This fanfic starts off at Season 3, Episode 16 "Building 26" when Sylar embarks on his road trip with Luke. Me, (not liking Luke) decided to replace his character with one I modeled after myself. I thought Sylar needed a good, strong woman companion because Elle is just plain annoying to me (Their relationship which was seen in the episodes prior to the ones stated here never happened). The events lead up to Episode 19 "Shades of Gray" when Sylar meets his father. Alternate timeline after that.

I obviously got the idea for the title of this fanfic from the SArmy, which I am a member of, and decided to create a story based around that title.

I used to write Potter fanfics back in the day, but this is my first Heroes one, and actually the longest one I've written thus far. I've never been so dedicated to a piece of writing; I usually start things and never finish them... so this one is definitely worth reading! Comments/feedback is loved and appreciated! I hope you enjoy it!

[Disclaimer]: I do not own heroes or any of the characters except for Kyle Novak who is my original character.

UPDATE (11/22/10) To all my followers: I know I have basically fallen off the planet and I am extremely sorry about it! You will be happy to know that the next chapter of the story is currently in the works, but while that is being written, I decided to go back and proofread the older chapters of the story: I discovered that it really needed to be edited! They were awful. haha. So please enjoy the newly polished chapters until the new chapter is complete! Thanks to all of you for your dedication to the fanfic!

It was the third time this week my mother had taken me to the shrink in hope that there would be some progress with my "condition," as she called it. Within those three sessions, the psychologist had come to the conclusion that I was a pathological liar who was experiencing a rare type of delusions. Well, at least she came up with some sort of evaluation, she was the first; all the other shrinks refused to see us for a third or even a second time because they just thought my mother and I were both crazy. But as original as her theory sounded, it didn't even come close to the actual truth.

There was a girl named Gabby who used to torment me in high school on a daily basis. Whether it was my clothes, my hair, or my overall appearance in general, she would prepare some type of rude remark for the day. I actually had to give her some credit; she would never use the same insult twice and always had a fresh one to throw at me. One day I decided I was fed up with her. If she thought she was so perfect, so beautiful and incapable of flaws I was going to show her how wrong she truly was. One day I imagined her walking into one of our classes wearing nothing but her underwear. To my surprise she actually did it. She had transferred schools after that and I never saw her again. I had humiliated her beyond repair… that was when I learned what I could do.

Not only could I make people do what I wanted them to do, I discovered later I could hear their thoughts, feel their deepest desires. And not just with people, with animals too. And then I learned I could move objects with my mind.

We were coming back from the session when I first met him. We turned down our street, I saw our neighbors playing ball with their kids on the front lawn. It made me reminisce when my mom and I used to do things together… we were happy once. But that was before she knew what I could do. She stopped spending time with me then. That was when I started to notice the fear in her eyes.

"This is the sixth psychologist we've been to," my mother started. She had the most annoying high-pitched voice that made me cringe every time she opened her mouth. "Why can't they figure out what's wrong with you?"

What was wrong with me. As if I were some sort of deformed monster. I snorted. "Didn't you hear her, Meredith?" I drolled. "I'm a delusional, pathological liar, remember?"

"You and I know both know that's not it," she hissed. "If only someone would believe us—"

The only reason I indulged my mother during these trips to the shrinks was because it was amusing to me to watch them look at her like she was completely insane. I didn't dare let them have the privilege of witnessing my power, though; my ultimate fear was that they would lock me away and never let me use it ever again…

"If only you would show them what you can do, Kyle," she said angrily.

I didn't answer. She noticed the smug look on my face. "Wipe that smirk off your face before I do it for you."

My smile widened into a grin. " I don't think that would be wise, Meredith."

We were pulling into the driveway when I noticed his presence. I knew he was inside waiting for us; I could feel him. He wanted something… what was it? I wanted to find out. I let my mother unlock the door and go inside. He was waiting for us in the front room. He sat in my father's old armchair sipping something from a mug I had given Meredith for mother's day, which said "World's Greatest Mom."

His hair was slicked back, a sinister grin on his face that matched his auburn eyes. It was his stare that had me frozen.

"Oh, good, you guys are home," he said, his voice was silky smooth but held authority in it. "This tea is fantastic by the way, would anyone like some?"

Meredith gasped and dropped her keys. "Who the hell—"

"Oh, right—how rude of me, I forgot about introductions," he said nonchalantly.

His voice made me shiver, his deep tone went splendidly with his whole appearance.

"My name is Sylar."

