Chapter 1 – You Have Loved Enough

The bar haze slunk across the battered lounge room as a new swell of after work drinkers caused the bartender to leave his half finished article and get to work. On a Friday night in Brooklyn there are some bars not even the tourists will reach and the Union was one of them. It sat in a side street between a closed down book store and a lively Irish bar which claimed most of the post-work crowd. The Union was much loved by the people who made it their regular haunt, but few new patrons breached its door – it just wasn't that kind of place. There was nothing for the clientele to tell, just another bar with just another pool table, another dart board and another row of taps filled with standard domestic beer. Tonight though, there was a relatively new customer, sat alone in a dark corner, just watching as she had done once a week for the last two months.

The door swung open and three young men bustled into the bar. One was young looking, maybe just 21, with shoulder length dark brown hair and a Pearl Jam t-shirt. One was Japanese, with spiky black hair and a striped shirt with rolled up sleeves. The last man was the one the girl in the corner was waiting for. He didn't know it yet, but she was. He had dirty blonder hair with long bangs which was swept across his blue eyes. He wore a long light brown wool coat and a pink shirt with a white t-shirt underneath it. She had seen this outfit before, the first night she had been here and the first time she had seen him. This felt like fate.

She knew his name was Mark, she had heard it one night whilst standing at the bar. She had been attracted by his quietness, his soft voice and his shy smile. He reminded her of a boy she'd known back in England. She had never spoken to that boy, but she was going to have this one. Something told her she was owed that much.


Mohinder Suresh was staring again, and he knew it. He could see Molly watching him out of the corner of his eye, but couldn't meet her gaze. He had sworn to protect her and instead had allowed Sylar to hover over her as she slept, allowed her to witness him shooting Maya and allowed Elle Bishop into her life.

On the night that Sylar escaped with Niki's cure Matt had come home expecting not to find Mohinder there. The fact that he was told him more than he needed to glean through his telepathy. The look on Mohinder's face had rendered Matt's ability completely unnecessary. They had sat opposite each other at the kitchen table barely speaking as the enormity of the situation presented itself. Sylar was back, and his involuntary hiatus seemed to have only whetted his appetite for murder. Mohinder remembered the look on Maya's face when the bullet had entered her chest. The pain from the gunshot had seemed secondary to the look of betrayal in her eyes, and he knew he had seen a young woman being murdered by the man she loved. When the gasp of breath had come from her revived body she seemed disappointed. Death had at least stopped her thoughts, but now she was back, without her brother, without her Angel Gabriel and with the cure she craved running through his veins instead of hers.

Matt had disappeared to bed, leaving Mohinder staring at the wall, wondering how he had come full circle. Sylar on the loose, Molly in danger, and this time no Noah Bennett to do the things which Mohinder couldn't bring himself to. The doctor knew that Sylar would be back for Molly, and probably for Matt too. With Molly's ability he could take a shortcut to any hero he chose, and with Matt's he could prise their identities from the Company. Sylar would be unstoppable this time.


Unstoppable.

Sylar's new apartment was a step up from the filthy motels he'd been used to on his South American jaunt. It was stereotypical yuppie comfort, all glass and wooden floors with neutral tones and no clutter. He knew that it wouldn't be long before Suresh and Parkman were pressuring the little girl into finding him, but he planned to keep moving this time.

He knew what loneliness was and he'd spotted it in the eyes of the investment banker he'd killed four hours previously. Sylar had followed him to the building and murdered him in the parking lot stairwell. Now as the body cooled in an alleyway dumpster he realised that the door man hadn't even blinked when Sylar passed the stolen passkey over the elevator button and started to ascend to the dead man's home. No one knew or cared who 611 was. The answering machine was empty, there were no photos, barely any food, lots of booze. No-one would miss this one for a while.

Suddenly his mind flashed on Maya. The plan had always been to kill her, and pulling the trigger hadn't been a problem. But he couldn't deny that when she had jerked back into life he felt…..what? Relief? Just that then, nothing else. He reluctantly recalled their first kiss, outside his motel room in Virginia, and how for the briefest of moments he had felt like a human being again. He thought of Gabriel Gray, and how he would never have dreamed of kissing a beauty like Maya. Then, just as fast as he had submitted to the memory he pushed it away. He was thankful that his old abilities were back, and that he wouldn't ever have to use those deceitful human powers of attraction and seduction ever again. He despised the way that he had been able to manipulate Maya, make her feel safe and loved and wanted. Putting a bullet to her had been the first honest thing he'd done.


The boys had been drinking for hours now and the girl noticed how Mark's voice was getting louder and how his laugh was surfacing more often. He disappeared to the men's bathroom and she followed. She waited for him, and wished she could skip forward in time, past her proposition, past his acceptance and straight to the part where he was hers. She knew he would come with her, leave his friends baffled and walk out of the bar with a girl he didn't know, back to his place where they'd sleep together, and where tomorrow morning he'd wake alone wondering why he felt so empty and used.

She knew it would happen, and she knew it was her making it happen. Some would call it a curse, but right now, as she looked into those perfect blue eyes, she knew it wasn't. It was a gift.