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Bothersome, But Not Distracting

By GoldenGait

Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly never will be.

Author's note: Sorry on the delay for this part, it's been a hectic week and a half and I lost the mental thread there for awhile. Don't you hate when real life gets in the way? And might I just say: where was Sylar in this last 2x07? Not a single update. Well, I guess I'll just have to continue to live off of this storyline instead… :-)

Part 4

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The pair continued to practice for another half hour, Maya becoming progressively more adept at being able to begin on command. Sylar had improved as well, becoming less affected by the surge of unpleasant panic and misery that he had to consume each time. He hadn't been expecting it the first time it had happened—he expected Maya to be able to stop herself without affecting him as she had in the motel. He couldn't always tell exactly what Maya had been imagining, but would instead be hit with a strong but general sense of anger, or sorrow, or fright. Most of Maya's emotional wallops didn't sit well with him, but on the occasion she became angry, and he felt her flood of rage, he was energized. He could tell she had the capacity for great ferocity and passion, and couldn't wait to use that for his own advantage…

Maya's eyes cleared and as she waited for Sylar to recover she craned her head to one side, stiff from sitting sideways in the front seat of the car. She no longer felt compressed by the episodes, and was able to shake the sensations off quickly.

The car jerked to the side suddenly, and Maya and Sylar were thrown sideways in their seats. There was a screech of metal, and Maya's head slammed into her window, Sylar pitching forward into the dash.

With a groan, Sylar sat back and rolled his shoulder, feeling a shooting pain. "Maya? Are you okay?" he asked, leaning toward her.

"Yes… I think so," she answered, putting a hand to the back of her head. No blood, but a lump was already beginning to form, and she had a splitting headache. "What was that?"

"I don't know," Sylar answered as he tried to open his door. "My door's stuck," he said, pushing in vain. "I think something hit us."

Maya opened her door and climbed out, holding it open for Sylar as he twisted his long, gangly form across the seats and emerged out of the driver's side. A car, smoke issuing from under its hood, sat lurched forward in a roadside ditch twenty meters ahead of them. Without a second thought, Maya ran toward it, and after a moments hesitation, Sylar followed slowly.

A dog barked frantically at them from the back seat of the car as they approached. Maya slid down the slight incline and caught sight of the driver, his eyes black, a deep cut across his forehead from slamming into the wheel. "Dios mio," she breathed, one hand to her mouth. Sylar slid down to the passenger side and peered through the dusty window. A woman sat slumped forward in her seat, unmoving.

"Gabriel… Take it back," Maya begged, backing away from the car. "Please help them!"

Sylar was torn—he felt no need to save these people, but he was desperate to exhibit an ability. After weighing his options, Sylar closed his eyes and…. Sylar shook his head. "I can't. I think it's too late."

Maya stumbled around the front of the car and grabbed Sylar's hands. "Please! Like you did before. In the car. You can do it, you just did it a dozen times!" she said frantically.

"I already did, Maya. When you did this, I felt it, I already did what I could and it didn't save them," Sylar said, looking at the bodies in confusion. "I don't think it works that way. It must just…" Sylar's brow furrowed. "I don't fix anything. I can't help anyone. I think I can stop you once you've started, but not….reverse what you've done."

Maya moaned and slid to the ground, her head in her hands. The incessant barking from the dog in the backseat was bothersome, and it was making her headache worse. "I just want to stop hurting people," she whispered at the dusty ground.

Sylar approached the car and looked through the back window. There was a cooler, a suitcase, and the woman's purse jumbled in the backseat with the dog, who looked upset, but not dangerous. Sylar opened the back door and the dog immediately jumped out, continuing its noise. It ran to Maya, who didn't acknowledge its presence, and then back to the car, barking loudly at Sylar's ankles.

Sylar shoved the dog away roughly with his foot and grabbed the purse and suitcase from the backseat. The cooler was wedged sideways between the seats, too tightly for Sylar to dislodge it. He grabbed some food from it and closed the car door. "Maya." Annoyed, he kicked the dog to one side again, this time with enough force that it kept its distance, but didn't stop barking. He tossed the purse at Maya's feet and hefted the suitcase into his arms, his shoulder causing him to grit his teeth in pain. "Maya, let's go."

