Prologue
Sylar gazed upon the mirror image of himself, cocking his head to the left, his bottom lip quivering. His reflection's eyes blinked back from behind thick, black rimmed glasses, its hair parted over trimmed sideburns. Sylar raised his hands to his face, feeling the concave of his skull where his brown eyes lay staring. He ran his fingers over his eyebrows, let his fingertips trace a fan of lashes, but did not find glasses perched firmly on his own nose.
"A trick?" Sylar asked himself.
His reflection smiled shyly, fumbled nervously with the watch fastened around its wrist. "I don't think so," said the image, averting its eyes from Sylar's.
"I don't understand," said Sylar. "Are you… me?"
"I'm Gabriel," the mirror said, his eyes sad as he looked at his tangible counterpart. "We are not the same."
Sylar moved his head back and forth, looked as Gabriel stood still, watching passively. Then, Sylar raised one curled index finger to his own porcelain cheek, trailing it in the air above his skin, splitting the muscle as blood emerged from the wound that lay open like two parted lips. Gabriel, frightened, grasped his own cheek with both hands as crimson, hot liquid escaped through the cracks between his fingers. The red lips on Sylar's face pulled and stretched toward each other, ropes of muscle stitching itself until there was nothing but blood dribbling from his jaw bone. Gabriel's face continued bleeding from the fresh cut, his mouth in a surprised 'O' and his eyebrows furrowed in hurt.
"Huh," Sylar scoffed, tilting his head to one side. "I wonder how this works."
And with a stunted sigh, Gabriel looked up, and, grimacing, breathed the words: "Me too."
Sylar decides to visit an old friend. Gabriel fearfully and unwillingly tags along. OTP, TWT, Pre-slash, Bonding
Chapter 1: Make You or Break You
"Where are you going?" Gabriel asked timidly, peering from the mirror, pulling at the green cuff of his sleeve, running his fingers round and round the silver fastening.
Sylar's gray sweats dropped to his ankles and he pulled the pant legs over his black converses. Gabriel closed his eyes, focused on the images surfacing in his mind; clocks swirling, overlapping, ticking and hands in constant motion.
"Visiting an old friend," Sylar said, pausing, contemplating the information he should keep to himself. "Doctor Suresh."
"Chandra?" Gabriel opened his eyes, saw that Sylar had yet to dress himself, and closed them quickly.
Sylar smiled, a chuckle rising in his throat and escaping through his lips as he grabbed a pair of pants and a long sleeved shirt, both black and ironed smooth. "Mohinder," Sylar replied as he stretched his long legs into the confines of the ebony fabric, then pulled the shirt over his head, his long bangs coming undone and hanging in wisps before his eyes.
"You're getting rid of me," Gabriel said flatly, rubbing the closed wound on his cheek, his eyes growing darker with sadness.
"You thought I wouldn't?" Sylar smiled again.
"Why don't you kill me? You know you can."
"Because… I'm…"
"Curious," Gabriel finished, sighing.
"You know me so well," Sylar sneered sarcastically.
Gabriel trudged to the reflection of the couch, sat down and put his head in his hands. Sylar watched his former self, feeling the hurt in Gabriel's heart, felt Gabriel's tears rising in his own eyes. Gasping, Sylar rubbed his face.
"Be back soon," he said, trying to push evil between his teeth, yet sounding guilty all the same.
In the car, Sylar eyed the rearview mirror.
"What are you doing?"
Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "I didn't want to come. I don't have a choice, it seems."
Sylar rolled his eyes. Gabriel looked at his hands folded neatly in his lap. His thumbs moved in circular motions at the air. A whisper escaped from between his parted lips.
"What was that?" Sylar asked, his heart beating faster, that sinking feeling of dread emanating from Gabriel and piercing his heart.
"I was practicing," Gabriel said softly.
"Practicing what?"
"Begging for my life."
Sylar shifted in his seat, turned the key in the ignition.
"Don't worry," Sylar assured him, surprised at his own words. "I know how you feel."
Sylar pulled up to an apartment building, parallel parked near the sidewalk, and opened his door to feed coins to the parking meter.
"Why did you do that," Gabriel asked from a reflection on the body of the black CUBE.
"I don't want to draw attention to myself," Sylar replied.
Gabriel nodded before disappearing as Sylar approached the brick building, using telekinesis to buzz the door open.
As he climbed the steps in the building, Sylar felt Gabriel's dread grow stronger, and his stomach began to tighten in an excruciating knot. His fingers curled around the hand rail and he gritted his teeth, his tongue going dry and sticking to the roof of his mouth.
"Gabriel," Sylar said, looking around for a reflective surface. Finding none, he continued to speak to the air. "Gabriel, I'm not going to hurt you. I really don't want you gone; I just want to know what you are and how you got here."
Sylar felt the snake of fear uncoil and the pain of terror subsided.
