Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or it's characters in any way shape or form. However, the made up in this story is completely mine. Kthanks.
Summary: Takes place after Season One. What happens to Sylar as we see he escaped from the police once again? What will Sylar do when he finds out that Peter has lived and is even a bigger threat now than ever before? (Contains Made-Up)
Author's Note: I guess this is kinda like Season Two written in my own style. I hope you guys like it. If you do, i'll do my best to continue the story. Enjoy!!
Chapter One
The bloody trail led right to the manhole. By the time the cops had noticed, it had almost completely dried itself into the cement. When they finally looked in the underground sewer, the waste had washed away any evidence they could have used. Their only hope at catching the fugitive was to search the sewers for any kind of lead.
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The putrid smell filled his nostrils as he hit the flowing water. Blood stained his face and clothes along with bits of waste the longer he stayed in the stream, the more he felt nauseated. Breathing heavily and feeling weak, he pulled himself out of the sewage onto the narrow walkway on either side of the stream. It took all of his remaining strength; and by the time he was fully out of the waste, Sylar felt as if he could still die at any moment. He could feel everything he'd eaten come back up through his throat, invading his mouth with the sickening taste of bile.
He could feel the gaping hole in his abdomen where Hiro had stabbed him. He was clutching it tightly, trying to slow down the blood flow, but he could still feel it slipping in between his fingers. All he had to do was hold on for a bit longer… He would gather his strength and then find another way out. Sylar could see black spots appearing in front of his eyes; coughing, he could taste the thick blood lining his throat, and suddenly, he blacked out.
---------------------------------------------------
Sylar awoke to find himself in a small bedroom, facing the ceiling. Disoriented, he forgot the moments of last night and almost thought he was Gabriel Gray again. But when he sat up to view his surrounding, he could feel the stab of pain run through his chest. Carefully maneuvering so that he wouldn't feel any pain (excluding the major headache he'd developed), he moved so that he was sitting upright with his feet over the side of the bed.
The room wasn't as small as it first looked. The wall opposite Sylar had a single window masked by dark curtains; underneath the window was an old desk with drawers overflowing with papers. Papers also lined the floor at random spots, making the room appear very untidy. A small light hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room and on the right wall there was a closed wooden door.
The room was painted a light green color and the floor was hardwood, giving Sylar chills as he placed his bare feet on it. Standing wearily, he made his way over to the window and peered out. What he saw let him know that he was still in New York, but thank God no longer in the sewers. It seemed the building he was on was a first floor of flat near the outer-edge of Manhattan. The more he walked around, the more the blood began flowing, and it wasn't long before he was able to move just about anything in the room.
A sharp sense reached the watchmaker's ears, ringing throughout his head in an annoying pattern. The noise came from outside of the room, beyond the wooden door; Sylar opened the door without moving and listened even harder, though it wasn't difficult to notice that there was someone else in the flat. He approached the small corridor outside of the room which led to what seemed to be a living room attached to a kitchen. Sitting on the couch in the living room was a boy with short blonde hair and glasses reading a US Weekly magazine. When the boy sensed Sylar's presence in the room, he turned his head to look.
"Good morning," he said in a monotone voice, returning back to his magazine, "I almost thought you'd be out for another day or so…" Sylar was puzzled. Who was this kid exactly?
"What happened to me…?" he asked quietly. The boy, however, did not answer his question. Instead, he neatly folded his magazine, placed it on the coffee table in front of the couch, arose from his seat and faced Sylar.
"I think it would be more appropriate to start with introductions first." He extended a hand, "My name is Ferris Thujon."
Sylar looked at the outstretched hand as if he had never seen one before. After a long moment of debating whether or not to take the hand, he extended his own hand to meet the other's. "Sylar."
Ferris smirked. "Formerly known as Gabriel Gray, you used to fix watches in your spare time until recently you discovered that you were meant for something more, oh say, killing special people to steal their abilities."
He was stunned. Face draining of all color, he jerked his hand back, not feeling at all comfortable around this boy. Ferris noticed.
"Don't worry about how I know that. That's another story. But, I guess you're wondering why the hell you're here. It's like this: the sewer system happens to be the most convenient way to get around the city, but no one knows it. I use it all the time and I never have to worry about any traffic and other delays. Well, while I was on my way to the other side of town, I stumbled upon a man, bloodied and passed out. That man happened to be you," he pointed to Sylar, who stood still, unimpressed by the fact that this kid was crawling through sewers.
"Anyways, I saw you and I couldn't help but wonder why you were down there. It was most certainly obvious that you were hurt, so I dragged you back to here and cleaned you up a bit. But of course, all this was a few days ago. You've been out for nearly 4 days, most likely."
None of this made any sense. Sylar didn't carry around a wallet or anything important, so how did Ferris know about what he used to be? But before he could wonder about it any more, the boy moved past him and into the kitchen where he could be heard rummaging through the refrigerator. Sylar took the moment to sit down on the couch.
"I don't have too much food, so I hope this will suffice," Ferris said, tossing him half of a hoagie wrapped in foil. The watchmaker didn't have the heart to eat at the moment. He still had a massive headache, and his stomach still felt like it was gushing blood.
As Ferris at his half of the hoagie, Sylar examined him more closely. Behind the thick rimmed glasses he was wearing, he had sparkling green eyes; he was wearing a blue pullover hoodie that had darker blue circles painted all over it. For his lower half, he donned a simple pair of black shorts that cut off at the knee. In contrast to Sylar's bare feet, he was wearing thin ankle socks the just barely fit.
Ferris wasn't very tall for a 19 year old, in fact, he was rather on the short side. He wasn't very athletic, but he also wasn't large. Just in the middle. "If you're not feeling well, I can give you a bit of anesthesia. It'll probably make you sleepy though…"
Sylar nodded his head wearily. Flashbacks of the other night played like a movie in his head. The bullets from Parkman… Peter aggressively punching him… Hiro appearing… the pain that followed… It all seemed too clear. Ferris appeared at his side with a cotton ball and a tiny jar. All he had to do was hold the cotton a few inches from Sylar's nose before his enhanced senses picked it up. Sylar hadn't even made it back to the bedroom yet, and he could feel the numbness coming on. Before he knew it, he was passed out on the hallway floor.
A/N: Like I said, if you like it, please comment and tell me, and i'll write more. Thanks!! uber huggles
