Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes or anything associated with the TV show.
A/N: This is just a character exploration to go inside the heads of Sylar and Maya after the finale of Generations. Whether you agree or disagree, just read and review.
Emotions
Only hours after Sylar made his dramatic escape from Elle, Mohinder, Molly and Maya were seated around the table at Mohinder's apartment. The doctor was seated next to Molly, whispering nonsense words of comfort into her ear. He told her how the Boogey Man wouldn't get her, that he would see to it that they were safe. Molly barely heard him. She was too busy leaning over a map; pushpin in hand, keeping track of Sylar's every move.
Maya sat across the table from the pair, a full mug of coffee in her hand. She was motionless, but her eyes were blurred with emotion. Thoughts rampaged through her mind, unrestrained. Gabriel killed me— he killed my brother— I hate him— I loved him and he betrayed my love— He manipulated me into loving him— I want to kill him— But that's wrong. I hate him— I love him still.
Such thoughts were greatly confusing Maya, but the last one bothered her the most. He had ripped her heart out. Taken advantage of her naïve nature, and her lack of exposure to true evil. He even said he planned on killing her, but in not so many words. When Molly was talking to Mohinder in the cab ride back to the apartment about "the Boogeyman" as she called him, Molly mentioned that Gabriel removed the top of her parents' skulls and took their brains. Maya assumed that was how he must have gained his power. So when he said he would gladly take her ability off her hands, he basically said he'd gladly kill her.
Alejandro had been right not to trust him. Everything Alejandro had ever said about him had been true. If she had listened, Alejandro might still be alive. Gabriel had used her, used them. She hated him for it.
And yet— she couldn't help but feel thankful for some of what Gabriel had done for her, no matter what his motives. He had made her feel like a human for the first time in a long time. He taught her to control her ability. Yes, he abused her power. But he made her feel proud of controlling the ability, and proud of being able to use it when their lives depended on it. Like with border patrol. Alejandro made her feel guilty about it. Gabriel comforted her by telling her it was a necessity. He listened to her, giving her the empathy she needed to emotionally survive, empathy that she could never get from her brother no matter how hard he tried to understand. Alejandro could never have comprehended how overwhelming it is to be responsible for a death. He could never have known how she felt when she accidentally wiped hundreds of lives from the Earth in an instant. Alejandro could never know how much worse it is to kill because you feel you have no choice. Gabriel understood. Those emotions had to be genuine. Although, his version of "having no choice" seemed to be far different from her own . . .
And then there was the death of Gabriel's mother. Maya knew that Gabriel was a master manipulator, but his shaky voice and moist eyes had to be genuine. Perhaps, if truly felt guilty for his mother's death, there was hope for him yet . . .
And when he kissed her— Well. He had manipulated her feelings. She knew that now. But despite this, Maya couldn't forget how alive he made her feel. In his arms, in his kiss, she finally felt wanted, loved and forgiven. Alejandro, she now knew, had forgiven her. Gabriel was the one who made her think that he hated her. But Alejandro definitely didn't want her while she still had her power. He was willing to do anything to help her get rid of it, but Maya had no doubt that he did this out of duty to humanity, as well as to help her. Alejandro had been the sort of person who would never have forgiven himself if he let someone with the power to kill to continue using it, intentionally or not. Even Maya had to admit that she was dangerous, but it was the most wonderful feeling to be accepted as you are despite past sins. Gabriel did this. Alejandro didn't
She loved Gabriel, but he hurt her, and didn't care whether she lived or died. He didn't love her back. If he was at risk of dying because of her, as he was in Dr. Suresh's lab, Maya now knew that he would kill her without a second thought. He had killed many other people heartlessly as well. Her brother . . . Gabriel wouldn't get away with it. Whether she loved him or not, he needed to be stopped. She would use the power he taught her to control. And she would kill him. She could beat any power he may have. He was no longer human and needed to die. Maya remembered Gabriel saying that he wanted to be special. He would probably do anything to reach that goal, even if it included murder. Maya understood this. She had committed murder to get to America, to find a cure. There's a sort of longing and desperation that comes along with a goal that consumes the soul. Any threat to the achievement of that goal has to be dealt with, or you will emotionally perish.
