The bombs start falling on Christmas, and as the snow falls and the earth is covered in white, Sylar can see the dark sky illuminated with light, the soft boom of thunder betraying the shell-shocked ground below.
"The electricity is out," Sylar says, but it's Nathan's voice that fills the air. He watches Heidi stand by the window, her pale skin almost glowing.
"When do you think it'll end?" Heidi asks. Sylar shakes his head.
"I don't know."
Heidi moves to light a candle, but Sylar touches her hand. "Don't," Sylar says. He can almost see the look on Heidi's face, pursed and quizzical.
"Nathan?"
"Just don't," Sylar says. He kisses her softly. Heidi melts against him, and she's sufficiently distracted enough that Sylar can use his telekinesis to subtly close the curtains.
"Nathan, the curtains--"
"Shh," Sylar murmurs, and he kisses her eyes.
"I want to see you, though," Heidi says. She pulls away, gently. "Please?" Heidi asks. "We always used to before..."
Sylar's never seen Nathan naked, so he doesn't know if he can conjure an accurate enough image for her. Heidi would know the subtleties of Nathan's body, would have memorized each mole, each scar. Most nights, even with the curtains closed, there would still be that sliver of light filtering into the bedroom, just enough so that Sylar has to make love to her under the covers. A small voice tells him she probably wouldn't notice, that he's the obsessive one, not her, but he doesn't want to take that chance.
"I'd rather save those candles for emergencies," Sylar says. Nathan's voice is cool, rational. Presidential, always thinking. "And you know how I feel about the curtains. I don't like the idea of anyone looking inside."
Heidi sighs. "I suppose you're right," she says, and Sylar kisses her again.
With the streetlights burned out and the cloud-cover hiding the moon, the room for once is completely black. Sylar lays Heidi out reverently, his lips tracing the soft curve of her shoulder, the tender line of her collarbone. It's only then that Sylar makes the switch and drops the Nathan façade. For the first time, Sylar makes love to her as himself: it's Gabriel's lips that kiss her throat, Gabriel's hands that cup her gently. Sylar sighs and moves inside her, and it's Gabriel's face that burrows into her side.
"Wait," Heidi says. She starts to push him off. "Wait, wait."
"What?" Nathan's voice comes out of Sylar's throat.
"You've lost weight," Heidi says. Her hands skim the flat plane of his back, worrying over sharp angles and bone. "You feel different."
Sylar doesn't answer, just buries his face against her neck.
"Nathan," Heidi says. "Nathan you're shaking."
"Just let me hold you," Sylar says. "Please, I don't want to talk anymore. I just want to hold you."
"Okay," Heidi say. "Okay, okay."
And Sylar gathers her up and presses his face into her hair. Outside, he can hear the sound of bombs dropping in the distance, the whispered boom like carolers in the snow.