Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes, nor am I in anyway affiliated with any person or group who does. This is for entertainment purposes only.
Got inspired by the episode " Turn and Face the Strange." I threw this together without much review, so it might be a bit rough. It's a bit of introspection concerning Sylar and Bennet, a pair that I see as one of the great complex relationships of the show. Let me know what you think.
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Sylar turned slightly to one side, examining his profile from the corner of one eye in the mirror. Shapeshifting, it was certainly a useful ability to have, the ability to move among people undetected again, quite the gift for him really. Not that there were really any clear descriptions of how he looked out there, everyone who knew how he looked was either dead, or wouldn't talk about it because then they would have to explain how they knew of a killer who was little more than a boogeyman, and that would lead to questions that they wouldn't want to answer.
He smiled, then closed his eyes and exhaled sharply as his features remade themselves into the image of the agent he had replaced. It was a gift, one the dead man hadn't deserved. That was the way of the world though, wasn't it? The strong took from the weak what they wanted, will to power, and only the strongest survived. What was it Chandra had called it, seemingly so long ago, oh yes, an evolutionary imperative.
The smile faded, replaced by an approximation of a frown as Sylar's eyes left the mirror and traveled to the photo sitting on the window ledge by the bathroom sink. Bennet, it always came back to Bennet. He pondered that for a moment. He had, underestimated Bennet, again. It was odd really, to think that someone who was merely human could be so resourceful; and yet, hadn't he himself been anything but a normal human at one point as well? Yes. Bennet was smart, resourceful, and cunning. He was a calculating opponent, a chess master almost, and had come as close as anyone had to killing him. Sylar had almost killed him as well, and yet, each time there was something in him that objected.
Chess was a game that took time and patience to appreciate, and even at the end you never took the king. No, he wouldn't kill Noah Bennet, he would take each piece, one by one, and then draw the noose tight around him. Sylar's teeth ground together as his body shifted and reformed itself again, Noah Bennet staring back at him from the mirror.
Yes, shapeshifting was a gift, and he had taken it from a man who didn't deserve it. After all, hadn't he needed to touch someone to be able to change into them? Sylar smiled, the expression murderously cold and alien on Bennet's face. Will to power, the evolutionary imperative. Only the strong deserved to survive, and he was the strongest of all.