…And at the Hour of Our Death
Disclaimer: Love 'em, but I don't own 'em...damn!
Summary: This is SAYA and an AU one-shot fic. Takes place 18-months after the incidents in "Powerless".
Sylar, after digging up Adam Monroe, has reluctantly joined forces with him to take down the Company. But they've soon realized they can't do it alone.
So Adam assigns Sylar to recruitment duty. Of course our favorite brain-eater makes the gifted an offer they'd be wise not to refuse.
But after months of building up the troops, there is still one person that Sylar would like see to join the legion of evil doers. However, Maya has done everything in her power to elude Sylar until now…
What will happen when the one-time lovers turned bitter enemies meet again face to face? Read on to find out. And oh, please don't forget to review!
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Albany, New York – August 16, 2008
"Are you sure about this, mate? You know what they say about a woman scorned and all that."
Sylar, who had been packing his bags for over an hour, whipped his head around to glare at the wiry blonde man leaning against the frame of his bedroom door.
My co-conspirator, he mentally scoffed. If it wasn't for this man's vast knowledge of inner workings of the Company, he would have gladly feasted on Adam's brain months ago and relieved him of his wonderful ability.
But right now his main focus was to finish packing so that he could get to the airport before he missed his flight to the Dominican Republic.
Narrowing his glittering dark eyes, the man formerly known as Gabriel Gray snarled angrily, "I'm sure about this, Adam. If we're going to pull off this supposedly brilliant plan of yours, we'll need her to do it!"
"Right, and the fact that you once got into those sweet knickers of hers has nothing to do with wanting to recruit her now. C'mon, Sylar, admit it! That girl got under your skin."
When Sylar refused to answer him, Adam continued to berate his partner in crime. "I'm warning you, don't let this become personal, Gabriel. We don't have time for your insipid little soap opera. Do try to remember our objective. This is a recruitment mission, nothing more. Fuck her if you must, but please spare me the hearts and flowers!"
Upon hearing Adam's harsh opinion of his latest assignment, Sylar froze, standing stock-still by the four poster bed. With his back turned to Adam, the 400 year-old man could not see the hatred raging within the blackness of the serial killer's eyes.
Inwardly seething, the sound of Sylar's soft voice did not betray the perilous wrath Adam's chiding had provoked "How many times do I have to remind you not to call me Gabriel? You know how much it upsets me."
Undaunted by Sylar's words of admonition, Adam smirked as he said condescendingly, "You've cut me to the quick, dear boy! And after all we've been through together! I thought by now we'd be the closest of friends! On first name basis, just like you and that Indian fellow….Mohinder, wasn't it?"
Without brothering to turn around, Sylar effectively sent Adam sailing through the air before slamming him repeatedly into the closet door face first, with just a twitch of his fingers.
When Sylar was satisfied that he had gotten his point across, he released his telekinetic hold on the man. Soon after, Adam's lanky body slid onto the carpeted bedroom floor in a bloody heap.
Unconcerned by the damage he had caused, Sylar zipped the last of his bags closed. He then pointed a long graceful finger at the three packed suitcases. As if by magic, he managed to levitate the heavy pieces of luggage in mid air before he sent them floating toward the living room to rest next to the front door.
Sylar then grabbed his black leather coat off the chair it had been draped over, and quickly slipped it on. As he was zipping it up, he finally turned to face the man that was quickly healing from the injuries inflicted upon him by Sylar's prowess with telekinesis.
Pinching his bleeding broken nose between two fingers, Adam quickly reset the bone and cartilage with a crunching snap. The welts and bruises on his face had faded by now, but their miraculous disappearance did nothing to sooth his wounded pride.
"Damn it, Sylar!" Adam Monroe bellowed furiously as he slowly rose to his feet. "You're lucky my katana is still hanging over the fireplace! Had it been in my hand, I wouldn't have hesitated for a second to take your head clean off, you bloody bastard!"
Sylar on the other hand, found himself slightly amused by Adam's pathetic attempt to scrape what remained of his dignity off the floor.
With a deep chuckle he lazily drawled, "Oh, I get it. You must be under the delusion that you're still somehow running the show! Don't you know that you haven't been running anything for a very long time?"
He then took two steps forward to stand face to face with his immortal collaborator. "Adam, you've lived for many centuries and God knows that a man such as myself could actually benefit from your immeasurable experience.
