A/N: Hey guys! This is my first attempt at Fan Fiction, but I write regular original stories too, so please don't just click off because you think I'm inexperienced haha.

So I'm re-watching Heroes, and I don't really remember much of it, so I'm working off of Season One right now. I guess I'll move the story along accordingly, as far as powers go, I don't know at this point, this might just end up being a completely different timeline from the actual show. We'll see I guess. :D

INTRODUCTION

For most who cross paths with the man called Sylar, the ending is grim, bloody, and deadly. When I met him, an allegiance was formed, an unstoppable force created. I guess you could say it was grim, bloody, and deadly, too. The things we would do, the people we'd kill together, and the powers we'd gorge ourselves on, this would be my future, and it was all exactly what I wanted. For Sylar, I'd do anything. I could only hope he felt the same.

CHAPTER ONE: Caffeine and Bad Intentions

I was walking the streets of New York, in a hurry to get back to my apartment and out of the cold air. I pulled my grey jacket closer to myself, and lifted the collar up higher over my neck. Thoughts of curling up in my nice fluffy blanket with some coffee ran through my head as I walked, my pace quickening. I was already picking out the movie I'd queue up on my Netflix and mentally searching my cabinets for sweets.

It was getting late, around the time when the crazies come out to party, so I didn't notice anything odd about him at first. He had his head down, a baseball cap shadowing his face. He rushed out of an office building and pushed his way passed the people between us. An old man ran out of the doorway he had just left, a gun in his hand. He panted, out of breath and waved the gun rapidly. I looked for the baseball cap that should have been right next to me by then. The gun-toting geezer had me so nervous I wasn't cold anymore, but goosebumps made their way across my arms under my jacket. I made a b-line for the nearest store, a coffee shop, and slammed through the doorway. And there he was.

He sat at a table in the corner, behind a menu he looked like he was sitting there all along. I, however, stood stunned in the doorway. One last look out the window for the gunman and I walked as casually as I could manage towards the beverage and ice-cream counter. A peppy girl in the cafe's orange and yellow striped uniform saw me and plastered a huge smile on her face.

"What can I get you?" she said in a sing-song voice.

"A uuum-," I had no idea.

I looked up at the menu board, stealing a glance at the mysterious stranger across the room. I ended up ordering an overpriced cup of coffee whose name I couldn't remember a second after I said it. It didn't matter much, it was delicious and having a coffee in my hand gave me a more legitimate reason for being in the coffee shop rather than just hiding from a crazy old guy who may or may not be still out there. If any shots were fired, I was not going to be one of those helpless bystanders that you read about in the paper, 'Shots fired: 5 dead, teen injured' Yeah, no thanks. Not how I wanted to end up a headline.

I sat down at a table facing the man. I didn't know why I felt drawn to him. I pulled my memo pad out of my jacket pocket to read over some notes from my Russian class, but I couldn't focus on the words with him in the room. I sipped my coffee and resisted the urge to look up.

He stood over me, and cleared his throat. I should have known, my intuition is usually pretty accurate. The urge to look over my shoulder had been so great, but I stifled it so as not to seem paranoid.

"Hello." He said politely, nothing scary about him now, but I still had that strange tugging in my chest, telling me he was dangerous. Usually, I would listen to that feeling, but instead I looked up at him, and smiled shyly.

"Hey there." I answered. He pulled off the baseball cap, revealing his short dark hair, and letting his amber eyes gleam in the overhead lights.

"You mind some company?" He gestured the the seat across from me and I shook my head, again ignoring my inner self who was running around in circles yelling at me to listen to it.

He sat down and I closed my memo pad, "What's your name?" I asked, tucking the notebook back into my pocket.

"Sylar" was his response, and a grin swept across his face, "and yours?"

"Memphis."

"Interesting name."

"I could say the same about yours. I've never met anyone named Sylar, but my grandfather had this old broken watch when I was a kid, had the name on it." I said, immediately regretting it. I was never very good at making conversation with new people. Honestly, like this guy cared about a watch.