My mother began to say something when she was interrupted, as if an invisible clasp had her lips locked together. I noticed Sylar's hand had moved the same time Meredith's lips closed.

He was like me. I wondered if he knew what I could do, if I was the reason he came here… my heart began to thump so loud I could hear it in my head.

"Meredith, is it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

He then turned his attention on me. I felt my heart skip a beat and looked away.

"You must be, Kyle," he said softly.

I noticed his hand had changed from its previous position.

"What do you want us?" Meredith squealed. I could hear her voice trembling.

"Us? Who said anything about an 'us'?" Sylar asked in amusement. He was playing with us. I could tell this wasn't the first time he had done something like this before; he wanted to show that he was in control.

I glanced at him. He was staring at me. I wanted to read his mind but I was too terrified; I didn't know what he was capable of.

"Are you here because of what Kyle can do?" Meredith's voice cracked as she spoke.

"Do?" Sylar asked, quite taken aback. His whole expression changed unexpectedly. "Are you like me, Kyle?" His head titled to one side with curiosity. "What can you do?" he asked soothingly. His tone somehow made me want to answer him.

"Just answer him, Kyle!" Meredith shrieked.

I cringed. Sylar's hand moved and my mother was thrown up against the wall, her mouth clasped shut for a second time. "Shhhhhhhhhhh—" he crooned. "Are you going to tell me, Kyle? Or am I going to have to get it out of Meredith here instead?" He made a squeezing movement with his hand at the same time my mother reached for her neck and started gasping for air.

I had to do something even though I had a strong desire not to. "I can control people and move objects with my mind," I said calmly.

I saw Sylar light up like Christmas morning and a smile spread like butter across his face. I had just become his prey. I could feel the desire pulsating through him.

I stared at him as he walked towards me; a gasp from my mother confirmed that he had stopped choking her. I couldn't move. He was so close now I could hear the thoughts in his head without trying; I could feel his hot breath against my skin. Whatever he was here for before, his plans had changed.

He reached out a hand and stroked my hair. "Show me."

My mother did nothing; she made no protest, no struggle to attempt to save me from him. He either had her bound beyond restraint, or she had no will to stop him.

I had the strong urge to make him strangle her, but before I could stop myself he had already turned on her again. I watched him as I heard her screaming for air. I stopped him.

He looked at me, eyes wide with hunger.

He spoke, this time with admiration, "You are special, aren't you, Kyle?"

He wanted my power. I could feel him inside my mind; the yearning was so strong it made my head hurt. I realized then what he could do: he had the ability to take others' powers.

He looked directly into my eyes. I became frozen in his stare.

Before I could take control of the situation, I heard his thoughts: he wasn't going to kill me and take my power.

"This is usually the part where people start screaming," he whispered in my ear.

The silky sound made a shiver run through my body that had nothing to do with fear. He was really good at this. I was too absorbed in his voice to speak.

"You read minds too, don't you?" he asked softly.

I nodded, my eyes still locked with his.

"Then you know why I've come here."

"Yes," I replied. His mission was to find his father, which was the reason he wanted me in the first place; I was the only person his father had trusted his location to after he left. There was a part of me that wanted to help him.

"Kyle, what the hell is he talking about?" Meredith screamed at me. I had forgotten she was still in the room with us. I looked at her. I did not even have to read her mind to tell that she blamed me for all of this.

Before I could say anything Sylar moved his hand and sent her flying across the room. She hit the wall with a loud "thud". Silence followed as she lay still on the floor.

I stared at her. I felt nothing. Sylar noticed my lack of compassion and smiled. "I'll make you a proposition, Kyle," he said, "if you help me find my father, I'll let you live."

I turned my attention on him. He was telling the truth.

I wanted to go. I wanted to get away from this place… from her. I despised her. I knew I could easily make Sylar do anything I wanted, but I wanted to help because he was my one-way ticket out of this hellhole. He and I both knew I was going to take it without a fight.

We were driving up highway 18 in Meredith's Mercedes. I had stolen the keys off the floor where Meredith had dropped them; I left no note or means of goodbye. I was glad to be rid of that place… to be rid of her.

Sylar sat next to me in the passenger seat, deep in thought for he did not talk much.

I kept my eyes on the road but shot quick glances at him periodically. I could not help it, he was just one of those types you had to stare at.

Although he was immensely intimidating, I felt somewhat in control. I was bolder now that I knew what his motives were.

