Sorry I haven't updated sooner! But life has been crazy, and this is a long chapter! Hope you enjoy! Review, please!!

VVVVVVVVV

CHAPTER THREE

"Do you want to go first or should I?" Peter asked.

"Hm?" Sylar sat up. Peter turned to him. And as I watched, they were suddenly focused on each other as if they were the only two in the room.

"Do you want to start the story?" Peter prompted.

Sylar's eyebrows went up.

"Well, considering that your part starts when you had that dream about—"

"Yeah, your decisions started way before that, then—"

"Right. I ought to—"

"Yeah, and then I'll come in when—"

"Okay. I guess I'll…" Sylar rubbed his hands together, eyes distant, as if searching for the answer to a riddle he'd learned when he was a kid.

"I am actually…glad you're all here," he began, his gaze downcast. "Because all of you played a part in this story, whether you knew it or not." For just an instant, he lifted his eyes to mine. And then he took a deep breath—and when he began to talk, his voice reminded me of an old teacher I'd had, who had been very good at reading sad, scary stories.

"A long time ago, I was out…hunting, as had become my custom. I came across the Burnt Toast Diner on my way to…" he trailed off, then started on a different track. "Outside of it, in an alley, I met Hiro, who I soon discovered had a power infinitely more formidable than any of mine."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hiro straighten. Sylar went on.

"He was the master of space and time, and no matter how I tried, my powers couldn't touch him."

The obvious question lodged in my throat: Then why was Sylar still alive…?

"He didn't kill me," Sylar said, in rhythm with my thoughts. "Because he needed my help."

"What?" Ando cried. "You went to him for help? When was this?"

But Hiro had locked eyes with Sylar.

"He will tell you," he said evenly. Sylar nodded once.

"He needed me to remove an aneurism from the brain of one of his friends. Her name was Charlie."

"Did you?" Dad pressed. Sylar looked at him, but Hiro spoke.

"He did. His true power is to know what is wrong, and how to fix it. He fixed Charlie."

I saw Sylar's eyes mist over, and he swallowed, averting his gaze.

"He didn't do that for free," I said, my voice low. "What did you have to give him in return, Hiro?"

"He offered to tell me my future," Sylar said, quiet. Ando raised his eyebrows and leaned toward his friend.

"What did you say?"

Hiro did not move.

"I told him he would become the most powerful of all." His brow tightened. "But he would die alone."

Sylar's eyebrow twitched. Peter gazed over at him, as if he understood. Emma studied them both without wavering.

"So…did you make that up?" Dad asked.

"No." Hiro shook his head once, then hesitated. "And yes. I…I was there from the future."

Sylar's eyes flashed.

"What? How…why?"

"To save Charlie," Hiro said firmly. "From the aneurism…and from you."

Sylar's expression flickered.

"What?"

"You killed Charlie," Hiro said. "Cut off her head and took her power. So I went back to stop you."

Sylar was frozen. And then he swallowed convulsively, as if he was about to be sick. He sat back in his chair.

"Hey," Peter leaned toward him, brow furrowed. "Weren't you listening? You didn't kill her—you saved her from her aneurism. She's still alive and doing okay, right Hiro?"

"Yes," Hiro admitted. "She is very happy."

Peter nodded.

"Keep going."

Sylar took a breath.

"After Charlie, I continued with my plan," he said, his voice evening out as he went. "I had done some tracing, finding people whose powers I wanted to acquire, and the next on my list was…" His throat closed. "I learned about a cheerleader who could—"

It was as if he had reached inside my chest and squeezed my heart. I couldn't breathe. But neither could he. He had stopped again. Then, he stood up, sending the chair grinding backward, and went completely pale. He sucked in a shattered breath.

"Peter, I can't do this."

Peter let go of Emma's hand and rose to his feet. He slid an arm up around Sylar's shoulders and leaned his forehead close to the side of Sylar's. Sylar's jaw clenched, and his eyes saw nothing.