You'd be wise to remember, though, that I'm a very quick study. And once I've learned everything you know, you will have outlived your usefulness to me."
Sylar smiled when he noticed the nervous perspiration dot across Adam's brow.
Suddenly, he patted the Briton's right cheek with the back of his hand as he said with mock-reassurance, "Now, if you want to live long enough to see your precious dream of destroying the Company realized, I'd curb that sharp tongue of yours if I were you, from now on!"
Monroe watched with hate-filled eyes as the overly confident brain-eater sauntered past him to vacate the master bedroom of the "borrowed" residence that now served as their base of operations.
The original occupants, Howard and Sally Brewster, had been dead and buried in their own back yard for over a year. But thanks to Sylar's newly acquired ability of illusion, he had been able to impersonate the Brewster's convincingly enough to keep any snooping neighbors away from the gated McMansion.
Now, as Sylar took on the guise of the dearly departed Howard Brewster, he plucked the dead man's passport off the top of the dresser then shoved the travel document into the breast pocket of his coat.
As he turned to leave again, "Howard" smiled maliciously at the hapless Adam speaking to him over his shoulder. "Remember to be a good boy while I'm gone. You can start by training those animals down there in the basement."
When Adam showed signs of protest, Sylar quickly silenced him with a raised finger, "Don't say a word! You were the one that asked those misfits down there to join our little party, not me!"
In a last show of defiance Adam shouted out, "And whose fault is that, I wonder? If you had done your job like you were supposed to instead of going on a grey matter tar-tar binge, we would have had a decent army by now! Because of you, we're left scraping the bottom of the barrel!"
"Howard's" jowly mid-life face only frowned in disappointment at his colleague's short sightedness. "That's all the more reason why we need Maya. Once I've convinced her to join our cause, I know I can keep her in line."
"And how do you propose to do that, Romeo, with your charm and wit? Trust me, I've seen how you are with women. You'll have to do better than that!"
Suppressing the overwhelming desire to crack open Adam's skull to usurp his power, the disguised Sylar simply turned on his heel, and stalked out of the house.
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Punta Cana, Dominican Republic – August 21, 2008
It had taken him a couple of days of searching overcrowded streets, a bustling market place that sold everything from sun dried fish to bootleg DVD's and every seedy looking back alley of Santiago. But after flashing her photograph around and talking to a few of the more intelligent looking locals, Sylar had finally found out Maya Herrera's current location.
Interestingly enough, she was now living under the assumed identity of a Yolanda Espada. After his informants had assured him the woman in the photograph and Yolanda was one and the same, Sylar embarked on his journey to confront her.
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The harsh tropical sun had started to set as his rental car approached the large gated house built on a craggy cliff overlooking the beach of touristy Punta Cana.
Although Sylar wasn't usually impressed by gaudy displays of wealth, he couldn't help being slightly taken aback by the sheer vastness and opulence of the newly built mansion.
"Well, look's like our girl has moved up in the world," he murmured approvingly to himself as a wry little smile spread across his lips.
She's probably convinced some rich old slob to marry her. And judging from the ornate tackiness of that enormous mermaid fountain right smack in the middle of the front yard, the man's probably a drug dealer.
Maya sure knows how to pick 'em!
Stupid girl, did you actually think that his money and power would hide you from the world...or from me?
Parking the car under a large palm tree, Sylar decided to walk the rest of the way. Getting out of the vehicle, he started to make his way up the dirt and gravel road that led to the stately looking residence.
When he arrived at the front gate, his right hand rose to swiftly liquefy the two security cameras that had been perched high above the fence. Next, Sylar levitated himself over the gate with merely a thought.
Once he was on the property, he wasted no time trying to track down Maya. His face was a steely mask of fierce determination. He would force her to join him or else.
And if her fat, rich husband tried to get in the way, Sylar would slit his well fed belly in two while his pretty little wife watched.
Like a lethal jungle cat on the prowl, he casually stalked the well manicured grounds, quietly searching for his intended target. Mindful of the possibility of servants or other staff, Sylar did his best to remain out of sight until he wanted to make his presence known.
Surprisingly though, he found the beach-side estate to be practically deserted and quiet…eerily so. Come to think of it, he had only seen one car parked in the large circular drive way, a modest looking mid-sized SUV. That was highly unusual given the fact Third World narcotic king pins loved to show off their ill-begotten wealth with a fleet of cars, each flashier than the last.
