Author's Note: Since this has to be AU, some events did happen to Sylar, some did not. This is more related to A Christmas Carol than Heroes, so don't worry that something isn't canon, just enjoy. Again, please review if you like it.
A Sylar Christmas Carol-The Ghost of Christmas Past
Sylar threw an arm over his eyes, trying to block out the bright light that was invading his consciousness. He could hear voices singing Christmas carols in the distance. "Who the hell sings at this hour?" he demanded of no one in particular. When his eyes managed to adjust to the brightness, he looked around. Standing in the middle of the bare room, he saw a young girl, one who seemed familiar to him. He sat up quickly in bed, saying, "I know you. You're that girl who can find people. Milly, is it?"
"I am the spirit whose coming was foretold." She stepped closer to Sylar's bed. He could see that she was wearing a white dress that barely touched the floor, as if she were floating just above it. She smiled at him, innocence shining from her face. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."
Sylar gave her one of his narrow-eyed glares, and stretched out a hand, intending to envelop her in electricity. Nothing happened. He looked at his hand in disbelief. Jumping out of the bed, he walked over to her. "What the hell have you done to me?" he demanded, looking down at her threateningly.
Unperturbed, the child said, "We are going back to Christmas's in your past."
"You've got to be kidding," he snorted. What kind of nightmare was this? Maybe something he had eaten earlier hadn't been cooked all the way through. "Look, I'm not the religious type, so you're really wasting your time."
"It's my time to waste. Take my hand," she said firmly.
Sylar, despite himself, took her small hand in his. Instantly, he felt himself lifted in a whirlwind, flying over blurred landscapes faster than his eyes could follow. Finally, he found himself in front of a plain, wooden house, the ghost girl at his side. He looked at the house, confused.
"Do you remember this place?" the spirit asked him.
"I used to live here," he said, frowning angrily. He tried to turn away, but the spirit grabbed his hand, pulling him forward. They reached the front door. "Now what?" Sylar asked impatiently.
"Why, we go in, of course." Sylar found himself being pulled through the door, as if it didn't exist. They stood in the center of a living room. To the side of the room sat a round table, and atop the table stood a small tree, decorated with tiny Christmas bulbs and cheap tinsel. A handmade gold star had been placed on top of the tree. No presents lay beneath it.
A woman entered the room, holding a cup of steaming liquid. She walked over to a young boy sitting on a couch against the wall. "Here's your tea, Gabriel."
Surprised, Sylar whispered, "They'll see us!"
"These are the shades of what once was. They cannot see, or hear us. Watch," she said, pointing to the little boy and his mother.
"Mommy, where is Daddy today?"
The woman's shoulders seemed to sag under some unseen weight. "Your father went out for awhile. He'll be back later."
"Is he getting presents? Is that why he's been gone so long?" Excitement shone on the boy's face.
The woman didn't know how to tell her son that his father was not out getting presents. In fact, she didn't know where he was. And she didn't mind him being gone either. She ran her fingers through her son's dark brown locks. "Be a good boy, and finish your tea. It's almost time for bed."
"He never did come home that night. Not for days," Sylar said, not without some bitterness in his voice. "She did the best she could, but he gave her nothing." Sylar remembered the one gift he found under the tree the next day. It was a sweater that his mother had made herself. He tried not to show his utter disappointment, hugging her tightly while thanking her. Even though he was a child, he knew that her unhappiness was his father's fault. And he hated him for it.
"Can we leave now?" Sylar asked, but regardless of her answer, he had no intention of remaining any longer.
Luckily, the spirit took his hand, and again, they whisked through the air, flying over ever changing landscapes. Sylar now saw that they were standing in front of a roadside diner. A familiar car was parked to the side of the lot. Not here, he thought. Not now.
"Shortly after, a life changing event occurred," the spirit said, almost sadly.
Sylar stood watching, as his father led his unwitting son into the diner, who while waiting, saw his father give another man money. He was left with the man, and a woman he didn't know. Then his father exited the diner, returning to the car. Sylar recalled the confusion he'd felt as a boy, the fear he experienced as he ran after his father. He stood by the car, and saw his mother brutally murdered by the man who was her husband.