"Listen," Peter said, and I could barely hear him. "I would tell the story if I could—you know I would. But I don't know this part, okay? Like you said, they all know a lot of it. You can make it quick if you want. We're just covering the bases."

"Okay," Sylar breathed, nodding once. "Okay…" He ran a hand through his hair. "I went to Claire and took her power. I found out about other people who had abilities and I chased them down as well." His voice softened to almost nothing. "I killed quite a few of them."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Emma's brow darken. I wrapped my arms around myself and clenched my fists. Dad rested a hand on my shoulder. Peter lowered his arm, but his shoulder still touched Sylar's, and he didn't look at anyone else. Sylar stared at the table.

"The next important thing that happened was…" He cleared his throat, and he gave a short, lopsided smile. "I got in a scuffle with Peter…and his brother, Nathan." Sylar's eyes went blank. "I killed Nathan."

I twitched like someone had shocked me. The same instant, Sylar closed his eyes. Peter didn't move. But I got up and shoved my chair back. Sylar's surprised gaze locked with mine, but this time, I was ready.

"I can't believe it," I choked, tears stinging me. "You acknowledge that you did that and you still have the gall to come in here and stand in his brother's apartment, trying to explain yourself to us?" My tone gained strength and I pointed at him. "How dare you? How dare you even pretend to have—"

"Enough, Claire," Peter snapped—the words were like thunder. I swallowed hard. My shaking hand lowered. Peter ducked his head, his eyes softening.

"Just give the man a chance, here, okay? Let him finish."

"No," Sylar breathed. "No, she's right."

"No, she isn't," Peter stated, then straightened and faced us. "Sylar was put out of commission in that fight. Noah Bennet and a few others," Peter gestured to Dad. "Had the idea to use Matt Parkman's mental abilities to strip Nathan's memories out of Nathan's dead body, put them inside Sylar's body, obliterate Sylar, and have that body shape-shift into Nathan. In theory, Sylar would then be dead, and Nathan would still be alive." Peter let out a small sigh. I ached all over.

Hiro frowned deeply.

"That is a bad plan."

"We didn't think so at the time," Dad countered. Hiro twisted in his chair and glared at Dad.

"Nathan was a good man. But he knew what he was up against when he went into the fight. Putting him inside a body with a villain after he is dead is not," he held up a finger. "A good plan."

"That wasn't the plan," Dad protested. "We got rid of Sylar."

Now, Hiro, Ando and Emma looked so confused, it was like Dad was speaking Russian. Then, Hiro mutely pointed at Sylar, who stood there behind Peter, head lowered. Dad heaved a sigh.

"I know. That wasn't supposed to happen."

"How did you make that mistake?" Ando demanded, turning on Dad.

"They assumed I didn't have a soul," Sylar murmured. Hollow silence followed.

"So you lived in one brain with Nathan," Hiro prompted, turning back to him. Sylar shook his head.

"No. Somehow, I transferred to Parkman's head."

Emma reached up and pressed her hands to her temples, then gave an overwhelmed look to Peter. Peter saw her.

"Oh, it gets better," he said.

"I almost drove Matt crazy," Sylar confessed. "I got him all shot up. But in the end, I was able to hop back into my own body. But Nathan was still in there with me. Then, Peter came after me."

Peter's head bowed. Sylar glanced at him.

"He…persuaded me to let Nathan out for a while—"

"I took the Hatian's power and crucified Sylar with a nail gun," Peter stated. My brow tightened as imaginings of Sylar's screams flashed through my mind. My stomach turned. It shouldn't have. But it made me sink back down into my chair.

Peter and Sylar were silent a moment, Peter's head still low, and Sylar smiled lopsidedly again.

"Barely felt it," he said. Peter coughed and ran a hand through his hair, then gave Sylar an unreadable look. Sylar's gaze softened, and he drew himself up, then faced us.