Something about this set up doesn't feel right, Sylar pondered worriedly.
Despite the many alterations to the fabric of his DNA, he knew he was still an instinctual creature at heart. And right now his instincts were telling him, loud and clear, that he was possibly walking into a trap.
Still, he continued on his mission, slinking his way down the east side of the house, peering into every window like some pervert. Yet, there was still no sign of Maya.
Damn it, where is she?
Finally, when he made his way toward the back of the house, that's when he finally saw her. Slithering behind a tall potted palm near the breathtaking swimming pool, Sylar could now observe his quarry from a discrete vantage point, sight unseen.
There she was, standing on the terrazzo tiled terrace with her back to him. Maya was near the balcony that overlooked her private view of the Caribbean apparently gazing at the spectacular sunset. It truly was an awe-inspiring sight, a glimpse of heaven in an otherwise dreary world.
When she finally turned around, Sylar's breath caught in his throat at the sight of her face. To his pleasant surprise, she was still just as lovely as he remembered her to be. Her eyes, her lips and sun kissed skin were all fatal reminders of that one defining moment when they had set the night ablaze.
One hot crazy night that had been seared into his memory… the night when he had murdered her brother then passionately stole her innocence without a shred of remorse.
"C'mon, Sylar, admit it! That girl got under your skin."
Recalling Adam's cruel taunting words, he mentally cursed him:
Damn you, Monroe, you fucking Limey! I hate it when you're right!
Sylar had to admit, despite his better judgment, that the reddish golden hues of Apollo's blazing sun chariot dipping into the deep blue waters of the sea paled in comparison to Maya's composed splendor.
Aside from her beauty, however, he could now clearly see that the aura of sweet innocence that had always surrounded Maya, had somehow changed into something totally unforeseen.
There was a hardness about her now, a certain waryness that wasn't there before. She also seemed more conscious about her surroundings, more alert. To Sylar, Maya appeared to be a woman suddenly and completely awakened from a long deep slumber imposed by life long ignorance.
No, Maya was anything but ingnorant. Sylar had seen to that when he finally shattered her rose colored glasses with one fatal shot, at last revealing the monster he had been all along.
He had truly been the wolf in sheep's clothing, the dreaded Boogeyman lurking just on the other side of the closet door...the stuff that nightmares were made of.
He couldn't resist asking himself the question he already knew the answer to, I wonder, am I still your nightmare, Maya?
Lastly, Sylar detected something else..all hope had been extinguished from her eyes, and in its place was the cold glare of world-weary cynicism. Strangely enough, it was this particular fact which saddened him somewhat.
Why? He wondered angrily. Why should I care one way or another? She's just a means to an end, a weapon of mass destruction, nothing more!
And yet as his dark hungry eyes continued to appraise his mark, Sylar noticed that her dark hair had grown much longer. Cursing under his breath, his fingers trembled involuntarily as he recalled the sensation of running them through those silky raven tresses, of coiling a precious black strand around an index finger while his lips had devoured, conquered.
Sylar groaned deeply while he summoned up a very vivid memory of him tugging hard on that wild mane of hers as he had taken Maya from behind.
Suddenly expelling a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding, Sylar felt himself growing harder and hotter with every passing second. That's when he realized that the desire to recruit her and ultimately take her powers had been supplanted by the ever growing need to tackle her to the ground and have his way with her.
Fuck.
When she started to walk back towards the house, that's when he panicked.
I can't confront her like this…with a chubby down my pants like some love sick teenager! God fucking damn it! Now what do I do?
As he continued to watch her get closer to the series of French doors that were lined across the back of house and further away from him, Sylar hastily decided that the time for confrontation had come. His carnal desires would have to wait a little longer.
With the sun completely gone, the cover of night aided him as he stepped out from behind his hiding place. Once again he called upon the power of his mind to elevate his body a few inches off the ground. Quickly yet silently he glided across the terrace, approaching his prey unawares, just as he had done when he had killed Dale Smithers almost two years ago.
When he was finally standing behind her, Sylar broke the dead silence with the deep timbre of his voice. "Hello Maya or is it Yolanda now?"
Sylar had fully expected her to suddenly whirl around, hands raised in futile surrender as she gasped in horror at the mere sight of him. Or perhaps she would shriek for help, call out to the husband he was nearly certain resided inside the house, as she cowered away from him like a shrinking violet.
But to his utter amazement Maya did none of those things.