"Thank you," Sylar said, though the words were both his and Gabriel's.
At Mohinder's door, Sylar contemplated breaking in, but ultimately decided to knock. He put his finger over the peep hole when he heard movement from within, the quick shuffle of feet and thin papers crunch like autumn leaves as they were stuffed into drawers.
"One moment," called Mohinder's voice, flustered.
Then, the sound of hands clamoring for the latch and the subsequent groaning as the hinges swung the door open.
Sylar still had his finger in position over the invisible peep hole, and Mohinder's first reaction was to flinch and duck from the notoriously lethal digit. Sylar held both of his hands up in surrender, his palms gleaming with sweat. He raised his eyebrows and spoke.
"Hello, Mohinder."
"Sylar," Mohinder stated flatly. He moved from the door frame, inviting the killer in. "What do you want?" Mohinder snapped as he shut the door.
"I'm here to kill you, of course," Sylar said, teeth shining as his lips curled into a wicked smile.
Mohinder's eyes grew wide and he glanced around for a weapon, though futile, he knew.
Sylar felt a heartbeat of fear swell through his veins and his head swirled. "I'm… kidding…," Sylar said softly, and both Mohinder and Gabriel relaxed.
"Then what?" Mohinder demanded loudly, anger stitched into his furrowed brows.
"I…" Sylar began, reluctant to admit a weakness.
"You what?"
"I… need your help," Sylar said dejectedly.
Mohinder scoffed and leaned against his desk, folding his arms against his chest.
"What makes you think…," Mohinder began.
"I could make you," Sylar said simply.
Mohinder shifted his weight from one foot to the other and sighed.
"What do you need me to do?" Mohinder asked hesitantly.
"There's something… someone inside me," Sylar said slowly, pondering each word, tonguing them out as if he were pushing them through his teeth. Mohinder stared blankly, puzzled. "Do you remember who I was?"
"You mean Gabriel Gray?" Mohinder stated.
Sylar nodded slightly, ran his fingers along the back of a chair.
"I woke up and he was just… there," Sylar said, fighting for the words to explain.
"Where?" Mohinder asked, eyes widening.
"In my reflection."
"Is he here now?"
Sylar glanced around, but saw no mirror. He strolled to Mohinder's cabinet and took a large bowl from the shelf, ran water into it, and waited for the ripples to turn stagnant. Then, sighing, he peered in at himself, only to find Gabriel's patient face staring back unblinkingly, his cheeks pale and his eyes still burdened with worry.
"Yes, he's here." Sylar spoke, not removing his eyes from Gabriel's steady gaze.
Mohinder leaned over Sylar's shoulder and looked into his reflection.
"I don't see anyone but you," Mohinder said carefully.
Sylar shrugged Mohinder from his shoulder and turned around, leaning against the sink.
"I feel what he feels," Sylar whispered. "It's… crippling. The emotions are so strong I can hardly breathe." Sylar shifted.
Mohinder smirked at the sad serial killer, no pity lingering in his eyes. "You're bonded with a split conscience. He's just as real as you are, maybe even more so because he came first. Did you think Gabriel just disappeared when you became Sylar?"
"Sylar's lips sat in a small 'o,' contemplating Mohinder's words. "Why has he come back now? Why have I been free from him for so long and all of a sudden…?"
"You must have been lonely, to let him back in." Mohinder said matter-of-factly.
"How do you explain the fact that I can hurt myself and hurt him, but I heal and he doesn't?"
"Easily," Mohinder retorted quickly, as if he'd expected this. "Gabriel is a manifestation of yourself prior to gaining powers. His only ability is Intuitive Aptitude, the only ability that was really yours. He has no regenerative power, therefore is vulnerable."
Sylar thought a moment, and then spoke. "That explains his memory. I told him I was visiting Doctor Suresh, and he thought I meant Chandra. Gabriel has never met you until now. He doesn't even know I've killed your father."
Mohinder's face reddened with anger and Sylar felt Gabriel's sadness penetrate him. He clutched at his heart as if he could rip the emotions from his chest, but the pain didn't subside. A groan grumbled in Sylar's throat, and Mohinder smiled with satisfaction. Tears welled in Sylar's eyes, tears that were not his own.
"You have each other on strings," Mohinder marveled. "You can hurt him physically and he you emotionally. Amazing…"
"Yeah," Sylar scoffed, still struggling to stifle the torrents of pain emanating from Gabriel's heart.
"Gabriel," Mohinder addressed the phantom. "Keep him in line, eh?"
With that, Mohinder took Sylar's trembling shoulders and steered him to the door.
"If you have any more questions, feel free to call," Mohinder said sarcastically as he opened the door and shoved Sylar out.
Once alone in his apartment, Mohinder picked up his cell phone and dialed a number. The line picked up.
"Noah, it's Mohinder," he said excitedly. "I have good news…"