"I let Nathan out, and he talked with Peter for a while. But Nathan was weak, and fading. I was angry at Peter for the…nails." He rubbed the center of his right hand. "But I tried. I wasn't able to withdraw like that for very long, though—not from my own body. My brain automatically started taking control again, of my breathing, my synapses, my heartbeat, everything." He shrugged. "Even if I wanted to share heads with Nathan forever, I couldn't have. Nathan knew that. He let me go."

Emma, watching Peter, slipped her hand up and touched his fingertips. He took her hand in his. Sylar let out an unsteady breath.

"I wasn't the same after that. I couldn't be," he said. "Nathan had left a lot of his memories with me." He shrugged. "Sometimes I couldn't distinguish between mine and his." His gaze swept over us, then landed on Peter. "And I wasn't able to go back to the way I had been. I didn't want to. But I didn't know what to do instead. So I went searching for an answer."

I felt Dad lean closer to the table. Hiro and Ando hardly breathed—they were listening. I wasn't breathing either, and Peter was intent upon Sylar. Sylar thought a moment, not looking at any of us.

"I went back to Samuel…" he stopped, and shook his head. "No, I went…Nathan had been with Samuel…and I went where he had been…but I couldn't make myself kill Samuel. And he confronted me about it. He said I couldn't kill him because I had no connections, no friends. Because Hiro Nakamura told me I would die alone." Sylar swallowed, gazing at Hiro. "I honestly hadn't thought about it…but then I remembered. When it all came crashing down on me—I couldn't stand it. I knew Samuel was right. About that, at least. And so I took a power from one of the others there. Lydia was her name." He held up a hand. "I didn't hurt her. I don't have to, anymore. She could find out people's deep desires just by touching them, and also, if ink was injected into her skin, it would form a tattoo of her deepest desire."

"That's weird," Ando shook his head. Sylar shrugged crookedly.

"It worked."

"And?" Hiro prompted. Sylar froze. He swallowed again, then cleared his throat.

"And the tattoo led me to Matt Parkman—I wanted him to strip me of my powers. All of them. So that I wouldn't be…tempted anymore." Sylar's eyes fell on me. I went still.

He wasn't lying. But he wasn't telling the truth, either. Maybe he was concerned that my dad would try to kill him. Maybe he thought I would.

But no. That wasn't the look he was giving me.

It was a deep, sad look, full of swelling emotion…

My cheeks grew hot, and my lips burned. I looked down.

"I think I can pick it up from here," Peter said. "I borrowed a power from my mom, because she had expressed some concern about one of her dreams. I had the same dream she did. I dreamed that Emma was luring thousands of people to their deaths by playing a cello…" He looked to Sylar. "And Sylar saved her."

We all straightened. I knew about my grandmother's powers. I remembered the devastating effects some of the dreams had had. I also knew better than to disregard them. It was obvious Peter knew the same.

He looked down at Emma.

"I couldn't let anything bad happen to Emma," he murmured, as she gazed back up at him. "So I went to find Sylar."

"Seriously?" Dad cried. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," Peter told him firmly. "I went to Parkman, to ask for his help. But as soon as I shook his hand, I knew what he'd done."

"What had he done?" Hiro asked.

"He'd betrayed Sylar's trust, and locked him in a prison made of his worst nightmare."

My stomach really turned now. What would Sylar's worst nightmare be like? Spewing blood and rending bones? Guts and screams and darkness too horrible and gruesome for even him?

"What?" Hiro said, confused. "A prison?"

"He put him in a coma," Peter explained. "Locked him inside his own head, then stuck his body in a corner of his basement and was building a brick wall over him."

Hiro threw his hands in the air.

"Also a bad plan! For how long would this work? What happens when, in a hundred years, the house falls down? What if a new family moved in and tore out the wall?"

Sylar smirked.

"I don't think he thought of that."

"So what did you do, Peter?" Emma asked. I blinked, surprised she had finally spoken.

"I borrowed Parkman's power," Peter said. "I went down in that basement and…I got inside Sylar's head."