Maya looked up from her hands and opened her mouth in protest when she saw what Sylar had collected from the wreck, but after a moment she just sighed and got to her feet without comment. She grabbed the purse and followed Sylar back to their car. The dog ran behind them for a few steps before turning back to continue barking at the motionless occupants of the wrecked car.

Sylar shoved the suitcase in the backseat and waited while Maya climbed through the driver's side door, over the center console, and into the passenger seat. Sylar climbed in after her and pulled the car back onto the highway.

"We're going to need another car," Sylar said. "Look in the purse for any cash."

Maya remained frozen, staring blankly out her window.

"Maya!" Sylar said sharply. With a start she looked at him as if she'd forgotten he was there. "Look in the purse," Sylar repeated harshly. "Is there any money?"

Maya took stock of the contents of the purse, pulling objects out into her lap. "Yes. A lot. And a cell phone, camera, credit cards… I thought you could do what Alejandro did?" she said quietly, not looking up from the bag.

Sylar frowned, disturbed that he didn't have the ability he thought he had. "I guess not."

"I'm so tired," Maya said, slumping back in her seat. "I can't keep taking the lives of innocent people… Is it a very bad thing that it is not as upsetting now as it was the first time? The first time, I threw up for a day and half afterwards. I felt like my chest would never stop aching. Now…" Maya trailed off.

"You've killed three people in the last twelve hours, Maya, and your brother was brutally murdered. Most normal people would be a wreck right now." Sylar paused, not looking at her.

"I don't understand your point." Maya said, frowning at him, but her warning tone led him to believe she knew exactly what he was implying.

Sylar shrugged. "I just don't think you have the level of morality you think you do. On some level very near the surface you're at peace with what you do, with what you've done. I don't think you care as much as you pretend to."

Maya's face twisted in distress and disbelief. "That's a terrible thing to say, Gabriel," she said in a low voice. "You don't know what it's like to kill."

Sylar's mouth quirked imperceptibly. "No. You're right. I don't. But you seem to have taken to it pretty easily."

"This is not easy for me!" Maya said indignantly.

Sylar paused for a moment, and then continued as if changing the subject, "Most people think twins are similar, but I think… I think it makes more sense that they'd be compliments of each other. A yin and yang. Light and dark, joy and sadness, calm and passion… good and evil." Sylar glanced at Maya, who was watching him with a hurt look on her face. Sylar shrugged. "Just a theory."

"Do you have a brother, Gabriel? A sister?" Maya asked.

"No."

"Do you love your parents?" Maya continued.

"They're dead."

Maya started to say something else, but seemed to think better of it, and quietly said instead, "Just because they are gone does not mean you have to stop loving them."

They drove in silence for several miles before either spoke again.

"How long does it take to drive from Texas to New York?" Maya asked.

"Days," Sylar answered, squinting to read a road sign. "There's a town in a couple miles. We can find a new car there."

They pulled in to the small town and found a gas station that looked like it had been abandoned years before, the windows broken and boarded, the building layered with graffiti. Sylar rifled through the suitcase and threw the unnecessary contents on the floor of the car's backseat, keeping a few things for each of them, but lightening the load by half. The pair started down the street toward a dusty used car lot. As they passed through the chain-link fence onto the lot, a stocky man in too much denim hurried toward them from a mobile home. A plain sheet of paper was taped to one of the windows bearing the word 'OFFICE'.

"Let me do the talking," Sylar said under his breath.

But as the man approached, Sylar watched him falter, trip, and drop to his knees, gasping. He felt a cold rush of bitterness spread like a chill through his body. It was a new sensation, distant and hollow. When it passed, he looked over at Maya. She was standing with her arms crossed, an almost curious look on her face as she stared down at the dead man. She looked up and caught Sylar watching her. "What?" she said impersonally. "How is my level of morality now, Gabriel?"

Sylar raised his hands in mock surrender, as if to say he was loathe to contradict her.

"I'll find a car with a full tank," Maya said, and started toward the first row in the lot, calling over her shoulder, "Hide him."

Sylar smiled. Quite sure she could no longer hear him, he purred, "Perfect."

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Okay, I have a good grasp on what's coming next, so it'll be less of a wait for the next chapter, promise. And if you think you've spotted an inconsistency, trust me for one more chapter… I have a plan. ;-)

Check out my profile for a link to my website.

GG