"It's so sad isn't it? How people don't wear watches anymore." he was twisting the lid of the sugar dispenser on and off as he spoke. "There's something I never thought would go out of use." He chuckled. "Replaced by cellphones, such a shame."

I found myself transfixed by his hands turning the lid left and right, and my mind wandered. Why is he humoring me? And what was his purpose in talking to me anyhow? People in New York aren't usually this friendly. He must be from out of town or something. And again my mind was telling me to make up an excuse to leave, but I wanted to stay. I wanted to talk more with this man who actually seemed smart, and attractive—very attractive—and maybe even interested?

But then I looked back up at him, and his eyes were darting from window to window. Right, that man was after him. I see, he was just using me so he'd look more natural if the guy came this way.

And then it hit me, why I felt attracted to this man earlier, why I didn't leave when my senses told me to. He has a power. No, more than one. I couldn't believe I hadn't picked up on them earlier, usually I notice right away.

He saw the realization in my eyes, although he didn't know what I had realized until I asked him.

"So what is it? What do you do?"

His face fell into a question, and I could see his guard go up. He kept his composure pretty well, though, and played off the question.

"Oh, I'm kind of... between jobs right now. What do you do?"

"I think you know that's not what I was asking. But fine, if you want to keep it a secret, I can leave."

I grabbed my empty coffee cup and started to stand up.

"How did you know? Is that..." he looked up at me knowingly, "...your ability?" His eyes changed, got wild, hungry. His smile put me on edge, and my flight instincts keyed up again.

"Yeah, well it's one of them. But I feel that you have more than one as well. So do you absorb powers, too? I wasn't aware there were others like me." I couldn't hide my excitement.

"You could say that. When you say 'absorb', how exactly do you do that?"

As I sit back down, he pushed the sugar dispenser back to its original location, using telekinesis. My eyes widened, I hadn't seen that ability before.

"Bet that one's useful." I looked up to make sure we could have a private conversation, and satisfied, I explained it to him in a hushed tone.

"So, stop me if this sounds familiar, 'kay?"

The corner of his mouth lifted in a charming half-smile. He knew it wouldn't be the same as how he gets his abilities. He knew I wasn't going around unscrewing peoples skulls left and right. My power intrigued him, and he wanted it. I had become an unexpected bonus to his impromptu hideout.

"It all started when I met this guy about a year ago. He was this huge history buff, knew everything about the past, it was freaky. I liked him at the time, even though he was kind of an asshole, but that part doesn't matter right now. So after we had been dating for a little while, I started knowing things about history. I thought maybe I had just picked them up from our conversations, but some of them were so obscure I knew he had never brought them up."

"So your boyfriend had a power?"

"Yeah, like the least useful one I've ever come across. The power to know history." I rolled my eyes. "It had passed on to me. We didn't know until the second power I picked up that he even had an ability. He just thought he was some genius, a child prodigy or something."

Sylar leaned forward, waiting for me to tell him how my power worked.

"So later I came into contact with another power, this elderly woman who lived across the hall. She fell on the steps, and I heard her calling for help. I sat with her, stroking her hair to comfort her while we waited for the ambulance I called for. Her power—the power to detect powers—passed on to me as well. If I touch a person with one of these abilities for over a minute, I get the ability too. It's really weird, but I haven't found very many other people with powers. Most don't want to talk about their abilities, so I don't have any friends with them. My ex thought I was crazy when I told him his knowledge of history was a superpower. I guess that was kind of expected though."

Sylar watched my face intently. "That is not at all how I get mine."

"How do you then?"

"I think it would be better if I... showed you."

He slipped the baseball cap back over his hair, pulling it down in his usual fashion to conceal his face in shadows. He stood and held out his hand. I hesitated. His eyes were wild again, animalistic. It made me uneasy, but I wanted a friend I could talk to about superpowers without sounding like a nut. I took his hand and he led me out the door.