So, this is my re-write of the last bit of their time in Sylar's mind.

I absolutely loved the 4th season, I don't know why every hates on it so bad. I thought it was the best of the series so far, actually.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, Peter and Sylar wouldn't have had time to beat on that wall all those years. They'd be much too busy with each other.

And Sylar would be shirtless. A lot.

ANYWAY...
:D

This is un-beta'd and quickly written. Don't be hatin'.

So, here's to hoping for a 5th (and 6th, 7th, etc) season! Cheers!

OH! And, forgive the formatting. It's all screwed up and refuses to let me correct it.

Another day in the land of their minds. Another day of trying to break through the unbreakable barrier that seperated them from reality.

They were at the wall again.

Peter was very vigilant in his work on it. Sylar just came along for the ride to watch Peter.

"Happy Birthday" Peter said as he threw a newspaper-wrapped gift onto Sylar's lap.

"But it's not my birthday" Sylar said quietly, unwrrapping a copy of his favorite book.

Over these last few years Peter and him had gotten close. You tend to do that when you were the only two people in existence.

But it was something else, also. Something deeper. And not just Nathan's implanted memories and feelings, either.

Peter and Sylar had a connection, whether Peter wanted to admit it or not.

As Sylar examined his present, his smile grew and his eyes crinkled, raising them up to look at Peter. He was saying something about how Sylar's old copy was worn, but all Sylar could do was look at him and daydream.

He'd admitted to himself that he had feelings for Peter long ago. Peter on the other hand... well, you couldn't blame him. Sylar had killed his brother and then lived his life, even if the last part had been against his will.

"Peter... thank you."

Peter turned then, set the sledgehammer down, and dropped down next to Sylar.

"You know, it's still weird hearing you say thank you. Some days I wake up and you're sitting somewhere reading or eating, and i get freaked out for a second. I can't believe how much this whole thing has screwed with us. I mean, yeah, I'm thankful you're... not who you used to be. But it's weird. You know? I've grown to like you, consider you my friend... everything is just so abnormal."

Peter was twisting his shoelace, avoiding eye contact.

Sylar reached his hand over and stilled Peter's, giving him a small smile.

"I understand, it's not like you have the best history with me. I've done unimaginable things to people, to you and your family. I don't expect you to ever forgive me completely. But I'm glad you consider me a friend. I... well, you're probably the only friend I've ever had."

Now Sylar was the one fidgeting. Heart to hearts weren't exactly his expertise.

"That was years ago... I got past that. There are more important things to deal with then our messed up past. But... are you serious about not having any other friends? What about in school?"

Sylar chuckled softly, sadly.

"The watchmaker's son who wears clothes that look like something their grandparents would have worn isn't exactly a favorite among his peers."

"I imagine... but hey, you got me now!" Peter said with a smile, smacking Sylar on the back and getting up once again to start hammering at the wall. Sylar got up as well, clutching the book close to him as if it were a precious jewel.

"Peter... do you honestly believe I've changed? You said that I'm not who I used to be, that you got past that. Do you mean it? Do you honestly not hate me for killing your brother?"

"Sylar... please."

"We need to settle this. It's been, what? 5 years? 10?"

"I don't know anymore. About either. I guess... I guess I feel that by completely letting go of my hate, my anger... I'm letting go of him."

"Oh."

"Dammit, Sylar. I know you're not the same person. I do. And no, I don't hate you. I can't, I guess. It's too hard to keep it up. But this isn't easy for me, it's not a simple thing."

"I know. Sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, it's fine."

"It's not. I'm the one who took him from you. I'm the one who got us stuck here. I've ruined your life in every way. I'm really am sorry..."

Sylar was practically hugging himself now, looking at his feet. He hated when he got like this. This was pure Gabriel, shy and awkward.

"Sylar... that isn't you now. You're a good person, I really believe that. I just never wanted to admit it."

As he said this, he laid his hand on Sylar's shoulder, prompting Sylar to look up. His eyes were slightly moist, and that was all it took for Peter's resolve to break and pull him into a hug. He felt Sylar's breath on his neck, his heartbeat against his, and his face nuzzle into his shoulder. He was slightly shocked at the affection and attraction he suddenly felt.

As they pulled back, Sylar smiled and looked down to his feet, unsure of what to do. He wasn't used to hugs or someone caring for him. Peter had hugged him once before, a few years ago, during a breakdown that ended with Peter holding Sylar in an antique store surrounded by broken snowglobes.

Peter, though, was good with expressions of emotion. He was very impulsive as well, which brought them to the current situation.

With little trepidition, he brought his hand up to Sylar's chin and pulled their faces together in a soft, sweet kiss. His chest was almost painful in how full it felt.

And at that moment, the wall in front of them cracked, startling the two. Light shone through, and as the two men smiled and picked up the sledgehammers and broke away the remaining brick, they were thrown into a burst of white.