WARNING: Contains spoilers up to Episode 3x18: 'Exposed'.
Author's Note: This is my first time writing Luke, Sylar, and Heroes in general, so any comments on characterization (and spelling/grammar, of course, especially considering it's quarter after one in the morning) is much appreciated.
The only signs of life in the diner are his drying blood on the wall and his and Sylar's footprints in the dust. There's dust outside, too – Luke can see it through the torn-up boards, drifting back from his mother's car as Sylar drives away to find his father.
After the little episode in the diner, Luke's starting to see why Sylar needs to meet the man so badly.
Cradling his head in his hands, Luke ignores the sting as his fingers rest against the cut where his head slammed against the wall. It doesn't hurt, not as much as the fact that Sylar left him, or that the older man was convinced that he had used him for a joyride. He hadn't; Sylar had been an escape, true, but Luke would have followed him anywhere, would have idied/i for him ('And you nearly did,' his brain whispers, treacherous, because Luke didn't know his devotion was that deep). Sylar understood him better than anyone else ever had, and whether the serial killer would accept it or not, Luke was fairly certain it went both ways.
"Go home to your mother, Luke," Sylar had said, but Luke can't go back, just like Sylar can't. His mother watched as he killed a federal agent with his power, fried him until his blood boiled on their living room floor, to protect Sylar – a serial killer, a man who had broken into their house, who would have tortured his mother (and possibly him) like he'd tortured Agent Simmons. Even if that hadn't happened, they were a long way from Newark, New Jersey. He could make it back, but…
'It's what's in here… the will.' Sylar had said when they first met, pointing to his head, and Luke had known he was right. After that, Sylar had (albeit a bit unwillingly) taken him under his wing, and hadn't killed him – even though he'd been given the chance to numerous times. 'Hell, I probably would have killed me by now,' Luke thinks, scrubbing at his hair slightly as he stands, scuffing his shoes across the dusty floorboards.
Sylar is going to find his father, to get answers. Luke knows where Sylar's father is; he was the one who told Sylar where to find him. He can't go back to his mother, no matter how much Sylar wants him to – if the man wants to 'protect' him, he came a few years too late, and Luke has the scars from cigarettes to prove it.
"The will, huh?"
The teenager shifts, moving to the door and looking out. Sylar and his mother's car are nowhere in sight, but it isn't surprising. There is, however, another car coming down the road – a green mini-van with a bike rack. If he hitchhikes…
'There is no escape. There is only pain and you can never outrun it, no matter what you do, no matter where you go.' Luke recalls Sylar's words again, but this time, he smiles. If he's playing the role of pain (and he can almost hear Sylar muttering "A pain in the ass" in a way that Luke likes to think of as fond), then Sylar's almost making it easy for him.
"Sylar, you can't hide when I know where you're going."
And Luke has nowhere to go but forward.