Complete silence fell. I couldn't take my eyes from Peter. Slowly, I shook my head, unable to tell him how stupid and reckless I thought he was. I was too blown away.

"What did you find?" Ando asked, eyes narrowed. Peter shrugged.

"I found Sylar. In a completely empty city."

For a moment, that didn't register. Then my eyes darted back and forth between Peter and Sylar.

"Wait, what?" I managed. "I thought you said it was his worst nightmare."

"It was," Sylar said quietly. "It had been three hours since Parkman had put me there; three hours before Peter came in to get me. But to me it was three years."

Slowly, my mouth fell open. Sylar nodded once.

"Three years, I was totally alone. There weren't even any birds."

I went cold.

I had a reoccurring nightmare like that. I would run through the silent streets of my hometown, screaming for my mom, my dad, my brother—my friends, anyone I could think of. But no one answered. Every door was open, but every house was empty. And no, there weren't even any birds.

And that was Sylar's…?

Peter and Sylar exchanged a glance.

"I tried to get him out of there," Peter said. "But I couldn't. Parkman had designed it that way. We were there a month before the way out presented itself. And it showed up because Sylar decided he really did want to help me."

"What was it?" Hiro wondered.

"A wall," Sylar said. "A big, stupid brick wall."

Peter let out a deep sigh, as if the very thought of it made him weary.

"And so…the two of us beat on that wall with hammers…for five years."

I stood up again. But I couldn't say anything. My mind was reeling again. Peter and Sylar now only regarded each other, and their comments went back and forth, like a tennis match.

"I made Peter angry and he beat me up—"

"I shouldn't have—"

"Yes, you should. Then I tried to kill myself—"

"I had to stop you—"

"I am glad you did. Peter broke one hammer—"

"I nearly blinded myself—"

"We had to take a break for a while, and I read to him—"

"I nearly drove myself crazy—"

"Every day we worked on the wall—"

"You found that Bible—"

"Changed everything—"

"Nothing we did to that Wall worked—"

"We did our best to keep each other from losing our minds—"

"We talked about everything—"

"Yes, pretty much everything. I told you how sorry I was about Nathan—"

"I didn't believe you. Not until the fourth year came around, and I smashed—"

"All my clocks. But I told you not to worry about it—"

"I broke them all, and that was stupid of me. And you forgave me—"

"Of course I did."

"And in the fifth year I finally realized that the problem was me."

Sylar stopped. He frowned at Peter. Peter nodded.

"You were right, you know. I was the one keeping us in there." His voice quieted. "I was afraid to let you out."

Sylar's eyes flashed.

"And your acknowledgement that I had changed—"

"The fact that I believed it—"

"Was the thing that let us out," they both said at once. None of us spoke after that. We were all trying desperately to process. It wasn't working.

"So…" I tried, feeling dizzy. "You mean to say that for virtually five years, you two—"

Something in Peter's pocket jangled. I jerked. Peter's hand twitched to his pocket and he pulled out a cell phone, giving a totally startled look to Sylar. Peter stared at the buttons for a second, then pushed one and put the phone to his ear.

"Parkman?"

Hiro got to his feet. Peter's expression intensified.

"Okay," Peter said slowly, his tone completely different. "Okay, thanks for the heads up."

He hung up, and then darted into the next room.

"What?" Sylar demanded.

"Parkman says to turn on the TV," Peter called. "Something we need to see—something about the carnival."

Sylar hurried after him. Feeling my dad's hand still on my shoulder, I got up and trailed after. Emma, Hiro and Ando did the same. Peter found the remote and his TV screen flicked to life. He flipped through the channels to a news station. I frowned at the woman's face that appeared. Had I seen her before…?

"—breaking story. We have just received information that, before this, was top-secret, but has now been released due to the bizarre events that took place in Central Park tonight."

And then the screen changed.

And it showed my face.