But since Gabriel had murdered so many times, and his goal was unattainable, he had to cut off his emotions to survive. According to doctor Suresh, Sylar had killed many people in quest for power, and had even wanted a list with hundreds of names of people with extraordinary abilities. He planned to take it all. Maya figured the only way he could live with the murder was to make it meaningless. To make the victims inhuman. To rationalize it. Gabriel Grey was nothing but a hollow vessel. He had shred his soul, killed his emotions, to achieve a goal. There is no sin in destroying a hollow shell. Or so she told herself.
Maya had learned murder was wrong. She had trained to be a nun, and needed justification for what she was doing. Better justification than a statement that Gabriel was inhuman. Especially since Gabriel had proved that he had some humanity by looking genuinely sorry about the murder of his mother. He could feel when it came to that, which meant his soul wasn't completely destroyed. As a Christian, it was Maya's duty to kill him to save what soul he may have left. Or so she told herself.
He was so similar to her. He had helped her so much. She loved him. She couldn't help it. A sort of empathy had developed for the man who had killed so much, and forgotten to feel. Maya, looking back, didn't feel sorry for the border patrolmen she had killed. It had been necessary to reach America, and thus find a way to get rid of her powers. She knew that she could become like him, and that made her love him more, the version of her that had gone horribly wrong. She would save what soul he had left. Her love for him wouldn't allow her to let him live, while he further corrupted his soul. She now understands that she must kill him before he loses his ability to feel. Finally, a reason for murder that fit her moral code. If she killed him, she would be doing him a favor. She would be showing him mercy.
Her reason for wanting to kill Gabriel rationalized; Maya slowed her thoughts down, and finally became aware of her surroundings. Molly was looking less frantic. Mohinder was leaning back in his chair, a look of contemplation on his face. Maya had come to a decision, and she had to let them know her plans. Or at least, the plans that concerned the two of them.
"I don't want to be cured," Maya announced. Mohinder leaned forward in his chair. Molly readjusted the pushpin on her map once more before looking up.
Mohinder cleared his throat. "May I ask why?" Maya could tell he was nervous. Her power scared him. She could understand that. She could barely control her power, and if she lost that control, both the doctor and his adopted daughter would be dead. Maya took a deep breath.
"Gabriel cut me deeper than any being has a right to do," she explained. "He isn't human, anymore. He killed my brother," Maya's voice dropped to a hate filled snarl, "He needs to die." Restraining her emotions, which were quickly becoming close to a deadly intensity, Maya couldn't help but feel proud of herself for creating this simplified version. They would never understand the depth of emotions behind her decision.
"Maya, listen to me," Mohinder began frantically, "He could kill you! He would do it without a single emotion, and then he could use your power to take out New York City! He has tried it before! He has more power than you could possibly—"
"I don't care!" Maya cut him off. If she let him continue, she knew her resolve would falter. "He'll just continue hurting people if no one stops him! I'll never forgive myself if I let him live!"
With that, Maya rose for her chair, and rushed toward the door, mentally going over the location of the push pin on the map. She left the apartment without looking back.
Sylar breathed deeply, trying to contain the excitement of having his powers back. He would have to relearn to use them, but they were all there. And unfortunately, some were triggered by powerful emotions, so he would have to control all feelings of euphoria until he got better control.
But he was powerful. He was back. And there were several powers he couldn't wait to get his hands on. And he would start with Maya's.
Sylar activated his super hearing, knowing that he wouldn't be able to turn it off. That power had been the hardest to control. He needed to relearneverything. But he allowed himself to suffer the loud noises because he had to ensure that no one could sneak up on him in the alley. Leaning against the brick wall, Sylar allowed his mind to drift, while still listening for anything out of the ordinary. He imagined himself with his eyes blackened, with dead 'special' people surrounding him. Peter Petrelli was the most vivid in his imaginings. His power was so similar to his own original power. He had to see how that worked.
I wonder, Sylar mused, whether their brain will be in tact after the virus consumes them. I suppose I'll have to use it on some test subject. That will be boring. The insignificant never put up a fight.
First, however, Sylar would have to acquire Maya's power. He could picture her face contorting into absolute hatred. She would most likely try to kill him first. Pity. She was more beautiful when frightened, or looking at him with those adoring puppy eyes . . . Shame he could no longer inspire any feeling in her besides hate. He had enjoyed manipulating her, having complete control over her emotions. He was deeply disappointed when she found out about him murdering her brother. He had hoped to play with her emotions more . . . but it was not to be.