He had liked my gift very much; and even though I knew he wanted to kill me for it, it flattered me. I was warming up to him little by little, and I actually felt like I belonged here, in this car with him… like I had a purpose. I could not remember ever having these feelings before. They were new to me, but I had been longing for them, I was just waiting for someone to come and help me figure things out. I believed Sylar was that person.

I read his mind from time to time. He was conflicted about his hunger for my power, but his craving to know his father was stronger. This did not frighten me; all it did was make me uncommonly curious about him. He fascinated me, and I wanted to know more.

"I could hear everything, you know," I said with confidence. "Your struggle…"

"Yeah? And what's that?" he asked in a mundane tone.

"Your trying to figure out whether you want to kill me now or wait until you find your father first."

"I'm a resourceful person, I could find other means of finding my father."

"I don't think you will… kill me, that is," I said daringly. "Even after you've been reunited with dear ol' dad." I felt myself getting disturbing playful with him, but I wanted to know how far I could push him, what his limits were.

I glanced at him; he was looking out the window when he spoke. "You seem so sure of yourself," he sounded bored but I could sense his interest; he was just as absorbed with me as I was with him.

"We're too much alike, you and I."

I saw him glance at me out of the corner of my eye.

"You don't know anything about me," he said angrily.

As soon as he said that I saw deep inside his thoughts. They were stronger than ever, and I could feel them as he felt them.

"Ah," I said simply, "we are very much alike, Sylar." I grinned. "Both driven away by a parent who feared us, who couldn't stand to look at us because of what we can do… because of what we are. That same parent holding us back all those years, never allowing us to reach our full potential…"

He grabbed my arm. " I don't care how much you read my mind, you know nothing about me," he said severely.

I sat in silence for a moment. He let go of my arm and went back to staring out the window.

"Tell me—" he began.

I sensed the curiosity about his father and cut him off. "Your father was a great guy," I said as I remembered the time I spent with his father, our relationship was special to me in many ways because he was the only one who understood my gift as both a blessing and a burden. I was sincere in my depiction of him. "My mother bought our house from him after my father left us, he lived in the house behind us. I used to visit him constantly, especially after I found out how much we had in common—"

"What can he do?"

"I don't know for sure, he never told me and he was good at never thinking about it."

Silence.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Sylar asked annoyed.

"Trust me, I know."

"And how do I know this just isn't a way for you to keep your head?"

I looked at him. He looked back, but I was lost for words. I could feel his eyes upon me even after I went back to watching the road. It was somewhat deserted except for a random car now and then going in the opposite direction. It lay at the bottom of a ravine that led up to the mountains where his father was. He had told me before he left. He never mentioned he had a son though, never even thought about it, as if he had wiped his memory clean of all recollections of Sylar.

"You just can," I said after a while. "I can't really explain it." I had no intention of losing my power or being killed and I was somehow going to win Sylar over, I just did not know how yet. "You kill people and take their powers?" I said in attempt to change the subject, and because I was extremely interested as to how it worked.

"It seems that way," he replied. "Not killing you is kind of a big deal for me, kid."

"Yes, but you want to kill me, so I wouldn't consider that progress," I said smiling. This was fun. I could feel him looking at me again. I did not give him the chance to reply, "So, you're like a serial killer, then?"

"I am not a serial killer," he said sharply, putting an emphasis on the "not."

"Well, you prey on certain types of victims, you have a pattern, so technically—"

"Okay, I'm a serial killer," he said, almost ruefully. I felt his mood shift drastically. The comment seemed to make him ponder deeply about the fact that he was a serial killer. He seemed almost disgusted with this fact.

"You're not going to kill me, Sylar."

There was no reply.

"You see too much of yourself in me, which is why you'll never bring yourself to do it."

Silence. He knew I was right.

"There's some empathy in you," I said and looked at him. "I can feel it; probably the only thing in you that makes you different from a killer, from a monster… I don't think you're a monster."

"That can change very quickly." His mood shifted again. He was not bluffing, but it did not scare me.

"How does it work?" I asked. "When you…"

"Take people's powers?" he said, smiling. He bent close to me and whispered in my ear, "I eat their brains." There was something sensual in the way he said it, as if it were a pleasurable experience for him. It made me shiver, again not out of fear.

I knew he was lying about the eating part, but I felt this overwhelming desire to watch him kill. Something took over my body just then; I felt myself change in that moment, and somehow I knew there was no going back.

"Stop."

The sharpness in his voice startled me out of my thoughts.

"Pull in there," he said and pointed to a small abandoned building that sat by itself on the side of the highway.

