy lets him use the pliers to snip off pieces of twine if he's careful enough not to cut himself.
"Can Daddy take me out in the wagon tomorrow?" he asks Mommy after dinner.
She dries a plate in the sink and sets it in the rack to dry. "Not tomorrow, Gabriel. You've got school."
Gabriel looks down at the floor with a frown. He really wanted to go out with Daddy tomorrow, especially when the leaves look so bright and yellow in the morning sunlight. But Mommy kneels down to her son and brings a hand under his chin, tilting his face up to her. His deep brown eyes meet her smile.
"But I will tell you what we can do," Mommy suggests. "We've got to pick up your glasses next Thursday morning. How would you like to skip school and spend a day out with me?"
A-A-A
Gabriel has the best day of his life next Thursday.
His mother says he is going to get his glasses as soon as Dr. Peterson's office is open, which means Gabriel gets to sleep in half an hour late that morning. There's enough time for Mommy to fix them French toast with honey for breakfast. They eat at the table while she sips her second cup of coffee and hums "My Favorite Things" from The Sound of Music. Gabriel puts on his favorite green-checkered shirt for good luck and double knots his shoes to make sure he can run and skip at ease.
Today there are no strange tests and no yucky eye drops at Dr. Peterson's office. The doctor lifts a few pairs of glasses down from a shelf and shows them to Gabriel.
"Which ones do you like?" He carefully lifts pair by pair into the air and instructs Gabriel how to put them out without getting smudges on the lenses.
Gabriel tries on a pair of square green glasses but they make him feel awkward and small. He likes the round ones with a metallic sheen and another pair with a tiny black dot pattern on the frames. There's a bright red pair that looks great until he puts them on and almost has to laugh at how silly they look—like clown glasses. Mommy suggests another few pairs and helps Gabriel narrow the list down from five to three favorites.
Finally, Gabriel tries on a pair of glasses with a thick dark blue rim on the top and two small gray dots in the corners. The doctor adjusts the glasses until they feel snug on Gabriel's face and tilts the small desk mirror towards Gabriel's face.
"How's that feel, son?"
Gabriel blinks in the mirror and grins. He feels two feet taller and ten years older. And what's more, he can see much better. He can notice the spiraling fabric pattern of the carpet, the little embroidered flowers on his mother's dress, and even the wrinkles around the doctor's cool blue eyes. Dr. Peterson asks Gabriel to read one last line of letters and nods in approval when Gabriel rattles them off quickly. Gabriel shakes the doctor's hand for the last time and walks out of the office with Mommy, his chest thrust out in pride and his head held high.
Once outside, Gabriel's eyes dart everywhere and take in everything he can see: cars, houses, mailboxes, signs, and people. Even the leaves on the trees look tiny and exquisitely delicate with their ever-changing patterns from green to gold to red. Gabriel jumps up in the air and lands into a pile of leaves with a satisfying CRUNCH. Mommy laughs and swings his hand while they stroll down the street and get into the car.
"How about a treat?" Mommy suggests.
It's just past lunchtime and Gabriel is hungry. He wonders if they'll get sandwiches from a vendor like they usually do but Mommy as a better idea. She drives them to a diner that plays funky music and has big shiny chrome stools that are taller than Gabriel lined up near the counter. They slid into a booth and pick up the menus. Gabriel adjusts his glasses and slowly reads aloud the words printed in large black letters.
"Apple pie," he says. "Fresh ohh-range juice. Frrrrench fries." Mommy nods in approval.
Gabriel is a bit curious when the waitress comes to their table but Mommy smiles at him knowingly and orders him a Rocky Road Sundae and a Strawberry Parfait for herself.
"You don't have to eat the whole thing," she reminds Gabriel when the order comes in seven minutes later. The smiling waitress puts an orange place mat and glass of water in front of Gabriel before bringing him his ice cream. His eyes widen in surprise behind his glasses when she sets down a huge glass dish brimming with brown and white ice cream.
For Gabriel, ice cream has always been a frozen disc served inside a styrofoam cup and eaten with a plastic spoon in a school cafeteria. It's a far cry from this massive concoction of rich chocolate and vanilla ice cream, frothy cream, rainbow sprinkles, and crunchy nuts topped with a ruby-colored maraschino cherry.
Gabriel digs into his sundae, pops a spoonful into his mouth, and his eyes brighten up in awed delight.
This is what ice cream is supposed to taste like.
It's soft as feathers and slides down his throat easily. It's like eating clouds and rainbows with a ribbon of liquid gold running through the ice cream in the form of a bittersweet hot fudge sauce.
Gabriel shovels in his ice cream like there's no tomorrow while Mommy laughs and daintily eats her strawberry parfait.
Bliss, pure bliss, is covered with sprinkles and devoured messily while the person you love is watching you and glad that you are enjoying yourself.
When Gabriel has had his fill and his mother wipes the chocolate stains off his mouth, they are ready to leave the diner. But his wayward eye catches the gumball colors of a vending machine and the little plastic eggs of green, yellow, and red wink at him from behind the glass case like gems. He stops and presses his face to the case until he can see the bouncy balls, neon rings, rubber lizards, and other various treasures.
"Would you like one of those, Gabriel?" His mother is already fishing into her purse for a dime. "Well, this is a special day after all."
She hands him the coin and Gabriel inserts it into the slot. He twists the big knob all the way until there is a clicking sound and a plastic egg falls out of the machine. Gabriel picks it up and pries the green casing off. Inside is a smart little Hot Wheels car with red racing stripes on it. It keeps him preoccupied all the way home until he can show Daddy his glasses.
Daddy just grunts in approval of the glasses. But when Gabriel runs into the workshop and is able to find all of the nails in less than ten minutes times, Daddy ruffles up Gabriel's hair in his way of showing he's satisfied. Maybe now they'll get out the wagon and go riding on Sunday.
Even if they don't, Gabriel doesn't mind that much. He's been with Mommy for the day, he has grown-up glasses, and he's just eaten the most delicious food in the world. After dinner he climbs onto his bed and rolls the car back and forth until his head droops down and he begins to nod off to sleep.
He's slightly aware of his mother's presence when she takes the glasses off his face and carefully lays them down on the night table. Then she pulls the quilt over his body until he's warm and tenderly kisses her son on the cheek. Gabriel hears her murmuring "good night" and "sweet dreams" before she shuts the door behind her.
A-A-A
Ask Gabriel if he remembers anything and he'll fall silent, too scared to face the truth.
Ask Sylar if he cares at all and his blood with boil with rage, too blind to care at all.