Instead, she just threw her shoulders back, crossed her arms in front of that bountiful chest of hers, as her dark liquid eyes hatefully bore into his.
"Hola, Gabriel," she said softly as his name sinfully rolled off the tip of her tongue. The sound of her husky voice just made Sylar painfully harder.
He tried to think of something to say, but the right words escaped him at the moment.
Maya, on the other hand, exuded nothing but confidence. Strong and bold, she was now woman in control of her emotions, a far cry from the weeping willow she had been in the desert.
She smirked as she watched the Great Sylar struggling for witty repartee.
"What's the matter, Gabriel?" she asked in a flat monotonous tone. "You have nothing to say to me after all this time?"
Then it dawned him. "You were expecting me, weren't you?"
Setting his lust for aside for now, he grew angry. With a wave of his hand he violently slammed her body against one of the glass doors. When her back hit the door pane, Maya could feel the glass start to crack from the force of impact.
Sylar then closed the gap between them as his hand shot out to squeeze her face. Narrowing his eyes, he sneered at the woman that once held sway over his emotions and perhaps still did.
"What's going on, Maya? What are you doing here, in this house? For months I tried to find you! But you stayed hidden from my eyes. Even after I acquired that Walker kid's powers! It was as if you vanished off the face of the planet! And now, after all this time, you're here living the high life with some…"
"…with some what, Gabriel?" Maya mocked him. "Is that what's got you so upset, the possibility that I might be here with a boyfriend, or maybe a husband! Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I live here alone. Besides, after what you did to me, I wouldn't want you or any other man for that matter to touch me again!"
The fact that she hadn't been with anyone else since him made Sylar's chest, as well as other parts of his anatomy, swell with pride. But that still didn't erase the feeling that there was still something about this little scenario he was seriously overlooking. He intensified the telekinetic restraints on her as a precaution.
Sylar needed time to analyze the situation, to put the pieces of this bizarre puzzle together. Meanwhile Maya continued to stare at him with those accusing eyes, silently daring him to make the first move.
Make the first move to do what? Kill her…kiss her…fuck her? What does she want?
Then as if she had read his thoughts, Maya spoke to him, "Do what you came here to do, Gabriel. Kill me if you must. I don't care anymore."
She sounded so tired, so defeated. Had Sylar done this to her, or had someone else broken her spirit?
Before he could ask her why she was so willing to resign herself to her fate, Maya made a startling confession to him, "I'm afraid that I no longer have anything to offer you. My powers are gone."
Sylar couldn't believe what he was hearing. Maya was powerless? How? When?
Leaning his face in towards hers, he gazed at her softly, "What happened, Maya? Who did this to you?"
Without blinking an eye she declared emphatically, "It was the Company. They believed that my powers were too dangerous, so that man, Bob Bishop had Dr. Suresh inject me with the Shanti Virus."
"What? Mohinder did this to you? That hypocritical little bastard! Don't worry Maya I can help you. There's a man I know whose blood can cure anything. He can restore your ability. Then after you're well, we can take down the organization that did this to you!"
Narrowing her eyes Maya stated empirically, "I know of the man you speak of…he is Adam Monroe, right?" Then she asked, "Is that why you're here? Were you hoping to convince me to join you in your fight against the Company?"
Sylar nodded as he replied, "Yes."
Maya laughed, the sound was dry and brittle to Sylar's ears, like the rustling of Autum leaves.
"And what makes you think that I'd help you?" Maya asked bitterly. "You're a murderer, Gabriel! Or have you forgotten you killed my brother? I haven't! And now thanks to you, I have to live every day with the constant reminder of Alejandro's death!"
Angered yet confused by her outburst, Sylar was prompted to respond, "So that's a big fat NO, right? Oh Maya, please don't make me do this."
"Do what?" she inquired defiantly. "You had no problem killing me once. What's to stop you from doing it again?"
Hesitantly, he raised a pointed index finger, leveling it at her smooth forehead. Then as he prepared to make the first incision across her skin, Maya closed her eyes and began to pray.
"Hail Mary, full of grace
Blessed are Thou amongst women
And blessed is the fruit of Thy womb, Jesus
Holy Mary Mother of God
Pray for us sinners
Now and at the hour of our death
Amen."
It was an oration that Sylar immediately recognized from his childhood as Gabriel Gray. It was the very first prayer that his devoutly Catholic mother, Virginia, had ever taught him.