I pulled into the dirt driveway and stopped the car. The building looked like what used to be a small restaurant. It had the words "Big Jim's Diner" painted on the front side, which confirmed my theory.

He got out of the car; I followed.

It was nothing more than a piece of forgotten architecture. Debris lay about and blew in the breeze, the windows were boarded up and broken glass surrounded the tiny building. It looked as though it had not been used in years.

I watched Sylar carefully. His expression was lost in his thoughts. He did not need to tell me that something had happened here, but I asked him anyways: "What is it?"

He held up his hand as a sign for me to be quiet. He then made quick movements with the same raised hand; with each gesture the planks that had been nailed to the doors and windows started to fly off the building one by one.

I watched as pieces of wood flew past me; I watched as he stripped down the barrier to his past.

When all the wood had been removed, he stood and stared at the massacred doorway for a good while. He then proceeded inside. I trailed closely behind.

The interior did not look any better than the exterior; broken pieces of wood and glass covered the floor, which had been reduced to nothing but dirt. There were overturned chairs and tables lying about; it looked like a tornado had been through the place.

I dared not utter a word as I watched Sylar study our surroundings. He would touch random things, consider them for a moment, and then move on to the next object. He went over to what used to be a bar and ripped open a wooden plank, not with his ability, but with his own hands.

He kneeled down, reached into the hole where the plank had been and pulled out a small toy car. He looked at me, an unsettling expression on his face. "Something terrible happened here," he murmured.

He closed his eyes and began to twirl the car between his fingers. I noticed his eyes were twitching rapidly behind his eyelids.

I knew it was rude to be nosey, but I was curious to see what he was remembering. I knelt beside him, but he was too deep in his thoughts to notice my presence. If I were to touch him, I would be able to jump into his mind and experience his memories as if I had been there myself.

I hesitated. I wanted him to trust me, but I wanted to know more about him. One peek couldn't hurt, right? I placed my hand to his temple… that's when it happened: I saw his eyes fly open and his pupils dilate to the point of blackness. I felt mine do the same.

I felt myself jump into his mind. Everything was in black and white when I arrived. I was kneeling in the same spot I had been before, but Sylar had gone and everything looked new and clean, not the dump we had been in. People were sitting down at the tables and waiters were walking around taking orders. The room was filled with chatter and laughter. I heard a bell ring and saw the front door open. A man came into the diner with a young child. I couldn't get a good look at the man, but the kid looked oddly familiar. He was no more than seven or eight years old. His hair was parted to the side and he was wearing huge, square glasses with thick rims. The man took the kid to an empty table next to the bar. He then went over to a table where a couple was sitting and started to converse with them. I could not make out what they were saying, so I turned my attention to the kid: He had brought out a small car from his pocket and started playing with it. It was Sylar. He pushed the car off the table and it rolled underneath the bar. Little Sylar looked at the man who had come in with him (I suspected the man to be his father). I followed his gaze and saw another man give Sylar's father a wad of money. His father took the money and went out the door without retrieving Sylar. Little Sylar got up and followed him; I did the same.

His father had gotten into a car with a woman sitting in the passenger seat. I saw Sylar stop and call out to his dad. The woman looked as though she were arguing with his father. And then something horrible and unexpected happened: with one small movement of his hand, Sylar's father had sliced open his mother's head. Blood splattered across the back window of the car as Sylar screamed. I watched in horror as little Sylar stood helpless, calling for his mother.

His father pushed the body out of the car, slammed the door and drove away. The last thing I saw was her body lying there in the dirt with a gash across her forehead, blood streaming down her pretty face.

I then felt myself being thrown back to reality. I let my hand fall from Sylar's temple and my body fell to the floor. I started to gasp for air because of the mind transferencey.

Sylar stood up next to me. He waved his hand and threw me against the wall facing him; I saw anger and pain in his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Sylar," I said to him.

He squeezed his outstretched hand. I started to feel pressure on my throat…

"You saw everything, didn't you?" he said furiously.

"I'm sorry," I choked.

"He killed my mother," he said with the same anger and pain I saw in his eyes. A single tear slid down his cheek. He let go of my neck and dropped me.

"I didn't know," I said through gasps for air. "I would have told you if I knew…"

"Would you?" he yelled. "You made him out to be a saint!"

I finally caught my breath. "I said I didn't know," I said firmly. "I'm sorry!"

He started to walk towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to kill my father. Go home, Kyle, I should have never brought you with me—"
"Then how are you supposed to find him?"

"There are other ways of getting what I want."