"Mom," Sylar whispered, when he really wanted to scream. In that moment, Sylar was Gabriel and Gabriel was Sylar. The adult was feeling what the boy was feeling. Time blurred, and the pain hit both versions of the same person.
Watching the car drive away, after his mother's body had been unceremoniously dumped on the side of the road, Sylar felt a part of the scene, remembering his own feelings as a boy looking down at his dead mother, blood on her forehead. Why had he never put together the image his child's mind had long forgotten, and the images in his adult life, as he killed for abilities? He felt a tightness in his chest that threatened to break his composure. "Ok, I get it, Spirit. Bored now. Can we leave?" he said, trying to act blase. His raised eyebrow did not go down until he felt himself being pulled by the whirlwind.
The scene instantly shifted to a green lawn in front of an ivied brick building. Sylar recognized his old high school. He saw himself as a young man, sitting beneath a tree, a book open in his lap.
"For a time, you knew happiness, didn't you?" the spirit queried.
Sylar nodded slowly, as he saw a pretty young girl walk up to the image of his younger self. He watched himself stammer a bit, then smile as she sat on the grass next to him. They chatted, about what, Sylar couldn't remember. It wasn't important really, only that she would listen to him, and smile even when he attempted to make a bad joke. Her name was Belle. An old-fashioned name for a sweet girl. He found himself falling for her. His adoptive mom, Virginia, said he was too young, that he deserved better. Gabriel got angry at her for saying that. Belle was special, and he loved her.
For the first time in his life, Gabriel found he had friends. Through Belle, he met Mr Jamison, who offered him an after-school job. There, he met his fellow employees, who marveled at how easily Gabriel repaired items customers would bring into the store. He, himself, would wonder that he could merely look at something, and he knew how it worked, and what it needed to be fixed.
Scene after scene shifted like a slide show, until it finally stopped. Sylar recognized the special holiday party Mr Jamison had put on for the store employees. No money was spared, as he ordered food by the pound brought into the warehouse. He had secured a live band, and had the entire room decorated so that everything was festive. He had the store closed early, so that everyone could join in.
Gabriel met up with some of his friends and Belle, with whom he danced more than once. Sylar smiled and watched, as everyone ate, drank, and sang Christmas songs with less than perfect tone. But no one cared, as they all were having fun. Mr Jamison gave everyone bonuses for working so hard that year. He gave Gabriel a bit more, secretly, saying that of everyone, his work was the most exemplary. He was amazed at how quickly his latest hire worked. More than one customer was very satisfied, and would say so. "Gabriel, I hope you will stay on after you graduate. I would hate to lose so hardworking an employee."
Gabriel smiled as he told his generous boss that he would stay until he left for college. It was his plan to attend college, but in fact, as time passed, and his dream seemed to evaporate, so did his love for Belle. He told her that she should find someone else.
"Gabriel, I don't want anyone else. I love you," she said sadly, tears dripping down her cheeks.
"It wouldn't work, Belle. It's over." He didn't want to hurt her, but he didn't want to be around her anymore. He had decided he would take over his adoptive father's business, the one he had abandoned as he had abandoned his own family. Gabriel didn't want anyone from his youth to see what a failure he'd become. This was the life he would accept, repairing watches and being a good son to his mother.
Sylar's face showed the turmoil that seethed within him. He wondered what his life would have been like if he had not killed that first victim, but had lived an ordinary life, with his small business,... and Belle by his side. Could he have been happy as a nobody? He made a sound of frustration. It was too late for having regrets. He had tried to start over, but no one would help him, or believe him, when he said he was sorry for everything he'd done. The realization that he had no friends made him angry. He looked at the spirit, who started laughing at him. That only made Sylar angrier, and he tried to physically shut her up with his bare hands. She began to shrink even as her laughter continued, until she vanished altogether. Sylar's vision began to spin faster and faster, until he passed out.