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By the time he was three, little Gabriel could recite the Hail Mary perfectly, a fact that had made his zealot mother proud. The poor deluded woman actually believed she had somehow gained Brownie points with the Almighty by shoving Roman Catholic ritual and idolatry down her only son's throat.
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Pushing away unpleasant memories of his unhappy upbringing, Sylar returned to the task at hand. Taking a deep breath, he proceeded to make a clean diagonal cut on Maya's brow which caused her to scream in agony. Suddenly, he heard something else above the blood curdling shrieks of his latest victim and the strange noise stopped him cold. Not sure if his ears were deceiving him, Sylar speedily fine tuned his super hearing to discern the source of the sound.
When he heard it again, he was certain that it hadn't been a figment of his imagination.
"Oh my God…" he whispered with wide-eyed amazement.
With blood trickling down the side of her face, Maya breathed heavily as her eyes flew open. And for the first time that night Sylar saw her fear.
She knew right then that he had just discovered her secret.
"G-Gabriel," she began to hastily explain, her voice tremulous. "I don't know what to say. You weren't supposed to find out like this."
Now it was Sylar's eyes that narrowed into dual slits of mistrust, "Find out what, Maya?"
Trying to hide from his accusatory glare, Maya hung her head allowing her hair to shield her his penetrating glower. "That we have a child, Gabriel. Actually, there are two of them."
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It had taken some coaxing on her part, but Maya finally got Sylar to release her from her invisible bonds. Next, she gently led him into her house by the hand.
Surprisingly, he had put up no resistance. Feeling as if he were caught in the middle of thick mind-numbing fog, Sylar moved forward slowly, shuffling his large feet with the gait of zombie.
Sylar, to his credit, had been simply stupefied, completely and utterly shocked by the news that he was a father. And to twins no less!
Oh God!
Silently, they climbed the stairs to the nursery. Now, as they stood in front of the door, Maya could see the hesitation in his dark brooding eyes. Smiling, she encouraged Sylar to open the door. "Go on, Gabriel, it is alright."
Carefully placing a shaky hand on the knob, a visibly nervous Sylar gave it twist then slowly pushed the door open. Again Maya took him by the hand, leading him toward the identical basinets adorned with their frilly bedding.
One pink, one blue…Sylar noticed immediately.
At last the one-time lovers stood side by side gazing down at what their one night of passion had created. There they were, two adorable little infants sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware of the danger that surrounded them.
Sylar choked back a sob as he whispered to Maya, "They're beautiful. Oh God, I can't believe they're mine."
His mind chose to cruelly recall the last time he had seen their mother. It had been in Mohinder's loft. With malicious intent a bullet had been fired straight into her chest. Blood gushing everywhere. Sylar could still remember, with perfect clarity, Molly's screams and Mohinder's expression of shock and disbelief.
Sylar, drunk with his lust for the power that would soon be restored to him, had laughed cruelly, manically even. He had felt a sense of relief and triumph when he observed Maya's broken body splayed out over Isaac Mendez's mural of the nuclear holocaust that had been foretold in his art.
"How did this happen? Were you pregnant when I shot you?" he whispered worriedly.
For a brief moment Maya allowed the bitterness she was feeling surge forth from the pit of her stomach. "Yes, I was. But I didn't know it then."
Feeling guilt for probably first time in his life, Sylar cast an anguished glance at his offspring. "But that would mean when I killed you I had killed them too, right?"
Then without warning, the deluge of tears that had been prickling the back of his eyes began to trickle down his unshaven face.
Apparently moved by his sorrow, Maya placed her hand in his. "Please don't cry, Gabriel. As you can see Dr. Suresh's serum restored not only my life, but the lives of my children...our children. And for that I will always be grateful to him."
Sylar started babbling, wishing that somehow his disjointed words could erase the past. "If-if I had had my powers then... I-I would have heard them growing inside your womb! Please believe me Maya, I would never have dreamed of hurting you had I known!"
Maya sighed. "So what happens now, Gabriel? Do you go back to Adam Monroe empty handed? Or will you take our children as your tribute to him, now that I am no longer of any use to you?"
Upon hearing Maya's remark, Sylar sharply turned his body to face her. Placing his hands on her slender shoulders he said, "Maya, how could you even think that? Am I truly that much of a monster to you?"
When Maya said nothing, Sylar shook her gently, "C'mon, despite what you may think of me, I would never put our children in harm's way. Please believe that…and this."