"There is no other way, you need me, Sylar!" I said desperately. "I can't go back now… I won't." I wanted him to take me with him more than anything.

I ran passed him out of the diner and to the Mercedes. I grabbed a pen and paper from the glove compartment and wrote down the address where his father was.

"Here," I said, shoving the piece of paper into his hand. "This is where you can find him."

Sylar looked at the paper. "You do realize this was your only means of leverage? There's nothing to stop me from ripping your skull open now."

"I thought by doing this you would be able to trust me…"

He stared at me, all traces emotion gone from his face.

"There's nothing for me to go back to, Sylar. Please take me with you, please."

He folded the piece of paper in his hand, got into the car and started it.

"Wait—what are you doing?" I said, grabbing the door of the car as if it would somehow keep him from going.

Just then a bunch of black cars with sirens came bursting into the lot, followed by what looked like a prisoner van. I noticed they were not cop cars.

"What the—"

"Goodbye, Kyle."

"Sylar, no!"

He sped off down the road just as a group of men wearing masks and black jumpsuits came out of the van. They had guns and started to shoot at Sylar but were too late. They then turned on me and the last thing I remember was being shot at.

I felt a cool breeze on my face. I could see the shadows of leaves and branches twinkling through my eyelids. I was moving… but how? I could not open my eyes to look. I tried raising my eyelids but they were too heavy. I groaned in frustration.

"Wake up, Kyle."

The voice sounded strangely familiar. Was this real or was I dreaming? I wanted to open my eyes and see him so that I would know it was real…

My eyelids finally started to cooperate. I slowly opened them to find everything disoriented; colors were blurred together and everything was much too bright.

I rubbed my eyes with my hand and tried again. Things started to come into focus. I looked around: I was in the Mercedes, Sylar sitting next to me in the driver's seat.

"Sylar?" I said groggily. I felt like I was waking up with a horrible hangover.

"That's what it looks like," he replied with dry sarcasm. He seemed agitated by something.

"What happened?" I asked as my senses started to come back to me. "Who were those guys?"

"They were agents," he said simply. "They hunt people like you and me."

"Why?"

"Because they're scared of us."

I sat up too fast and felt dizzy. I grabbed my head to try and keep the car from spinning.

"You're going to be disoriented for a few minutes," he told me. "They tranquilized you."

"How long have I been out?"

"For about an hour."

How humiliating. Wait a minute… I was sitting in my mother's car with Sylar. My memory snapped back to me like a whip and I remembered that Sylar had left right before the agents took me. "You—you came back for me?" It wasn't intended to be a question, but I was unsure why he did.

Sylar glanced at me but said nothing.

"What made you change your mind?"

"Don't flatter yourself, the only reason I went back was to figure out how they were tracking me."

I grinned. "Yeah, but after you figured that out you could have left me there."

I shot a glance at him and could have sworn I saw him smirk.

"You killed them, didn't you?" I asked. "All of them…"

I took his silence as a yes. My heartbeat increased excitedly when I thought of murder.

"Can you show me?" I did not look at him when I asked this. It was a personal thing; I had never taken a life before, and I knew such an act would change me forever. But I wanted to learn, I wanted him to teach me… I wanted to change.

I felt his eyes on me. I looked at him and this time I saw he was wearing that sinister smile of his.

We arrived at his father's place after another hour of driving. We pulled up to a worn-down trailer; there were no surrounding houses. Piles of junk that consisted of unused furniture, trash and other possessions lay out in the almost non-existent front yard.

"Stay here," Sylar said adamantly, his gaze fixed on his father's house.

I obeyed. This was something Sylar needed to do this on his own and I respected that.

I dozed off after about twenty minutes. The slamming of the car door woke me up. I noticed Sylar had blood on his shirt.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

He opened up his shirt to show me.

"He tried to kill me… he wanted this power," he said, pointing to where his father had cut him. There wasn't even a scratch. "I can heal myself." It was an ability he picked up from some cheerleader.

"Did you…"

"Kill him? No." He grinned as he buttoned up his shirt.

I did not have to ask why not. I saw the picture his father clear in Sylar's mind; he was on an oxygen machine, gasping for air. The dark circles under his eyes and his sunken face made him look like death. He had cancer and Sylar was going to let him die a slow and painful death.

"Brilliant," I said, smiling.

Sylar tilted his head when he looked at me. I intrigued him.

"Why do you think I'm so interesting?" I teased him.

He started the car. "Because you remind me of me."

"I told you we were alike," I said smugly.

He half-smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, go figure."