He had been forced to kill her. He had regretted it seconds after he did it. But Sylar knew that she had given him no choice. If she hadn't found out about her brother, he could've let her live longer. But as it was, he perceived her as a threat to his life. Sylar remembered how he had felt, as he watched her die, as he watched the blood pour from the lifeless figure that had once been so beautiful.
He had hated her, for one thing. She forced him to pull the trigger. She made him kill her, and waste her potential. He had grieved over the loss of her power. He remembered being disappointed that she should die so soon, disappointed that he no longer had the chance to toy with her, to make her fall apart. When he saw Mohinder had the healing blood with him, he knew he had to see whether there was some sort of trick. He needed to know whether the injection really contained the blood that could both heal the dead and cure him, or whether the injection was a poison. If it was the healing blood, he would hate himself for passing up an opportunity to bring Maya back. For one thing, he wanted her power. For another . . . there was something about her that was different from anyone else he had met. He wanted the time to figure out what it was. Then he would kill her of course. And take her power . . .
Sylar allowed himself to fantasize about obtaining that power. He pictured himself freezing Maya before she could use her powers. Her childlike hatred would be forever frozen on her soft face. He would hack her skull, carefully remove her brain, and delight in her delicious power. Oh, how he wanted that power.
But, he then realized, he would dislike destroying such a beautiful soul. She was so easy to manipulate, so trusting, so . . . adoring. He had turned her interest in his situation into hope by mentioning that he knew the doctor. He had turned that hope into awe and respect when he refused to turn her in, though he knew she was a murderer. He turned that respect into friendship, gratitude and deep trust with that picnic. And from there, had made her turn to him as her only form of guidance, as her only helper, as her only true friend. He made her dependent on him. He made her believe that he was the only one in the world who truly cared about her. He knew she was beginning to love him, but she wouldn't allow it to manifest. So, he helped her along by appearing wet and shirtless in that doorway.
Sylar smiled at his own genius. Not only was she too distracted to see her dead brother in the room; she had completely fallen for him. Sylar could tell that she felt she needed him, that she wanted him, and she loved him. Love. Sylar had never before influenced that emotion. Maya was the only person who had ever fallen in love with him.
When he was young, he was a loner. No one paid him any attention, and equally, he ignored everyone else. He was always behind a book, trying to achieve the greatness his mother wanted for him. But his studies never brought him pleasure. Only fixing watches did that. He loved to figure out how each individual timepiece worked. Occasionally, he would get bored with figuring out watches. When he did, he would figure out how a certain girl "worked". He would say all the right things, go through all the right motions, and she would be kissing him within minutes. He would search for love, but he never found it. Such girls never fell in love with him as a person; they only gave into a temptation that he carefully provided. Playing with their minds became boring; all were the same faulty creatures.
But Maya had been different. She hadn't fallen in love so much with his words or even his actions, though they had certainly helped. Sylar knew she loved how he could relate to her, and her past. She loved how he could make her feel normal, how he could make her feel human. She loved him for teaching her to control her ability. And all that she loved him for was actually true.
Sylar could relate to her. She reminded him of a version of himself; only she didn't have the ability to figure out how the world worked, and that made her naïve about evil. He had enjoyed making her confident in her ability, and her humanity. It pained him to see those who had power be ashamed of it. Those who were ashamed didn't deserve to have any power. And he had taught her to control her ability, but not completely out of self-interest or to get rid of Alejandro, though both motivations had been there. He had also taught her to control it because she lived in fear of herself and what she could do. Sylar knew what it was to live in fear.
When he was a child, he was in constant fear of being rejected by his mother because he wasn't special enough. When Sylar's father wasn't bringing in enough income, everyone would suffer. Sometimes, when Sylar did something to disappoint her in that time, she would become furious and toss him into the street as punishment. This eased his parents' financial situation. She thought that her son would stay with a friend. But Sylar had no friends. Sylar would be forced to sleep in the street, fearing for his life for several days, constantly visiting his father at work, checking to see if his income had changed for the better. Sylar never hated his mom for her actions because he knew she was right to punish him as she saw fit. He felt he needed to be punished. He needed to be special, and he failed. And on her part, when he came back she always apologized, cried, hugged him, told him he was a good boy, and she just wished that he could be more. He never told her that he lived in the street during these periods of time. She never asked. But he feared her losing hope in him, he feared disappointing her. With experiences like that, he couldn't let Maya live in fear. He knew it could destroy her.