Boldly, he gripped her shoulders tighter, pulling her body closer to his. Looking deeply into her eyes, he desperately searched for hope, forgiveness and perhaps salvation, anything that would redeem him in the sight of his forgotten God and Maya's.
Then before he lost the nerve, his trembling eager lips suddenly crashed over hers. Sylar, was painfully aware that his voracious hunger for Maya might scare her off. So he made a concerted effort to be as gentle and tender as possible.
But as the kisses intensified, Sylar soon discovered that his lust for her was too great, too powerful to contain. Urgently, he threaded his fingers through her glorious hair as he relentlessly kissed her into oblivion.
Maya meanwhile, had already slid her hands up the front of his shirt then encircled her thin forearms around his neck. Her nimble fingers sunk deeply into his thick dark brown hair. She sighed as she reveled in the spiky texture of it.
As for Sylar, he felt as if he had been set on fire, his ferocious sexual demons had undoubtedly been unleashed...and with a vengeance. He growled throatily as he felt the engorged arousal in his pants throb achingly. And when he felt Maya's clinging mouth open to grant his probing tongue access, it was all he could do to keep himself from throwing her down onto the floor to take her right then and there.
Feeling the need for precious oxygen, Sylar reluctantly relinquished Maya's greedy mouth only to lay claim on her exposed neck and shoulders. As he kissed and sucked on her skin, he whispered feverishly, "Oh Maya, I want you. I want you so much!"
The feel of Sylar's lips gliding up and down her curve of her throat caused Maya to moan wantonly, "Gabriel, I want you too!"
Not wanting to wait another second, Sylar began to quickly remove articles of clothing from both their bodies telekinetically. Maya gasped in wonderment as invisible blades sliced right through her flimsy, whipsy dress leaving her naked and shivering.
But she was soon warmed up when she felt Gabriel's body press against hers. His skin felt scorchingly hot to the touch, as if he were being consumed by a raging fever. Maya pressed her lips to his chest, kissing the burning flesh over and over again as her soft hands caressed his back, driving him wild.
Sylar moaned with pleasure as his large hands slid down the curve of her back to grab and knead her round ass. Savagely, he pushed her toward him so that he could grind his hardened member into her abdomen, letting Maya know just how much he wanted to fuck her.
Maya, tossing her hair off her shoulders, looked up from his chest to give him a coy little smile that seem to say, "Take me to bed or lose me forever". Sylar understanding her unspoken intentions, was ready and able to comply.
But just as they were about to consummate their reunion, one of the babies started to cry.
"Damn!" Sylar growled in frustration.
Ingoring his indignant outcry, maternal instincts took over when Maya quickly threw his discarded shirt over her nude form. Swiftly, she sauntered over to the wailing infant, her son. With the gentleness only a mother could muster, she carefully picked up the baby, laying his little head on her shoulder as she softly patted his back.
"No llores, hijito. Mama esta aqui." Maya cooed to the baby in her arms.
Sylar, pulling up his pants, watched with sincere fascination as she managed to calm the fussy child with just her touch and a few soothing words.
"He's been a little colicky lately," Maya explained with an apologetic smile.
Sylar reassured her with brilliant grin of his own, "Don't worry, I understand." Then he added, "You're really good with him, you know."
Maya beamed with pride as she accepted his compliment, "Thank you." Then her smile became broader as she walked closer to the father of her children.
"Would you like to hold him?" she offered sincerely.
Sylar balked at the idea, at first. He had never held a baby in his life and he was afraid he'd be terrible at it now.
"I-I couldn't," he stammered as he waved his hands in protest.
Choosing to ignore his objections, Maya placed her infant son into his father's arms anyway.
From the moment the hardened criminal held his own flesh and blood for the first time, he was deeply humbled. Sylar almost fell to his knees in a sign of reverence to the tiny life he had helped create. He felt terribly elated knowing that despite all the evil he had done, the universe still saw fit to give him the tiny miracle wriggling his arms.
He was someone's father and the feeling was indescribable… it was extraordinary, astonishing…in word, special. And there was nothing in world that he could compare this experience to.
Looking down into that sweet little face that seemed to be the perfect blend of both his and Maya's ethnicities, Sylar dared to ask, "Does he have a name?"
"Of course he does. I named after someone very dear to my heart, someone that has meant the world to me."
