Chapter 3- Taking in Strays

The dinner table was abuzz about the estate's new guest…but Maria wasn't around to hear it because she sat in the massive dining room in the mansion, eating her dinner alone while the slaves ate together in the common hall in a small enclave of buildings on the east side of the property. Decorum would have it no other way. She simply couldn't be seen eating with the slaves- certainly not as guests in her home and most certainly not in their quarters. Some things just couldn't be disputed and for the most part all understood. She took a bite of the delicious meal Mohinder had prepared and glanced up at the ceiling as though she could see thought it into Sylar's room where as far as she knew, he still slept- peacefully oblivious to the world around him. He was an exception as most new slaves were, but the moment that Peter gave his blessing, he would be moved out of the main house and into the quarters with the others as soon as he was well enough.

In the dining hall, it was a time to be with friends and to share tales of the day over food. They all knew that they had it good- much better than other specials at other farms and estates, so when the talk turned to complaining about this chore or that rule, the others were quick to remind the malcontent that they should instead stuff their face with the nutritious food that was provided them and shut up. And invariably, someone would chime, "At least you aren't over at Jessup's." That usually ended the conversation because everyone at the table knew Arthur Jessup and his reputation as a cruel master rivaled Sylar's. He thought nothing of killing his slaves outright if they did not do his bidding and once or twice, Maria's slaves had been loaned out to help with various projects and came back worse for wear. He lived just a mile away, so for all intents and purposes, he was Maria's neighbor- all the more reason to be cautious. Once in awhile, Jessup's slaves would come in contact with Maria's at the property line and exchange stories while they worked and it wasn't unusual for Maria's stock to slip them a piece of fruit or bread since he hardly fed them. It was Peter's idea, of course, but Maria tacitly approved by consistently signing the inflated grocery bill he handed her every month, never asking him where all the food went.

"So is it true?" Ando asked his best friend with a giddy grin. "You actually saw Sylar?"

"Hai." Hiro nodded helping himself to more chicken and vegetables. "He is upstairs in the house. He did not look so good."

"That must have been some feat. I can't imagine he went quietly." Mohinder mused shaking his head. "I wonder how they managed to catch him."

"No one knows." Peter answered. "And it's not like he's going to tell us. The point is, he is here so we will all have to get used to it….again."

Matt took a drink of his water and set the glass down with a decisive thud. "Why? Why do we have to keep letting that psycho stick around? After everything he has done to us, he can go sleep with the horses for all I care."

Mohinder chuckled deviously. "The horses have done nothing to deserve his company. Perhaps he'd be more comfortable with spiders and snakes- or cockroaches."

Most of the table found his observation funny and when the laughter died down, Peter said "Well, he's going to be over there for awhile. I just thought I'd warn you so when you are over at the main house working you know what to expect."

"Good thing Ando and I are outside most of the time." Matt groused.

"Yes. I'd rather be outside in the garden all day when it's 100 degrees than be in there with him for 2 minutes." Ando agreed.

"That's very well for you, my friend, but I will be trapped in the kitchen. Good thing I have a handy supply of sharp knives at my disposal." Mohinder smiled. "And as I presume he is chipped, I won't have to worry about them flying back at me."

"C'mon, guys." Peter sighed patiently. "Don't you think we should just give him a chance?"

He was met with a resounding chorus of "No."

Undeterred, he continued. "Look, I know he's made some mistakes…"

"Mistakes?" Matt almost spit out his water. "Is that what we're calling them now?"

"…but he doesn't have his powers now. He's not dangerous."

"Oh, no." Hiro disagreed while he pushed his glasses up on his nose with purpose. "Brain man is always dangerous because he is a bad man. He doesn't need powers to be evil."

Peter rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. "Guys, don't you remember how pissed off you were after you were captured? Some of us had a harder time of it than others," he paused to glance at Mohinder who began stabbing at a wayward green bean to avoid his gaze, "but each of us were not exactly ourselves because of the system. He's not going to be either."

Matt raised his index finger to speak and added, "Yeah, but you're forgetting that Sylar was pretty much a dick before, so, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that's going to be a personality trait for him."

Peter put his hands up in mock surrender. "Fine. You don't have to be his best friend, and maybe you can even argue that he doesn't deserve to be here, but he is and sooner rather than later you'll have to deal with him."

"Have you any idea how much self restraint it took not to spit in his soup or perhaps spill rat poison in it knowing that he is mortal and it would actually work?" Mohinder asked darkly. "The man murdered my father and then had the audacity to play charades with me so I could lead him to more victims. He has no conscience whatsoever and I fear that his being here will put Maria and all of us at risk."