Not only that, but Maya had forced Sylar to experience emotions he hadn't felt in a long time. Guilt for his mother's death, and the joy of being loved. Sylar had never experienced the second emotion before. His mother had only ever loved the man he might become. His father only loved him because he was following in his footsteps. Maya, though he had told a few lies, definitely loved him for him. She even empathized with his committing murder! And, if she hadn't seen him pull a gun on Mohinder, she probably would love him still.
But guilt and love are worthless emotions. They only drag you down. He was the ultimate being. He couldn't allow himself to be held back by anything. He would kill Maya. But not yet. He wanted to play with her mind some more. She was so amusing, and so easy to influence. Forget the pleasure of being loved. It easily compared to the pleasure of being feared. He would make her fear him. Fear is like respect, and respect is a form of love. And better still, fear is easy to sustain. And once he was satisfied with her fear, he would kill her, without a drop of remorse or regret. Besides, he had a larger problem to deal with.
The Company. They had injected him with a virus that insulted him by taking away his powers. Not only that, but he would've died without the cure. Anything that posed a threat to his evolution, that tried to hinder it, needed to be eliminated. And anything that beat him, needed to pay.
The first time the Company had captured him; he beat them by outsmarting them and escaping. This time, they stripped him of all that made him special. They took what he needed to feel confident in himself, and they took what he needed to feel safe. On top of that, they tried to slowly kill him. Well, for that he would take the Company apart until not a single member remained. He would slaughter them all.
Smiling, Sylar slowly rose to his feat, trying to regain control of his hearing. It took him two minutes, but finally the sounds faded to a tolerable level. That was better control than what Dale Smither's accomplished in her lifetime. Feeling proud of himself, Sylar began to outline his plans for the future.
First, he would regain control of his abilities, practicing in empty alleys. Second, he would travel to Odessa, Texas. That's where he would find the Company. He would go into Primitech paper, kill all there, and take what power it had to offer. From there, he would look for information on the Company's work, and where every one of their offices were located. Then, he would stalk Maya. Make it a game of cat and mouse. Slowly make her fear him. She would be hard to break. Sylar imagined her standing her ground as the games began. He would fight her, then, let her think she was winning. He would let her chase him, while in reality he would always be one step ahead. He would toy with her, and again, she wouldn't notice. She would be determined to catch him, determined to do whatever it took to bring him down, never giving up, even when she feared him. Such determination was admirable. He respected her for that.
Respect is a form of love, Sylar's thoughts taunted him. You're weak. You love her back.
No, Sylar decided simply, without a doubt that the answer was the truth. I don't. I like how she loved me. It was fun, a sense of belonging like I never had. But no one can love a man like me. I don't want them to anymore, and now I know I could never love anyone back. I can see all of their flaws, how they work, and their flaws take away any romantic feelings I may have. Better to have people fear and respect me. And as soon as I acquire enough power, they will. It's only a matter of time.
With all of the disturbing thoughts of love banished from his mind, Sylar set off at a brisk walk. Soon, he would be unstoppable.
Maya entered the alleyway. But she was too late. All she found there were a few bags of garbage, and dirt. Her heart sank. Sylar must have moved on. But she would find him. She had too. And he had definitely been here.
Sitting by the dumpster was an empty syringe. Traces of red lined the inside. Dr. Suresh had said Sylar took off with the healing blood. Maya was sure that the empty syringe had contained that blood. She had been so close to locating him. She should be able to find him again. It would be easy. As long as she had the right help, she could find him.
Unfortunately, the 'right help' was at Dr. Suresh's apartment. She hoped she could convince him to help her cause, even after she stormed out of his door. He knew Gabriel better than she did. He might be able to help her find him. Molly could only say where Gabriel was, and not predict where he would be next, but still, her ability would help. Together, the three of them would find him, but Maya alone would take him down. He was her fallen Angel. Her first love, her first hate. It was her right to do with him as she saw fit. She would ensure he died— no matter what the cost.
A/N: Sylar assumes he'll be chasing Maya. He knows she hates him, but he doesn't expect her to come after him so soon . . . I can't wait until the writer's strike ends and the new season is in production. Tell me what you think about this story. Any opinion is welcome.