Touched by the sentiment, Sylar lifted his eyes away from his son to look upon Maya tenderly. "Maya, that's sweet, but you didn't have to name our son after me."
Suddenly the sweetness that had been present in Maya's voice evaporated when she growled at him. "Don't worry, Sylar. I would never name my son after a killer like you!"
Perplexed by her abrupt change in attitude, he demanded an answer, "What do you mean? I thought…"
"You thought what, you pig? That I would forgive you for everything you've done? That I would somehow forget you killed all of those innocent people including Alejandro and Molly Walker? Think again you hijo-de perra!"
Then before Sylar could react, the dreaded black oily viscous tears of death began to ooze from her eyes. He was immediately under the affects of the noxious toxic properties of the plague she was willingly unleashing.
Maya advanced on Sylar like a vengeful goddess, smiting the mortal before her and infecting him with her sickness with each methodical step she took. As he was brought to his knees, the infant boy, who was wailing incessantly, was still clutched protectively in his arms.
She lied, the miserable bitch lied!
Maya still had her power and now she was killing him and his children with it.
"The babies, Maya! Think of the children!" he implored her. Maya only laughed at him as she reached down to retrieve her boy from him.
"You don't have anything to worry about, Sylar," she snarled with mock reassurance. "The twins may have your nose, but they inherited my eyes! Especially little Alejandro."
As Sylar felt the last vestiges of life leave his deteriorating body, he came to the sad realization that he had played right into Maya's hands. She had set quite the trap for him and like a love sick fool, he had stepped right into it.
With a feeble breath, he took one final glimpse at his son through filmy eyes. And he was devastated by what he saw.
The baby, just like his mother, had black diseased tears flowing from its tiny eyes.
"Maya, please!" he begged, his voice raspy and unrecongnizable. But Maya and her need for retribution were too far gone. She wanted Sylar dead at her feet and she wouldn't stop until he was.
Sylar was completely blinded now by the blackness that invaded his eyes. And soon his body had collasped. Maya smiled evilly as she saw him convulse, his dying body whipped about the floor like a downed live wire after a storm. Sylar futilely gasped for air as he felt his windpipe constrict, restricting the flow of oxygen.
Maya watched in triumph as her hated ememy gradually stopped struggling before he took his final ragged breath. It was an eeriest of death rattles, but it was a melodic symphony to her ears.
Mission accomplished!
At long last, after months of biding her precious time, and all of her careful planning, the monster known as Sylar was no more.
Then as quickly as she had unleashed her power, Maya withdrew it, reeling the sickness back into herself until it was needed again. Little Alejandro had done the same.
After Maya had composed herself, she gingerly stepped over Sylar's dead body to lay her baby back down in his crib. Next, she checked on her other twin, little Molly, who was still sleeping soundly despite all of the commotion.
Assured of her children's safety, Maya walked over to the night stand between the cribs, and opened the top drawer to retrieve her cell phone. Flipping it open, she quickly dialed the all too familiar number. Placing the phone to her ear, she only had to wait for two rings before the party on the other end of the line picked up.
"Hello?" a man's voice answered.
"It's me," Maya said into the phone.
"It is done?" the man asked desperately.
"Yes, Sylar is dead. I've held up my end of the bargain. Now it's time you held up yours." Maya reminded the man sternly.
"Yes, of course. You and your children will be left alone from now on… you have my word on that."
Maya smiled wryly, "Good, and I get to keep the house and everything in it?"
"That was part of the agreement. Don't worry. You will also be handsomely compensated for your outstanding work. The funds are being wired into your account as we speak. You know that the Company is in your debt Ms. Herrera or should I say Ms. Espada?"
"Thank you, Senor Bishop, but I believe that concludes our business relationship. I don't wish to hear from you or anyone else from the Company ever again. Have my made myself clear?"
"Crystal clear, my dear. After the retrieval team has collected Sylar's remains, you will never hear from the Company again. Oh, by the way, did you find out where Mr. Monroe might be staying before you killed his partner?"
"I can't say for sure, but it looks like Sylar was carrying a U.S. Passport and a driver's license with an address in Albany, New York. My guess is you'll find Adam there."
"Splendid! Well my dear, take care of yourself. Do remember that if you ever change your mind about becoming an agent, the doors of the OWI are always open to you."
"Gracias, but no. I have two children to bring up by myself. That is all the job I'll need for now. Good night, Senor Bishop and goodbye."
END