"This woman," the reporter's voice went on. "Is a member of a previously-secret race of super-humans—she fell from the top of this Ferris wheel and then stood up, unscathed. Aaron Flynt, a top FBI agent, was able to comment just half an hour after the incident."

The cameras showed my dizzying fall. I made a face when I thudded to the ground. The view then switched to show a clean-cut man in a suit—a middle-aged man with blonde hair, and a lean build. He spoke with his hands in the pockets of his long black coat, his head lowered to the microphones.

"This new information is infinitely valuable," he said, his voice strong and clean. "Now, we finally have the link we've been searching for for years: the truth about the serial killer who murdered more than twenty people without touching them, and removed their brains without weapons. His name is Sylar, and apparently, he is also a super human."

I sensed Sylar stiffen. I smiled tightly.

But my smile did not last long.

"This Ferris Wheel stuntwoman possesses his same arrogance," the man said. "And judging from the tapes, it is easy to see why."

The screen flashed again—and all my blood turned to ice.

There we all stood at the carnival grounds: Dad, Hiro, and Ando, facing Peter and Sylar and Emma, as if we were having a powwow. It zoomed in on all our faces! The woman's voice continued.

"Reporters on the scene tonight were able to capture this footage—it is clear that Sylar is not working alone. According to several witnesses, each one of this group demonstrated super-human powers tonight, such as earth-moving, flying, electrocution, healing and teleportation. It is clear now that Sylar did not perform all the murders himself—rather, he has a several super-humans working for him—"

"What?" Peter yelped.

"—a man hunt is being conducted as we speak," the woman finished. "And a well-equipped team plans to bring them in as soon as possible. But if any of our viewers see anyone matching the description of one of Sylar or one of his gang members, do not approach him. Instead, please call this number…"

"Crap," Peter raked both hands through his hair. "Crap, crap, crap."

"Peter, we have to get out of here," Sylar said urgently. "Those reporters followed us—if not with their feet, with their cameras. They know where we…"

He trailed off. Slowly, he lifted his hand.

"What?" Dad asked, voice low. Sylar closed his eyes.

Then they flew open.

"They're coming."

"Where are they?" Hiro demanded.

"Just outside the building," Sylar said. "I hear them getting flame-throwers ready. They're talking about them."

"Flame-throwers?" Ando gasped. Sylar's jaw set.

"Apparently they have my file. Probably Claire's as well. I would guess that they know that if they burn us to charcoal, we can't heal from that."

My dad swore.

"See, this is exactly what I knew would happen!"

"That's helpful, Noah!" Peter snapped.

"What do we do?" I pressed.

"Turn Sylar in," Dad said. "Give him up to them and they'll leave."

"Over my dead body," Peter replied.

"Hold hands," Hiro cut in. "I will take us all to a safe place."

Emma's eyes were wild.

"Peter—"

"It's okay," he said, sliding his hand down and gripping hers tightly. "It'll be okay. I promise."

"I can't go," Dad said. I whirled on him. He just looked at me steadily.

"What are you talking about?" I snarled. "You have to come with us—don't be stupid."

"There is no way I am letting this happen," he grabbed my shoulders. "You get out of here—hide. I'll talk to them. I'll get you out of this. I will not let anyone think that you have anything to do with him." He pointed at Sylar. Then he leveled a gaze at Peter. "You need to turn him in."

"Like I said," Peter answered, his voice like nails. "Over my dead body."

"Peter—" Sylar tried.

"Shut up," Peter answered.

Footsteps sounded on the steps just outside the door.

"Quick! Hold hands!" Hiro said. Dad backed away from us.

"Dad, no!" I shouted.

"Claire, you go with Hiro," he commanded. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Emma link hands with Hiro, and Hiro with Ando. Peter grasped Sylar's hand.

"Dad—" I said, strangled.

"Hiro, go," Dad ordered.

A hand grabbed mine. A strong, soft one. Fingers laced through mine.

I realized the hand that held me was Sylar's.

But the next instant, the whole world flashed, and we disappeared.

TO BE CONTINUED