"I know." Peter admitted. "I plan on talking to him soon. Probably when he starts feeling better."

"Better not wait that long," Ando warned, "the minute he feels ok, he will burn the entire place down to get away."

"Does Maria know?" Hiro timidly asked while he took the last freshly baked roll from the center plate.

Peter looked vaguely guilty. "No."

"Don't you feel you should tell her what she has brought into her home? She trusts you, Peter." Mohinder reminded.

"I know she does." He nodded getting up from the table and heading for the door. "I'll take care of it."

Upstairs in the mansion, Sylar stirred and yawned before languidly opening his dark eyes and he slowly blinked the fog of deep sleep away. He was still in the room- it wasn't a dream after all. In his dreams he believed he still had his powers and specials were not hunted, well, anymore than they used to be. He was once more in control and took what he wanted, walking through the world but never a part of it- he was better than that. But that was just a dream and he felt a sense of loss and disappointment when he realized that he was again nothing special. He wasn't even the boring watchmaker from Queens, he was less than that now and he hated every second of it.

He gingerly sat on the edge of the bed until his head stopped spinning and then he slowly stood up to make his way to the bathroom. There was a window to his left by the head of the bed and he paused to look out. Directly outside was a large oak tree and sitting on a branch by the window was a small black cat, staring directly at him with its eerie yellow eyes.

He never had pets growing up, but he read a lot about it and he could respect the solitary nature of the common house cat. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more they had in common with his own worldview. Despite the pain caused by his ribs, he lifted the sash and leaned on the sill. "Hey, kitty." He greeted in a low voice. "Are you keeping an eye on me?" The little cat regarded him in silence causing him to smirk in appreciation. "I see. If you are, you're not telling."

He managed to straighten himself and get to his destination without passing out, which was unexpected. He did find himself leaning on the sink for support as his head swam the whole time, but even he knew it was because he was so dehydrated. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out, the small amount of dark brown urine he managed to rid himself of had an incredibly strong smell of concentrated ammonia and he was quick to flush it away. One of the mildly annoying things about not having his powers was not just knowing what time it was, but it was dark outside and if he had to guess, it had been a good 9 hours since he last ate. Sadly, he didn't have much to show for it and he ate and drank as much as he could reliably hold without vomiting. It obviously wasn't enough.

He splashed cold water on his face and glanced in the mirror at the pale reflection with dark circles under his eyes. He swore he had aged 10 years since he lost his abilities. He looked- and felt- so much older. His entire body ached from various insults and that was something he hadn't had to deal with since taking Claire's ability to heal. Now every throb of every cut and bruise reminded him of the beating he had taken and it made him feel helpless and weak. Sylar wouldn't…but as he looked at the pathetic reflection staring back at him he realized that he wasn't Sylar anymore. Not exactly. They may have won for now, but he was determined to get his powers back again. He just had to watch and wait for his opportunity…

He drank some water from the tap, trying to get down as much as possible both to replenish his desiccated body and to avoid carrying a glass back to the bed because he was certain he would spill it. He felt so dizzy and nauseous, he thought it might pass if he could just get back to the bed to lay down. He opened the bathroom door and made it a few steps before it became clear that he wasn't going to make it. He wheeled back around and had just enough time to get to his knees in front of the toilet before he wretched and returned all of the water he just drank and possibly then some. Even though he had emptied himself completely in the first go, his stomach clenched and writhed within him for what seemed like eternity until he lay his head on his arm above the bowl in utter exhaustion. His head throbbed painfully and he gave a few weak, raw coughs while he pondered his options. He knew he was too weak to get up and walk to the bed, but he certainly didn't want to stay where he was. Maybe he could crawl…that way if he passed out, he was already near the floor. As far as he was concerned, if no one else saw it, it didn't happen and no one but himself had to know.

A blurry flash caught his attention and he glanced up to see the black cat seated neatly on the corner of the sink staring down at him as it curled its tail around its feet. He hadn't noticed before, but the cat was missing part of its left ear- no doubt in a fight and it looked a little scrawny. It was no doubt a stray left to fend for itself. He waited for it to do something, but it seemed content to just watch the pathetic human. Perhaps it was because of his current condition, but something in the way the cat stared at him just seemed contemptuous. Sylar smirked despite himself and said, "If you were one of your bigger cousins I would worry that you were here to eat me. I guess you can sense weakness just as well as they can." The cat seemed completely disinterested in the dialogue. "So you're just here to mock me then." He surmised. "Fair enough."